TAKING THE BLOODY PENG THREAD DOWNUNDER

[jshandorf]

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by PeterNZer:

O, almost forgot.

Um, you suck, etc etc. Die die, etc etc, want a game, send me a setup, etc etc.

PeterNZ<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

I saw you last night slumming around the CMHQ chat area trolling for a game.

I'll be there again tonight buckaroo. Time to grow a spine and play someone who actually walks upright and doesn't whip his feces at the monitor in anger.

Jeff

[Hiram Sedai]

Another day in the "Pool". Croda, with that sig, you look like a sad little Meeks sycophant. Let me take this moment to state that I give don't give a "flying intercourse"(Pengatory Remarks TM) whether you want a picture of me or not. Go back to saying scary things about other people's dogs and leave the decent folks alone. Speaking of which...YK2-->Yowza!!That kind of talk might make Pushbroom want to leave his life-partner, Jacques.

(But we know better)

Tommorow night I meet the Pod face to face. How should I greet an incontinant, geriatric, Combat Mission elder? Should I bring something special? Does MRPeng like prune juice or do you think he lost his taste buds in the "big one"? Suggestions??

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

Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from religious conviction. - Blaise Pascal

[David Aitken]

M. Bates wrote:

> From the quality of work, I am assuming that you use a Macintosh.

No, I'm a Microsoft man all the way. I've been drawing with PCs ever since DOS in the early 80's. Macs for graphic work? That's a joke, right?

> Are you using Illustrator or Freehand??

Adobe? Macromedia? Get real. MS Word is the one and only.

My latest wart of ork was created using Cylindrincal Ink Dispenser v5.3 and Bleached Wood Pulp v7.1.

[dalem]

Croda-

Came home from work early and I smell sausage! What's that I hear? Goose-stepping target thralls a-comin' my way.

I don't hate you yet, but I suspect I might.

[Croda]

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by dalem:

Croda-

Came home from work early and I smell sausage! What's that I hear? Goose-stepping target thralls a-comin' my way.

I don't hate you yet, but I suspect I might.

<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

You're too late...I'm already behind you, and I hold the VL on your left. *woof woof* Yes, Sparky...just sit tight. Oh you can't hear me anymore can you...than a good *WHACK* to the head with a rolled up newspaper ought to convey my meaning! Now get in the corner you mangy mutt before I decide to let Peter have a poke at you!

I hope you put up a good defence...

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

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Elijah Meeks: You rock, Croda<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

[Marlow]

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by jshandorf:

Marlow: Ahhh..with what fervor he sends the turns, that is until I blow up one of his Jacksons on the first turn. Now the folder where his sent e-mails reside is so quiet I swear I hear crickets coming from it.

<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Bastard shandorf - Check your inbox boyo, your file of hot and tasty death and destruction was sent last night.

[bauhaus]

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by M. Bates:

Are you using Illustrator or Freehand??

<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Master Bates, I assume you just work in Freehand (think about it.....1.....2.....3)

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

Just call me Bruce.

[Marlow]

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Croda:

Marlow Testing both flanks with limited success...

<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Translation - getting my ass kicked by Marlow on one flank, and about to on the other.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>

I hold the prime VL though, as his M4s sit atop a hill in prime turn-into-flames position.

<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

When will all of the delusions stop. Technically you hold the VL, but it is there for the taking anytime my little heart desires. The main thing holding the VL now are piles of German bodies. We've got a pattern going now. You charges the VL, your men get shelled and machine gunned down like the stinking dogs that they are, they run away. We've gone through this a couple of times now, you'd think you would learn. So, just in time for the holidays, a little ditty just for you.

Mortar bombs and Sherman shelling

Fa la la la la, la la la la

Grab some dirt, hear wounded yelling

Fa la la la la, la la la la

Fifty caliber shells are flying

Fa la la, fa la la, la la la

Jerrie's dead, the widows are crying

Fa la la la la, la la la la

See the flaming panzer before us

Fa la la la la, la la la la

Gone to join the invisible chorus

Fa la la la la, la la la la

"Ahistorical" Croda's howling

Fa la la, fa la la, la la la

Cause on the flank an M8's prowling

Fa la la la la, la la la la

Other updates:

JDmorse - Continues to stumble around in the fog. Had one platoon well shot up, with its HQ destroyed; another platoon has taken casualties, unsure of how many; his nearsighted sniper has earned the just reward of the incompetent in combat. I on the other hand have single digit casualties. His revenge: Blow up trees.

PeterNZ - After taking half the game to sneak into attack position, Peter has managed to execute a textbook perfect movement into a kill zone.

Nijis - Poor Nijis. Left just in time to avoid total topplement. One VL has just been completely overrun, destroying a platoon of Joes, and an antitank gun with minimum German losses. Two American tin cans about to be KOed by German Armor.

HIram, oh Hiram. Where are you?

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

We are fierce historical inaccuracers

- PawBroon

[Seanachai]

Originally posted by David Aitken:

Oh no! Lock up your marsupials!

David, that's exactly what I had in mind. Brilliant, truly.

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

Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties,

Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices!

But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli,

All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother!

We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more,

We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

[Seanachai]

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Hiram Sedai:

Tommorow night I meet the Pod face to face. How should I greet an incontinant, geriatric, Combat Mission elder? Should I bring something special? Does MRPeng like prune juice or do you think he lost his taste buds in the "big one"? Suggestions??

<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Peng's favourite flavor is 'ale'. And don't let him fool you with that incontinent thing...he claims that so he can urinate on Squires without having to explain why or apologize.

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

Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties,

Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices!

But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli,

All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother!

We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more,

We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

[This message has been edited by Seanachai (edited 12-04-2000).]

[Moriarty]

Another classic, David. Well done.

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

"Moriarty, you suck." -- Dunno, but somebody must've said it somewhere along the line

[DVN-UK]

Ahhhhhh....I stumble into an incarnation of the infamous 'Peng' thread by accident, and make a startling discovery. One of my opponents 'Marlow' is being very 'relaxed' in posting his turns, yet has the time to post replies that cover half a page and also (if that wasn't enough) to take time out to compose "poetry"

hmmmmmm...

[Berlichtingen]

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Moriarty elsewhere:

Sorry to hear your phancy ain't feelin' too well, PushBroom.

<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Bog, moriarty! I can't believe you had the yarbles to post that.

[Seanachai]

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by DVN-UK:

Ahhhhhh....I stumble into an incarnation of the infamous 'Peng' thread by accident, and make a startling discovery. One of my opponents 'Marlow' is being very 'relaxed' in posting his turns, yet has the time to post replies that cover half a page and also (if that wasn't enough) to take time out to compose "poetry"

hmmmmmm...<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Bugger off, he's one of ours, now. We may hate him, deride him, piss upon him from a very great height, and laugh about him, but damned if we let his creditors come prowling about here looking for him. Claw your way back toward daylight, laddie, sans Marlow, and be glad nothing worse happens to you.

We'll drink no water but drink ale

and pay no reckoning on the nail

no man of us shall go to jail

while he a Cesspooler can be hailed.

(sung by the 7th Cavalry as they rode to battle at the Little Bighorn)

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

Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties,

Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices!

But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli,

All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother!

We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more,

We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

[Herr Oberst]

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Croda:

Oberst and I shall agree to terms of cease fire. We can't find our own asses in this fog, let alone each other. Our men actually retreated from the same battle, and ran together to a clump of trees to hide...together. Anarchy

<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Had I not seen it myself, I never would have believed it. After scoping down to level 1 and following my men with some German troops running nearby, I caught the following snippets:

GI1: Jesus Christ, Joe, I've had enough of this ****e! This is beyond FUBAR!!!

GI2: I'm with you. Let's get outta here. They'll never find us in this fog.

* sounds of running feet *

Soldat1: Hans, der Kapitän ist verrückt. Diese Verteidigung ist kaput!

Soldat2: Ich bin mit Ihnen. Lassen sie uns weg von hier erhalten. Sie sehen uns nie in diesem Nebel.

* sounds of running hobnails *

GI1: Joe!! Krauts!!

Soldat1: Hans! Amerikaners!!

* both groups stop, the Germans throw down their guns *

Soldat1: Nicht Schissen!!!

GI1: What?!? No ****e??? Aw, damn Joe, did you break wind again?? Mother f'er...

GI2 What??? What???

* incoming arty sounds *

* both groups head into the trees, the Germans still yelling *

"Nicht schissen, nicht schissen"

and the first GI cursing "Joe, whaddya want to do, piss 'em off?!? Now quit breaking wind and plug up your ass, or I'll get a hamster and do it for you!"

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

To the last I grapple with thee; from hell's heart I stab at thee; for hate's sake I spit my last breath at thee...

[PeterNZer]

It's taken me a whole day to catch up with this thread. Every time I read a post I am forced to reach for a bucket due to the retching that begins when I read the drivel and trash poured out by some of the fetid minions who dare to simper around this pool.

Watching the drivel pour out of them is less like watching Bush prove that small turnips have been known to outwit him, and more like watching a 300lb linebacker drop his sweaty jocks and take a flaccid reeking dump in front of me while pointing out the bits that used to be carrot and peas.

I am fortunate that I have never had to experience this in real life but reading the pustlant excretions from the nether-regions of Croda and co's brains makes me think of just such an image as the only equal to the revolting performance.

Croda, you misaligned blob of Precambrian ooze. What on earth possessed your parents to consider mating with those insects in amber to produce yourself as an offspring? Surely your LOSS to me has confused your brain and you fail to bow down to your superior squire. I call the BLOOD HAMSTER upon you! Not only are you a poor tactician you have about as much honor as a margarine salesman at a fat-assed trailer-trash convention. We agreed the looser would pay the winner in some appropriate way yet such payment is not forthcoming! I call upon an INQUISITION OF PENG to try you and after we've found you Guilty, to PUNISH you! In case your memory is as poor as your wit YOU LOST. Understand? I'm sure it is something you are more than familiar with already. Should you care to loose again, send me a setup!

Marlow, my child. 'stumble into a kill zone'. You call that a kill zone? I call that "the allied army concentrated in a little spot". Kill total to date: I've killed two of his halftracks and am heavily mortaring his men. Another halftrack or two of his should go soon, ending his mobile forces. He has been fortunate enough to be standing around when some of my guys ran into them and got a bit hurt, and another platoon is currently pushing a few dead over the side, but that's why you get MORE THAN TWO PLATOONS! Amazing concept. At this juncture I should note the computer bought forces I have would have been better picked by Helen Keller's guide dog. Three days after it had died.

As for the rest of you

Geier

Crooning time is over little man. The left jabs have been keeping you busy, here comes the uppercut.

Chupacabra

Get that damn degree thing finished, I want to tear those Germans another new one in Arnheim. By my count they now have about.. 5 new ones. More fun than a pinata full of crack.

Germanboy

Bah! Bogged tanks, crap arty, it's not looking good. But it's not looking good for him either. If I can't win, I can at least grind his men down into a fine green paste and serve them on toast with some kippers.

Shane T

For god's sake, who are you man? Sign your damn nick when you send me these excuses for a turn. If that's Stuart you're packing I'm crying foul, this is a mechanized only game. Either way, he's probably gloating over the kills to my Halftracks right now. But it's a bit irrelevant really, I own 3/4 of the VLs and he's nowhere around. Guess I'll just have to kill him slowly.

Heriam Sedai

I was playing..

no. Not the right choice of words..

I was killing..

still not right. Hm Tricky. Lets try a metaphor.

I was walking along the street today when I saw a little baby kitten in a paper bag. It's big eyes looked at me, it's whiskers twitched and it said 'meow' in ever such a cute way. I smiled, looked at it and with my jackboot of righteousness jumped up and down upon it till it was a baggy of pasty, bloody furry stuff. Well, that's what playing H.S. is like. I feel such remorse when playing his turns. "O gosh, he did that.. *sigh* well guess he'll have to die then". I almost feel like saying "Opps sorry you're such a bloody awful player and I just took out 3/4s of your armor in two turns with the last of your tanks cowering in a bush", but then I remember that this insipid little cretin is more worthy of cavity exploration with a nailgun than sympathy.

Surely there must be laws against playing so badly. Last time I went shopping the old lady in front of me with her cabbage-smelling cardy, light blue hair and 15-items-in-a-9-items cue showed more tactical wit that this boy is showing. Crushing that old woman beneath my heel might actually cause me to think rather than watch as H.S throws his troops randomly across the map. His goals seem to be neither to secure VLs nor to attack my forces, rather he is fascinated with patches of woods and seems intent to find the little fairies one can only presume he believe are in there. No H.S, you and your men won't find those fairies, try Germanboy's suburb. And you especially won't find them with your pants down.

Mark IV

I love it when the bad guys do my job for me. So Far Mark IV has been so secretive in defending what must be the Goat Porn capital of Germany one can only assume he has some vested interest in keeping the town. Which raises the question, why we're attacking, obviously, to crush these little nanny-goat abusers. It can now be safely assumed that most of Mk4's forces are confined to an area some 300x300m. Fortunately, two shells from a 14inch gun will pretty much kill anything inside that kind of zone. As he will shortly be reminded.

Chrisl

One must assume that the loss of yet another Allied tank is leaving Chris a little dazed and confused. Since it appears my armor now outnumbers his two to one and my infantry are shortly to retake the major VL I guess one can assume he's loosing big time. And if you were one, which Chris certainly isn't, then you'd be right.

As for being lumped in with Australians in David A's picture, it may be so Croda, that MAYBE BE ME, in which case I am both revolted and charmed at the same time. Revolted because I don't do sheep, just cute Chinese girls (please note, they are of the Genus 'homo sapiens' one some of you would be wise to adopt as your primary mating partner. Croda's parents didn't and look what happened), and charmed because anything with me in it is inevitably more interesting and charming than anything without me in it.

David, I wish to commission pictures the email is sent.. and so.. err.. too is the cheque.. in the mail.. err..

JShan

Trolling? Pah, foolish man, your family knows it's you who should be living under the bridge chasing small children for their pop-tarts. In fact, I got a game after a polite request, and without knowing the scenario settings or conditions and with a ridiculously short time frame, managed to beat my enemy into a bloody paste and was only a couple of turns shy of a major victory for my doughboys. That makes it 2 nil to me vs the universe in TCP/IP. Pretty much like your score with your current bed partner? Poor being, whatever it is.

Now onto the subject of some of the new filth the thread has picked up. I am reminded of a huge bloated trailer-wench who upon stumbling out of her stinking bed-pit finds a few more bedbugs leeching on her sweaty mass. It should be clear I'm talking about M.Bates GI Tom nijis and Dalem to name but a few of the larger more leechlike customers.

Go back to picking on *he whos name cannot be spoken* and *the other one* back on the main boards before I have to bruise the back of my hand.

Of course I could always teach you pain over some mixed 20-30 turn battles. Ask H.S what it's like to watch your force crumple, the daily agony and about the emails I get from him pleading, nay, groveling to let me into the secret cult of Those Able to Move Units and Play CM Without Looking Like They Had A Spastic Fit When They Plotted Their Turn.

Repulsed and disgusted. I live on in the knowledge lots of you are loosing to me and few of you will spawn to further your lineage.

PeterNZ

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

"I can be quite pleasant, you know" - Andreas

"WHERE'S THE MOAT?!" - Jon

[Mace]

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Seanachai:

Claw your way back toward daylight, laddie, sans Marlow, and be glad nothing worse happens to you.

<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Well, that was a lame reponse Shagachimp!

You could, as one of the mighty Kinniggits, at least had pushed the fellow into the cesspool, berated his parents for bringing him into the world, or questioned his ability to string two words together!

I'm now wondering if you can't get it up any more (your jousting equipment that is)?

Mace

[This message has been edited by Mace (edited 12-04-2000).]

[dalem]

PeterNZer-

Wowee. You can't spell and your grammar and syntax are atrocious, but you sure talk purty!

The folks sponsoring your treatment are probably pleased to see that you are coherent enough to have correctly used the term "large" when referring to me, because that item blotting out the sun over your delusional, spotty skull is my CM Thingie, and I wanna whup you with it.

So if you would be so kind as to have your nurses list your game-type preferences, I will gladly send or receive a file from you. Just add me to the long line of people that like booting you around and I'll be glad to pour your remains into the back yard like this morning's bacon grease.

And because you compared me to the likes of Master Onan I'll make it hurt. Not the kind of hurt that you're rumored to enjoy, either. That other kind.

And if you'd made references to actually consuming the kitten-paste, then I think we'd be a little more impressed. It was a good try though.

[Mark IV]

Originally posted by Croda:

MarkIV...what to say. What an ugly map for him. A night attack. My village set out in tiers overlooking a valley. Not a shred of tree-coverage anywhere. He's gonna Die A Lot!

Cost of doing business. You've climbed a tree to escape the black bear, laddie.

Does anyone know when Meeks is due back?

Turn on your night-light and hum a little song to yourself 'til he comes back to you. Do you keep his picture taped up over the stainless steel toilet next to your cot, or what?

Oh, PeterNZ! Your big 14" is a classic case of tactile envy. The rest of your strategy consists of running platoons across a large open field, and wondering why my troops aren't out in the open too, wearing neon spandex and lining up for a scrum. What battle do you think this is, Marathon? C'mon in. ROF demonstrations on the hour, and just a few minutes to go...

GITom: The Pronoun Whip is just for routine discipline. Keep it up, and you'll feel the Petard of Punctuation, the Spear of Spelling, and possibly the dreaded Hammer of Syntax. I should split your infinitives right here, and rip your dangling participles off with my subjective clause. You'll learn what a meta is phor, boy-o. Just keep it up.

[Seanachai]

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Mark IV:

most anything<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Do ya' know, it just gives the place tone to have Mark IV posting here. 'Course, I hate him for having crushed me in the past, but his off posting days crest the pinnacle of most people's best days. He's an educated man, is Mark IV. Not like most of you lot.

Sorry, scabrous, nose-wiping idjits, wrinkling a forehead and squinting to try and make out the tiny type at the back of your brain pan which reminds you to check whether your fly is closed, and if it is, is anything disturbing caught in it.

Now Mace, for example, derides me for having let some tourist off without having rolled him in fecal matter and jumped on his head while getting out the rodent calipers and doing a full orifice measurement search.

Mace, my dear, pouched pseudo-mammal. The tourist in question cast no disparaging remarks. Passed no judgements. In fact, in his low-key way, gave the nod to the Peng Challenge Thread. I, as the most tedious, long-winded, pompous (just a mo', while I consult my emails for further descriptives...), self-important, autocratic, pseudo-Celt, hell, let's let it go at that, many of you are usually so intimidated by this point that you aren't reading me anyway...gave this same tourist a polite shove towards the emergency survival hatch out of the Peng Challenge Thread.

I had achieved my point. Something that many here will never equal, except late at night through REM sleep fantasies. I had risen up and, utilizing my own unique idiom, slapped a current non-'Pooler away, and denied them their chosen victim. One of our own. Like yourself, Mace. I would, if your's and Marlow's position's had been reversed, done the same for you.

Except that I would have pointed out that you are a particularly useless descendant of 'Combat Wombat', and used your example to terrify Aussie children into emigration, holding over their heads (and what is not over the heads of Aussie children) the thought that continued exposure to their home environment would result in giving birth to more genetic anomalies like yourself, who can (poorly) play a truly great Wargame, but who cannot manage a taunt stronger than, hey, I think you're off your game, chappie!

Now, may I just say, that, in their own truly sad and handicapped way, Croda and Marlow have done some acceptable work lately. They still have a proclivity to plunge a little low, to go boldly where no one is interested in going, but some of their taunting, and general posting (it becomes tedious to do nothing but taunt...oh, not for me, but for the rest of you that aren't as adept it at least becomes tedious for the rest of us to read nothing else from you) has been...well, a bit of alright.

Oh, and PeterNZer, that last bit of yours (certainly lost in waves of drool since I began typing this), wasn't complete ****e. There were actually some fine constructions there. A lot of low and vulgar drivel, true, but some taunting, abuse, and useages that actually reached above the tidemark.

Now, for all those who found my previous remarks arrogant and presumptious: go back and read them very slowly. Now, read them again more quickly. Now, admit you didn't really understand them at all, or anything I've ever written, and that you just dislike me because I make you feel small and confused without actually scaring you. That's alright. You are small and confused. But I accept you anyways. Don't be afraid.

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

Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties,

Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices!

But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli,

All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother!

We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more,

We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

[This message has been edited by Seanachai (edited 12-05-2000).]

[Speedy]

Shane T

For god's sake, who are you man? Sign your damn nick when you send me these excuses for a turn. If that's Stuart you're packing I'm crying foul, this is a mechanized only game. Either way, he's probably gloating over the kills to my Halftracks right now. But it's a bit irrelevant really, I own 3/4 of the VLs and he's nowhere around. Guess I'll just have to kill him slowly.

[Speedy]

Shane T

For god's sake, who are you man? Sign your damn nick when you send me these excuses for a turn. If that's Stuart you're packing I'm crying foul, this is a mechanized only game. Either way, he's probably gloating over the kills to my Halftracks right now. But it's a bit irrelevant really, I own 3/4 of the VLs and he's nowhere around. Guess I'll just have to kill him slowly.

[Hiram Sedai]

Hmmm...only 16 pages worth of Cess that has pooled and the board struggles 'neath the mighty weight of the verbiage. Was it the last essay from our neighborhood bard? Was that the straw that tipped the proverbial camel's back? Are my questions starting to get to you? hehe

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

Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from religious conviction. - Blaise Pascal

[Hiram Sedai]

double post

mind ya bidness

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

Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from religious conviction. - Blaise Pascal

[This message has been edited by Hiram Sedai (edited 12-05-2000).]

[Marlow]

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Seanachai:

Bugger off, he's one of ours, now. … Claw your way back toward daylight, laddie, sans Marlow, and be glad nothing worse happens to you.

<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

My dear Kurtz-a-chai,

Thank you ever so kindly for showing little old DVN to the door, you presumptuous pile of decomposing monkey vomit, but I can show my own victims out. Better yet, give them a shove into the pool, so that when they leave, they will be shunned by polite society, and relegated to a sad, lonely existence on the edge of civilization because of the unique irremovable smell.

"Out, damned stench! out, I say!-- One; two; why, then 'tis time to do't ;--Hell is murky!--Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account?--Yet who would have thought the old 'pool to have had so much stink in it? …

Here's the smell of the Cess still: all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh, oh, oh!"

And the time is fast approaching that I will deal with you, oh lyrical one.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>

We may hate him, deride him, piss upon him from a very great height, and laugh about him,

<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

I remember these and other words, which while welcoming in a strange Peng thread way, deserve utter annihilation as their only just reward. Such words are not forgotten, but ferment in the deepest pits of the mind like that bit of Thanksgiving day turkey that gets stuck between your molars, or the leftover stuffing that sits on the low shelf of the fridge until it grows fuzzy eats the dog. My dark thoughts turn to the ultimate purpose of my journey up the Schloss Peng (and for those of you who don't like these little delusional plot elements intruding upon your taunting … Tough ****). You and your little poetry and sing-song and your little mamby-pamby mincing dances through the forest glen with wittle bunnies and birdies. The day is coming when I will reach the source of the Peng, and chop you into fine bits. Then you will be rendered into gelatin, chilled with diced pears, and served to senior citizens in Iowa along with meatloaf and creamy gravy and green beans as a part of some meals-on-wheels program.

Or perhaps you can serve your role in keeping out the tourists in a somewhat different fashion. I envision a scene much like that on the road to the castle of Vladd, with your body impaled upon a pole set deep in the ground outside the entrance to the 'pool. The twisted visages on your face telling the story of your last moments, and serve as a warning to all that this is not a happy place where the sun shines, and the birds flutter in the trees and sing joyful songs all the day long. But rather that the inhabitants of this dark place are grumpy, and prey upon the weak willed, and tactically inept to feed their monstrous appetites.

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

We are fierce historical inaccuracers

- PawBroon

[This message has been edited by Marlow (edited 12-05-2000).]