<div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: franklin gothic demi;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;">Ares: Yipee Kay-yay…</span></span></div><br/><div class="floatright">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v252/HlySd/700114-god_of_asskicking_super-1.jpg)</div>The mud had become his camouflage and he became as still as the earth beneath him. He listened to the rustle of the trees and even saw the boughs tremble, but his pursuers still hadn’t made themselves known. However, he still felt alert. Caution was still set to high as he continued to gaze back at the woods and to his startle just a few feet from where he hid, his enemies emerged from nothing. They had been using some sort of cloaking device. The green-skinned creatures searched left and right, but they had given up too soon. Now that the god could see them, turning their backs had been a fatal mistake.<br/><br/>His hand slowly moved to his back as he slid his ax back into its ring and removed from his shoulders the modified version of an M-16—modified because Stark had done all sorts of work to it that it might as well been called something else. Ares’s attention was brought to the trees when the green men began to climb. The mutilated corpses and the trembling blue-furred creatures in cages spoke loudly to him. At that moment, one would realize that he wasn’t his sister. Athena would try to further observe the situation and hope to acquire some sort of understanding as to why the green people had the blue people in cages.<br/><br/>Ares, well, he was bred to bust shit up. The assault rifle was cocked, its<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: impact;"><em>chuh-chink!</em></span></span>audible. He then rose from his hunched over position in the mud and squeezed the trigger to unleash ropes of hot rounds that mowed the trees and their green monkeys.<br/><br/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: impact;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><em>Budda-budda-budda-budda!</em></span></span></div><br/>“Don’t shoot at the enemy and expect him not to shoot back!” the god roared, grinning sickly as green men began to tumble in bloody heaps to the grass. He hadn’t been shooting senselessly. He shot the ropes that held the cages aloft and to give his other hand something to do, he removed one of the pistols at his hip to pick off those that might have escaped the mowing.