The Predator: Jungle Blocks [III]

Bizarre weaponized hunter-Martian ('the Predator') requires serious urban-engagement post-crash into the woods, in this kaleidoscope-trilogy about inventive ice.

Predator fanfiction (trilogy). Thanks for reading 

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Solder-hero Amlan Satan, Slovak-Algerian ice-hockey coach and early-retired (but decorated!) American armed forces man of the modern Blue Planet, was hot on the trail for his chase of the damned Martian invader of weaponized fury, called the Predator, still-lurking (half-invisible!) in his beloved American Homeland city. Amlan and his three armed-services friends, recruited for skill/idealism, Danica and Marcus, had found cool-courage chasing this 'thing' around the Earth-city armed with their handy-dandy 'ice-guns' (designed liquid-nitrogen shooters for quick/tasty ice freeze action for disorienting the hellish Martian for restorations of human leave).

AMLAN: Still no final resolution or conclusion, and the Predator still dances, wow.

MARCUS: We're still the best-response for this Earth domain jitters, friends.

DANICA: We're using the ice-guns well; and Amlan's already shot it in the chest!

AMLAN: Well, we're gonna have to shoot it dead-right in the feet next-time, ok.

MARCUS: Amlan's right; if we give this Martian from Hell too much leave, well...

DANICA: Maybe next-time we spot it, on a city-roof, I dance around like decoy.

AMLAN: That's a grand plan, Danica babe...I'll be sure to get it right below legs.

MARCUS: That's media-weight (Facebook-like!).

Now, the Predator was no stranger to Hell or Hell's code-reviews. Now, it was known the Predator was (simply) a Martian with stranger tones and demeanor of pure hunting for pure malice and simply a messenger of why non-human intelligent life was arguably in no-way hospitable or fascinating (ok). Well, that's the precise reason hero-soldier Amlan Satan, Slovak-Algerian Bostonian-Catholic hero of the Blue Planet of everyday ('normal') crimes and terrorism, was certain the disorientation of the hellish Martian would now have to be kaleidoscope (and permanent).

AMERICAN PRESIDENT: Congrats, captain hero (ha).

AMLAN: Thank you very much, Mister President (ok!).

AMERICAN PRESIDENT: Truly regretful of the loss of a hero, and street-cops.

AMLAN: The Predator insisted he be his own language-art master of darkness, sir.

AMERICAN PRESIDENT: We lost multiple human beings...and your friend's lost, ok.

AMLAN: Marcus was a great soldier; and now he's without a mortal pillow, sir.

AMERICAN PRESIDENT: He will be missed, Amlan Satan (ok).

AMLAN: I think I'm asking Danica to marry me...trauma pillow-pals, you know.

AMERICAN PRESIDENT: Freezing the Predator in the feet was right-more, pre-kill.

AMLAN: Danica was able to decapitate and burn it to ash once it was frozen, sir!

AMERICAN PRESIDENT: All's 'cool' post-revelation of attainable know, eh, hero?

AMLAN: Facebook-like, Mister President (for doubt).

With this eerie invasion-jitters behind all and in the past (forever), hero-soldier Amlan Satan, ice-hockey coach and early/decorated retired armed-forces man of the American Homeland, thought to himself a married/sane/peaceful life was well-welcomed (ok). The use of the liquid-nitrogen weapon proved miraculous; and Amlan only wanted to think of hockey and his honey and not worry about any American science curiosity about the intentionality 'scope' of the rationale behind the awful Predator's (simple) 'agenda' to simply hunt for kill and sneer (damn). Maybe this was all, ironically, some glass-castle conclusion image of Earth sovereignty/safeties kiss (for all).

"Doing well is the result of doing good. That's what capitalism is all about" (Ralph Waldo Emerson). 

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)