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The M-Team


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Sadly, the hard work does not end there. With the bugs gone in an orgy of lead and splattering fluid, there is still the country to revolutionise, a queen to overthrow, soldiers to kill, and of course, Mammon is still king.

 

With a lot of my more expensive mercs getting a bit short in the contract, the pressure is on to keep everyone paid. Now that the bugs are taken care of Drassen mine is up and running and I'm pulling in $17k a day, it's not so bad, but I still need a lot of cash, fast. To this end, Ira, Dimitri, Flo and Biff are to rotate as unshitly as possible from Drassen to Gabby and sell all those bits of creature left over from the Arulco-Crepitan War. M-Team move off to San Mona, loaded down with surplus weaponry and ammunition. S-Team cower in Drassen, using repairs as an excuse for their cowardice.

 

Naturally, upon arriving in San Mona, and knowing we need money very badly indeed, Barry insists upon pissing six grand up the wall on ammunition.

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Admittedly, it is 4.7mm for his G11, and the stuff isn't exactly thick on the ground, but bloody hell. $875 a mag? That's $17.50 a round. If only I could deduct misses from his wages...still, at 50 rounds per mag, he won't be running out soon, and he can carry more ammo than anyone else for his weapon, given the same space.

 

I manage to make a profit, just, from weapon and ammo sales, and creature guts fetch a decent price, so there's a nice little cherry on top at the end of the day, but it's going to take some belt-tightening to get through the next week or so.

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Barry appears to have nothing but wallet denting on his mind, insisting upon another six grand splashed out on the latest explosives.

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Can't have Gumpy showing him up at the next demolition derby.

 

And just when I was starting to exercise some fiscal responsibility, along comes one of the game's best force multipliers.

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The Talon UGL takes up two attachment slots on an assault rifle, but is well worth it, rendering the M79 obsolete. While it doesn't make carrying the big fat 40mm grenades any easier, it makes using them relatively painless, incorporating their launch platform into a weapon you're already carrying, at a very reasonable weight cost. Don't leave home base without it.

 

Oh, Enrico.

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Especially given your attempts to liberate it.

 

M-Team and S-Team probe unexplored sectors in an attempt to be inexpensive, and while S-Team, to their delight, find bugger all, M-Team come across a SAM site.

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Poised on the coast, the SAMs cover a good chunk of north-west Arulco.

 

The boys sneaky sneaky close, and spot a fence.

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"Wirecutters." hisses Grizzly.

 

"Wirecutters." Barry passes it on.

 

"Wirecutters." Danny turns to Bull.

 

"Wirecutters." Bull looks at Conrad.

 

"Wirecutters." Conrad looks at Malice expectantly.

 

"Az if I woold risk stretching moi jacket wiz zuch tings." Malice tuts.

 

Grizzly's groan is loud enough to alert any nearby sentries. "For God's sake. And we're supposed to be professionals."

 

Rebellious mutterings point out that if Grizzly is so bloody clever he should have remembered them.

 

"Fine." Grizzly loads a 40mm HE into his UGL. "Conrad, Malice, swim out to the island, provide covering fire from there. I'll breach the fence with my brand spanking new piece of sex, and we'll storm the compound. Synchronise watches."

 

But what's this?

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A nearby sentry storms in, only to receive a pair of 4.7mm nipple piercings. "Well, that's torn it." Grizzly mutters, and lets the fence have it.

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Malice and Conrad cover the advance, surgical shots and sprayed bursts respectively, while Grizzly reloads his UGL and hurries to catch up with the others.

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Taking advantage of the uproar, Malice and Conrad paddle out and set up on the island, able to cover the majority of the compound. Spotting enemies loitering near the launchers, they stop any MacGyver-style shenanigans with bullets.

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Malice, scoping the compound, spots an enemy inside the nearest building, poised to blast the assault team as they pass the window, and promptly intitiates a lead-swapping project, which he wins.

 

The assault team, alerted to the possibility of enemies in the building, decide to clear it. Barry, salivating, deploys a generous dab of HMX.

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If the enemy inside was dead before, he's pate now. The building cleared, they quickly slip among the launchers, and Malice and Conrad brave the salty sea again.

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The rest of the site proves to be empty, apart from a single idiot still dutifully manning the gate.

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"Well, he certainly guard-dead that gate." Bull joked.

 

Everyone looked slightly embarrassed.

 

"Arr Eee Ess Pee Eee Cee Tee, homes." Conrad stood over the body, fingers spiked in the manner of a finger puppeteer with arthiritis.

 

Textbook, apart from it going wrong to start with. Only light wounds, and another of Deidranna's installations conquered. Grizzly and Conrad begin press-ganging people headed for San Mona and Chitzena into the militia to guard the site.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/concluded.jpg

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  • 3 months later...

The Idiots (no, not the seminal film by Lars von Trier, but Biff, Ira, Flo and Dimitiri) arrive back at Cambria, looking for Carmen (the opera) or whatever his name is. Instead, they find Rat, a man whose fake tan ends where his hairline used to be ten years ago.

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Getting any form of conversation out of him proves impossible for Biff. An attempt to recruit him ends in a promise of a relationship.

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Biff, striving to assert masculinity he does not have, does his level best to beat Rat to death, and after this mild soothing massage of blows, Dimitri lobs a throwing knife into Rat's head, and that's that.

 

"Bury the corpse." Wheezes Biff, bent at the waist and resting his hands on his knees. "And send the maker of his fake tan my condolences."

 

"He won't need fake tan where he's going!" Ira chortles.

 

 

M-Team, brimming with confidence and testosterone (spilling over a little actually) decide to abandon the silly diversion of the SAM site and hit Grumm. Really hard. In the face. THE FACE.

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The team spread out, scrabbling for cover, skin pricking at their vulnerability. The base is surrounded by open ground dotted with the odd tree and tall patches of grass. There is a distinct lack of bulletproof cover. There is also the matter of the fence. The only direct access seems to be via a neighbouring sector.

 

Bull waves an item helpfully.

 

"Oh, we brought the wirecutters this time, did we? Great stuff." Grizzly surveys the ground with squinted eyes. "Now all we have to do is cover the killing ground without being spotted, cut our way in, and fight it out with them. Reckon they'll give us a thirty-count, like sportsmen?"

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A bullet flying overhead indicates not.

 

Although M-Team have little cover, the enemy have even less, and as they run to the perimeter, some painful bullet/body dialogues occur. But one tough hombre snuggles down prone with his rifle and lets Conrad have one in the shoulder. Getting up, Conrad is shot again, dropping his HK21, and as he turns to run, is shot again. Staggering away, weaponless, only Malice is there to save him, sending well-aimed lead downrange.

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Fire and move gets the others close, and Bull runs up and snips the fence, only to be confronted with two enemies.

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They are dropped with burst fire starters and single-shot main courses, and Danny slips through the hole and dives into the grass. One tough hombre gets up to plug the hole, but a 7.62mm from Malice plunges through his chest, and when he manfully carries on, Danny gives him a 7.62mm AP/HP double.

 

From there, a short, nasty firefight ensues, with grenades of all kinds and bullets flying back and forth. Proned out, M-Team only get up to throw grenades, spending 95% of their time flat out and burst firing into clouds of smoke. When the wind picks up a little, and the smoke clears, the only thing left is a wide swath of what looks like tomato paste. Bull, with his trademark sensitivity, jogs forward, sticks his finger in it, and tastes. "Teriyaki!"

 

Spoils are small in quantity, but quality. Another mortar, another Talon UGL, another rod & spring...and four mortar shells. Although a little worse for wear, Barry soon settles down to play with their cracked casings, aged explosive filler and dodgy made-in-Liberia fuzes.

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  • 5 months later...

It's been on hiatus.

 

Meltdown I haven't hired for several reasons 1) Her voice is annoying. The chances of me finishing an AAR with her rasping in my ears is minimal. 2) She's not, technically, a man. 3) She's probably too manly for M-Team.

 

 

There's a lot of kit needs fixing, and some boo-boos that need healing, so I-Team meander over to help take and hold Grumm. The prospect of letting them take on a sector on their own does not attract, plus Biff got a Bloodcat claw across the groin on the way there (still a flawless victory as far as I'm concerned), so it's a mixed ability effort this time.

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The dangerously unbalanced team enters the next section of Grumm, and spreads out, Dimitri and Conrad hup-hupping for the nearest building, the rest using the trees.

 

Ira, probing ahead, spots a soldier on the periphery of the town, more interested in the passing prostitutes than sentry duty. She signals wildly at the others, but they mistake this for her usual hysterics and advance.

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The soldier spots them, and runs, taking cover between two whores. Dimitri opens up, his rod and spring powered Minimi gushing bullets everywhere. The soldier takes a hit, and so does one of the prostitutes, much to Dimitri's embarrassment. Malice and Dimitri finish the soldier off with single shots.

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A soldier comes running at Flo, undeterred by Bull's bullets, and a minor miracle occurs as she actually hits him.

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The enemy insist upon fighting in the middle of the civilian populace, and having women and children around makes them feel much safer, like a warm fleshy blanket.

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With the occasional burst, but mostly careful single shots, DU Team take out the enemies, picking them off amongst the civilians without any more accidental whore penetrations, not that it would be the first for any of them.

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Ira returns from whence she came (the kitchen) and terrifies some homeowners, clearing the house and peering out into the streets. Dimitri finds the whore he blew his load into and patches her up.

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Malice sneaks along, and surprises an enemy.

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Barely aiming, he levels his Dragunov, lets two go, and the bad guy falls, head geography altered substantially by the meteoric 7.62mm impacts.

 

Flo, shitness somehow restrained, crawls head-first into a burst of fire. Conrad flanks the enemy and, sighing at the waste of good lead, chops him in half, saving Flo's life, such as it is.

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Dimitri pushes on, through the centre of the sector, which now seems to be clear, and spots another enemy. But there is a child in the way.

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Yet the thought of shooting off into a child barely gives him pause, and he opens fire, Minimi ripping off two six-round bursts right over the tiny innocent's head.

 

The enemy loves killing children for bonus points, and unleashes a LAW.

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The child is torn apart by the explosion, and Dimitri is badly hurt, Minimi falling from his hands as he attempts to cover the child with his body, which is moronic because it's an explosion. Bull, Conrad, Flo and Ira converge on his position. Bull takes out the enemy, a single shot to the chest dropping him to the ground. Flo starts the healing process with bandages and an IV drip of French tears, while Conrad and Ira secure the area.

 

The last enemy is found cowering in a fenced-off corner amidst supply crates, and is exterminated with the vigour deserving of those who shoot children with anti-tank weapons.

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Shut up, Ira.

 

Flo, amazed at her competence, has to sit down, tilt her head back to the sky and weep, shrugging off any attempt to comfort her. Dimitri coughs up bits of child as he clots. Bull picks over some enemy bodies with a marked lack of enthusiasm, wobbling sadly. Ira simply stands, enjoying the feeling of not being the most skilled moron in the pack. Conrad crip walks around the buildings, looking for loot. Malice raids every bathroom for toiletries, and spends the afternoon going through his skincare ritual.

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Another team cobbled together, another sector of Grumm assaulted.

 

They make for the cover of the nearest building, and Grizzly is grazed by a round before he gets there, held up by Biff, who is puffing like Chug-A-Lug, The Little Train Who Drank Too Much.

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Biff finds the time to kill two men, simply looking away and squeezing the trigger as enemies round the corner of the house. "Dont make me cut your eyelids off!" Grizzly growls.

 

Simpering, Biff cracks open one eye.

 

"In fact..." Grizzly stalks closer.

 

"I'm looking O God I am looking!"

 

As Grizzly picks up another graze and kills the bastard responsible, Biff and Flo are guarding his flank.

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An enemy storms around the corner but Biff and Flo form like Voltron except without any bravery or common sense. Flo gives him a burst, misses with three out of four. Biff misses twice, then hits, and the enemy crumples at the idiocy of it all. "Why them!" he cries, throwing his hands up, before keeling over in the manner of a monk having a heart attack.

 

Biff makes a courageous run for the next building, if by 'courageous' one means 'pathetic'. He gets exactly two steps before someone fires a burst into him, and he goes whimpering to safety behind Flo. Conrad shows him how it's done, flicking a 'W' at the enemies at the halfway point. A soldier pops out behind him, and Flo performs the greatest shot of her life, the bullet passing (not through!) Conrad and slapping the enemy.

 

The last few soldiers are gunned down in the street like dogs, with one taking shelter inside a shop. He tear gasses Danny to no effect. Not because he has a gas mask, all ambidextrous people are immune to tear gas.

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Danny sprays the shop, firing twin blasts of 7.62mm all over, and the enemy replies in kind, shots blasting trees and earth and sky and buildings but not Danny.

 

The shop is quickly surrounded, and the soldier lets loose with his last flurry of shots as Flo comes up behind him, and blows him apart, bullets tearing his fleshy sack of a body like a scrotum in a blender.

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All is quiet, except for Biff blowing kisses at Flo.

 

Barry is brought in to break into parts of the town the other mercs cannot reach. He comes face to face with Buffalo Bill from Silence of the Lambs.

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"IT RUBS THE LOTION ON ITS SKIN OR ELSE IT GETS THE HOSE AGAIN."

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Conrad and Griz sneak in from the west. A slightly clumsier entry is made from the north by Ira, Bull, Malice and Dimitri.

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Bull sneaks up to the fence, enjoying the sensation of his flab pressing through the mesh, and readies the wire cutters as the others watch for enemies.

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Malice and Ira circle round the back as Bull and Dimitri edge onwards. Malice is caught flat-footed by an enemy, and gets wounded as he whips out his Glock 18. 9mm AP rounds and Ira's 7.62 splash the enemy liberally across the ground.

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Griz sneaks around the back of the bar while Conrad takes up a commanding position in the doorway.

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His strident calls for gin 'n juice draw an elite soldier from his post-masturbation snooze.

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Conrad fillets him.

 

As Bull and Dim reach the other end of the warehouse, Malice comes under fire again, and troops begin wandering outside. Griz and Conrad spot them, and start shredding. "Let's show 'em what time it is!" crows Conrad, nailing a soldier to the wall with bullets.

 

"About five past five!" Griz shouts back.

 

Malice burns off a full mag of 9mm, Glock spraying and leaving Ira up to her knees in shell casings. Reloading, he takes another hit, and drops back behind Ira, forcing the enemy to move further along to see him. "Ruin my blouse." He snaps back the Glock's slide. "I ruin your whole outfit."

 

Dim rakes the whole length of the warehouse front with fire, quickly using up a mag, reloading, and using up another. Not a single hit. Bull helps out, messing up an elite as he sends a bullet over Griz's head.

 

Dim closes in, and Malice sets up at the other end, machine gun and sniper rifle covering the entire front of the warehouse. Conrad moves up to support, gold chains jangling, and is promptly shot by an elite, sneakily sniping from within the warehouse through a doorway.

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With the outside secured, but bullets still spitting from inside, Malice falls back to get a long-range look in.

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He spots an enemy. They both hit the deck, and open fire. Its no contest. Three shots, three hits, enemy dies. Getting the mud off his mother of pearl buttons will cause Malice more stress.

 

At the other end, Dim readies his Minimi, blast-battered and somewhat hot from overuse. Bull sends the door clattering up with one bingo-wing-swinging heave, and the enemies within are revealed.

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Bull hammers one into a stack of crates with his FAMAS. Dim opens fire, mostly misses, and manages to get shot. He hides around the corner, and slaps his Minimi for its impertinence.

 

Conrad seeks a deadly crossfire, crawling forth at the other end, and peering through the doorway.

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He spots two, and lets go with several bursts, but the angle is too tight, and the doorframe and crates inside absorb the rounds. A bitter fight develops, sniping and furious burst firing. Conrad takes a bad one and keels over, foolishly crossing the open doorway.

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Griz rushes in, almost takes a bullet, and slams the door shut so hard the knob flies off the inside and smacks an enemy in the face. What a guy!

 

The following turn, Griz rips the door open, ready to unleash a mag of whoop ass, and gets two in the head.

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As his brains arc into the air, his last thoughts are of unrequited man love.

 

Ira's scream is cut short by Conrad's hand clapping over her mouth, massive gold rings chipping her teeth. "First, kill bustas. Then, pour forty on stoop."

 

Ira, Conrad and Malice hold the door as Bull and Dim begin the sweep through the warehouse.

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The elite who killed Griz moves to intercept them.

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Conrad mows him down, aiming low and squeezing, his bursts ripping into the enemy from the knees up, splattering him across the ceiling.

 

Bull, footfalls deadened by flab, sneaks through the warehouse as Dim keeps the last enemy engaged, sticks his FAMAS in the bastard's ear and rumbles "This is for Grizzly."

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The last thing to go through the enemy's mind is 5.56mm bullets.

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As M-Team mourn Grizzly in the bar, S-Team prepares for action. Normally, these sort of scenes are macho as anything, but the reality of the situation is Shank's bones creak whenever he picks up a weapon, Dynamo is in a constant lather of semi-arousal, Maddog is quite simply batshit insane, Gumpy has difficulty not drowning people when he speaks to them, and Razor and Haywire like to stab each other for fun.

 

Having made their way to the deep south of Arulco, carving their way through many enemy patrols has taken its toll. Laid up by an enemy camp M-Team discovered more than a month ago, S-Team have been scoping the place out.

 

"Medical supplahs-"

 

"I'm thorry, whath?"

 

"Medical supplahs. Supplahs." Razor rounded on Gumpy. "You ain't funneh."

 

"I'm noth trying to be..."

 

Casting a black look at Gumpy, Razor resumes talking. "We got half a medkit left, and jest shy of two fust aid kits each. We're down to less than two tool kits-"

 

Dynamo had the grace to look embarrassed. Sexual exploration with those drill bits rendered them unusable.

 

"-and we cahn't rely on findin more in that camp. Looks like an assload a weaponreh though. So, ditch ever'thing you ain't gonna need today, we'll come back for it when-"

 

"Ifth."

 

"-when we take the camp. Plan is, we take it, hold it. The other mowrons come along and empty it, then we move out. So we could be heah a lowng tahm."

 

Haywire winks at Gumpy, and licks his lips.

 

S-Team ditch everything not mission critical. A daylight assault means glowsticks and NVGs are cached, along with the tool kits, spare weaponry, and half of the ludicrous amount of 40mm grenades Razor brought.

 

S-Team ghost through the trees toward the camp. Shank isn't particularly stealthy, but is so light twigs snap the bones of his feet, which is much quieter than his feet snapping twigs. Moving from tree to tree, they stealth silently on, until Haywire spots an enemy on the gate. He goes prone in cover, and takes aim. Luckily for the guard, he has his back turned. Examining the barrier's latest paint job with tedious exactness, he is totally unaware of a creeping tide of silent death oozing through the forest behind him.

 

Gumpy dares a whisper. "Wish we had camo kiths."

 

Dynamo scowls at him. "There's a big pile of shit over there, go roll in it. Let me get my silent sneaky sex killing on."

 

Of course, it all goes wrong, as Shank ends a turn out of cover, the guard turns, spots his pasty white face and opens fire. Gumpy snipes the guard, dribbling slobber over the stock of his AUG.

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Haywire laces the gate area as Razor sprints forward, taking cover behind the gate hut, then stepping out and hitting a pair of elites with a stun grenade.

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They're rendered easy meat, sprawled on the ground, and the gate area becomes a killing field, as bullets and stun grenades pour in. Dynamo is blown flat by an enemy grenade, but it does more damage to the fence than to him. Razor is winged by friendly fire from Haywire and Gumpy, much to their hilarity.

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The battle becomes serious, as three elites turn up. A burst from Haywire detonates a fuel tank next to them, sending them sprawling, but they simply get up again and resume fighting. Gumpy takes a bad one in the shoulder, losing 5 points of Dexterity. Dynamo is surprised and shot up at close range, saved only by Shank crippling the enemies with shots to the legs. Smoke blots out Shank and Dynamo, and a mustard gas grenade lands by Razor, who pulls his gas mask on, firing one-handed.

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Ammo is dangerously low, with Haywire on two spare mags, and the others on perhaps half a magazine each. Cutting back on burst firing may be necessary, but may also mean losing the fight. S-Team push on into the camp, leaving Dynamo behind to watch the rear.

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The last two guards on the western gate, both elites, give them some trouble, wounding Haywire, Razor, Gumpy and Shank. Just as they're about to be disposed of, Razor spots an enemy inside a building and flinches as bullets blast bark from the tree he's using as cover.

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The remaining elite guarding the gate, wobbling with exhaustion, whips out a LAW, and Haywire and Maddog have time to yell sweet horrified nothings to each other before the rocket swooshes past them and detonates on the wall nearby, sending them flying.

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Razor picks the rocket-firing bastard off, and Maddog, so charred he looks like a silhouette, clears the building, sweeping inside and eliminating the enemy with a burst from his CAWS.

 

"Well." Razor plops down in the grass, enjoying the breeze from the sea behind him. "Glad to see y'all listened to me about being careful with ammo and supplahs."

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Oh man.. Poor Grizzly. He was the best from the cheapest. I like him more than Igor or Grunty (or whatever that German pricks name is).

 

Replace him with Steroid ;) - yeah I know his voice acting is horrible plus they made him look like imbecil.

Actually there is no one manly enough to replace Grizzly.

 

 

I am wondering where they take you if you surrender and you occupy the N7 sector.

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To obtain funds sufficient to replace Grizzly, Ira is assigned to herd Biff and Flo and a load of spare weaponry to San Mona for sale.

 

A service is held for Grizzly in the nearby bar. Above the door, 'Most Valuable Homie' daubed in blood on a banner made from enemy uniforms, courtesy of Conrad. Bull provided the buffet. No-one is eating. Malice is wearing his best scarf, a cyan/turqoise silk number, and is dabbing his eyes with a handkerchief made from real badger anus. Barry is halfway through the 443 verses of the shortest Hungarian funeral hymn he knows. Dimitri maintains a respectful silence, still deaf from the explosion. Danny takes it upon himself to say a few short words.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/funeral.jpg

"We're gathered here today to celebrate the life of Steve Bornell. He died as he lived, with his brains all over the pl...er, he was a respected comrade, our rock in times of trouble, which lately has been every five minutes."

 

Bull's lip develops a definite wobble.

 

"A consummate professional, he killed people in all seasons, in all weathers, even on Sundays, although he charged time and a half. He killed without mercy or regard, asked for no quarter, and none was given, like when they blew his he...chances are, if someone saved your life, it was Grizzly. If you came to after taking a bullet in the face, chances are he not only shot the guy who got you, he would be the one stuffing your brains back in and taping your skull back down."

 

"Oui, oui, mon brave." Malice chokes back sobs.

 

"We must go forward, and we must carry on and win the fight, not for the ridiculously under-educated peasants of this Third World shithole, or their compulsive-emailing king sat behind a PC in Switzerland having his toes sucked, but for Grizzly." Danny turns to a framed photo of Grizzly placed on the end of the bar, which was unfortunately taken post-mortem. "Griz, no-one can fill your shoes, buddy. Possibly because you had such freakishly huge feet-"

 

The mercs nod, remembering Grizzly's shoes, which your average child could have happily gone boating in.

 

"-but also because you kicked some serious ass. What a guy!"

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/griz.jpg

 

-

 

Back with S-Team, they are ensconced securely in the camp, and are looking over the spoils.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/spoils.jpg

"Well, ifth we geth attacked by tankth-"

 

"Shuttup." Razor stalks away before he carves Gumpy like a Sunday roast in a knife-fighting competition. "Dynamo, ammo?"

 

"Thirteen mags and change. Two each, three for Haywire's Minimi, say. Got a pair of 7.62mm rifles, three mags for those. Beretta 93R, three mags." Dynamo shrugs. "After that, its dirty language from the Sexual Thesaurus."

 

Shank, overconfident thanks to their recent victory, bends down, picks up a LAW, and dislocates both arms at the shoulder. "AAAAGH! HELP! HELP! Help?"

 

Haywire toes the LAW off Shank's hands and the weakling collapses in a heap. "Be still my pet." Haywire soothes his Minimi, which is eager to fan lead all over the place.

 

-

 

Ira is sick to the back teeth of lovey dovey Biff and Flo five minutes after leaving Grumm. By the next morning in San Mona, she has stuffed a bullet in each ear and can barely hear their burbling. Paedo Tony has given them a good price on the guns, and sold them another Talon UGL and a LAW. After another hour of just-perceptible "But, muffincake" and "Please, my cabbage" Ira gives in and winkles out a bullet to listen in on the stupidity.

 

"Beef, we must weet 'ere."

 

"But, whyyyyyy. Why can't we wait in Grumm or Alma or Cambria I don't like it here the food smells funny and that guy in the porn shop keeps winking at me."

 

"Beef, you know very well we are weeting for a new member of our elite team."

 

"Who is it why can't we wait back at-"

 

Ira shoves the bullet back in a little too hard, wincing as the tip pokes her ear drum. The muzzle of her FAL is beginning to look inviting.

 

The new guy arrives.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/reaperarrives.jpg

A formidable merc, one of AIM's top-tier operatives, Reaper is a grim force to be reckoned with.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/reaper.jpg

He strides across the wilderness and on into San Mona, digs through what little equipment there is, sorts out a C-7 assault rifle, four mags of 5.56mm, a pair of first aid kits, and some grenades.

 

Ira, still trying to knock a bullet from one ear, runs over. "We're-"

 

Reaper nods, already striding out of town.

 

"Are you-"

 

He nods again.

 

"We're going to-"

 

"Too much talking." he growls, and walks on.

 

The other three, dismayed, fall in behind.

 

-

 

Back in Grumm, M-Team are recovering. Although still sad, the joyous killing fields beckon, and new comrades and kills there await. Conrad staggers into the bar for some malt liquor.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/charlie.jpg

Swaying outside, his brain cells reluctantly fizz to life in their bath of alcohol, and he has a violent flashback.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/samelg.jpg

"Playa in different game entirely." Conrad concludes, and summons the others.

 

Barry sneaks around the back, and drops a block of plastic explosive.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/ta1.jpg

The explosion blasts the back wall down, sending the Druggist sprawling, and Barry storms in and gives him a burst of 4.7mm, accidentally killing an innocent drunk with a stray round. Dimitri wanders over, and hacks the terrorist's head off with a machete.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/ta3.jpg

Before the corpse is even cold:

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/ta2.jpg

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Good Old Games, GOG.com my trusty vassal. Go forth and ye shall find for a very reasonable price indeed.

 

-

 

Reaper joins M-Team, nodding once to each merc before pointing to the mine. "Let's go."

 

The teams split into three smaller groups.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/ma1.jpg

Danny leads Ira, Biff and Flo in the top corner, dual pistols swapped in for an AK/Talon UGL combo.

 

Dimitri, Malice and Conrad form the heavy firepower team in the middle, two MGs and a sniper rifle to reach out and touch anyone stupid enough to fight.

 

In the bottom corner, Bull, Barry and Reaper take cover amongst the rocks and trees and get ready to pop some heads.

 

The battle goes very well. Enemies moving to attack either the top or bottom group are ravaged by concerted MG fire, and the few avoiding that are sniped. Danny and Ira pick up wounds early on, but their response is to launch 40mm grenades and smash multiple enemies flat. Danny keeps I-Team moving, pushing into cover behind trees and rocks, supporting them with accurate rifle fire.

 

A group of enemies hits the trio in the bottom corner and is absolutely mullered in reply. Reaper misses his first few shots, still getting used to his new weapon, but soon finds his mark, and coolly intercepts a charging elite with a burst of 5.56 that hacks the man apart. What Reaper misses, Bull and Barry do not, and when a smoke grenade blinds them, Bull replies with a stun, knocking men to the floor.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/ma3.jpg

 

Much to their shock, Biff and Flo work well as a duo. One moves, one fires. If one misses, the other does not. Flo covers Biff as he closes in on an unconscious enemy, leans over the rock separating them, and gives him a 7.62 at point blank range that turns his head into a cross between a melon and a Pollock masterpiece.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/ma4.jpg

 

With Barry prone behind a rock and crippling enemies with 4.7mm bullets to the ankles, Reaper and Bull quickly clean up the crippled mess, and Bull gives a dying elite a 5.56mm parting gift.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/ma5.jpg

Job done.

 

The mine foreman is, quite frankly, not something I ever want to discuss.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/mc6.jpg

 

Danny moves away from I-Team before he catches incompetency, and joins the rest of M-Team congratulating Reaper on his first battle. "Good going, man." Danny waves his AK at the bodies, limbs outstretched in bullet-riddled agony. "See you bagged one or two."

 

"Yep."

 

Bull sidles up shyly. "Will you be my fr-"

 

"No."

 

Conrad tries to defuse the situation. "Give me skin, brother man."

 

"No."

 

Malice tuts, and swishes off, fur-lined sniping mat rolled up under one arm. Barry shrugs, hoarse from Grizzly's funeral hymn, and mouths "BANG!" at Reaper before giving him two thumbs up.

 

"O-kay."

 

Enrico has something to say.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/et.jpg

Enrico, you are a knob.

 

-

 

And in the palace, the sitcom Ow, My Face! continues, as the plucky hero, Elliot, must once again give the evil queen Deidranna bad news.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/eliot.jpg

Deidranna of course, slaps him, much to the audience's hilarity, and muses:

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/deid.jpg

Why not, can't do worse than the hundreds I've already killed. Children are smaller, anyway, they'd be harder to hit.

 

-

 

Shortly after, the mine comes under attack, an ill-advised effort of perhaps ten men. Versus twenty militia and three of my best mercs. The militia are utterly retarded, often grouping far too closely together, like so:

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/stupidmilitia.jpg

A LAW, grenade or mortar shell amongst that lot would be a slaughter, but thankfully this time it didn't happen, and weight of numbers carried the day easily. M-Team set about training militia, I-Team set about gathering up everything valuable.

 

My objective is not to hold Grumm forever, merely to hold it for as long as it is easy to do so, and loot it. The current state of my towns and their militia defectives. Er, defenders.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/stratego.jpg

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Thank you, thank you. I live to entertain.

 

-

 

Los Angeles, USA

 

The Higgens Residence

 

"Ron, did you pack the Kevlar?"

 

"No, honey. They're providing us with body armour."

 

"Ron. You know what happens when you go out without your Kevlar."

 

"Charlene. Honey. We are going. To be late. For our flight."

 

"Don't you DARE take that tone with me Ronald Higgens!"

 

Meet the happiest marriage in JA2:

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/rr.jpg

 

-

 

Clearing the secret camp goes without a hitch. The only things left behind are syringes full of old paint thinner (labelled as morphine) and a few bottles of urine (labelled as beer).

 

This means there are enough LAWs to go around, and so everyone now carries one, except Bull, who is hauling an 81mm mortar and five bombs for it, which strains even his amazing physique.

 

On their way back to Grumm, M-Team bump into another enemy camp not marked on the map. With Bull and Barry to their right, and Danny and Reaper to their left, Malice and Conrad proceed along the track.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/u1.jpg

As Reaper and Danny attempt to circle around behind the buildings, Bull edges up, flab forcing trees to lean aside, and spots an enemy up on the roof, enjoying the sun. Backed up by Barry, he aims, and shoots.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/u2.jpg

The bullet whines off towards the horizon. Groaning, Bull sinks down behind a rock, jowls wobbling. The guard spins round, alerted by the gunshot. Are those bears taking potshots again?

 

Danny is spotted, and comes under determined smoke grenade pelting. He kills an enemy, but it's no good, another smoke grenade comes in and hisses to life, hiding him from view.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/u3.jpg

Reaper, watching nearby, picks an enemy off with shots to the brains, and allows himself a nod of satisfaction.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/u4.jpg

Drawing the majority of the enemy fire, Danny, enjoying his FAL/Talon, reaches out and taps a 7.62mm finger on every forehead he can see. "This won't hurt, men. Because the brain has no pain receptors." A fleeing enemy gets one in the back of the skull. "Trust me, I'm a doctor!"

 

Danny and Reaper get a lot of attention, allowing Barry to run for the buildings and slip in behind the enemies.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/u5.jpg

Malice picks off the men on the rooves, while Barry pops out and squeezes 4.7mm into an enemy spine, G11 spitting out the caseless rounds and exhaling hot gas, the pleasing stench of explosives driving him to a plateau of mindless pleasure. He rushes on, and is amushed by an enemy hidden behind a door, catching rounds in the legs.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/u6.jpg

Reaper, quieter than silence itself, slides up beside the enemy, gives him a burst, and it's done.

 

Malice dusts himself off, and immediately sets about polishing his jacket's buttons and his Dragunov. Bull disgusted by the cleanliness, immediately starts removing and milking enemy organs.

 

The sector was something of a weapons cache, holding a few dozen grenades, two C-7s, three FALs and a Minimi. Think I can find a use for those.

 

-

 

Raven and Raider meet Ira and Dimitri in San Mona.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/i-teambegins.jpg

"I'm Ira, I-Team leader, I suppose. This is Dimitri, the deaf man-child."

 

Dimitri manages a feeble smile for Raven and hides his arousal with his Minimi.

 

Raven manages a brief smile. "Ron, aren't we going to call home?"

 

"Honey, we just got here."

 

"Ron. Aren't we going to call home."

 

"Fine, honey." Teeth gritted so hard he can taste enamel chips, Raider finds the nearest public phone not being used as a display stand by a hooker, and calls home.

 

Raven hovers behind him, peeking over his shoulder to make sure he presses the right buttons and has trimmed his fingernails.

 

No-one picks up, and Raider waits until the answering machine kicks in. "Como estas, Juan."

 

"Ron, he's our son, he speaks English."

 

Raider clamps a hand over the phone. "Honey, it was your idea to adopt a Mexican child."

 

"He is of Mexican ethnicity, but he's an American, Ronald."

 

Raider turns back to the phone. "Juan, did you know that your mother is a whore? La puta, Juan. La grande puta."

 

"La puta grande, Ronald."

 

"Honey, shut up. I'm talking to Juan."

 

Ira and Dimitri slink away to find beds for the night.

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Currently playing around with the weapon loads for the teams. Was initially thinking of two MGs, two UGLs, a sniper, and an assaulter per team, with five LAWs and one man hauling a mortar. I have enough mortars and LAWs to go around, but it's not working out for several reasons.

 

M-Team is working nicely as it is. An MG, a sniper, two UGLs, a mortar. Adding in another MG is problematic. Barry can't carry it, he's already hauling a tool kit and the explosives. To expect him to carry an MG and enough ammo as well is silly. Likewise, Danny, who has enough on his hands being the doc.

 

S-Team don't have anyone strong enough to haul a mortar, except perhaps Razor, who has his hands full with his UGL and being the doc. Dynamo and Maddog are both mechanics, already carrying enough stuff, so an MG is out of the question, never mind a mortar. Gumpy could do it, but he's a little weak,

 

I-Team, again, no one strong enough to haul a mortar. We do have a sniper (Raider) and two MGs though (Dimitri, Raven), which is nice. Currently swapping out the crop of FALs for C-7s. Although damage and range are not as good, the C-7 is lighter (which is important as four members are weaker than Iranian lager), and has a better burst fire mode. The mags are 30 rounds as opposed to 20, too.

 

Each person has: two types of grenade, NVGs, gas mask, 2 first aid kits, extended ear, three glowsticks, a full set of body armour, and two spare mags (eight for the machine gunners). God, even inventory management is fun in JA2. Sickening.

 

The mortar is a thorny issue. Long range, packs a punch, but the weight is not nice at all, with the mortar alone weighing in at 16.9lbs, and each bomb is 9lbs. Bull, Strength 98, is hauling a mortar and five bombs and that's 49% of his carrying capacity. Each bomb takes approximately 7%, so Bull could carry, in theory, a mortar and 12 bombs, if he carried nothing else at all, including body armour. Hmm, a dedicated mortar operator might be handy later on.

 

-

 

With Grumm's militia fully trained up, S-Team resupplying at Cambria, and I-Team coming together, M-Team can finally kick back, relax and go out and do some killing. Sectors of swamp need clearing near Grumm, and the men ford through them with masochistic relish, holding nightly 'Most Leeches On Scrotum' competitions and seeing who can drink the most stagnant water without succumbing to malaria. Bloodcats and enemy patrols are glimpsed through the twisted trees, but none spot M-Team, and they press on.

 

They soon come across an installation deep in the swamp, known as Orta on the map.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/orta.jpg

Malice finds a nice dry spot for a sniping position to preserve his dolphin skin belt, as Conrad and Reaper take up positions either side of him. Reaper swaps out his 40mm stun for a HE, and Conrad beds his HK21 firmly in the soft mud, ready to give covering fire.

 

Barry, Bull and Danny advance from tree to tree, and the most short-sighted guard in the world ever consistently fails to spot them.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/o1.jpg

He dies clueless, and the first handful to respond are also cut down, the Manly Trinity of sniper fire, MG bursts, and 40mm grenades sweeping them aside. Return fire slices down from on high, and the mercs take cover, sprawling in the dirt behind trees. Danny spots the shooter, an elite up on the roof.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/o2.jpg

The elite is scared off by weight of fire, and Bull chubs in, snips the fence like a rabbi doing his millionth foreskin, and barges through, getting into the lee of the building. Reaper spots an enemy running up and intercepts him with a bullet.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/o3.jpg

The elite joins the Massive Wankers club, unleashing a LAW.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/o4.jpg

It whooshes past Danny and Barry (who is grinning with child-like delight at the pyrotechnics) and barely catches Reaper in the blast. The elite is paid in lead for being a total dick.

 

Bull lurches into action, rounding the corner, punching the nearest enemy in the face so hard his teeth spall out of the back of his head, and ducking back into cover before the two elites can do anything but flinch at the enamel shrapnel.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/o5.jpg

With Conrad circling around to the right on his own, Malice sprints over, dainty Cuban heels kicking up sprays of mud, and snipes the elites coming around the building. Advancing into a withering fire, the enemies last as long as a pizza at the Fat Bastadaria, and Barry rushes past the carnage to slap a lump of C4 down to breach the building.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/o6.jpg

It fails. Enraged, Barry tears open the back door and is promptly stabbed up, an elite charging the length of the room, whipping out a knife and burying it up to the hilt in his chest. "How...unnecessary." Barry staggers away as Danny blasts Knifey Boy.

 

Conrad edges around the flank slowly. "Ain't no fun if homies can't get none." he observes, firing off the occasional burst to take care of any troublesome enemies.

 

Malice comes under a determined grenade barrage, first smoke getting in his eyes, tear gas getting in his lungs, and then mustard gas reminding him to put his sodding gas mask on.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/o7.jpg

Reaper and Conrad pitch in to take care of the grenadier as the others secure the building.

 

Bull, with the others on overwatch, clears the building, and is caught unawares as an elite pops up and gives him a good burst to centre mass. Bull replies in kind, and the elite dies, miserable at being foolish enough to try attrition with a man who, in Bravestarr terms, has the Blubber of the Whale.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/o8.jpg

Further investigation reveals one seriously locked door, and one blues musician.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/o9w.jpg

"Used to call me Blind Horse Taft, on account of me being blind! Also I had sex with a horse. On account of me being blind."

 

Complex negotiations are entered into, and Walter Blind Horse Taft refuses to budge with what he knows, until $20k has been handed over.

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/o10w.jpg

Secret revealed and door opened, Walter turns away, cackling, waving his slim white cane in one hand and riffling bills in the other. His face explodes, spattering M-Team with blood, and Walter keels over, to reveal Barry behind him, G11 levelled. "This is what done to collaborators in Hungary on weekend."

https://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h109/FullAuto_2006/JA2/o11.jpg

M-Team take up defensive positions inside the building, and the wounded smile at Danny. "A man's got ta know his limitations, and occasionally forgetting the med kit is one of mine."

 

Barry's sucking chest wound emits pink frothy bubbles of disgust.

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  • 3 years later...

Easy - Thread locked. Not so easy are the guest accounts. They don't exactly have profiles to mark down as spammers. Will need someone with higher level clearance to sort them out.

 

Sorry Fullauto, temporary fix, the robospammers seem to gravitate to this thread. Just give the mods a yell later if you want to continue the AAR.

 

I'm not quite sure who is running the show at SC, but someone needs to get their head out of their ass and fix things, asap.

 

Hey, it's not that easy to be glued to the forums. All this silly life stuff and other commitments get in the way. Plus international time zones. Oh, and that blasted contrivance of man known as daylight savings. wink.png

 

- NKF

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