It's been a hard life for me, John Fenix Lastofus. From the moment I was born I was thrown into a grueling gauntlet of cool but harrowing super-soldier assassin mercenary training. Sometimes, I wake up in the morning, think about my seven consecutive dead families and say to myself, "John Lastofus. Is it really worth it? What, besides the cold, hard heterosexual steel of a gun in my hands, makes life worth living?"
All This Murder Has Really Taught Me How To Appreciate Life
When I first met my adoptive daughter, I was distant, cold, detached. I had learnt the hard way that life was a lonely road for a cool, grizzled killing machine in his mid forties. Everyone you love dies dramatically and everyone else betrays you despite having watched you murder literally thousands of men without remorse. I knew I couldn't get too close to this young girl, I couldn't afford to get hurt again if she died. Not because I was emotionally vulnerable, or anything girly like that. It's just that brooding over a dead family takes a lot out of you and this post-apocalyptic wasteland was running extremely low on protein supplements.
For me, it was all business. It was my job to protect her and also to get vague but wildly disproportionate revenge against the men who killed my latest wife and child. Despite how her plucky and courageous attitude tugged at my heart strings, I was focused on the job. You can't afford distractions when you're killing thousands of people with a variety of cool and brutal weaponry.
But despite my best efforts, we've grown closer over the course of this horrifying killing spree. I still remember the first moment we really bonded. We were pinned down by extremely thinly characterized bandits, with little hope of escape. I handed her a still warm sniper rifle and taught her how to kill two dozen men in a scene that was in no way Freudian. I would have had tears in my eyes watching those men's brain splatter in slow motion over the concrete walls of that ruined hospital. If I cried that is, which I don't.
We've had so many good times together since then. There was the time we worked together to meticulously slit the throats of dozens of people, the time she shot someone clean through the eye with a bow and arrow and of course my favorite, the time we duct taped a chainsaw to a shotgun and just went to town on a bunch of fellas, boy howdy, did we have some clean-up to do after that one.
Even in the difficult moments, she's been a real light in my life. One time she ran away after a fight we had, I should have been mad, but I was just so glad to see her after murdering thirty men with a variety of home-made bombs that I forgot to even be mad. She just has that effect on me y'know?
So thank you, adopted daughter, you and the 10,000 men we killed along the way have really shown me that life was worth living again. At the end of this long, bloody road, I've found the value of this funny little thing we call the world. Now it's time to settle down as a family and live a quiet life that will in no way be interrupted by one of us tragically getting murdered to set up a sequel.