Agua Perdido

To keep us on page 1: UPDATES Screw-all is going on in my games right now. DekeFentle and I are just getting our setup together on our rematch. My sole stipulation had been to make it <=1500 pts, so of course the fenderhead sends me a 2000 pt QB... It's actually Leeo's turn in our game! It's been his move for a least a day or two. Unbelievable! In the last bit of action, I flushed two sturmgruppes and made his hetzer button up for the ninth turn in a row... I'll get that TC sooner or later... There's probably a turn waiting for me at home, of course, but it'll take me another two weeks to return it. My rematch with Seanachai is also dragging in the setup phase after I cleverly didn't attach my file to my email from Friday. My subtle psychological warfare is already beginning to have effects! He chose the utterly daft point value of 1250 as the base, so the wordy one is clearly on the run already. Who else? Croda? Cripes, that brainless prat is movely more slowly in our game that I am with Leeo. Goanna and I have swapped setups and accomplished nothing else in our mini-paragon of randomness (which has resulted in a quite mundane selection of units and conditions, at least on my side). Ah, and stevetherat, also a game in the setup phase. He's hacked the engine in some subtle way that has made the terrain oddly undefendable. Enough bumping, anyhow. Carry on with the filth. Hate you all, Agua Perdido [Edited because I forgot stevetherat, an understandable oversight...] [ 04-23-2001: Message edited by: Agua Perdido ]

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Goanna: Also, in an attempt to stick it ot the man, screw the rules, and get in touch with entropy, I add to the call to lower Agua to full faeces-tainted status. If it's one more game he needs, then I flick a bogie on his clean shirt and challenge him to send me a 300 pt all random QB.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Flick a bogie on my clean shirt will you, you scaly, fork-tongued git? Well then, I shall gladly send you to The Hell Where Lizards Are Skinned Alive, it's just that simple. All-random mini-QB of Futile Resistance to The Man is in the mail. Agua Perdido [Edited to Fight The Power!] [ 04-21-2001: Message edited by: Agua Perdido ]

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Leeo: ...Water-boy has shown that he sends turns at a rate befitting an ice-age...<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Leeo, you loathsome spotty mongrel, I send turns to everyone else with stunning rapidity. It's just you. (But now that you seem to be one of the few games I have left in progress, I may actually speed up. Real Soon Now. Why don't you hold your breath until I send the next move?) <BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR> ...Let him wallow further within the Cess.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Allow me to disabuse you of a misapprehension you seem to have regard "elevation" to knighthood. The end of the 'Pool they populate is deeper, smellier, chunkier, infested by vastly-more-vicious parasites *COUGHCrodaCOUGH*, and generally a ten-times-more-unpleasant place than the shallow kiddie Cesspool we squires splash about in as we learn to fling our own feces with ever-increasing range and accuracy. To become a Knight of the Mutha-Beautiful Thread, the One True Cesspool, is to fully embrace the horror and futility of existence in a very terrifying, perpetual-silent-scream kind of way. Or so I've heard. At any rate, it is not my place to contradict the arbitrary fiats of that screwball Lorak when he decides who is in or out. I will soldier on in service to my sponsor, the noble, learned, well-groomed, etc Joe Shaw, fighting for the glory of the implied threat of Mormon Wives until such time as I complete another game and achieve the rank of knight (and it is rank). Until then, my furniture is here. 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. The Final Score Handsome American defenders of Liberty (me) 55 casualties (17 KIA) Men OK: 86 Score: 84 Horrible, bent, nasty Hunnish oppressors (him) 92 casualties (30 KIA) 1 mortar destroyed 2 vehicles knocked out Men OK: 70 Score: 16 Allied Total Victory The game was actually much closer than the score would make it appear, mostly due to that cheating swine Seanachai's use of such blatantly-gamey tactics as: A). Hugging the center edge of the map 3). Retreating the crews of knocked-out vehicles and heavy weapons (forcing me to hold back extra reserves in anticipation of their last-turn flag rush) +). Using an LMG42 That said, at least he moves faster than that semi-animate lump Croda. Agua Perdido

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Speedbump: I'm a newbie git who wouldn't recognize a Python reference if it silly-walked up to me holding a dead parrot and slapped me with fish.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Hi, Mom!

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Iskander: "I'm not dead yet!"<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> You're not fooling anyone.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Chupacabra: Rock rock, rock n' roll Victory Location! <HR></BLOCKQUOTE> For a long time I had trouble telling the difference between "Rock 'n' Roll Victory Location" and "Rockaway TRP" (It's not far/ Not hard to reach / You can drop arty / on Rockaway TRP). I knocked off early last night to go home and dug out my copy of Rocket to Russia and a bottle of bourbon. Why is it always the good ones? Why Joey--why not Sting? UPDATES Hey! Ho! Let's go! Seanachai is still trying to generate some steam heat with his battered troops and get 'em to do the Blitzkreig Bop. As he confided in his last email, some of them are on their third time being broken. I can relate--my defenders don't keep retreating and counterattacking as a clever strategem (I mean, uh, yes they do. Very clever. All with lots of ammo and good morale status. Please surrender now, we give you nice chocolate bar, thank you for your prompt attention). Croda... hell, where is that daft git? He keeps trying to get squads into the buildings next to my VL, and I keep killing everyone he sends. He is a brat, and I am beating on him with a baseball bat. What can you do? Leeo is a sharpshooter-obsessed sturkompanie-wielder. But I've got Bonzo with me, and I'll lug him to Bitburg right through Leeo's defenders--if I ever get off my duff and start sending turns, that is. stevetherat is sedated twenny-twenny-twenny-four hours a dayyyyyyy and hasn't sent a turn in ages. Or he's on vacation. And a complete git, in either case. And I'll kill him just as much as I did the last time we played. Agua Perdido [Edited because I haven't finished my morning crack pipe.] [ 04-17-2001: Message edited by: Agua Perdido ]

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by DekeFentle: The water boy is gamey as hell but I should of seen it coming based on who his Kinniget is.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Indeed, my most learned sponsor Joe Shaw's tutelage has been no hindrance to my reign of terror over the lesser denizens of the 'Pool. I plead most guilty to the gamey practice of carefully-planned, precisely-coordinated, brilliantly-executed, excessively-hyphenated good tactics. Not that tactics matter for squat in this pit, of course. DekeFentle died like the mangy cur he is, and he's already asked for another helping of hurt before his fur has a chance to grow out. And he shall have it, for mangy though he is, I have yet to tire of kicking him--especially now that he's down. Lorak, please record: Agua Perdido: Glorious victory for the forces of might, right, eloquence, unparalleled skill at parallel parking (heh) and the implied threat of Mormon Wives. DekeFentle: Ignominious defeat. 'Nuff said. Agua Perdido

I know I've been terribly lax with my 'Pool attendence lately... Sod anyone who'll make an issue of it. And sod the rest of you sots, as well. Now, let's see what I've missed... <BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by FriendlyFire: ...I shall suck ...<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Keep it clean, lad! You'll get poor Bauhaus all in a lather. No fair making predictions of the present, either, as you seem to have perfected your Hoover act (no, Mace, not J. Edgar--put your frillies away) in the earlier part of your post. I am pleased (but slightly baffled) that my noble liege Joe Shaw is taking time to grant some feeble lackwit newbie a proper thrashing, if only to keep him quiet. I still have my lecture notes from your PeterNZ: A Gamey Bastage's Tricks Revealed seminar if you'd like to review them. I also have my notes from Hamsters' Guide to Designing Scenarios Just as Well-Balanced as Hamsters if there is to be a rematch. UPDATES I'm too damned busy for updates. I'm too damned busy to do more than lurk and bemoan the piteously low quality of the gibbering pre-hominid newbies who've infested these last few pages. All I have time for is to hate all of you, and I do you hate you. I dream of the day you may each be flayed a centimeter at a time by a dedicated attritionist, preferably while listening to some half-baked maneuverist whine about why we can't all just get along. Oh, all right, screw the deadlines. I guess I hate you enough for this: UPDATES! (in alphabetical order) Leeo and I are killing each other a bit. He's got a Sturmkompanie, of all the absurdist claptrap, but I've got several half-squads of cub scouts who are furiously tying knots in answer to his FPwerferin'-squads-o-death. DekeFentle is running to and fro in the backfield, trying to fake me into a false start. I'm using my tanks to hunt down his LMGs one by one and make chili out of them. Seanachai is a complete punter, at whom even Charles Dickens would cry, "For the love of mercy, man! Edit!" Evidently it's taken his troops the last 17 turns to finish reading his op order and realize that they have to advance. I was getting sick of waiting for them to come up where I can kill them properly. Or run away. Croda.... Hmm... Now that Seanachai's actually posting turns a few times a weeks, ol' Croda's getting to be the slowest mover in my play book. Scenarios with less than 2000 points must confuse the crusty half-wit. Anyhow: snow, gunfire, hate the snow, love the gunfire, hate Croda (who is a brainless prat), 'nuff said. stevetherat is on vacation. Vacation! The bastard. I hate him most of all. He's finally moving forward with his soon-to-be-sausage Brit infantry, out of which I plan to make sausage fairly soon. Oh, how I loathe the rest of you! Except all the newbies. I'd think less of them, if I thought of them at all. Agua Perdido

So is firepower. And I don't think "nap-time" counts as a cunning plan. Wake me when your troop of pre-schoolers are done with their punch and cookies and ready to attack. Agua Perdido ------------------ Feel the pain of outlaw cinema!

Croda, you brainless prat, every idjit on this thread knows that Joe Shaw's alter-ego is yours truly, not that annoying dullard Harpooner. Heck, Joe even pointed it out himself (in an attempt to divert suspicion) in his response to my first post back on the Kinder, More Gentler Cess thread. Heh. Ehhheeeehhheheeh. Heh. Dude. UPDATES! Speaking of Leeo, we're finally getting to the pointy and boomy bits in our little tussle. Minor infantry action in the middle, desultory exchange of tank fire (if me shooting at his Hetzer a few times then wandering off in disgust while his TC wonders what's exploding next to him may be termed an "exchange") and spastic artillery fire (mine because my FO seems to be letting his inner Croda read the map, Leeo's because he's using rockets). My valiant 'zook team has finally destroyed the last of Seanachai's armor. After missing with its first six shots at <100m, the team broke under DF HE. It recovered a few turns later and returned to connect with its last two shots, knocking out the big bully after it learned to believe in itself. There's an important lesson there, but I'm not sure what it is, maybe "hit 'em on the eeeeeeennd" or "buy low, sell high" or somefink. Anyhow, my valiant line of crews and MG jeeps continues to hold his gamey attack force at bay. It's not over yet though: he's got a reserve platoon out there somewhere that I haven't seen yet (reserves! talk about gamey!). Poor DekeFentle... You'd almost feel sorry for the pounding he's taking if he weren't a contemptable lowlife whose skull I am happily crushing veerrrryyy slowwwllly in a bench vise while playing the books-on-tape version of The Complete Works of Paula Nancy Millstone Jennings (read by Eudora Welty). Croda is whining about me having more men than him or somefink. Return my fecking file, you over-torqued lugnut! stevetherat seems to have confused "attack" with "play hide and seek." He also seems to have set the timer at only 20 turns, so let's get on a move on, sparky. Chop chop! Agua Perdido ------------------ Feel the pain of outlaw cinema!

A drunk, you sod. (May I call you 'turf'? No wonder you're squired to a guy who goes by 'Peat'! Heh. Lawdy, I hates puns, but not as much as I hate all of you.) Agua Perdido [Edited for no real reason at all.] ------------------ Feel the pain of outlaw cinema! [This message has been edited by Agua Perdido (edited 04-03-2001).]

Thank you for posting to the Peng Challenge Thread. We appreciate all blanket requests for games, especially when accompanied by weak taunts not addressed to a particular Cesspooler. However, all of our operators are busy at this time. Your challenge is important to us, so please stay on the line. Tall and tan and young and lovely, The girl from Ipanema goes walkin' And when she passes, each one she passes goes, 'aaah'... Thank you for holding. All our operators are still busy. Your challenge is important to us, so please stay on the line. Ah, but I want her so badly... How can I tell her I love her? 'Cuz each time when she walks to the sea She looks straight ahead, not at me... Agua Perdido [Yes, I know I already did this one, but he didn't seem worth wasting the time to do more than cut and paste.] ------------------ Feel the pain of outlaw cinema!

Only if your check clears, as per our arrangement. In the meantime, I'll renew my men's magazine subscriptions. I'm sure they're in for a long wait. Does Leather Tiger Press deliver to APOs? Agua Perdido

Another Monday, another three smelly pages of Cess to wade through in search of that rare gem... A homecoming of Frenchmen and goat molesters (appropriately enough), a tendentious trial over tedium (sorry, I played a turn or two of my game with DekeFentle this weekend and my usage still hasn't recovered), and, well, the usual drivel. At least it makes the stale office coffee taste better by comparison. UPDATES! stevetherat is well-hidden, indeed, having craftily concealed his force in spite of the open terrain of his setup area. Unfortunately, he has to come out and attack sooner or later (thereby demonstrating the value of Not Being Seen). Perhaps he figures he can improve on the drubbing I gave him last game by fleeing off his map edge before I kill him too much. Seanachai continues to be a cheating, gamey bastard with his laughably-improbable attack force of a motorized infantry company supported by a StuH, a Marder and some arty. Please! My crack defending force of bailed tank crews and MG Jeeps is still holding, but for how long? Croda is still a brainless prat. I think we have a game going, too, but I don't recall the details. I think we're killing each other, but I'm killing him a little bit more than he's killing me. Alas, my Mortars of Culinary Vengeance have finally run dry, so he might have a chance. Leeo and I exchanged a quick flurry of turns over the weekend in which exactly nothing happened. I'm almost to the other end of the map, so it's time to start looking for the minefields and jabos (I was wondering how he played so quickly...). DekeFentle's alliteration can't save him from my nearly-perfect combined arms attack. My large-caliber arty is starting to fall around the VLs (killing one of his FOs with nary a hint of remorse or irony) while my armor adds some wacky DF HE and the infantry moves in to mop up the shattered survivors. Forward elements of his line have already started to surrender, and the big alt-U (whether from him or the AI) can't be far behind. Move 'Peng'! For great justice! Agua Perdido ------------------ Feel the pain of outlaw cinema!

Enjoy the respite, you handmaiden's kerchief. As soon as I get a free moment, we'll bleed you slow and painful. Die a lot, Real Soon Now. Agua Perdido ------------------ Feel the pain of outlaw cinema!

To our coterie of hams (not Hamsters, although it probably applies to him, too): .-- .- -. -.- . .-. ... .-.-.- / .- --. ..- .- .-.-.

Jolly good, I look forward to straightening the whole mess out, just need a word with the missus (Honey! Did I leave my kevlar in this part of the compound? What? No, it's just some pi--uh, nice gentlemen we have to, uh, "receive"... Huh? No, he didn't "rat us out," don't be silly... The address on the form... oh... never mind). Sorry about that. Seems the wife made a terrible error when she was filling out the "In case of indictment, please send summons to" section of the Standard Squire Form 86 and put Lawyer's address by mistake. Don't worry, though, those fine chaps from the ATF and I have a colorful history, and I'm sure they'll mind his flower beds when they assault... er... visit his house. Always at your service, sir, etc, Agua Perdido [Edited to remove incriminating spelling.] ------------------ Feel the pain of outlaw cinema! [This message has been edited by Agua Perdido (edited 03-27-2001).]

... and thanks for being a contestant on Why do you think they call it Cess, dope! We've got some lovely parting gifts for you. Quick game update: US: dying heroes THEM: more-dying cheating gamey bastards So, talk of squirely jousts, eh? It was easy to forget the process, what with Foobar and Roborat's whiny "oh poor us, fighting on a goofy map with goofy units, aww, let's hug" non-AARs not coming with any regularity, venom or wit. At least there's talk of knighting them for their not having done anything memorable for such a consistently long time (as good a reason as any here in the 'Pool). I seem to have wandered back to the Thread too late for this new match, alas. I was out arranging a car bo--er... taxi... for my sponsor Joe Shaw (expect a Ryder truck with no license plates... just sit in the front seat and wait for the driver). Still, I'll enjoy pulping that hapless twit stevetherat in our normal QB while that rancid whore(s) Hamsters does its/their unwholesome thing to him in the Joust. Let the Joust focus your hatred of each other, yourselves, and pretty much everyone and everything, as is its holy Purpose. Agua Perdido ------------------ Feel the pain of outlaw cinema!

Updates, because I hate you all: Croda was unpleasantly surprised to learn that my Mortars of Culinary Vengeance still have ammo. Many turns of wacky meat-grinder attrition are sure to follow, and the game could still break either way. Seanachai was unpleasantly surprised to discover my AT Gun of Gustatory Retribution, which nicely KOed his SP Gun. Granted, I am rather discomfited by his heavy mortars, but I'm not the one who has to rush my stout defense. Heaping servings of death for all in this one, though I'm not confident of the outcome. DekeFentle was unpleasantly surprised by the shoot 'n' scoot ability of my Master Chef Hellcat of Vindication, which has KO'd two StuG's in three shots at 400m+ and heaped DF HE on Deke's hapless infantry screen. (My Sous-Chef Minitank of Reassurance had already dropped a building on a Vet FT team). A few turns of mopping-up remain, but the defense is cracking, in spite of the open terrain over which I have to assault. stevetherat is already whining (which is unpleasant, but certainly not a surprise) about how unfair the map is for our rematch. I note that my above game forced me to attack over terrain with about as much cover as an empty parking lot, and I've had good success without even using smoke. Of course, he will be attacking me, and not a fenderhead like DekeFentle, so he shows uncanny prescience in foretelling his own doom. This one's as good as in the bag. You may enclose your surrender with your first turn's orders. Leeo (to no one's surprise) is an unpleasant, slow-moving git who's had my setup for several hours and still hasn't sent the first turn's orders, even after I considerately delayed doing my setup for nearly a week to give him time to plan. He will join Lem Li in the Hell of Being Cut to Pieces. Derision, scorn, etc. for the rest of you louts. Agua Perdido [Edited for bad formatting of culinary vengeance.] ------------------ Feel the pain of outlaw cinema! [This message has been edited by Agua Perdido (edited 03-26-2001).]

Ah, so you're a Navy wrench-turner... that explains it. Here I've been impugning your golf ability because I thought you were Chair Force (the world's sixth greatest air force, behind the USN, RAF, IAF, USCG, and USMC, but still slightly ahead of the Army and the French). Keep up the good work, Wildman, anchors aweigh and don't-ask-don't-tell and all that. Agua Perdido ------------------ Feel the pain of outlaw cinema!

[*rolls eyes*] Yes, you're quite the judge of "riprostes," yourself, there, aincha? Wake me when you say something clever. Agua Perdido ------------------ Feel the pain of outlaw cinema!

What do you expect--no one can parse the gibberish you write (well, maybe mensch can, although his turn as menschspeare may have damaged his gibberish converters). Be grateful for the boon of games granted you for the amusing pic manipulations: if the above is the best you can do for a taunt, you'd better not press your luck. That evil Whammy is right around the corner... Agua Perdido ------------------ Feel the pain of outlaw cinema!

My apologies, liege. I certainly intended no ingratitude by not renouncing Seanachai's devious offer. I saw it as my place not to question the dealings (no matter how loathsome) of proper kaaaaanigits (no matter how loathsome), as I am but a lowly squire and accept my fate (no matter how loathsome) as fate wills it, etc. To prove my loyalty, I have sent you a new alarm clock. I had it specially made with.. er... highway flares... attached to it, uh, in case of a power outage. You set the time by pressing the flashing red button. Agua Perdido ------------------ Feel the pain of outlaw cinema!

It's a poor workman who blames the state for not giving him a general contractor's license. You, sir, are a pompous, overblown gasbag (and with Joe Shaw and Seanachai potentially battling to be my mentor, I know whereof I speak). Are you overcompensating for your stunted Inner Croda? You can be cured, but it'll take therapy and years of being locked in a small iron box. Hopefully one without a net connection, so we won't have to put up with more of your tedious, self-aggrandizing delusions. Go back on your medication, please. Agua Perdido ------------------ Feel the pain of outlaw cinema!