Royal Service

[ChrisiusMaximus]

Yo Scratch,

While I still find this story very entertaining Im beginning to wonder a little as to what its point is and think its starting to get longwinded. I stand to be corrected though and are prepared to wait and see what you come up with next.

Its not your best work IMHO although its certainly been entertaining, one thing I think is there are too many side stories taking place and you need to focus more on something in particular.

You are undoutbtebly one of the best comedic writers to post here but I prefer your Bush stories. IIRC you did tell us you had a Bush story in the works before you started this and I look forward to seeing where our fistfighting hero goes next time out.

For now though please dont be offended by my thoughts and please continue this very funny piece, but try to focus it more.

[unscratchedfoot]

I can't focus the story because its based on a game. In fact, I've left out one whole part where the UK took over the UN city of Happy Meadows after the photocopy incident. Then the Americans busted through the middle of the UN taking 3 cities including Security Council, the capital. The Germans took 2 UN cities in the south and razed one of them, knocking the UN out of the game. UK forces managed to wrestle away the remaining UN city held by the Germans called Blue Peace. After that, endless carnage developed as the Germans fought tooth & nail to try and get the city back. I had to put an army in the city to hold it properly after changing hands a few times.

Also, I launched another amphibious assault including 3 Type 42's loaded with Hopscotch rockets and only one transport unit with 5 tank units loaded on it which was all I could afford with the costly ongoing battles to the south. I sent it all the way around south and landed on the German homeland and took over the city of Tigerville and razed it - a deadly blow to the Germans. The tanks eventually all were destroyed though and 2 Type 42 cruisers were sunk by Russian Kirov battlecruisers, and a third cruiser, the only surviving unit from the expedition, was a burning wreck by the time it got back. I was kinduv planning a second amphib operation to take out the city of Iron Crossing but the build time for the ships and rockets was too much to afford.

As for the story being too long, I'm not sure about this cause Kaos and Skiloaf's stories are even longer. Anyways, I've heard a few times that this story is not good, including from an idiot I know here in Japan who refuses to even it anymore so I will put it out of its misery.

the surrender of Royal Service

*BANG* and following execution

AAAGH! complete with deathcry

[Kaos XIII]

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

This story is , hilarious and very entertaining. The Royal Service shall never surrender. Why worry about some guy in Japan, when you got fans all over the world.

Continue this story, At least, do it for frog face. Look into the little green guy's eyes, he jumps in anticipation for your next update.

[ChrisiusMaximus]

Oops sorry I didnt mean to put you off altogether, I dont mind the length in fact I prefer long stories I just think there are too many tangents thrown in where you go walkabout with your own thoughts. The thing that got me was the whole shooting thing with the kid in the last post, although it is as funny as the other funny parts I just didnt think it fitted with the rest of the story, I think you get too abstract at times thats all ! .

Now then Scratch my thoughts were offered as humble opinions and friendly constructive critique, you dont have to listen to them. If you would prefer me not say what I dislike in future then let me know, as I recall you stopped writing "The winds of change " a while back when I said something critical about it and you had a great concept with that piece, which you should have developed further.

There are plenty of folk posting who are immensely enjoying this story including myself so for pities sake man keep the goods a coming.

[vovan]

Scratchy, why is it that you deprive those of us that liked your story of the enjoyment just because someone doesn't understand the humour? If some d00d doesn't want to read it - his loss, I say. The show must go on.

[forgorin]

I'm readin ok. I have to work for a living.So get off my back. Just cus I dont read it the second afte its posted doesnt mean that I dont read it at all. Now if you dont finish this story I will refuse to read anything that you write in the future. Got it. So write you lazzy @$$ed morron. Write or I'll put you out of your missery with a wet noodle. Do I makemyself clear.
I think I can say this for all of us WE REALLY ENJOY YOUR STORIES. They are funny and entetaining so please dont stop.

For

[unscratchedfoot]

Operation Scum Removal


The midnight airdrop had gone off fairly well without being detected. UK airplanes operating out of East Hasting had been flying over the area regularly at nighttime for the last week to reduce suspicion of an airdrop. On the the way through the jungle they were lucky not to encounter any snakes; instead, they were almost eaten alive by piranhas in a narrow, deep river and were lucky to have been warned by one jumping out of the water and snapping at Dexters just before he went in. They later found a small arcing bridge to go over.

The 4 newbie commandos were within 100 metres of the cottage, hiding in the foilage. After an argument and some coin tossing, it was decided that Chrisius would go in first to pick off the guards on the 2nd story walkway going around the building. It was still bright and sunny in the afternoon, assuming security would be a little laxer considering the previous raids had all occurred at nightime. The cover of the terrain plus the very quiet MP5SD guns they had would hopefully allow them to eliminate the outside guards without alerting anyone inside.

Chrisius made his way through the bushes and grass on his belly, using his elbows and knees to move with. In his flashy colored beachwear and 'Wanted Dead: Mendez' shirt, he was hardly camouflaged but the guards had moved around to the other side of the cottage except for one who was busy looking at a magazine. Chrisius made a fair bit of noise due to the fact that it was his first time to do this kind of maneouvre.

Skilord's heart beat fast. He was worried that Chrisius might blow their surprise advantage. C'mon, shoot him before he goes to the other side too! And make sure its an instant kill! Skilord could see him reach a position on the edge of the cottage lawn, exposing himself in the open. Chrisius pointed his gun at the sentry and after a few tense moments with no shots being fired, that guard also walked around to the other side.

Then Chrisius also bellied his way around the cottage towards the other side.

No! We're supposed to kill them from this side! Skilord was getting stressed. He could still see Chrisius who had reached the next corner of the lawn in the edge of the bushes - an extremely dangerous position considering he was within view of all guards and whoever else might look his way. Chrisius again pointed his weapon at a guard sitting with his back to him on the railing, smoking. The 2 other guards were quite taken with the magazine, perhaps a porno or a gun mag.

After a minute which seemed like hours, the smoking guard finally jerked and toppled backwards off the railing. The other 2 guards heard the crash of him landing and laughed in response. "Ah ha ha ha! What an idiot Gonzales is! What'd he put in that cigarette anyways?" they jeered.

They lazily walked over to the spot where he had been sitting, but before they got there, one of them took a bullet in the forehead and collapsed onto the walkway. The other one froze in panic and fear - just long enough to suffer the same fate.

The 3 waiting commandos couldn't see the action from their side of the cottage but were relieved to hear the 3 falling bodies. Skilord wiped sweat from his forehead and breathed deeply. They had completed stage one perfectly!

A little while later the 4 of them slithered their way around to the back door entrance of the cottage which faced south towards the bull fields. "We don't have much time. We have to act before we're found out." cautioned Skilord. "First let's listen for sounds of how many people are in inside." The others were too nervous to say anything. A group of hooting pigeons on the upper walkway as well as a couple near the door, did not help their acoustics. Dexters tried to shoo them away without much luck.

They could faintly hear happy female voices coming from the top floor where they knew the jaccuzzi room was, but nothing else. "The cottage is well built and insulated making listening difficult so let's wait just a bit more to make sure the bottom floor is clear." said Skilord.

Then a man's voice could be heard, "Forgorin, can I have a word with you?"

"Sure, but wait a second will ya? I'm all hot and need to grab a drink." came another voice, probably Forgorin's.

"The drink can wait. I'm quite upset with you shooting up the birds in the coffee plantation. You do know that this is a criminal offense in the Cartel territories. As well, I am an avid bird watcher and will NOT stand by and watch you murder these innocent little creatures. Besides, you're supposed to be outside watching this place all the time."

"Vova, just f*ck off."

"I'll see to it that you are removed from our security post."

Outside the back, Skilord aimed his gun at the nearest pigeon and blew its head off, the gun was too quiet to be heard inside.

Chrisius whisper-screamed at Skilord. "What the bleeding hell are you doing that for, especially now?"

Skilord picked up the dead pigeon, opened the door and tossed it in. From their brief glimpse inside before shutting the door, they could see it was a kind of band room with a drum set, keyboard and several guitars on the wall. Just a moment later footsteps coming down the stairs could be heard.

"#&@* $@%& *%&#@!!! Forgorin get down here now or I'll shoot you myself!"

Footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs followed by many more curses and the only descernable words were "...bird...shot again... I'm gonna make you pay..." This was followed by the sounds of a violent struggle.

The commandos outside began to grin, all except Skilord who kept concentrating and listening. Suddenly Skilord exploded into action. He opened the door and ran inside in a full sprint. The other 3 were shocked for a second and then followed up behind him to cover his back.

Vova was lying on the floor with Forgorin on top of him. Both of them were choking the life out of each other using both hands. Forgorin's face had turned a deep crimson red with all his viens and arteries at bursting point while Vova was so blue in the face he was turning purple, augmented by big bruises on his forehead and nose from his previous rumble with Morallis. It was a struggle to see who could last the longest without air or bloodflow.

Skilord wasted no time in grabbing an electric guitar off the wall, and wielding it like a baseball bat, he bashed both of the combatants over the head several times each. They were completely knocked out. He took out a spool of duct tape and a couple of pairs of handcuffs from his backpack and slapped a pair onto a wrist of each victim. Then he wrapped the thick grey tape around and around their heads to cover up their mouths and cut of the end using his k-bar knife.

"Help me drag these fellows to those water pipes over there. And make sure they're at least a couple of meters apart when you latch them on it." said Skilord who had clearly become the leader of the group.

The Guitarist walked up so close to Skilord that their noses almost touched. "If I ever see you wreck another guitar again, the only manmade sounds from earth audible in space will be your screams of agony."

Skilord turned away from him without a word. With that done they checked all the rooms on the first floor to make sure there was no one in them. Then they slowly headed up the stairs as quietly as possible.

Like all of the first floor, the stairs and walls of second floor were all made out of stained wood in a very old-fashioned homely style. It looked more like a doll's house than the house of an evil drug cartel boss. Having gone up the stairs, they came into a hallway that stretched all the way across the second level with doors in either side.

"Let's listen at each door before entering. If you hear a sound inside, throw in a flashbang before entering with your gun out and pointing where you are looking at all times." said Skilord.

So they went door to door until...

"There's someone in here!" Dexters was still whispering but at such a level that he might as well been talking normally.

"Great, nice of you to let them know we're here too." said The Guitarist.

The four gathered outside the door while Dexters took out a flashbang from his pack and pulled its pin out. "Um, how long until it goes off?"

"Read the number on it!" Skilord gritted his teeth in frustration.

"Where's the number?"

Chrisius grabbed the flashbang out of Dexters' hand, opened the door partways and tossed in the grenade. Not a second later it came right back out, having been tossed back by whoever was inside.

BANG! The incredible flash and ear busting effect of it cooking off sent the 4 of them reeling and holding their hands over their ears with eyes tight shut.

"You fool!" yelled Skilord.

After about 30 seconds they were starting to see again with a big black spot in the middle of their vision. Their ears were so numb it felt like they were wearing ear plugs.

The door was now fully open and infront of them stook a middle-aged hispanic woman in shabby clothes. She was fat with big cheeks like a squirrel loaded with nuts from a successful hunt. She was just standing there looking sheepish, trying to figure out who these 4 stooges were clamouring about trying to regain their senses.

The Guitarist ran up to her and punched her in the face, making her big cheeks jiggle. "Here's for nearly blowing our eardrums out!"

"No, what are doing? She's just a maid!" shouted Chrisius, too late.

The woman responded surprisingly fast. She crouched down and charged at The Guitarist head first, getting caught in a reverse headlock. Utilizing the inertia from her charge, Guitarist let himself fall backwards and slammed the top of her head onto the hardwood floor. With them both on the floor, the maid swung a leg over his torso and managed to wrestle his arms under her knees. She then proceeded to pound him in the face repeatedly with big punches.

Chrisius tried to grab her by the shoulders to pull her off but Skilord prevented him.

"Remember he's a duelist. You must let him fight alone no matter what is happening." cautioned Skilord who was actually hoping the maid would win the fight after the threat he had received earlier during the guitar incident.

Soon enough, the maid was satisfied with her work and went back to cleaning, leaving her opponent ko'ed on the floor.

Once The Guitarist was revived they went on with the room-clearing until all of second floor was secured. Only the maid was left there, dusting off the porcelain.

"Okay, next is the top floor. This is definitely gonna involve some action so keep your heads cool and only I use flashbangs from here on. We need to move fast because wherever Mendez is, he definitely knows we're here now." said Skilord.

"Sounds like you know what you're doing so lead on please." said Chrisius.

They walked on up the stairs, not trying to be so quiet considering all the noise they had made so far had probably alerted everyone within 10 km of the cottage. The 3rd floor opened up into a room with a sofa and a coffee table supporting an electronic clock and a vase stuffed full of fresh wild flowers. The wooden floor had some fine carpets laid on it and there were 2 closed doors.

Skilord pointed at one door and said, "Judging by the humidity and moist wood smell, that door leads to the jaccuzzi where Mendez spends his afternoons, so the other door probably goes to the change rooms. There's no sound coming from it because they're probably listening to us. Let's clear the change room first."

The change rooms were filled with clothes and personal belongings but no one was there so they prepared to enter the jaccuzzi.

"Flashbang 'em first I reckon. This is a 5 second baby." said The Guitarist holding one out for Skilord.

"Yes, but you pull the pin, wait 3 seconds, then toss it to me gently while I open the door and throw it in. After that we're gonna hose this joint down with fire and then you three are gonna run in and mop-up while I stand guard out here to."

The Guitarist pulled the pin and tossed the flashbang to Skilord who hurled the flashbang into the slightly opened door as hard as he could to make sure it bounced around enough that no one could pick it up. The commandos held their hands over their ears.

An almighty bang came from inside the jaccuzzi room. "Now, everyone riddle the room with fire!" yelled The Guitarist.

So they all leveled their machineguns at the wall and opened up. Chrisius, however, pulled very hard on the trigger and nothing happened. "Bollocks! My gun's jammed!"

Skilord reached over and flicked the fire selector switch from safety to full-auto and Chrisius joined in the shooting. The wall was soon completely peppered with bullet holes and their magazines ran dry. "Reload!" commanded Skilord.

The Guitarist, still full of spunk, kicked in the heavily damaged door, and they all rushed in except Skilord, pointing their guns this way and that. In the middle of the room was a fairly big jaccuzzi with mountains of bubbles overflowing out of it and down the timber stairs all around the pool.

"Damn, there's no one here!" said Dexters.

"Oh they're here all right. Just wait for them to run out of breath." said Chrisius.

The 3 of them stood around the pool and kept their weapons pointing at the mounds of suds. Sure enough, some gals heads came up through the bubbles, gasping for air. The commandos could see they were naked and they felt excited.

"Keep waiting, that Mendez character hasn't come up yet." said Chrisius, taking over the leadership role.

But he never came up.

"Okay, we need someone to get in there and feel around for him."

The Guitarist and Dexters both dropped their guns and raced into the water still fully clothed. They felt around in detail, quite enjoying the task. The women, still in shock from the flashbang and shooting, just whimpered and tried to shuffle away from the 2 brigands.

"Nope, only nice smooth skin in here, no hairy rough stuff like Mendez is covered in." concluded Dexters.

At that moment, they heard a couple of thumps and a cry of pain from Skilord just outside the door. Just as they turned around to see what happened, the door slammed shut.

The 3 of them stood there staring at the door with wide eyes. "Bloody hell, I think something bad happened to our man out there." said Chrisius.

"I think our goose is cooked now." said Dexters, too scared to even get out of the pool and pick up his gun.

Then came more sounds, like something being ripped apart.

"Oh my lord, now he's being ripped apart!" Dexters was really scared now. He hugged a gal next to him as if that would help somehow. The Guitarist got out, retrieved his weapon and pointed it at the door the same as Chrisius was doing. It was a tough choice for him: a chance to light up some punks or stay in a jaccuzzi full of naked women, but with his survival included in the deal he made his decision.

Then the door burst open.

*************************************
I guess this is too long again

[ChrisiusMaximus]

That my good friend was much better, it flowed much more smoothly and the gags were spot on.

[forgorin]

great keep it up

[Kaos XIII]

Hi!

Too bad for Skiloaf. They should have never let that maid go, especially after she beat down the guitar-playing dude.

[vovan]

Great stuff, scratch. I agree with Chris the funny bits were particularly good in this one.

[unscratchedfoot]

Thanks for your comments. Chrisius and Vova, the next part is not funny. And Kaos, don't assume anything yet about Skilord or the maid.

********************************************


"OMG!! It's a freaking mummy!!!" shrieked Dexters setting the women off screaming. The panic-inducing cacophony coupled with the sight of a completely wrapped head coming at them had the 3 commandos frozen in place gaping in horror.

"Don't shoot!" Chrisius came to his senses first. "It's Skilord, look at the silly beachwear."

"What the living hell is going on anyways? I almost blew him away!" said The Guitarist.

Skilord stood there jerking about with his hands handcuffed behind him and his head entirely covered in his own duct tape with only one tiny gap left open on the side of head pointing forward with a digital display visible from it. It was counting down from 0:59 second by second. Skilord was clearly struggling and emitted a terrible moaning sound in an utterly vain attempt to escape his bonds.

"He's in pain." said Dexters.

"No way, he's trying to talk to us. Bloody hell! I know I why! That's a bomb strapped to his head and he's trying to warn us! Everyone get outta here now!" shouted Chrisius.

The commandos, along with the women, all panicked and ran pellmell through the bullet-ridden doorway without a thought as to what might be waiting on the other side for them. They were falling over each other charging for the stairwell to escape. Mendez, standing at the top of the stairs, had other plans for them.

The notorius cartel boss stood there skrawny and hairy, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts, sandals and the shades he never seemed to depart with. In his hands was Skilord's machinegun.

"Hold up there! Easy does it."

Chrisius and The Guitarist almost crashed right into him as they skidded on the carpet and fell. The rest of the group piled up on top of them with Skilord following up, still grunting away trying to talk.

"Get out the way you hairy freak before the bomb goes off!" yelled The Guitarist.

Mendez just stood there leaning against the wall and said, "Notice anything missing from this room?" He took particular pleasure in messing with people's minds when they were under stress.

Still in a panic, their heads jerked back and forth looking about the room trying to figure out what he was talking about.

The Guitarist relaxed and let out a deep sigh. "We've been had. That's the clock off the table taped to Sky's head. Ain't no bomb."

Mendez waited while they cursed about their stupidity, and a couple of the women, blondes, were still saying, "Huh? I don't get it. Why doesn't it explode?"

"Okay you twits, drop whatever weapons you haven't already left behind in your panic and then put your hands behind your backs." They did as they were told and he used the thick duct tape to secure their hands behind them.

While taping Dexters' hands together Mendez asked, "Any more handcuffs anyone?"

"I believe Skilord was carrying 3 pairs and that's all we had." answered Chrisius.

"Right, so you party crashers intended to capture Vova, Forgorin and myself." Mendez snickered. "And I beat you with a spool of tape and an alarm clock." Lots more snickering followed.

He unzipped the backpack on Chrisius and yanked out his k-bar combat knife. "I told you fools to drop all your weapons didn't I?" He cut a line through the tape around Skilord's head and then ripped it all off with Skilord crying out in pain from the tape quite reluctantly departing from his skin and taking a good lot of his hair with it. Meanwhile the women rushed into the change room.

"Let's all head on down the stairs and out of the cottage. I've got a little party planned for you, and I'll just let you know that it sure doesn't involve molesting other people's women in jaccuzzis that don't belong to you."

Once outside, he herded the 4 hogtied commandos towards the small river filled with piranha. "While you were busy conducting urban warfare against my maid and terrorizing my kittens, I prepared a special treat for ya."

And so the line of unhappy party-goers tramped along through the brush and foilage. Mendez put his arm around Chrisius's shoulders, looked down at his 'Wanted Dead: Mendez' shirt and said with a grin, "That's a real sweet T you got on there." He chuckled and Chrisius chuckled along too, actually in terrified anticipation of some cruel punishment he expected to follow just like in the movies. But none came. Mendez just gave him a couple pats on the back and continued on chuckling.

Back in the jungle next to the river, there was a table set up with lines of white powder on it next to a plastic bag full of the same powder. Over the river was a narrow board going from one side to the other. A party of sorts was awaiting its guests. The 4 of them stood there feeling dread and helplessness with their hands tied behind them with a river filled with razorsharp death infront of them. Mendez sat down with his back against the trunk of a palm tree.

"Okay first I'll explain how we're going to play this game which is called River Roulette. I've done it several times already with other hitmen and commie prisoners. I'm gonna give you all a chance to walk out of here alive. One by one you're gonna snort a line of cocaine off the table and then make your way over the balancing beam going across that river and then come back again. As you already know, the river is teaming with hungry piranha ready to rip the flesh off your bones." Mendez smiled at them. "So don't fall in. Once everyone's done, you snort another line and start the fun all over again, continuing until only one of you remains uneaten. Any questions?"

They all gulped and started sweating heavily.

"So what are these piranha like anyways?" asked The Guitarist. Both sides of his face were swelling up from the beating the maid gave him.

"The species we got in here are red belly piranha. They are extremely aggressive and erractic. The adults are all about 1 foot, or 30 cm if you prefer, in length. They are always hungry. I saw a cow stumble into the river once and its bones were picked clean in about 30 seconds. Anything else?"

"What's the cocaine gonna do to us?" asked Dexters.

"You ain't never done cocaine? I'm surprised given your lack of brainmatter. After the first line you're gonna feel more alert and energetic than you've ever felt in your life. The balancing exercise'll even feel easy on the first go. However, after 4 or 5 lines, your muscles will start spasming involuntarily as your brain cooks from the overload. A junkie who's getting used to the effects of cocaine might make it through maybe 4 cycles of balancing, but for you newbies, I bet you become fish feed within 2 or 3 goes. I'm getting hungry so let's get this show over with before my dinnertime. How about you go first since your faggoty screams of pain hurt my ears just before." Mendez pointed at Skilord.

Skilord dragged his feet up to the table and stood there staring off into the jungle in intense concentration.

"Scared aren't ya? Do I need to put a bullet into a non-vital part of ya to get you moving?" asked Mendez.

"No, I was just wondering what that water pump system next to the river a little downstream is for. We saw it on the way in."

"Yes, that supplies water to the outdoor swimming pool. As you probably know, the Treaty of Landing prohibits the use of any kind of chemicals in the water or on the land for agriculture so the pool's filled with fresh water only. It's a bit cool sometimes, especially after the spring run-off from the mountains but its good for swimming about 10 months a year."

"So it's continually pumping filtered water to the pool to keep it clean?"

"That's right. Look, I'm really loving this chat but if you don't mind..."

"My father manages his own aquatic pipeline engineering company. I might be able to get you set up with a temperature controlled long life charcoal filtering system to make it useable year round with better water quality."

Mendez started nodding. He was thinking. "You know I might just take you up on that offer. So are you gonna have it installed free of charge?"

"Of course. We'll even guarantee it for 3 years with yearly maintenance checks."

"Go sit yourself down over in the shade and take off those cuffs." Mendez tossed him a little key and Skilord awkwardly turned around to try and catch it with his cuffed hands.

"And I'm the best guitarist you'll ever meet!" blurted out The Guitarist.

"Well big whoopity doo-da for you. Step up to the table please." said Mendez.

"Seriously, I can teach you to play in no time with my expertise and the women really dig it!"

"Well my kittens back in the jaccuzzi thought you were nothing but a perverted hooligan. I don't think I need lessons on womanizing from you buddy."

"C'mon man, think about it. A moment of entertainment of seeing me being eaten versus a lifetime of entertainment playing any guitar to wish me to teach you."

"Hmmm, alright, alright. I'll give you a chance. The waterpipe expert'll help untape you." Mendez looked at Chrisius and Dexters. "Since these tits are jamming out of my fun game, what are you two good for?"

"I'm a builder. I ran my own construction company before joining the Royal Armed Forces planning staff." answered Chrisius.

Mendez gestered towards the cottage, of which only a bit of the roof was visible through the jungle foilage from where they were. "You see that? I don't need any more carpenters. I already got the best. Got anything else you can impress me with?"

They were lost for words. Dexters looked particularly glum. His father had worked his way up through all the ranks of the army to become a high ranking general in good favor with the Queen before he retired. He had helped Dexters and his best friend Chrisius to join the planning staff without going through the army from the bottom up.

"Maybe I'll just have you two go for a little swim then."

"No, wait! Please give us a task! Anything will do!" begged Dexters.

"Let me think. Ah yes! We've been having a problem lately in the city of Powder Keg. Some kind of bacteria has gotten into the local water supply and is causing widespread diarrhea. There's a large government run daycare centre which looks after children of soldiers at the front and the cleaning staff there are having a heck of a time keeping up with the mess. I'm gonna have you two take over the cleaning of the diarrhea encrusted toilets."

Chrisius and Dexters both looked at the river, trying to decide which was the lessor of two evils.

"More spattered pans." grumbled Chrisius with a deep sigh.

"How long will this job last for?" asked Dexters.

Mendez answered, "Until your friends finish the water system and teaching me how to play the guitar. Then you're free to leave."


Later that evening, Mendez walked into the room where Vova and Forgorin were handcuffed to the water pipes. He took out the keys he had gotten from Skilord's backpack and released Vova. All the while he cursed and insulted them for having failed in their duty. "Now get the f*ck outta here!!" he barked at Vova and slammed the door behind him as he left.

Vova stayed just outside the door to eavesdrop. Mendez didn't release Forgorin; in fact, he was making him scream in pain!

"Aaaaaaaaaiiiyaaaaaaagaaaaaaa!"

"Tell me, where is you mentor?"

"If I tell you I'll have to kill you." Forgorin's voice was weak with pain.

"I don't think you are in a position to make threats."

"F*ck off and die hippy scum!"

Crack!

"Aaaagaaahaaguya!"

"Now, I'm gonna keep breaking parts of you and when you pass out you're going to the piranhas. Tell me what I want and I will have a medic see to your injuries and then set you free."

"Ah... ah... oh... he's lives on the mountain of Pushun south of Chop Sup city in the Asian territory."

Crack! And another big scream followed.

"Lie again and you go to the fishes."

"He... he lives... under... Stars 'N Stripes mall in Raytheon city." Vova heard a clump from Forgorin passing out from the pain of his wounds.

Raytheon city, like many other cities, was named after one of the loyalist companies which helped to support the American government after the split between the USA and The Corporation. The latter clan was formed by the American corporate 'Axis of Evil' including Microsoft, Walmart and MacDonald's and was joined by many other companies like Exxon and Coca-Cola, desperate to survive.


The next day, Vova was on the second floor of the cottage on security patrol when he heard some talking coming from downstairs. He crept to the stairwell and peeked down between the railing and saw Forgorin, his right arm completely wrapped up and in a sling, talking to the maid with the fat cheeks who was holding a cleaning rag. He was handing her a wad of greenbacks.

Usually the workers here do private jobs for only a few dollars. thought Vova. This must certainly be a difficult task he is asking her to do. Or is it for something she's already done?

[forgorin]

Cant wait to meet my mentor! He He more toilet duties for the duo! What will happen next? Great good fun. ittle seriouse but great.

[ChrisiusMaximus]

Oh well, sigh.

[vovan]

Good stuff. Keep the goods coming along, please, scratch.

[unscratchedfoot]

I'm going to continue this story in another story thread. This one is too convoluted with steadily decreasing number of readers, and I can make it into something better only focussing on the sniper story. The new story will be called "The Hit".

Also, I'm not going to use any writers' names because I think some of them were offended as I noted Dexters, skiloaf and the guitarist have stopped reading my story. So the next story will be very serious with no humor at all, like grade 11 biology class with Mr. Hainsworth except more interesting. The storyline will be almost the same with some changes and it will start exactly where this one left off. New readers won't need to read this though to understand it.

So look out for it!

[Kaos XIII]

Originally posted by unscratchedfoot
So the next story will be very serious with no humor at all, like grade 11 biology class with Mr. Hainsworth except more interesting.

Hi!

Grade 11 biology class, definately had no humor , or is it humour.

Anyway, I'll miss the funny stuff, especially the highly trained "Diarrhea Cleansers."

Looking forward to "The Hit."

[unscratchedfoot]

With one exception, Lazarus the Gimp will show up in the next story because his part as Forgorin's mentor is irreplaceable. Also, I may finish off this story from the game perspective like the Hoth situation and Corny, the toilet pros, etc.

Will Corny ever reap what he sows?

[ChrisiusMaximus]

He ought to !

[TheDarkCavalier]

This is AWESOME!!!

[forgorin]

What ever you do I hope that you also finish this thread in game !

[unscratchedfoot]

Village Defence


Vova looked around at the tall leafy trees waving in the hot, dry afternoon wind. After the failure of him and the bodyguards to protect Mendez's cottage from intrusion, he had been reassigned to the field as the captain of a newly formed tank brigade. The squawk of some birds grabbed his attention briefly. He help up his binoculars to help identify them. Yellow-billed magpies, common in this region.

He put down his binoculars and had a quick look over the 200 new recruits just sent up from boot camp. They were all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed just as Vova himself had been when he joined the regular army for the first time, years ago. The stood at attention not moving at all, even their eyes stared straight ahead in the manner drilled into them by their drill instructors.

The village was an abandoned attempt by the Russians to expand into FARC territory. The war had forced many cartel hispanics back out of the country of stubby rolling hills, countless fields partitioned by fences, bushes and huge oak trees. The Russians had tried several times to colonize this no-man's land but were treated in kind by the FARC, at no small cost to the latter.

"Pick your tanks and stay with your assigned crews!" Vova had finished the usual pep talk and watched the newbie crews running pellmell towards the 50 tanks, hoping to be first to grab the best ones. For the tanks were not all equal. It was obvious from the chorus of curses when the crewmen realized this.

"#$@*&!! There's no laser rangefinder and ballistic computer in this thing! And where're the intercoms and headsets?"

Another rant from another tank, "No machineguns!?! Both the .30 and the 7.62 coaxil are missing! There's an old bolt-action rifle fitted to the machine port instead with another old rifle attached to the turret on top. This is gonna be nice."

Yet another, "You know what's worse? There's no cushioning on the driver's seat, just springs sticking up from a metal plate! How am I supposed to sit on that and drive over the bumpy ground!?!"

"Ours has the rangefinder and computer, but not only are the damn things broken beyond any hope of repair, there are flecks of blood and ripped uniform dried onto the sides of the interior! I thought these were supposed to be new tanks!"

Vova called out, "You sound like a gaggle of women in a handbag store on bargain day. Just be happy with what you're getting. Some of the tanks are new and some are recovered tanks that were lost in battle. The reason for the lack of equipment is that the munitions and electionics suppliers can't keep up with either the armor production factories or the attrition from fighting a 3-front war. All the good parts go to the veteran divisions."

Vova waited for the curses and and complaining among the crews to die down before continuing. "If you look to the ammo storage tubes to the left of the driver and the back of the turret you will see that each tank has only 4 rounds in it. According to statistics, that's all the average tank gets to fire before it is destroyed."

Then came man more curses and load moaning. "We don't have much time to prepare. Recon reports a Russian battle group coming to clear out this village for reappropriation and will be here within the hour. Your task is too take out as many of them as you can before you go down under fire. They are heading here with 3 battalions of T-90 tanks with plenty of infantry supporting it. I'm going to retire to a nice villa well to the rear of the village to do some bird watching. Good luck, although it won't change the outcome for you at all. I've assigned 2 squads of military police armed with heavy machine guns and Dragon anti-tank missiles to watch from behind for retreaters, giver-upers or deserters. All will be destroyed. And don't try driving away because the fuel tanks are almost empty."

The new crewmen had been recently drafted into the army to replace the appalling losses and they were not prepared to be smitten in their first engagement. An atmosphere of doom crushed their spirits to the point that they no longer even complained hardly at all.

An officer assigned to assist Vova said in a low voice, "Cap'n, was it necessary to add in that last part?"

"Of course. I've been reading Cornwallis's 'Military Master' recently and have learned a lot about leadership and tactics. I'm just going by the book."

"Ok sir, as long as you know what you are doing."

Vova and the officer turned around and started to get into a jeep when a voice called out.

"Captain Vova, I have another good idea to go along with that!" It was a tank commander named, Matthew Hayden.

"Well out with it then!"

"If we're all gonna be cooked within an hour, why have 4 crews to operated gutted tanks? I think 2 is plenty for each tank so the other half can be spared."

Vova looked thoughtful for a moment and then replied, "Excellent idea soldier. Every tank remit 2 crewmen to me and I want only the loudest crewmen. That's right, decide on the 2 loudest of each crew and send them to me. And hurry up with it!"

There was great excitement among the crewmen, suddenly dispelling the previous gloom, as they all assumed they would be the ones selected to be spared from the coming fight to the death. Great bellows, hollars and hoops came from each tank as the members competed to be the loudest.

The din continued for some time and nothing being decided, Vova got impatient and fired a round from his pistol into the air to get their attention. "Decide by straws if you yahoos can't figure it out!"

So one member of each crew assembled 4 straws from dried grass on the ground next to the tanks and hid them between their hands for the others to pull them out by their tips. Either the longest or shortest decided the lucky ones.

Finally the 100 winners were assembled behind the tanks, giddy with relief. "About time you ladies got it together. Alright now, lets all head into the village. Follow me, and run!" Vova led them in his jeep through the streets.

They arrived at a large, shabby wooden warehouse. Once inside the dark musty shack, illuminated only by sunbeams poking through cracks in the walls and the open front doors. "Here are stacked all the arms we captured from the Russian colonists we drove outa here. They've been slated for destruction but we can still use them. Grab a gun each."

The men, very reluctantly and with growing remorse, picked up the antiquated rifles and rusty submachine guns.

"If you're lucky there might still be a round or two left in 'em but I doubt it. You're gonna head on out infront of the tanks and get yourselves into those trenches going around the village. Those are irrigation ditches which the Russian farmers seem to have used for shoveling chicken dung into. It'll be mixed with the water keeping it moist enough for you to sink into. You'll be up to your waist in the slop if you kneel in the low ditches but it'll protect you a bit. Be careful about Russian high-explosive rounds setting of the sulphuric gas building up in those ditches."

The 'winners' looked like they'd been sentenced to death. Actually, they kind of were really.

One worried, wavering voice spoke up, the voice of a tiny hope of deliverance. "Sir, why did you want 'the loudest' people to come forth?"

"Ah yes, thanks for reminding me. Because the guns have no ammo, when the Russians attack, I want you all to point your guns at them and yell Bang! Bang! as loud as you can so they think you're shooting at them. I learned this ingenious tactic from the book 'Military Master'. Therefore, the Russians will waste time taking you out so that our tanks survive long enough to fire off their rounds. Hurry up now! I'll tell my 2 MP squads to make sure you all get into position."

[ChrisiusMaximus]

where oh where do you get your inspiration from Scratch

[vovan]

Awesome stuff, scratch.

[unscratchedfoot]

Three Stooges and an Errand Boy



Paddy the Scot gulped as he approached one of the double door entrances to the military college lecture hall where Lord Cornwallis was giving a VIP guest lecture to a class of freshmen. It was one of the biggest lecture rooms with up to 400 students in class. Even from outside, Paddy had no difficulty in hearing Corny's voice being amplified through the mike.

"As we military folks you and I all know, amateurs talk tactics while experts talk logistics. But the true masters of warfare talk diometric ergonomics. It is the amateurs and so-called experts who then ask, 'what is diometric ergonomics?' It's easy to spot a fool isn't it?" Corny gave a sarcastic chuckle and the audience joined him.

Laughing loudest though not sure why were the keeners in the front row, who read the textbook 'Military Master' like it was the bible itself. Towards the back of the class, the laughter faded into eyes rolling upwards or others too spaced out to hear what was going on. Fans or not, most of the students were amused by Corny's endless tales of crushing military victories he and his fellow British generals had carried out during the war in Siberia during the global warming flood by following Corny's apparently brilliant strategies.

Paddy eased open the door and waved his arms to try and grab Corny's attention at the other end of the large downward slanting, semi-circle hall. Corny looked up and with an irritated look and then said with faked cheefulness, "Excuse me for a moment everyone. There is a matter of extreme urgency I must attend to concerning military matters."

With long strides skipping 3 stairs at a time and holding his ever-present walking cane in one hand, Corny made his way to the back of the room.

Once outside, Corny became livid. Paddy was not well-liked among the upper echelon of officers mostly due to his friendship with Chrisius and Dexters. "Do you mind explaining to me young man why you had the nerve to interrupt my presentation with no doubt some more of your ignorant..." Corny stopped sputtering as 2 more generals, dressed in the same dull brown uniform as Corny, came around the corner on queue. They had deliberately set up the low-ranking Paddy to call on Corny to avoid angering him themselves.

Immediately forgeting about the interruption, Corny smiled gayly and called out, "Roger and Jack! It's always a pleasure to see you two fellows! I was just lecturing another round of nitwits who are thoroughly sold on my book it seems. That was a jolly good time we had in the whirlpool last night wasn't it?"

"Um sir, you better turn off your collar mike." said Paddy, trying to resist smirking at the rising chatter coming from the lecture hall.

"Tsk!" Corny panicked and grabbed at the small wireless mike attached to his collar to shut it off. "I always forget this bloody thing."

The 2 tall, slender generals were similar to Corny, not surprising since the 3 of them were drinking pals going all the way back to their own student days. Roger and Jack both had completely shaved heads except for small tufts of hair left under their lower lips unlike Corny's waxed mustache, but they walked in the same haughty manner as Corny, taking long strides and pushing their heads back as far as they would go and their highly decorated bony chests forward.

The trio was well-known for going to a bar called The Merry Taxpayer at precisely 9:30 pm on Wednesday and Saturday to exchange gossip. In the latest session listened to by most of the customers there at the time, in between bellows of laughter they bragged in turn about their most imaginative punishments they dolled out on soldiers and officers at every chance. Ranking their best, Corny was in 3rd place with his idea of fixing the menu to cause rampant diarrhea and then ordering Chrisius and Dexters to clean the splattered toilets the next day. In second place was Jack who had caught a group of graduates having a Military Master book burning party. They had to write out the whole book 3 times before being released from prison and they lost their degrees. In first place was Roger, notorius for his embarrassing punishments. His idea was on Ladies Night, when all the female support staff and friends come to the barracks for a beer garden, he forced a group of fellows slated for punishment to skip around the barracks doing The Bucking Donkey which involved bucking like a horse, slapping their buttocks in the process and yelling like a donkey at the top of their lungs 'heehaw' for several hours while being followed by military police. Several were given lashes for not heehawing loud enough.

Roger returned Corny's gay smile and said, "That was quite a gaggle of sweet young gals you brought along. Anyways, we're here to tell you about a chance that's come up for you to yet again dazzle the world with your brilliance."

"Well don't keep me waiting for the good news." clucked Corny.

"Kaos' tank and mechanized infantry divisions have won a critical battle on the Hoth plateau against the Germans and although having suffered severe losses and been almost wiped out in the process, they are in position to easily take the central city of Hoth which is only lightly garrisoned. You see Lord, the German's northern army was destroyed in the battle and it will take them quite some time to send up another army from their southern strongholds."

"Yes yes, excellent. I can remove Kaos as commander, assume command myself and then declare a great victory once the city's been taken. Oh my, this is a goody indeed! The people will love me! And you 3 of course will accompany me, including the errand boy." Corny's smile vanished as he glanced at Paddy to make sure he knew where his place was.

"There's just one hitch to the plan." Said Jack.

"Oh dear. And what is that?"

"The only way to get us there on time is to parachute in. Its out of helicopter range. And we can't fly in on a military transport for obvious security reasons. Therefore I've booked us first class on China Airlines because the Asians are on good terms with the Germans at the moment and won't risk being shot down. And it's economy class for you know who." Jack tipped his shiny head sideways in Paddy's direction.

"Well if that's the best you can arrange then we'll have to go for it. When was the last time any of us did an airdrop?" asked Corny.

"During basic training many years ago. But don't worry. It's pretty easy. You're not scared are you?" asked Jack with a grin.

"No no no not at all. I'm just concerned for your safety." Corny was so pale that Paddy wondered if there was any blood left at all in his head. Normally Corny avoided flying at all costs so to go all the way and do a parachute jump must have distressed him all the more.

[ChrisiusMaximus]

I hope something awful is about to happen to that old git Corny.

[Kaos XIII]

"Because the guns have no ammo, when the Russians attack, I want you all to point your guns at them and yell Bang! Bang!"



ALL RIGHT!!!

Good to see the UK Royal Service back in business.

The 'Military Master' does seem destined for something awful.

[vovan]

Oh man... After beating in hysterical laughter for a while, I had trouble getting up from the floor to type something in praise.

[forgorin]

There I've read them so back off! Great i hope that corny gets it. What ever happened to The shoping mall?

[unscratchedfoot]

forgorin, were you like fighting with your wife or something when you posted that? It sounds like you typed part of your fighting rhetoric in with your post.

As for the story and whether Corny will be appraised, I will just say that there is going to be some heavy-duty grief coming up. But as for who actually suffers the grief, I'm not authorized to say at this time.