Sir, the Traditions of the Peng Challenge Thread are Rum, Sod-Off, and the Lash!

[Seanachai]

Roight, I'm jumping the queue, being an anarchist, and generally mis-behaving. We're about at the limit, and the Mad Bald One (his name be honoured) is not about.

So, treat it as the right one, until you're told otherwise. My general rules, posted yet again below:

ALROIGHT, THEN! HEADS UP, MOUTHS CLOSED, AND LISTEN TO THE ORFICER, YOU LOT!

The Rules of the Peng Challenge Thread are quite straightforward, really. Astonishingly simple, in fact, in a complex world.

First off, no one here likes you, has any desire to know you, and, in fact, the entire sodding Universe doesn't give a stuff what you want or have to say. Go Away.

Should you remain on despite the first rule, we next wish you to know that coming in, striking a pose, and challenging everyone in the Thread to a match will cause the wastelands to echo with laughter, and you will look like the stupid pillock you are. You will then be told to Go Away, more forcibly, and people will really begin to mean it. Pick someone out, preferably something as newly arrived and worthless as yourself, taunt and challenge it, and you might get a game.

Next, you should sound off as though your wit, courage, and intelligence were not in question. In the vulgate, Sound Off As Though You've Got a Pair! I believe it is. Oh, and more than half a brain, please. If you sound off well, wittily, and with great force of person and humour, you may be accorded a measure of respect here, perhaps for the first time in your doubtless tawdry little life. It's something to look forward to.

Finally, while sounding off, we'd like you to remember that this is the Peng Challenge Thread, not your local boozer where every vulgarity, expletive, and prejudicial slur are met by howls of laughter from halfwits who are only 15 minutes and 3 drinks away from spending the night in Detox. We have standards here, whether you can follow the concept or not, and if you ignore or trample them, you will not only be told to Go Away, you will Go Away, both from here, and hopefully the Forum in general.

Now, that's our simple rules, told in an unsimple way and at great length. Shortly another of the inmates will probably be along to revile me, and repost them in a shorter and easier to understand version.

[Speedy]

<blockquote>quote:</font><hr>Originally posted by Seanachai:

only 15 minutes and 3 drinks away from spending the night in Detox. We have standards here, <hr></blockquote>

So what are they? Being 3 drinks and 15 minutes past spending a night in detox?

[dalem]

O Great Tisroc (may you live forever), mayhap you should worry about combining spiritous liquors and the lash, given the proclivities of the denizens here.

[Stuka]

Wow!

You follow a little, disco dancing gnome and you can end up anywhere!

Bags I the top bunk!

[Yeknodathon]

<blockquote>quote:</font><hr>Originally posted by

Gates-lut:

Whither Coventry, Berlio?

And what's an SSN?

Why is there air?

What is this place and what are they doing to that man?!

Well, well, well. What did the guy say when he saw three holes in the ground?

How many fingers am I holding up?

Q. How many Surrealists does it take to screw in a light bulb? A. A Fish.

These are things that have been on my mind.

Gates-slut

<hr></blockquote>

Fine questions, fine questions.... ask Joe Shaw... he's (snigger)... at the Newbies desk (snigger) to answer all enquries... could tell yer meself (snigger)... but, uh, well it's good to see someone here who brings a bit of class to this hovel... and here, at me paddock, I entirely applaud yer fine sentiments for Mr Gates and his wonderful products...

...though just one minor quibble... it ain't a FISH yer backslidin, stomach-sucking amoeba, its a LOBSTER... and for that blindingly obvious mistake you owe me a setup...

...now, just a tiny bit of advice: beware of Patch "the surgeon" and the dapper "snip, snip"... shreaaaaaak

Yeknod

[ 01-08-2002: Message edited by: Yeknodathon ]</p>

[Speedy]

Ouch!

Get off Stukes I was here first.

[Mace]

<blockquote>quote:</font><hr>Originally posted by Stuka:

Bags I the top bunk!<hr></blockquote>

Only if you got over your bed-wetting problem.

Mace

[Berlichtingen]

<blockquote>quote:</font><hr>Originally posted by a worthless scum sucking newbie:

Whither Coventry, Berlio?

And what's an SSN?

Why is there air?

What is this place and what are they doing to that man?!

Well, well, well. What did the guy say when he saw three holes in the ground?

How many fingers am I holding up?

Q. How many Surrealists does it take to screw in a light bulb? A. A Fish.

These are things that have been on my mind.<hr></blockquote>

• Knowledge will be forthcoming
• The lowest form of animal life... in other words, you
• So you have something for your last gasp
• This is the Mutha Beautiful Thread, that is not a man (it is a sheep), and you don't want to know what Mace is doing to it
• Who the Hell cares?
• One... and may I say feck you too
• Cute. You may die now
• You make the false assumption that you have a mind

[mensch]

wankers

[REVS]

AWOL

A Waste Of Electrons

[MrSpkr]

Scene: A closet standing alone in a vast salt-marsh. Squeezed into the closet, in apparent defiance of the laws of physics, are a desk and an office chair that, by all appearances, was designed by a lineal descendant of the Marquis de Sade.

Wedged between a faux leather bomber jacket and a wool topcoat, a computer monitor perches precariously upon a stack of manila folders and redwells overflowing with various scraps of paper. The monitor bathes the room in its pale blue glow.

Piled high upon the desk are various esoteric tomes of knowledge, including "Contracts", "Constitutional Law", "Evidence", "Consumer Law", "Everything you Wanted to Know About Real Property But Were Too Bright to Ask", "For Whom the Bell Trolls" and "Playboy".

From within, a grim figure glances across the wasteland. His gaze falls upon a few pitiable souls who appear to be wandering the vast wastelands in confusion.

Some poor souls appear to have lost their minds, and appear to be ranting about sex and rich technocrats. Others sit drooling, having never had a mind to lose in the first place. Still others wander aimlessly, crowing about their imaginary accomplishments and laughing at their supposed (and illusionary) wit. A few run to and fro, accosting the others, screaming to all who will listen that MG's can run and that the air-speed velocity of the 88 is undermodeled.

MrSpkr: "Feckin' SSN's."

He stretches, then looks down and resumes his studies.

{Exeunt}.

[Lawyer]

Rexford and Captain Wacky could have done a better job on this MBT.

[Herr Oberst]

<blockquote>quote:</font><hr>Originally posted by Seanachai:

Roight, I'm jumping the queue, being an anarchist, and generally mis-behaving.

<hr></blockquote>

hahahahaha! Oh now this is rich...

What's that saying, "Dig a hole and bury me, it doesn't get any better than this." (quite possibly the only good thing to have come out of the penal island, other than that nice looking Sheila down the hall who is obviously unrelated to any of you Aussies who post here)

I would now pronounce myself ready to die, but I won't give you laggards the pleasure.

I give you some earlier words spoken by Seanachai...

<blockquote>quote:</font><hr>Originally posted by Seanachai:

But, as one of the Old Ones of the Thread, and the one most concerned with the finished product, I can tell you that we shall observe the amenities with our hosts. {snip}

{snip} we shall do everything ship shape and Bristol fashion {snip}

<hr></blockquote>

Ladies and assembled other vermin, I present the other face of our [sneer]esteemed[/sneer] Barf, er, Bard.

Pray tell, from which side of your mouth did this latest post originate?

hehehehehe

[Herr Oberst]

<blockquote>quote:</font><hr>Originally posted by MrSpkr:

the air-speed velocity of the 88 is undermodeled

<hr></blockquote>

European or African 88?

[bauhaus]

<blockquote>quote:</font><hr>Originally posted by mensch:

wankers<hr></blockquote>

Dear Elvis,

Did you see what mensch did?

Hate you,

Bauhaus

[Leeo]

I am learning to hate that OGSF bastige a little bit more with each exchange of game files. Is it not bad enough that he lures me into playing a fecking snowy scenario called "Ass Noise" or some such disgusting bodily sibilance? Then, it seems he is some sort of proto-Pollack, who enjoys the swirling, confused forms of red Ami blood as it melts into white frozen powder. "I think this one looks like seppuku. I think this one looks like bunnys chasing wolves through a snow storm. This one looks like something from my spirograph." Of course, there is also the fact that I have to exit a bazillion (now many paintings less) units of a map edge that lies somwhere off in the distant haze near Stalingrad. Did I mention that my M4's (in modern nomenclature, "Bics") are bursting like bungled breast augmentations?

Oh, I still hate that Elvis chap, but I'm starting to find that there is more hate in me than can be spent on only one individual worthy of such detestation. Yes, I hate Elvis, but I have found room to hate OGSF as well.

[dalem]

So chrisl and I finally finished our Green Nighttime meeting engagement. If you believe phrases like "Minor Allied Victory" actually mean anything, then it would seem that my opponent defeated me after a long and bloody series of advances and routs. But only if you believe those sorts of things.

OGSF is suffering at my hands in the same fashion as I suffered when we played this type of scenario the first time. Has anyone ever successfully attacked in the Snow?

Lawyer and I are still embroiled in a gigantic mess called "Bank Holiday" or somefink. It's huge, it's got lots of tanks, and most of his German tin cans are smoking wrecks. He does have a smattering of infantry in the town now though.

[Agua Perdido]

<blockquote>quote:</font><hr>Originally posted by Herr Oberst:

European or African 88?<hr></blockquote>

Grog! Take that crap into the Outre Boards, where it belongs. Besides, 88s are tropical. Mercia's temperate.

Here is a morning-before-coffee

UPDATE!

Seanachai has learned the value of Not Being Seen. We're on turn 10 in our battle, and we've had a nary a sign of the little gnome. His little cookie factory in the hollowed-out tree is indeed well concealed. Still, my NaturTruppen are having a lovely little stroll in the woods, and his last email had a heart-warming story about a women who emotionally brutalized her children at a showing of Bambi (Sit down, Hanns! Bambi the Disney movie.)

Which brings me to Lars. Our little ME is a showpiece of gamey flag-rushing, and my ill-coordinated lackwits aren't much of a match for his well-drilled UberHorde. Still, my Hellcat, racing flat-out within a millimeter of the map-edge, got a first-round hit on his Hetzer, drilling right through its fearsome front upper hull. Some might say it's just dumb luck. Rather, I say it's proof positive that I am a better person than Lars. A glowing endorsement that my very bodily waste is delicately-perfumed ambrosia, while a blind and deaf person with no sense of smell will cross the street, jump a cross-town bus and grab a flight to Newark to avoid having to walk past the dreadful apotheosis of feculence-made-animate that is poor Lars. It's better to be lucky than good.

Ah, that lower-case pillock stevetherat claims that he sent out a big batch of turns last month, but that since no one seems to have received any, "something must be off with the email." Prat. He asked me to forward that he'll resend Real Soon Now. Thinks he can out-wait me, does he? Bastard.

Speaking of which, I here announce of topplement of Croda. W00t! The useless wanker cowered in oblivion, took succor in other fora, and worshipped at the console of false games to avoid his inevitable spanking in our match (Hanns! I mean it! Down! You'll get Bauhaus all lathered up. Oh. Well, put a tarp down first.) As we await the joyful return of Lorak, let him scribe upon his re-appearance:

Agua Perdido: Glorious win, with a bunch of points, the VLs, and many survivors.

Croda: Ignominious (and smelly) defeat, with not-as-many-points-as-me, no VLs, and many fewer survivors (most of whom were panicked or worse).

I think this match was supposed to prove somefink or other about paras or JasonC's book collection, but sod it if I can remember what.

Which brings us back to Shaw. Where the Berli's my turn, old man? Your pace of play is beginning to resemble the pace of your troops. Find your own shtick.

w00t!

Agua Perdido

[Joe Shaw]

Not bad Seanachai, not bad, you got all the requisite bits in it appears. Mind you it'd have been better if you'd continued the nautical theme with the rules. Perhaps a rendition patterned after the reading of the Articles of War done by each British captain at least once a week. The tag line on most of them, "shall be punishable by death" would have made a jolly, repetitive sound I think.

All in all, not bad.

I think we need to add something to the rules though, to reinforce the vital NEED for an email address and general location if the SSNs expect ANY attention, positive or negative.

Joe

[Joe Shaw]

Off Topic Even Here!

We of the CessPool are, let's face it, the cream of the crop ... at least I am, I'm less certain about the rest of you. But that being the case I'd like to take this opportunity to ask if there would be any interest in a CASUAL, fun IL-2 group/squadron/clan/whatever the hell they're calling it these days.

I know that several of us have or will be getting IL-2 and if you'd be interested please email me privately indicating your interest.

We might be able to put a CessPool only group together, a CM group or just join with an existing group that has the same basic goals ... shooting down Lawyer mostly.

Thank You For Your Time

Joe

[Croda]

Some guy loses his water, my gentle Fallschimjager pick it up and try to return it to him, and they get shot full of holes for their trouble...and in snow to boot! What a travesty. What inhumanity. What cheat code did he use to get an extra company of British Airborne? Gamey bastage even hid in houses and shot at me from behind cover!!! Cheating wanker. Wanking cheater.

Even better than that is the recent action of the Gates-slut. In an effort to continue our long-running PBEM, he sends me the 'latest' file he has. Well, needless to say, it was from long before I enveloped his right flank, so the attack has to recommence. Naturally this time around his two light guns score instantaneous kills on all of my armor, including a nice frontal kill on a Tiger. But at least he says we can start a new game if I'd like. Good, he at least offers me the coward's way out. I'll beat him if I have to do mortal combat with my mortar tubes.

That said, I need to pick up another game. The taunting will begin soon. Perhaps an easy win and a new dog ear for my wall...

[Not edited at all because Hiram's editing joke was only funny in the last thread.]

[Ok, edited afterall because I jacked up the UBB tags.]

[ 01-08-2002: Message edited by: Croda ]</p>

[Panzer Leader]

Like a phoenix rising from the ashes... no, scratch that, more like Mr. Magoo stumbling blindly through to victory, I am about to spank Seanachai SOUNDLY!.

More to follow in a few weeks, or whenever these last two turns are dealt, whaichever comes last...

[Lars]

OGSF, you want kisses blown your way, send a setup.

I will be more than happy to make a new sporran out of your wee little spaniel for you.

It will be the best thing that ever happened to the pooch, being turned into a pouch.

At least then HE will be useful.

And buy an American English keyboard.

[Patch]

Dear Elvis,

You are the official Wanker and Elvis impersonator of the MBT. (I waited to post this today on the King's birthday as a special treat for you. And you thought I didn't love you!) Also, I am not a witch, I am a goddess...there is a huge difference.

Love,

Persephone

XOXO

[Joe Shaw]

<blockquote>quote:</font><hr>Originally posted by Patch:

Dear Elvis,

You are the official Wanker and Elvis impersonator of the MBT. {snipped}<hr></blockquote>Damn Patch that's ... that's just bloody brilliant! Are you SURE you're Berli's wife? I can't imagine anyone with that amount of talent (actually anyone with ANY talent) staying with Berli longer than the contractually obligated time specified by the Taxi Dancers Union (modified from my ORIGINAL and, frankly, more accurate description out of deference for you).

Joe