stevetherat

This, Albino Paradox, is going to be a demonstration in combative high art. I have learnt from my mistakes in your 'style' of play and put in place the most rigourous strategems enabling your complete topplement from our history of battles. Yes, I'm being cautious. But no more so than any other facing the gamiest and luckiest and code-manipulatingest son of a kerb crawler, such as you. You can expect, in due time, your entire force to surrender intact without a shot being fired by vastly superior, and therefore WAY over your head, tactics and skill. Give up now while you still have a face worth saving. StR

Hey, Karl, steady on mate. It was just a bit of humour. Are you German? StR

Bastard!

You freakin' ARSEWIPES Petal and Compost. What the frealin' hell was THAT? Let me put the rest of you slags in the picture. The Furball and I are duelling for the amusement of our obese and drunken sponsors. While they munch chicken drumsticks and chips, we are to battle on an abortion of a map which would challenge Boreli for the coveted title 'The Complete Bastard of CM Scenario and Map Making". What we have is a series of land blobs connected by over exposed bridges in a sea of molten puss squeezed from face of Hell itself. My force selection (thanks Crockof****) can only have come from the warped mind of a serial Category A detainee that this freak is. Obviously, I can't go into detail. My only hope is that my Richard Geer fearing opponent has an equally dire selection than I have. Peter and Croda you are both Section D cases of the highest order. Hamster, how about going on stike? StR

Jesus Petal! What are you doing? Cradle picking MY forces! Holy ****, this ain't gonna be nice.

OK Corpus, subject to the approval of my sponsor, I put myself forward for a thorough seeing to by your mass of fur and whiskers. I will, of course, win hands down which, in the process, will embarrass you to the point of suicide. Two birds, one stone. Very economical. Even Germanicsquib would appreciate the simplicity of this doctrine. Please consult PansyNZer for further details. StR

Holy flamewar! What's going on here? Andy flaming Pandy, what's got your goat? The pressures of work, no doubt. Yes, I know, we lead a hard life here in Mighty Blighty and a passenger like yourself finds it hard to bear sometimes but, fear not, help is at hand in the form of a cool, soothing beverage. I offer you a cup of heartfelt liquid aid (and that PansyNZer if he's around) on Friday after an obviously hard slog at the office. I offer myself up to help unladen your woes. Come, lay your troubles on my wide and trusty shoulders and, from then, walk taller and straighter. StR

I whine because there is no cover at all! You have plenty. You, ya pansy-arsed little fecker, were shrouded in fog for your attack! You can look forward to being plastered over the field like jelly on toast, git! In other news, Wildman is in such a wrath over me, I just can't help laughing. A big old belly bouncer. The amount of trouble my poor little baby tanks have caused his Tigers is just a picture. Well, if you put them out in front of me with their arses hanging out, what do you expect? More updates to come when I get the freaking files back.

Please Sir Pansy, forgive me for talking in my sleep. I think I may have eaten too much of that cheese you so kindly supplied me with from your under garments. And, may I say what an effective method you have of waking me. That sharp and ferrocious kick to the liver was most refreshing. However, a slice of toast and glass of orange juice would have been ample, Sir. As to one my battles, I think you will hear many a cussword from that Ultimate Pansy Wimpmelt. I dispatched one of his precious Tigers with one of my 75 Sherberts last night. There has never been such a pyrotechnic display since the milennium extravaganza on the Thames. Quite pleasurable. The others are coming along quite nicely, especially the one with your esteemed self, Sir. Honestly, I'm trying my hardest to appease you with easy kills, Sir, but you seem relutant to take them, and instead offer your own units to be sacrificed. But, I'm happy to do as you wish, Sir, and will continue to slay all that you present to me. StR

Sir PansyNZer Pray, what have I done to offend thee? While in Holland, I pined by your abscence, I could not sleep a wink in the sewerage pit you knidly gave me as shelter, for a broken and empty heart. I have redecorated my pit, by the way. The bricks, chicken bones and broken wine bottle you knidly tossed my way last night sit proudly pushed into the soft walls. Could I ask that when you next give such generous gifts that you don't throw them so violently, Sir. My ability to eat solid food has passed into history now that my only remaining tooth was dislodged by the brick. And the bottle has unfortunately removed one of my lips while I vainly tried to lick up the last drops of that tremendous wine. All that is an aside now, anyway, as one of the chicken bones I was sucking the fat off slipped from my grasp and has become embedded at the back of my throat, ending my ability to consume any foodstuffs at all, Sir. I will, however, endevour to serve you to the very best of my ability, and have constructed my very own gift to you, Sir. If you would kindly follow me into the woods over there, I will present you with my gift, at not inconsiderable cost of labour and expense. ...What, Sir? That horde of youths with clubs and batons? No, Sir, I do not know who they are or what they are doing in our path. They look angry, Sir? Caressing their weapons, Sir? No, surely not. Merely passing the time in a community get-together, probably. They're running this way, Sir? Shouting and screaming bloodthirsty war cries, Sir? 'Tis but a game, I'm sure, Sir. Actually, I think I have neglected one of my duties. I don't think I quite got the buff right on your horse's arse, you kindly asked of me, Sir. If you would kindly excuse me for just a moment, I will attend to it immediately... StR

HerBladder Burst, you may of heard the phrase "Honour among thieves". There is a similar honour, I believe, among the cutthroat and backstabbing world of Squires. It is in this tradition I congratulate my opponent. Though I think less of him than the turds I flush away every morning, I cannot deny him the accolade. And yes, I believe that he did cheat and bribe his way past my easily swayed defenders, using cheap whores and back-country moonshine. For that, I have requested a rematch and I shall give no quarter. StR

It is my duty, though I reel from the task, to relate to you the occurances of my brusque with Agua Perido, and the consequential outcome. My yellow Fallensquirters were obviously recruited from the most underfunded YMCA hostilleries in every dark corner of the Germanic empire. At every decsive moment they broke like the hymen of a 30 year old virgin and ran like Warden Joe was calling them in for dinner from a long day on the chain gang. Every single ambush was skirted around and evaded. My FOs were set upon by legions of machine gunners. My SPGs swarmed by the shells of Shermans. In truth, APs attack was an exhibition in style, execution and humiliation. I can't fault a single phase of his reign of terror. I feel fuller by the experience and shall examine the files again for my education. So, what are we to expect? I can see threads of jubilation from Aguas leige SlackJaw Shaw and, hopefully, an examination from APs side. But, from me, nothing but respect in a (aspiring) gentlemanly manner. Lorak, please enscribe the following: OpenPore Shaw's bastard love child, Albino Peroxide: Win by the fowlest of means stevetherat: The bittersweet symphony of surrender

A few points of little worth. Firstly, a hearty (but muttering his discontent under his breath) welcome back to Wiltman and Margo. Secondly, pansies, the lot of you. Thirdly... I've run out. There is no thirdly. No, I've got one. The title attributed to underlings should be serf. Serfs were LOWER than squires in my day. Squires actually had a bit of status, at least by association. Serfs were the 'unseen' masses of slums in my childhood provincialdom. Lorak please denote these pretenders as serfs. That is all, except to say that I'm still at work at 9 frigging 15, p frigging m! Bastards! StR

Hereby lies a way overdue update on the battles I have in progress. Some of the descriptions here have caused me great pain, while others are quite simply a joy to retell. I shall waste no further time. Assistant, the lights please. Agua Perido is quite simply kicking my rear end all the way back to Berlin. I can only praise his magnificent use of combined arms to thoroughly spread me on the field like thick fruit marmelade. This is enevitably going to end up in a venomous rematch. Chupcabra supplied a featureless map. A blanket of green, peppered with one or two trees for effect. Although I have advanced over a third of the way across this enormous 'park' I have only come encountered an MG team and a tiny peashooter gun that can't even penetrate my Daimler. Croda and I are building snowmen together and having a ball of a time playing 'Hide and Seek'. I find him and he runs off to hide again. He had a wonderful collection of vehicles I spotted with a lone Churchill. After a quick exchange, all they are doing now is melting the snow with the over zealous fires the crewmen seem to have lit in the turrets. Iskander was complaining that he couldn't find me in the acreage of our map. I thought it might be nice to show my head and I'll be damned if he wish that I hadn't. Poor chap, he's calmly walking his mass of morons in open country while I'm shelling, gunning and machining him down like a fun park target practice. Marlow has gone fishing. PeterNZer is supposed to be good at this isn't he? Well, salutation is at hand. Everthing he has brought to me has suffered the same fate. Scrap. On the outside I show a frowning and sympathetic expression. On the inside I point and laugh. Treeburst155 and I both had exactly the same idea. Flank attack! Unfortunately, we chose the same flank and he had the better positions. Result: Pop go my tanks and infantry comitted to the attack. I have regrouped a small force and will try a different plan. But I have yet to come up with a good one! Wildman has also gone fishing. OK, lights up. Please make your way home safely and may I remind you this is a residential area. StR

Iskiptoher Did you get my file? Did you like what you saw? Happy now?

Hey Munch, I have that flikflak chariot well covered. Any moment now it's going to be a new baked bean tin.

Hey Harv, easy on the rats! StR

For the benefit of the infestation of 'newbies' to this One True Thread™, and The Peng Challenge siblings, I enclose a mantra for you to live by, abide by and strive for. This royal throne of knuggets, this sceptred Thread, This board of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Hades, demi-pit, This fortress built by Peng and Seanachai For infection and the hand of war, This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in a grognard sea, Which serves it in the office of a wall, Or as a moat defensive to a castle Against the envy of less worthy threads This blessed board, this Thread, this realm This Cesspool. Learn this and you will be True. StR

Oh Sh*t, that doesn't sound good! If any of 'our side' are watching, hold on to your pants, you're gonna need 'em for catching crap... StR

Gordon How did it go down? The suggestion, I mean (without giving anything away to those Germanic Tribesman!). What was the response and what are we doing next? Placing units and plotting moves? I won't know until I get home (about 5 or 6 hours away) Steve

Aromanuts, your setup shall be longboating its way to you shortly. In the meantime, hippy, I wish you luck in unravelling those Damn Yankees™ heads, though I fear you waste your time. Iskandynice you chipmonk. You may be under the false impression that this is a Meeting Engagement. To forcibly put you on the right track, we are engaged in an Attack, you slack-jawed, fly-catching, bumpkin. Get you pansy arsed men into gear and come get me. StR

Hey Gordon Am I still in? I haven't heard anything after my moral lifting and tactical speach-mail Steve

Mace I thought all Aussies dressed like this. Well, the ones you send here do. Why are you so shocked?

I can't believe I'm being answered back from a late flowering, west coast hippy, lab fixture. You have respect for your elders, sonny, and not the type of 'respect' you give your cousins, but the type befitting your better in experience and panache. Please, for your own sake, go back to which ever Springer show you crawled from and take Jerry's advice. StR

(slowly shaking head from side to side while looking down with a chastising expression to Aromanuts) He's right you know. (turns and walks away, leaving Agromints with half-smiled embarrassment, nervously playing with his hands)