Seanachai

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Joe Shaw: For extra credit, what was written in cruel runes across his chest? <HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Villanova.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Joe Shaw: Plagarism Alert, Plagerism Alert, calling all Attornies... ...from that classic of literature ... Bored of the Rings by the staff of the Harvard Lampoon. For shame, Sir Seanachai ... for shame. Joe<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Guilty, but sod you Shaw for ratting me out. I would have attributed the same if: 1)My already and normally convoluted sentence structure hadn't precluded it in terms of making any sense at all. and 2)I decided that those who would know, would know. Not unlike quoting Shakespeare, you pompous toad; you don't automatically assume that everyone who reads it would assume it was your own work of eloquence, and for those who would think that you were the first to utter 'To be or not to be', well, sod them and throw the handi-wipe in after them, I say. Now, shouldn't you be dying in a dramatic fashion in our PBEM, rather than hopping from foot to foot here and pointing me out to the proctors? Plagiarism, forsooth. I've already made more literary allusions than you'll ever pick up on in what remains of your tawdry life, trust you to scream like a motherless babe over one unattributed reference! [ 05-04-2001: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Stuka: Loathe as I am to agree with you on any point...actually does agree with me, which is surprising, but pointless, so you're all spared ...I seem to recall sometime in the recent future past that you called some sort of a blood hamster on all Antipodeons. I call you out for the kind of slapping that...goes on a bit of a boast, propping up his spirits by making lewd gestures towards his ancestral enemies, the New Zealanders... Bauhaus' skull has been neatly mounted on the mantlepiece above my fire and I have a small 'reserved' sign in the space adjacent. Should you choose to die eloquently and by the numbers, I may even relocate...hopefully to another dimension, especially having made mock of Bauhaus's skull, which he's not even fit to wipe with preservative wax I could go on and on but that is not my way.an obvious lie, and if he were even remotely eloquent, I'd fear for my status as the 'Bard of the Peng Challenge Thread'. Fortunately he's as thick as two short planks laid on top of each other across Bauhaus's skull. In short, the finger points at you! The spotlight is on and the fans are staring. Now watcha gonna do, watcha gonna do when Stukey comes for you?<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> I can only hope you mean that last bit in a thoroughly 'military' sort of way (yes, Bauhaus, we were both perturbed). It is true that, some time ago, I set out to crush and destroy all Australians. So far, this has met with mixed results. I did, quite handily, if a bit weakly, defeat Mace. But then, in an unfairness of the Universe that still smarts, I was narrowly defeated by Goanna. Presently, I am playing the Aussie answer to Jonathan Swift, Simon Fox. This looks good for me, but not out of tactical brilliance, but rather because the scenario designer half-wittedly made the game too short by 5-10 turns. I knew, from early on, that I would have to eventually put both you and Speedy in your places. I shall begin, then, with you, Stuka. I doubt that I am the only one on the Thread who has actually come to regret the very invention of the motorcycle, as it's non-existence would have spared us all the endless boasting and cock-posturing (yes, Phan, it does have something to do with chickens) of Stuka. Stuka, Stuka, Stuka, what can I say of you? We all recognize you as that rather disturbing boy (there was one in every school), who wandered about with his fly open, shirt tails pulled out of it to either side, piping "look, there's a bunny in my pants! Anyone want to touch it's pink nose?" until you were finally taken away for 'home schooling'. Time went on, but the boy remained the same. Now, you parade among us here in the Peng Challenge Thread, and though the words are (slightly) different, you are still that same, slackly smiling, twittering youngster deemed 'most likely to go off his meds and perpetrate a horror' that you always were. Therefore, I will send you a set up. Not merely as part of my masterwork, which is to crush all Australians; nor as mere payback for your sometimes nasty handling of Peng Challenge stalwarts. No, Stuka, I will send you a set up because I still feel the horror associated with that thin, childish voice proclaiming 'there's a bunny in my pants', and I wish to exorcise the memory by defeating you. Oh, also, if I win, I get your wife. Seen the pictures over on Lorak's site, and she looks a bit of alright. [ 05-04-2001: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Phillies Phan: A Letter to the Cesspool Dear Cesspool inhabitants, Please don't vote me out of the cesspool. I've contributed much in the last 9 months. We all know what can grow in 9 months. I've sounded off often and have been berated for it. I apologized too, and was verbally castigated for those mistakes. My time spent in here splashing amongst you has been fun (for me). I remember when I first tentavely placed a toe in the pool and Seanachai welcomed me while Berlichten readied his flamethrower. He and Professor Doctor Hamster X were ready to filet me. Only my "squatters" rights helped me during those times. JDMorse and Moriarty have become my uncles and Elvis has become my hero. As I grow and shave my back, I strive to become more like MRPeng. I also disdain smileys and suffer from the affliction of flatulence and verbosity. I wish I could play all of you in PBEM's but its not possible or probable. In closing, I ask that you remember me when you do your Cesspool council and that you ask yourselves "What would Scooby do?"<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> I find that I must respond to this (roight, shut up you lot, it's not clever to point out that I find the need to respond to hundreds of things, and at great length). I did indeed welcome you in, Hiram...er Phan (good gods, I feel like I've adopted a Vietnamese orphan who's found the need to return to his roots). And Berli would indeed have turned you into a tri-tip roast (whatever in the name of Carnieglory, god of meat, that might be), but pity stayed his hand ('pity I can't find my zippo', we all heard him mutter). JD Morse and Moriarity are your uncles? Fine, I can accept that; you're ready for a stint as an altar boy, then, because you know the territory. But Elvis is your hero?! And you want to become more like Peng?! None bear more love or greater loathing for Peng than myself. I began this whole ongoing carnival specifically because of Peng. But Hiram...er, Phan. You must not strive to be more like Peng. Firstly, it would break your Mother's heart. Secondly, it is far beyond your means to stay equal with the alcohol consumption, unless you are the heir to the Seagram's empire. And finally, because, lad, you must strive to be more like yourself! All eyes tear up as Seanachai begins the standard lesson to young people encouraging them not to emulate aging, vicious drunkards of low moral standing, but rather encourages them to 'find their own way' Hiram...er, Phan, you are the future! With another thousand hours of game play, and tutoring by the finest military academies on the planet, you will become a very adequate, perhaps even good, Combat Mission player! Did you not achieve a draw against the mighty Mark IV? (ignore the reports that the victory...er, non-loss happened to coincide with his bi-weekly tribute to 'Scotch, May My Blood Cease to Dilute It's Flow in My Veins!') Peng is the past, lad. Don't you think that Peng and I, when we're finally checked into that special, geriatric ward at Betty Ford, want the Thread in the hands of young, vibrant folk like yourself? And Elvis? Elvis lives in South Philadelphia, for God's sake! You might as well idolize Sylvester Stallone! Phan...er, Hiram...er, oh bugger it! When are we going to finish that game, you little horror? Vote you out of the Cesspool, who ever heard of such tripe?! You've been watching too much bad television. [ 05-03-2001: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Geier: Watch it pally. You could get banned for that kind of language here. Unless of course you meant to say 'ook, ook, ook!' perchance? In that case, thanks for noticing, no I bloody well won't and I would think that they normally have a kind of blueish tint unless you chose the ones of Omnian manufacture. Regards,<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Ah, Geier my little carrion crow (I know the actual translation, lad; poetic license, Geier, poetic license). I enjoy your references, lad, I really do. Of course, I hope for a rematch some day, and hope even more that I pound your ears far enough down to be mistaken for epaulets. And, because I see this sort of thing done constantly here in the Peng Challenge Thread, a quote in honour of you, you crazed squarehead loon. "What sort of person," said Salzella patiently, "sits down and writes a maniacal laugh? And all those exclamation marks, you notice? Five? A sure sign of someone who wears his underpants on his head." Maskerade -Terry Pratchett I feel safe in saying that Madmatt never needs a hat, given his puntuation use. [ 05-03-2001: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Lorak: LOL Mace! Yes once back home I will be able to re-install Rogue Spear and show you that "love" up close and personal on-line. Yes... I am looking forward to it. Lorak the loathed<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Here, wasn't Croda just redeemed from this sort of FPS lunacy? Lorak, you must resist the urge to go trolloping about with these sorts of games. Oh, some RPG now and again, perhaps some TB Strategy, but online FPSs and such are the work of the devil, and, as everybody knows, lead to nervous tics, angry letters to the editor, and school shootings. Do you really want to encourage those sorts of things? And speaking of Croda, he constitutes one third of my 'missing in action' threesome. That is, Croda, Meeks, and OGSF. Meeks sends his jolly, inbred cousin in here to explain his absence and that he is 'under too many demands from the Real World™'. OGSF posted something somewhere around here to the same effect, and Croda actually personally informed me that he had left Combat Mission because he was 'in love', and whoring around with some game called Tribes 2. He also made vague references to a wife and children, work, and, possibly, a neglected family pet. Now, all well and good, and I have myself sometimes absented myself due to the cruel demands of that nightmare called 'the Real World'. But lads, and I'm sorry to tell you this, here at the Peng Challenge Thread we've received numerous emails from your individual 'Real Worlds', and they want a sodding rest from the three of you. Piteous complaints from wives, children, girlfriends, and family pets (Mensch gets these. Something about his dementia allows him to interpret animal thought impulses, probably because he himself is an impulsive animal) all begging the members of the Peng Challenge Thread to get your attention and take it away from your long-suffering loved ones. Your bosses have also written us, appalled that your recent devotion to and concentration on work has brought overall productivity to new lows, and that co-workers are leaving in alarming numbers. In short, gentlemen, the Real World™ does not want you. Neither do we, but we are a band of brothers, and native to this nightsoil, as it were. For the good of the many, we ask you to return to us.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by jshandorf: Maybe that woman of yours can start teaching you how to dress right, THEN you might have a modicum of standards amounting to my right pinky. And besides... I will not sully myself any further responding to you... you...goofy looking bastard. Jeff<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Sigh. Shandorf will also be barred from entering France. It's his great height, I believe, that leads to taunting like this. The blood simply can't be bothered to make the long hike up to his brain. And when it gets there, there's so little to nourish that you can hardly blame it for considering the trip wasted. Really, Geoffrey. Attacking the man's wardrobe? Are you thinking, perhaps, of reincarnating as a teenage girl? I still can't believe you thrashed me in that game. Something will have to be done about that one of these days. In the meantime, try to raise your sights from the...er...sartorial, and attempt something in the satirical line.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Berlichtingen: This however does not change the basic fact that I want your skull on my trophy wall. I have a nice place picked out... right next to Seanachai and just below Bauhaus<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Here, if his skull is to go next to mine, and below Bauhaus's, that would seem to indicate that, when you finally acquire my skull (you cannot think that having beaten me in one out of four games entitles you to it yet), it will be hung below Bauhaus's. Bloody cheek! I demand that, should you acquire my skull, it be hung above Bauhaus's (and in a well lit, climate controlled environment so I can see what the little sod is up to; he refuses to fight me in other than 'impaired visibility' conditions). Where the hell is Moriarity's skull in all this? And why isn't he returning my turns? If he needs his skull to process them, return it to him at once, sir, so that my men can stop shivering out there in the snow!

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by PawBroon: By the Reformed Church of Festering Boils! I have tears flooding from my once clogged eyes. Peng, the Tectonic Knight... ... Feed my lust with a setup and feel my thrust under your parring. Dead man walking! Dead man walking!<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Note to all: Do Not Try This At Home! Even I, more conversant with language and more adept at writing than all but a handful of you, cannot reproduce Pawbroonian prose. In fact, several attempts have resulted in minor injuries. Unlike the words of Peng, which anyone can hammer together in a similar fashion, although such a mechanistic approach generally sheers away all the true venom, or the psychotic meanderings of Mensch, which can be achieved by anyone willing to imbibe a borderline overdose level of ketamine and Canadian lager, the prose of Pawbroon reaches a kind of 'meta-level' of meaning. Even those parts that I cannot help but feel are complete and utter gibberish, still lure me into reading them again and again. Any who did not seek out his superb 'Letters to the Eurowarrior' (correctly pointed out by the scrofulous Lawyer as 'inspired' and 'high art') should read them now. The fact that the crude and scatologically obsessed brute 'Lawyer' found value in them gives me hope for his redemption. All that said, Pawbroon remains French, of course, and lives in a nation that, against all logic, continues to find Jerry Lewis hilarious. This leads me to believe that in France, Armornut, Speedbump, and Harpooner would be considered 'comic geniuses'. Unfortunately for these three stooges, the written word and a finely turned taunt are also highly regarded, and would result in their immediate deportation. Still, there is hope for all. Many another has entered the Peng Challenge Thread fixated upon bodily functions, the supposed transgressions of other people's relatives and significant others, and their own wee manhood. And many of them have undergone the burnishing process, tumbled and scoured by the finer wits and taunts around them, until they could offer forth a taunt more entertaining than 'mine's big, your's is small, and he got his cut off'. Finally, let me just say, in summation: Goddamnit, Pawbroon! Where's my turn?! Are you hoping to win by allowing my tanks to freeze up with rust?

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by armornut: Funny that is how I know your girlfriend. I just was nice, gave her a bone, and she will do any trick I like now. [ 05-01-2001: Message edited by: armornut ]<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Sigh. My only significant other, lad, is Combat Mission. I doubt you can make her do much of anything except register your defeats, and laugh at your fumblings. In curiousity, after reading this rather jejeune insult (did I mention how glad I am to see The French posting again?), I looked up your profile, where you describe yourself as a 'research psychologist'. Let me clear up your confusion. The people giving you medication, attaching things to you, and noting your responses are the 'research psychologists'. You are the test subject, and therefore more closely akin to a lab rat, as should surprise no one. However, I'm right along with you on the 'Village Idiot'. What an appalling little man.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by armornut: That really was a horrid responce, you should be able to better than that. It was, after all, only a half of a page... ...As for your intestines, I will dry them out and give them to my dogs as a treat.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> It was only a quarter of a page, lad, and you get that in acknowledgement of your sponsor, Mace. I always try to find something good in any member of the Peng Challenge Thread. After long thought, I'm glad to see that you're nice to dogs...

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by R_Leet: Chin up, ol' chap. Stiff upper lip, wot? All kidding aside (yeah, right) you are now a legend in the cess. Ought to help you make squire that much sooner.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Phillies Phan, once charmingly known as Hiram Sedai, is already a Knight of the Cesspool. He was not so raised out of pity. At least, I don't think it was pity. But you are correct, he is a legend within the Cess.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by armornut: Seanachai, would you like some cheese with that whine?<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Good God, all, Oscar Wilde is not dead. He lives on in the flesh of Armornut. Not comfortably, and, in all liklihood, he is screaming and clawing to escape (or even just in an effort to sputter out a slightly witty remark). I say we all chip in and hire a medium to interpret the humorous remarks buried deep somewhere within him, after using a full roll of duct tape to gag Armornut himself. Even if the medium can't make contact with old Oscar, think of the incredible improvement just gagging Armornut will engender.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Abbott: Whew, glad reading that post is over..<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> As you actually read it, I've no doubts that we'll see a general improvement in your posting abilities, which, up until now, laddie, have been a bit limp. Although I rather like you, Abbot, as you rarely become excessively concerned with your own or other people's thingies; you seem to be getting enough roughage in your diet, so you avoid the rather continual and disturbing references to the act of defecation; and you spoke rather nicely in defense of the Peng Challenge Thread in the 'How Far is Too Far' or whatever it was called thread. Now, continue to read my threads, contemplate the nature of The French, wrap a scarf around your mouth and nose and breath deep the very essence of the Cesspool, and I'm sure we'll hear you berating Peng Challenge Threaders like an angry D'Artagnan within the week.

My gods, what a headache. I am finally, after my long absence, caught up on the Thread. And not merely this present and rather boringly named version. Know, children, that I always read every word of every post in the many, many threads that this Thread is heir to. Mind, many of the posts involve the same, simple words endlessly repeated and flung like vomit out a car window on a lonely drive across Nebraska (shudder), but I read them nonetheless. I have to say that in the last incarnation of the Thread of threads, the decision by BTS to allow us to transcend the arbitrarily annoying 10 page limit was efficacious. The folk had a chance to hit their stride, and we started to see at least the occassional coherent, interesting, and even witty post. I think it's a function of accretion. One interesting, perhaps humorous post is made, and inspires someone else to emulate it, posting something at least partially humorous and perhaps thoughtful in return, the general tone rises somewhat, the normal slinging of ape feces falls off as the minds of the inadequately evolved begin to register a 'higher' form of taunting, begin, in fact, to puzzle out how to use their own native language as something other than a club banging on a stump while they scream 'ook, ook, ook!'. All too often, the '10 page limit' most recently enforced derails the entire process. We deal with the influx of yammering idjits who invariably pop up in the first 2-3 pages of the new 'Peng Challenge Thread', suffering through their dull and embarassing inability to display personality or intelligence of any sort. Then we plod through the next 3 pages or so of supplicants, with the odd flash of interest as one or another 'newcomer' seeks to engage the communal interest. Mind, I shun the phrase 'newbie', as it arrives with a whole load of attached assumptions and perceptions that need not apply. It doesn't matter if your member number (tut, Bauhaus, are you napping? Sit down anyway) is in single digits. No 'newbie' perhaps, but a newcomer to the Peng Challenge Thread is a Newcomer, no matter what their standing on the Board, in the Game, or most especially, the Real World™ itself. Then, about the time the badinage and banter are beginning to take hold, the heavy clank of the iron lock resounds, and the process begins again. Well, hopefully the recent decision to allow the Peng Challenge Thread to rise to a more noble level, a more significant and appropriate number of posts, is a sign that both the Board software can handle the glory that is the Peng Challenge Thread, and that BTS acknowledges the need for it to reach 'taunting' speed before shooting the legs out from under it. As many might note, I rarely indulge in 'game updates'. Partly this is because I am usually playing so many, er...'people', that I don't even have time to post here in my Homeland, and partly because I prefer not to encapsulate the personal, moral, and spiritual deficiencies of my opponents in brief paragraphs that barely do justice to their failings as life-forms, let alone to the games we are playing. I shall endeavour, however, to begin a new process of singling out the vermin I encounter on the fields of battle (as well as the occassional low-life posting wannabes sometimes found here) for individual treatment in posts that concentrate on their inadequecies at length, in a thorough-goingly 'personal' manner. As for those who find me wordy and long-winded: indeed I am. By intent. Most of you have such a long, long, uphill struggle to sentience, let alone literary adequacy, that it is only by herculean effort on the part of my self and some of our more coherent and cogent members that you will be led into the light at all. Do I, in day to day conversation, speak like I write here in the Peng Challenge Thread? No, of course not. I am, actually, blunt spoken, raucous, and even vulgar. However, unlike many of you, I am capable of speaking just as I write here. Oh, and unlike most of you, I know exactly why it is that Bauhaus is asked to seat himself, and where it came from; I remember the arrival of each and every one of you boll weevils; and I can explain, at lengths too harsh to escape the notice of the Hague, the entire genesis and evolution of the Peng Challenge Thread. Selah. [ 05-01-2001: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Ahem. I regret that, life commitments being what they have been lately (some of you, perhaps many of you, should understand the concept, or, at least, the concept of being committed for life), I have not been able to read or post to this rather exalted, er...body of badly de-evolved spin-doctor failures. I plan to rectify (I see you looking a bit unsure, Bauhaus, but it only sounds suggestive, so you were right to remain seated, if you'll forgive the implied pun) this situation this weekend, when I will compile a creditable chemical mix and get caught up on all the high, middle, and low thoughts of this exalted Thread. But I found it necessary to step (carefully) in tonight to announce my First Ever loss to the Artist Still Known as Berli. In a test scenario that was quite intriguing, with a rather nicely done map, Berli, playing the brave and daring French, did quite rudely and in a style befitting Parisian waiters maul, manhandle, and finally brutalize my gang of somewhat assertive and arrogant German tourists, who had come to the wine country seeking naughty books in the local library. Their credit cards were seized and overcharged, they were insulted to their faces, and, finally, the survivors all went into the nick and are demanding to speak to the local German consulate. Now, after 3 straight wins against the Evil One (did I mention that I've previously defeated Berli in every game we've played?), I have finally been defeated. How, you might ask? Quite simply: because my opponent failed to indulge in gamey play of any sort. Oh, yes, I sense eyebrows going up out there in cyberspace (and, with most of you, immediately running into the hairline of your sloping foreheads). How can this be? Any reader, even the most casual, of this Thread, the Main Board, or even the New Yorker, is so alerted to gamey play that their every tactical decision is based on a bristling watchdog mentality designed to cope with and defeat the inevitable 'gamey' play of their opponents. I was, as I say, alert for this ever present danger, so reminiscent of my childhood when I was taught that Communists lurked in even the most secure and intimate recesses of my life and environment, resulting, ultimately, in my inability to indulge in carnal relations without first checking the entire area for subversive voyeurs reading Mao (this behaviour thoroughly documented and on file, as I discovered as a by-product of the 'Freedom of Information Act', which allowed me access to the surveillance footage of every aspect of my life compiled by my own government, who have me constantly on camera peering under beds, peeking into closets, and checking for listening devices before settling down to hold up with one hand an album cover depicting the young Grace Slick). So, in the spirit of a McCarthy-ist "I hold in my hands, ladies and gentlemen, absolute proof that there are Gamey Players in the American State Department!", I was so fixated on the possibility...nay, certainty that it was only moments before I would be subjected to 'gamey' play, that I could hardly focus on what actually occured in the game. Taking advantage of this conspiracy/bunker-mentality angst, Berli, as usual, merely played through the scenario using tactics consistent with the historical time-frame, sound military logic, and the units at his disposal. After weeks of reading the current Combat Mission Board, I was mentally, emotionally, and spiritually unprepared to deal with such an approach, and so, went down to defeat. Let this serve as a warning to all the other players out there: It is still possible that, against all logic and expectation, you might face an opponent who is a tactics-using, historically aware, game loving sack of ****e, rather than the enlightened, 'gamey', winning-is-more-important-than-playing opponent that we have come to expect, and even embrace. I think, now, that I have done my duty as a Combat Mission player and a Peng Challenge Thread member to reveal Berli for what he is. Beware! And beware of those like him! Oh, and remember, children, to describe anyone who defeats you fairly as 'gamey'. This helps us distinguish between those who use 'gamey' and therefore expected and acceptable tactics against us, as opposed to those bastards who use legitimate tactics against us unexpectedly, and therefore in a 'gamey' manner. While it's true that here in the Peng Challenge Thread we are all about the satire, we are also about the frothy bubbles that form, scintillate, and burst above the very 'Cess' itself. Others may yearn, others may spurn, but only we are the Peng Challenge Thread, and we will define the genre. Whatever your approach to the concept of 'gamey', remember, this is the Peng Challenge Thread, and whatever we may say to each other, and about each other, we smite each other like gentlemen, and however vulgar we may get, we are not the Main Board. If you cannot find Honour amongst boasters, liars, and vulgarians, then where can it be found? In Politics? Lorak, Proclaim it: Seanachai: long-winded, pontificating, but significant contributor: Loss Berli: evil, untrustworthy, suspect, but musically apt: Win. The rest of you lot, and especially you Peng Challenge Thread recent arrival boat people, my rather worn footgear needs buffing. Tongue it.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Berlichtingen: Why Peng, are you in need of a third party created scenario? I think I may have something stashed away here somewhere...<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> This is the sort of thing Lucretia Borgia used to smilingly whisper at banquets. Becareful, Peng. Lucifer, Bringer of the Light, they used to call him, but the Adversary is how he's known now. Nothing is what it seems, and to sup with the Devil, you must have a long handled spoon.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Berlichtingen: Now, now, now Marlow, let's not be making fun of the poor unfortunates of the outer board.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Other than endlessly demanding the complete re-coding of the currently completed game, I thought that was the only purpose many of them served in the Universe.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Agua Perdido: Lorak! Raise yourself from the depths of loathing (and Cess) under which you (and we) forcibly hold your head and record the following bloody topplement: Agua Perdido: Another victory for the hallowed principles of life, liberty, violence, sleek hairstyles, poppy-seed bagels, the implied threat of Mormon Wives and justice for me. Seanachai: Thoroughly bashed with the constitution stick, then debrained by the heels. Agua Perdido<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> 'Tis true, oh Lorak! 'Tis sad that 'tis true, and that it is true, 'tis sad. Actually, the hand-carved lump of excrement boldly known as no man has been known before as Agua Perdido, did indeed defeat me, and he was a gent about it. The game came on somewhat slow, and the opening give and take of combat filled me with guarded confidence. Then, sadly, everything went to complete ****e, my squads, in their longing to advance, were mercilessly bludgeoned, battered, and, in a rather unsophisticated manner, absolutely buggered. Some squads broke as many as three times. Some actually came back from being routed, and tentatively advanced before dropping to the ground and expelling all bodily fluids. I would have been more apalled, except that my opponent's troops were similarly bebothered and bewuthered. But when the Great Scorer came to write against our names, he showed the vile Agua Perdido as still having some control over his men, while it was quickly determined that I hadn't a squad that could be entrusted to walk a brace of recalcitrant poodles without bursting into tears. I move that Joe Shaw be beaten around the ears with an incontinent Pug dog, and that Agua Perdido, he who has posted here repeatedly, showing no good sense at all; who has attempted (however badly) to use fiction in his posts; and who has, finally, suffered under the horrors of being Squire to Joe Shaw, be raised to the level of Knighthood (such as it is). The useless bastard has not only gone the distance, his willingness to endure Shaw proves he's so daft and inured to stupidity as to make him fully worthy of being a Knight of the Cesspool.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Phillies Phan: I think this is the appropriate place to post my odd victory. I just had a TCPIP game vs Elvis (King of South Philly). I won with Canadians. I sincerely hope that my Uncle Seanachaiwould be proud of me on this day of triumph. Good night.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Indeed, Hiram...alright sigh PhPh (apparently you're not going to let go of this, so we shall just have to humour you)...I am proud of you. I only achieved a draw against the King (remember, PhPh, a cat may look upon a king), and he was horrible, and awful, and disgusting, and any amount of vile in the process. And as for your looks, Hiram...er, PhPh. Here in the Peng Challenge Thread, we judge a man or woman by their soul, or rather, the depths to which it will descend, and the heights of taunting that it might achieve. The physical shell is so much dross. Witness Stuka. Or look at Shandorf. Many do not realize this, but Shandorf is...well, disturbingly and unappealingly tall. It's hard to believe a woman would go anywhere near him. Or Mensch, for that matter. He looks the well setup young man in his picture in Lorak's "Cesspool", but mad dogs howl in recognition of a kindred soul whenever he posts. Judge not the book by its cover, lest, upon reading, you find it to be a badly printed copy of "Waste Disposal Management: A Primer With Exclusive Action Photos For the Smart Set".

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Iskander: Lorak and I are down to five men each; if I’d known he was another Protestant Irishman I’d have beaten him by now just to restore balance to the natural order of the Universe. <HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Pat. “Will you shut up. As I was saying, he had every class of comfort until one day he discovered he was an Irishman.” Meg. “Aren’t you after telling me he was an Englishman?” Pat. “He was an Anglo-Irishman.” Meg. “In the name of God, what’s that?” Pat. “A Protestant with a horse.” Ropeen. “Leadbetter.” Pat. “No, no, an ordinary Protestant like Leadbetter, the plumber in the back parlour next door, won’t do, nor a Belfast orangeman, not if he was as black as your boot.” Meg. “Why not?” Pat. “Because they work. An Anglo-Irishman only works at riding horses, drinking whisky and reading double-meaning books in Irish at Trinity College.” “The Hostage” —Brendan Behan

Roight, then, we didn't start this one but I can already see the Usual Suspects slinking in to disport themselves. Out, Out, you sordid lot! Back to the Peng Challenge Thread. Gyrene, fall by the Thread and Peng might delegate one of the slightly more seniour newcomer scum to spit on you.

I'm a little worried about Mensch. He's more than usually incoherent and the gibberish spouted since his reappearance is extra vilely awful. Also, I demand the resumption of French Posting! And the return of Hiram Sedai! And I demand the Peng Challenge Thread be allowed to go to 20 pages before eviction! Oh, and the Sudetenland, I want that as well. I'm not telling why, but take my word for it, those Czechs have got a surprise in store for them! And some mints left by Madmatt on our pillows at night would be delightful, but I'm not insisting on it. They'd just be very thoughtful.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Chupacabra: Berlichtingen is...a punk rocker Berli-ichtingen is...a punk rocker Berlichtingen is...a punk rocker no-ow-ow-ow-ow<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Why, look, Chupacabra's back. Mind, he seems to have thrown his crown cards into the Thames and is only playing with the light end of the deck, but he's back. What's become of our long lost game? Now that you're out of the workhouse, we could actually try to finish it.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Phillies Phan: Being a consumate...<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Hiram, stop mocking Lorak (and don't tease Mace; he's Australian, and they bite). Now, please drop this horrible, presumably 'sports' oriented monicker, and resume posting under the proud name Hiram Sedai. I don't know why you have forsaken it. The gods know, it's head and shoulders above many of the paltry nom de guerre one finds on the Board (or even the Thread, for that matter) these days. I mean, really, 'Speedbump'? Makes me think of mangled armadilloes. 'Ellros'? Doesn't make me think of anything at all (which is, actually, rather fitting). 'Harpooner'? Well, actually, that one's not all that bad, but the man's an idjit. I don't like to pass up an opportunity to state that. I mean, Meeks's cousin, and he's clearly still borrowing structure from "The Big Book of Beginner's Insults". 'Friendly Fire'? Pity he hasn't managed to shoot himself. Hmm, hmm, another evening of being an annoying, pointlessly over-educated old man. My work here is done! Let's ride, Shaw! [ 04-17-2001: Message edited by: Seanachai ]