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Stuka

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Posts posted by Stuka

  1. Hmmmmmm

    {Looks around the foyer of the Castle}

    So this is the new digs then? Christ what a s**thole! Hey! The top bunks mine!

    Steve the twat:{squeeky voice} "No, Mr Stuka Sir, I was here first"

    Moi: Bugger Off! {Crushes the twats insignificant genitalia between two coconut shells}

    Twat: "Eeek! {screams like little girl}I'll just move to the bottom bunk if thats OK with you..Umm..Sir"

    Moi: Don't you dare you cancerous polyp, thats Colins bunk.

    Prat:{trembling with fear} "How..how..how about over he...

    Moi: NO! Thats OGSF's. I don't care that he's not here yet its still his. Your'e outside posturing for the tourbuses Got it?

    Splat: "Yes Sir, No..no problem Sir, right you are Sir. {Scuttles away feebly}

    "Mind the rain you feckless Moron, or you'll get washed into the moat with all the other turds!"

    {From out the front] "...right-O..."

    Well thats the washing up taken care of, now on to important matters of State:

    Mace: has managed to hold off repeated assaults on his main position and I fear a topplement is at hand, despite the best efforts of the Sheepjagers to distract him.

    Kitty: her steamroller attack is beginning to wilt a little under a champion Stuka defense. Good thing its the last turn though!

    Bauhaus: Oh Bauhaus where are you? My men hold all the VL's and there's not a blowshousein trooper to be seen. I hope your'e not getting gamey with me young man or its the MASK oF SHAME for you.

    OGSF: Will be bleeding-alot-now if he ever shows up in a new all armour meeting.

    Herr Oberst: Has still not made his first move. I'd wager his organs have liquified with fear and he is occupied mopping them up.

    Mensch: Hmm, yes Mensch. I seem to remember a Mensch, I think he owed me a turn somewhere around the time of the Gold Demo, still you can't rush these things, he is Canadian after all.

    To the rest of you...Blow Hiram's dog! (You know its the right thing to do)

  2. The door to the 'pool swings open, in stumbles Stuka,Mace and Mensch, bottles still clutched in unsteady, swaying arms.

    Accoutrements of merriment hang from them in the form of streamers, funny hats and those hilarious Marx brothers glass's/nose/cigar combos.

    Mace still has small tufts of wool clinging to the front of his trousers but those could have come from anywhere and are not indicative of what may have occurred during the 3 minutes he disappeared earlier in the evening.

    Mensch has unsightly brown stains on his size 14 Doc Martins from the kicking he gave a 'newbie' who approached him in an inappropriate manner in the Gent toilets.

    *Sniff Sniff* "What is that stench?" remarks Stuka in the lofty air of a man firmly in control of his destiny.

    "It smells like Stevethetwat has been in here dragging his arse on the carpet again" giggles Mensch, while simultaneously throwing up over Maces back. Mace doesn't notice the warm ooze dripping into the belt-line of his tartan flares as he collapses face first onto peng's sofa in a cloud of wool fibres.

    "Arrgh!" screams a voice from the sofa.

    "Why, its little Croda" booms Stuka in his awe inspiring resonent tone.

    "Wasuuuup 'lil Croda" burps Mensch, staggering backwards into the hat-stand and back-flipping ungainly into Colin's litter tray.

    Croda squeels "I was here alone going through OGSF's underwear draw when I heard an arse being dragged on the carpet, I saw who it was and was afeared that he was back looking for his wedding tackle and seeing as Bauhaus fried them up this morning I thought he might...(begins to cry)....take mine"

    I'm getting sick of this, let me tell you a little story young Croda, a tale of the 'pool as it used to be, a time when Knights and squires lived in splendor in a vast stone castle, where newbies and wannabees would flail their fists weakly on the walls in attempts to gain admittence. A time of granduer, pomp, and ceremony.

    Now here we are in this grotty, 2 bedroom council flat, where riff-raff can come in as they please, flounder around a bit and frighten the dachshund before we can chase them out.

    I hereby call for the council to reconvene the old fuedal order and hark back to the days of old where cesspoolers were cesspoolers and newbies bloody well knew it!

    Mensch giggles again from the confines of the litter tray and Mace farts a tuft of wool into the air as he snores into the stained cushions. Croda curls up contended at the feet of Stuka while a large searchlight beams an image of a Morman wife up into the clouds, summoning kniggets and squires to council.

    Dark clouds gather.......

  3. <BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Doug Beman:

    Hear ye, hear ye! Greetings from the Lord Humungus! The Warrior of the Wasteland! The Ayatollah of Rock and Roller.

    <HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

    Plagerism!! Bloody Plagerism!!

    Doug, plagerists should always start their unauthorised quoting with the phrase. "I am no fool"

    Its a sort of unwritten rule among the Supa Foo's of the forum...

    You know what is fun 'poolers?

    When you are getting your ass handed to you in a half decent sized battle (against Kitty but it doesn't matter who) and while they concentrate their forces on taking the VL's, you are presented an opportunity to despatch a platoon sized raiding force of evil, ruthless nazi killers who wreak havoc among the enemies rear. In this case spent bazooka teams, empty arty spotters, HQ units and a couple of half strength squads have been eliminated or captured.

    Muahahhhaaaaa!! I may lose the battle but those farm boys will rue the day their commander left her flank exposed. Sit DOWN Mace!

    Lesson to be learnt: Hell hath no fury like a Stuka scorned.

    PS. The snot sandwhich's are reserved for visitors only.

    ------------------

    Torture you? That...That's a good idea.

  4. Herr Lorak!

    As much as Celtic pride prevents me from profiteering from the demise of an opponent, I hereby wish to guffaw loudly and expectorate at the foot of my pissweak foe, the girly-squat they call OGSF.

    Let it be marked in the great book of learnings, that this day the PMS sticken, modern dance exponents, of OGSF's attack have washed helplessly upon the solid shore of a Stuken defense. Results are as follows:

    Ober-girly-squirty-furter

    Casualties (77) KIA (18)

    35 Men captured

    6 vehicles KO'd

    Men OK 0

    Score: 18

    Stuka (The Legend)

    Casualties (49) KIA (11)

    3 Guns destroyed

    men OK 61

    Score 82

    Please rack up a ferk'in great Major Victory for the superbly commanded forces of the Stukmeister.

  5. <BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Roborat:

    both Meeks and Mensch could be running around Canada unchaperoned

    <HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

    Of course Meeks and mensch are running around Canada unchaperoned.They are nattily kitted out in a polar bear suit hired from "Bear suits are us", a famous, (French) Toronten hire company.

    They are taking turns at stalking the countryside while wearing this suit, in the forlorn hope that, while serving their time in the suits' rear quarters, that they may happen upon a rougue male polar bear with bad eyesight, a poor sense of smell and an exceedingly large 'appendage'.

    "Being rodgered to death by a polar bear is no disgrace" reads their bumper sticker.......

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