Summary: Sometimes, Ellis just cannot help himself.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Inspiration came from Eminem's "W.T.P." and "Untitled." "W.T.P." practically screams "Ellis" to me and I can't help but laugh every time I hear it.
Warnings: Swearing, lack of grammar, no character development, etc. Very, very short one-shot.
Holding his shotgun close to his chest, the mechanic reached up and adjusted the bill of his hat, his eyes squinting as he looked through the haze that had settled through the city. He could hear his companions' footsteps as they walked behind him, all looking around to make sure that they would not be taken by surprise in the quiet streets. Ellis licked his lips before he continued on his way, ears listening for any sound of a moan, sob, or snarl, wanting to catch the zombies before they would have a chance to do any damage to their small group of immune zombie killers. The plan to get to the mall was simple; the faster they get to the evacuation center, the better. He was certain that he companions would appreciate running into as little of the walking dead as possible after the fiasco in the Vannah.
A sudden snarl broke the relative silence before breaking off into a rumbling purr of sorts, making the mechanic stiffen as a muttered curse came from the man wearing a white suit; Ellis was not all that sure what the guy was doing before the outbreak hit, but he was glad that the guy was good with a gun and was willing to cover him. As he readied his gun, the mechanic paused at the sight of something shining on the ground in the nearby distance.
A smile lit up his face before the hick darted forward, reaching down to pick up the innocent item before a loud shriek filled the air and a heavy weight collided with him, knocking the unsuspecting man to the ground as three shots rang out. He was certain he hit his head on the asphalt as everything was sounding a bit fuzzy. Looking over at his hand, the simple mechanic could not help but smile at the dirty, yet still pretty object that was pinched in between his fingers, his mind barely focusing on the heavy body that was dragged off of his own as he stared at the small item.
"What the fuck was that about, Overalls?" the conman snapped as he pulled the dazed and grinning redneck to his feet.
"Find a penny, pick it up," the Southerner chimed as he held up the small coin to the exasperated gambler's face. "An' all day long yew'll have good luck!"
"...Goddamn you," Nick spat as Rochelle smiled in the background and Coach rubbed his temples.
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