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Special Forces OpCentre
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Political Discussion Thread open:  Link
       
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Whew...now what did I miss? That blasted Mr. Furious b*tchslapped me so hard coming out of the pub I had to spend two days on an alcohol I/V recovering....except for day leave to go to the lunch on Saturday...and drink more alcohol (absolutely damn excellent, by the way).
Why are these Jedi on our thread? Note to self: must get Furious to administer toilet discipline to Exar...
       
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| administer toilet discipline to Exar... |
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There is something very disturbing about those words
 
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The departure of Overlords Terl and Greldon from the FOTR fleets has apparently reduced their strength below the level to stand on an even footing with SF. Though no official peace overture has been received, open battles between SF and FOTR have ceased.
Meanwhile, sensor drones shaped suspiciously like huge filing cabinets, along with several Aston-Martin, BMW and Peugeot corvettes, have been seen along the outskirts of SF space. We must assume that these are advanced scouts for the European armada. Though war has not been officially declared, relations are "wary" and falling like a rock. Caution is advised.
 
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We're at war with the fellowship 
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administer toilet discipline to Exar
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tOO bLOODY tHAT ???????????????????
jAW'S lOOK wHAT tHEY dO yA sISTER mATE uSE dA lINK
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Link
[Message Edited]
   
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#311
by Veteran TheQuack - 2/15/2004 11:46:05 PM
Now, what did I miss?
| The Skowbo Purple Duck is an endangered species, and thus theoretically protected. Unfortunately, this particular duck's psychic powers and crafty intellect have drawn the ire of many. After surviving countless bad situations, Quack is a master of survival and gadgetry. While the native wetlands of Skowbo are the safest range for these majestic birds, convincing Quack to go back to a boring marsh bereft of the benefits (more like pubs) of civilization is probably out of the question. Very few Skowbo Purple Ducks venture so willingly out into the hustle and bustle of humanoid dominated space, so use caution when encountering any Skowbo Purple Ducks in pubs, and by no means provoke them. It might be Quack! |
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Ah, the Spymaster's accurate as always. I'm honoured you'd do that much research on me 
Yeah, I've got an Apprehended Violence Order against "the Metaverse in general", but the lawyers say it doesn't apply if I'm going out on missions and blowing stuff up. What a jib.
Gratz again to Jaws on the top spot!
I had a blast in Melbourne, great to meet everyone! As for our ANZAC guest...
| Cross-dressing, sheep-buggering, Thornbury-living evil bastard. |
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I can confirm everything except the sheep-buggering. He brought one along, of course, and was good to go, but he got kicked out just after he started reciting Kiwi poetry to the sheep "to get it in the mood". So we never actually got to see the whole thing. He assures us the DVD will be out soon, though. With lots of "extra scenes".
administer toilet discipline to Exar...
There is something very disturbing about those words |
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Ssh. You know the military code of silence. What goes on in the toilet stall stays in the toilet stall.
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The Sheep Look Up
The Pirate Ship
“I just want a change.”
Mrs Pontius looked up from the television. “Pookie, you know I’m watching my stories…”
“Yes, but I’m stale. My life is going nowhere. I do nothing worthwhile- I have nothing to live for. No-one appreciates me and I’m misunderstood! I want a change- new horizons- new challenges. A new direction in life. I’m getting older and what do I have to show for my life? Nothing!”
“I’m sure things will come good. There’s plenty to do. Feed Sinbad. Mow the lawn. Now the ads are finished. Go!” Mrs Pontius waved her hand at Pontius in dismissal. Pontius slunk from the TV room, his head low. In the kitchen Sinbad was munching on a rat.
The Aussies
Evil Steve slurped his Carlton Cold and chortled. “Dey iz carryin’ on like a pork chop too right. i iz thinkin’ dey need takin’ down a peg or two- wot duz yous all think?”
“nOT ALL OF THE sPECIAL fORCES HAVE GOT A KANGAROO LOOSE IN THE TOP PADDOCK. jUST THE aUSTRALIANS i'D SUGGEST. tHE REST OF THEM ARE ACTUALLY QUITE DECENT."
LavaLampMaster belched and nodded. “Yep. Can’t say az i have anything against the others- just the rabblerousers. And we know who they iz…”
“Ditto for me. Some of those Kangaroos iz takin’ it too far.”
“So you iz agreein’ with me den. Can we cut their poppies, wot?” asked Evil Steve.
Dracko81 frowned. He sipped his Pinot, thoughtfully. “You may have mangled a metaphor. If you mean they perceive themselves as tall poppies, and hence they may need to be cut down to size, I have an idea. Indeed, I would go so far as to suggest a plan. A practical joke.”
Later, the Aussies looked at each other with glee.
“Sounds good i iz thinkin’.”
“A cunnin' plan Dracko81” murmured LavaLampMaster.
Dracko81 nodded. “I shall go instantly and place the plan into motion. Don’t go to the Special Forces pub tonight whatever you do! There’ll be some unhappy little faces there I’m thinking.”
The kangaroos laughed. LavaLampMaster, Evil Steve and never-never watched Dracko81 leave the room. LavaLampMaster turned to the others and said, “iz there somethin’ a bit different about Dracko?”
“i iz thinkin’ the same… can’t put me finger on it tho…”
The Pirate Ship
Pontius stomped through the Ship of Doom. In the Officers Mess KitWarrior lounged on a chair, with cats draped around him. They all turned and stared at Pontius as he entered.
“Mordred, make room for the Captain”, hissed Kit. In a huff, Mordred flounced off a chair and tail high, left the Mess.
Pontius sat, looked at Kit and a wall of faces looked at him. “What’s with the cat thing Kit?”
Kit’s lips twitched. “They’re company Captain. They listen.”
“Listen. Exactly! No-one listens anymore do they? Everyone just wants to talk. I’m having a bit of a crisis Kit. Where is my life heading? What am I doing here? Why, I was just saying to Mrs Pontius the other day that….”
“Captain we were just leaving. Sorry we don’t have time to chat. Why don’t you go and chew the fat with the Special Forces. They always seem to be available to chat about anything. Come my pretties.” Kit and the cats stood, stretched and left the Mess, slowly.
Pontius sat slumped in his seat for a minute, and then straightened. “Why not? I WILL go and chat with my old mates. It’ll just be like old times. I’ll have a beer at the Special Forces pub.”
The Special Forces Pub
Killa had been delegated to improve relations between the Special Forces and New Zealand, and even perhaps to recruit some Kiwis. For that reason, Killa had been taking a delegation of New Zealand sheep farmers for a tour of the Special Forces bunker. It had been a long, hot day.
“And finally, our tour ends with the Special Forces pub. Our hospitality comes second to none. The drinks are on me”, said Killa. The Kiwi sheep farmers cheered enthusiastically. They walked up to the pub, just as Samurai Ben lurched out, pale. “Don’t go in. Something awful has happened!”
“What do you mean?” asked Killa, with a frown.
“Not sure”, said Ben, “I think it’s a practical joke. Some-one has turned a transmogrification beam on the entire pub. It’s horrible. They’re all in there. The whole crew- plus Pontius was visiting.”
“Let me see”, snapped Killa. He pushed past Ben and entered the pub, with the Kiwi sheep farmers close behind.
“Oh good heavens, no!” gasped Killa, and started laughing. A room full of sheep looked up. And bleated. “Is that you Hurls? And Wombie? And yes, I can see Jaws and Quack and…there’s Pontius too!” Pontius was a black sheep with a very cute sheep face.
“Hey guys, what a cruel joke to pull. And just when we had a visit from… ah… oh… oh my… is that legal?”
   
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Disturbing... truly disturbing...
Thank you for leaving me with my entourage, Killa.
(shudder)
 
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| ah… oh… oh my… is that legal?” |
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apparently, as long as you kiss them first...
As usual Killa, your writing skills are only exceeded by your sense of the bizarre.. Fabulous.
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| As usual Killa, your writing skills are only exceeded by your sense of the bizarre.. |
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I write to an audience of animals, kitten-loving pirates, dyslexic Aussies, Star Wars wanna-bes, and Americans, and you say that I have a sense of the bizarre? 
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