Crouching Tiger, Hidden Peng Challenge

[Leeo]

The post so nice, we had to do it twice;

That pro-PODian Wanker Elvis is to be hated. It's not that I was able to hate him enough to cause his Auto-Surrender in our previous game. It's not even enough that I have methodically been killing his Ami tanks and farmboys in our current mini-Stalingrad.

Oh no. I hate him to depths that can only be properly expressed with a not-so-jolly little sing-song:

"Though you all I berate,

it is Elvis I hate.

Is it 'cause of his sneer,

Or the chill from his leer?

Perhaps it's the way

He keeps my troops at bay.

But whatever the source,

be it genteel or coarse,

This to you I relate,

It is Elvis I hate."

Wanker.

[Stuka]

Oh stop it Leeo, your'e not fooling anyone. Well maybe Joe Shaw but that is to be expected.

I think you have feelings for Elvis.

[Leeo]

Oh, former-Sire!

You care, you Really Care!!!

[von shrad]

What are you saying Stuka ? That Miss Cleo and Elvira might both be 'Gamey'. I can see the chat during game;

'You take the building and Victory Flag.'

"No, No, I insist that you do."

'I couldn't. I just wouldn't feel right.'

"Please, it would make me very happy."

Have they started picking out china I wonder?

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

von shrad

[Stuka]

How can I not but care.

*Ruffles hair*

I remember well when you were naught but a grovelling, trouser sniffing squire.

Over the years I have watched you grow in to the fine, grovelling, trouser sniffing kniggget you are today.

If you have feelings for a fellow knigget such as Elvira, take them out the back. We have rooms you know.

[Lawyer]

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Joe Shaw:

I was born in Texas, my parents were born in Texas and my Mom is buried there, my Grandparents were born in Texas and they're all buried there<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

One could make a strong case that any wit and life associated with your existence was also buried in Texas long ago. RIP.

[Stuka]

Ahh, Herr Von Snob, I trust your stitches are healing painfully and the leach poultice is draining your pus adequately?

I shall e-mail you this evening with details of another dirt bike purchase to add to my collection. Details will be withheld from the MTB to save the moral degredation that is caused to the dirtbikeophobes present.

[Leeo]

BERLI!!

You are naught but an evil Wannabe. The depth of your evil reaches only to my ankles. You are as evil as is the denial of cookies to a kindergartner. Your evil is equivalant to being a half-quart low on oil. You pretend to be evil (non-capitalized for obvious reasons), but you are merely a hair in the rum-and-coke of life. You are but the faux-wizard behind the curtain, and I'm a callin' you out, you pitiful excuse for a demon wannabe. Your number's up, and you are as transparent as Britney's sudden increase in bust size. You, sir (notice the unbolding and uncapitalization?) are merely a wart upon the arse of life, and your vileness is easily erased with "Compound W" (the "W" is obviously for "Wussy")

I propose a random battle to test the shallowness of your evil. There is a nice battle plannerrandom battle generator, and I propose that one of us roll the dice, and let the other choose sides, for I am the "Master of Defeat, Champion of Chaos".

I will prove that you are as evil as an ice-cream truck, aversive as a doorman, and competent as a fast-food worker.

Consider yourself challenged, you ankle biter from the suburbs!

[Stuka]

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

transparent as Britney's sudden increase in bust size<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Ummm, you haven't any photos to back up this outrageous claim have you?

[Leeo]

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

Malmedy Public Library

Member in Good Standing, 2001

<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Feckin' Braggart. I'll kick your arse too (if you can ever figure out the proper fricken file to send). City boys. Jeesh.

[edited to add that Lawyer is a stinkin' city boy (don't be afraid of the sheep, they don't bite (they only wiggle a little, right Mace?))]

[ 08-28-2001: Message edited by: Leeo ]

[Joe Shaw]

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>One could make a strong case that any wit and life associated with your existence was also buried in Texas long ago. RIP.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Th ... that's it? That's the best you can do? Man those long nights in Belgium REALLY took a toll didn't they. Man you're going to be absolutely worthless at work, I can see it now:

Let it be hereby enacted that the party of the first part shall, at the enacted time ... or roundabout there anyway, allocate funds not less than $2,567,895,345.67 ... give or take a couple of K's, to the party of the ... oh hell, work it out between yourselves.

Joe

[Panzer Leader]

It is with great delight that I finally get to throw off the albatroos hanging about my neck known as "Aitkin vs. PL**" (Stars put in to represent the incremental numbering of turns, beginning with 0000000001 and ending with 0847633219).

Yes, it was a win. LORAK!!!!

Panzer Leader: Led his panzers in a smashing victory parade through the rich pastures of Aitkinland.

Dame Achin': Lost the game after his "massed chuchill phalanx" failed him on turn 3, then spent the next 847,633,216 turns crawling his broken crews to and off the back edge of the map.

It is not the thrill of victory that has me flushed this time, it is simplt the thrill of completion. Playing a game with Aitkin is like reading a thread with Aitkin. Sick and wrong.

He died with English verve. A pursed lipped mouth and a haughty expression of discontent. "Discontent?!?!" That's what WE feel, Aitkin, not you!!!

[Berlichtingen]

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

BERLI!!

Herein we have the yappings of a little dog... the sort that tries to gain your attention by humping your leg

I propose a random battle to test the shallowness of your evil. There is a nice battle plannerrandom battle generator, and I propose that one of us roll the dice, and let the other choose sides, for I am the "Master of Defeat, Champion of Chaos".

I wonder if he realizes that saying that he is the Master of Defeat is a bit stupid... or perhaps he is just honest

I will prove that...

Oh look, it just piddled on the rug

Consider yourself challenged...

yawn<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Sir Leeo (bolded because he is a knight... knight errant, but a knight none the less),

Ah, I see you long for the days when you were a squire... missing the boot? Well, lad, since you feel the need to challenge your betters, I will take up your gauntlet (more like a knit mitten actually). You may take your battle planner and pound it straight up you bum... The Elders and Senior Knights play scenarios and leave QBs to the rabble. You may expect something shortly.

[Seanachai]

Reports of my death, were, apparently, not exagerated enough.

Now, while I trust that my sense of humour will always be enough over the top to be recognized as such, I also have a rather horrible habit of verisimilitude in my writing that rather undercut what I had hoped was obvious satire. The whole was motivated by over a week without turns to opponents, long absence from this wonderfully pestilential place, and a general dropping out of sight that, I felt, could not be answered except by humour, even if bad humour.

To those such as Madmensch and Stuka, Joe Shaw, and others for whom that kind of news would touch a nerve, I offer an unreserved apology. I am, after all, one of those constantly reminding folk that we often do not know what's going on in people's Real World™ lives, and to think through our abuse somewhat in the interest of not causing unintended and very real pain.

As for Emma, well, I would sooner shove a live ferret up my bum than cause her even a moments discomfort or concern.

As for the epitaph being in right Cesspoolian style, I would agree, and while I would labour mightily to persuade one of my sisters to deliver such to the Thread in the event of my all too timely demise, I couldn't probably pull it off. My family, for reasons that defy all logic, actually seem to cherish me. Although possibly, in one of those 'smiling bravely, but it would mean so much to me sister dear, please honour this last rather annoying request from a dying brother' style of things, I might work on one of them to appear here and post something of that sort.

However, currently I am in disgustingly good health, other than the stress and elevated blood pressure related to some of my PBEMs, except for the one's just started, and I already have doubts about those. Should I suddenly swing over, though, within forehead knuckling distance of death's misty veils, and convince one of my sisters to appear here and post a roight Cesspoolian eulogy, I will have her preface it with: "A Roight Cesspoolian Eulogy for that miserable bastard known formerly and forevermore as Seanachai, the useless toad" or somesuch.

Now, after a week of complete collapse occasioned by nothing more serious nor interesting than angst and moral decay, I still have several thousand posts to catch up on in what might be as many as 3 Peng Challenge Threads, so I wil say ado for now, and attempt more anon.

Also, should I ever pass away in some bizarre contretemps with zoo animals, which actually happens on a fairly regular basis here in America's heartland, where alcohol is easy to come by and common sense is sometimes sadly lacking amongst the Double-Wide owners set (the Texans among us know that I'm talking about their dream homes, and the future glider toys of the next tornado to come down the alley they live in), I would, in fact, force one of my sisters or their dependents to finish playing all my games.

Why, right here in Minnesota, where chromosomal damage is at a minimum compared to our neighbours to the south, we had some lads climb into the polar bear enclosure at the local zoo in the wee hours of the morning in order to impress and amuse their young ladies, and one of the polar bears, first disturbed by their activity, and then annoyed to find they hadn't brought any beer into the cage with them, proceeded to give one of them a serious mauling. A hastily summoned keeper had to shoot the bear with a .306 in order to save the lad's life. Letters to the editor ran about 3-1 on the side that the keeper had shot the wrong dumb chum.

In any case, Cesspool, Oh my Cesspool, I'm back, and alive.

There, there, try and contain yourselves. Oh, you were. Carry on, then.

-Seanachai

Old One, and Knight of the Woeful Sense of Humour

[Stuka]

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

I would sooner shove a live ferret up my bum than cause her even a moments discomfort or concern.

<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Would that be an African or European ferret?

[Stalin's Organ]

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

Why, right here in Minnesota, where chromosomal damage is at a minimum compared to our neighbours to the south, we had some lads climb into the polar bear enclosure at the local zoo in the wee hours of the morning in order to impress and amuse their young ladies, and one of the polar bears, first disturbed by their activity, and then annoyed to find they hadn't brought any beer into the cage with them, proceeded to give one of them a serious mauling. A hastily summoned keeper had to shoot the bear with a .306 in order to save the lad's life. Letters to the editor ran about 3-1 on the side that the keeper had shot the wrong dumb chum.

<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Does anyone have a photo of the old tea bag we can send to the keeper to help with recognition of the proper target next time?

[Mark IV]

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

A hastily summoned keeper had to shoot the bear with a .306 in order to save the lad's life. Letters to the editor ran about 3-1 on the side that the keeper had shot the wrong dumb chum.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

[grog]What the hell is a bloody .306?[/grog]

I suppose this means the drinks are off... gawd, I love an Irish wake from a well-heeled family.

Pictures of the gaming sister, then?

[Stuka]

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

[grog]What the hell is a bloody .306?[/grog]

<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

[grog] A 7.77mm? [/grog]

[Berlichtingen]

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

[grog] A 7.77mm? [/grog]<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

[grog]Japanese IIRC[/grog]

[Seanachai]

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

[grog]What the hell is a bloody .306?[/grog]

I suppose this means the drinks are off... gawd, I love an Irish wake from a well-heeled family.

Pictures of the gaming sister, then?<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Look, you swine, I meant .30-06. I'm tired, and I was being repentant. Do you have any idea what repentance does to a man?! No, of course not! Well, Berli does, but not in a good way.

None of my sisters are gamers. But they would do their duty to their brother, and either play the bastards out, or have them played. Afterwards, there would probably be a grim Q&A period about the violence level. They would come firmly down on the side of not letting Tiger add gore to the game.

Then they would admonish all the current members of the Peng Challenge Thread to not be a load of useless bloody pillocks. Then there would be a bit of giggling, because they already know what a load of pillocks you are. Ya' see, I speak of the Peng Challenge Thread rather at length. Often far past the point where even the most sympathetic would reasonably listen.

Then, and only then, they would invite you to the next family holiday. Me Mum already wants to know when Berli's coming up to the Cities, and would like him to stop by a family barbecue.

And that, lads and lassies, is just purely terrifying.

[Stuka]

*Indignent*

Oh right! So its just Berrrrrli invited along to your little swaree is it?

Its always the same with you isn't it? its always Berli this and Berli that, Berli may I take your coat and Berli make yourself comfortable.

What about the rest of your Cesspooligan chums eh?

That does it, me and Mensch are gonna gate crash that BBQ, swipe the spare ribs and all your beer, wave our thingeys at your sisters and laugh. Laugh! Do you hear me? Laugh!

Mu..muha...muahhahaahaaaaaaaaa!

[Mace]

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

That does it, me and Mensch are gonna gate crash that BBQ, swipe the spare ribs and all your beer, wave our thingeys at your sisters and laugh. Laugh! Do you hear me? Laugh!<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Things are well with the world again, Stukes mentioned thingy!

Mace

[Speedy]

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Joe Shaw:

Wannabe? Son, I was born in Texas, my parents were born in Texas and my Mom is buried there, my Grandparents were born in Texas and they're all buried there, all of my Great Grandparents are buried in Texas and my Great Granddaddy Shaw used to drink whiskey with Judge Roy Bean.

It's not bad enough that we have to be inundated with SSNs, now we have to deal with Damned Yankee SSNs ... I tell you it ain't fair.

Joe

[ 08-28-2001: Message edited by: Joe Shaw ]<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

So where is Texas?

Is it near that Minnesota place?

Damn big antelopes up that way.

[David Aitken]

Panzer Leader has had plenty of time to reflect on just how he managed to lose so many troops to the few units I had on the battlefield. I started off with two companies of regular infantry with three extra PIATs and three 3in mortars each, four marksmen and seven Cromwells. Rolling through the hills came the PL Sturm Panzer Divisionen. Within five minutes my Cromwells were burning, but he had lost four assault guns, a MkIV, a Wirbelwind (brought Wirbelwinds to a rainy scenario, gamey so-and-so!!), and a few troops.

Then, disappointed with having suffered so little, he marched his troops in parade ground formation, FOs leading, straight towards the VLs. A mere company of my troops was largely responsible for inflicting 33% casualties on his force.

After eventually breaking through, he endeavoured to enhance the effect by calling in 150mm and 300mm rockets in the general area of his own troops. The remnants of my first company at this stage were readying to leave the map. Rather than send my remaining company in to face roughly 10:1 odds, I withdrew them also, and PL was faced with the difficult task of manuevring the other 66% of his Panzer division onto the VLs while I waited for my 3in mortars to saunter off the map.

PL rightly acknowledged that this battle was reflective of real war – everything happened towards the beginning and the end was an anticlimax. My initial pre-emptive strike failed, but tanks to PL's imaginative tactics I had little choice but to blow up some more of his stuff before I withdrew. He never had the chance to use the bulk of his assault force.

Scatterbrain addendum: It should be noted that in the second picture above, the biggest crater is from PL's own rickets. The final score: only a tactical victory, 68-32.

[ 08-29-2001: Message edited by: David Aitken ]

[Panzer Leader]

While David makes it sound like a lovely outing in the park to watch the shenanigans of Kampfgruppe Panzer Leader, there was really nothing I could do.

I mean I did everything right: my Forward Observers were up ahead of the main body, scouting, which is I presume what they are used for. Then I had them "target" a rabbit hole a few yards away and 3-4 minutes later ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE.

Of course I knew at once what the trouble was - "Kampfgruppe Nord" was turning on "Kampfgruppe Sud"! A furious battle ensued, Brits forgotten, while my two pincers battled over the heather with each other. The Computer thought it would fool me by not allowing "Kampfgruppe Nord" to be targetted. Well, I got him by area firing, the scoundrel!

My ex-kampfgruppe fought valiantly by never retreating (or advancing??) while my remaining LOYAL troops plastered them.

So while David thinks he saw a highly comical ricket-strike on my own troops, it was really nothing more than payment for the price of treachery.

Did I mention I think I have an evil twin?