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Will the Peng Challenge Thread be modeled correctly in CMAK?


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ROIGHT! Listen up then lads, this here is the Peng Challenge Thread also known as the Mother Beautiful Thread (MBT for short), the CessPool or just the Cess.

If you don’t know that, it’s because you are an SSN (Scum Sucking Noobie, that is).

Now, as an SSN, you only have one thing to do. SOD OFF! That’s our little way of telling you to hit the road, take a hike, hie thee hence and git stoofed.

WHAT? Still here are ye? Well, aren’t you the cheeky one. If you plan on staying around, here are the rules. Read them. Learn them. Live them.

(XLV) Challenge someone! That’s why it’s called “The Peng Challenge Thread” . No, you may not challenge a Kanigget or an Olde One. Nor may you challenge a squire. You can only challenge an SSN such as yourself. If you fail to do so, you can SOD OFF! Oh, and anyone bothering any of the lovely and charming Ladies of the Pool, will have to deal with Grue, and no one want’s that now do we?

(ibid.) Challenge with wit, panache and hatred. Use what wit you have not as a cudgel, but rather as a rapier. If so, you can accrue many points that can be used later in our gift shoppe. If you have no wit, you can SOD OFF!

(L.S.M.F.T.) You need to have an E-mail address and a location in your profile. Why? The better to send PBEMs and to mock you. If you have no E-mail or locaion in your profile, best be putting them in now or you can (Sing it with me!) SOD OFF!

(ipso facto) Act as if you have a pair, but don’t go on about YOUR pair. It’s embarrassing for everybody. Also, kindly leave your prejudices and racism at the door. if you can’t do that...wait for it...you can SOD OFF!

(abba dabba do) If you have any questions, please feel free to SOD OFF!

( Ha! Weren’t expecting that one were you? Idjit!)

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It's time for a tale of pride, anger, and utter, utter humiliation.

It's time for a tale of Boo.

With burning desire to relive the proudest moments of his Ohioan heritage, Boo accepted my challenge to duel after the fashion of our ancestors who took part in the War Between the States. With the same arrogance and lack of regard for the finer, blunter, and even completely obvious points of military strategy as his blue-coated forefathers, he met me on the field of battle.

Briefly.

He began with a blundering charge into my flank, hoping to silence the ATRs which were wreaking havoc with his cowering MG carriers, but lo!, he found a thin, feldgrau line “standing there like a stone wall.” Though twice their number, his green, alabaster-livered infantry turned and ran after less than a minute of combat, with the loss of half their number.

There was much lamenting and gnashing of teeth accompanying his next turn.

To picture what happened next, you must imagine the charge of the light brigade...in reverse. Yes, imagine it was the emplaced guns that charged, or in this case, were very slowly pushed, towards the enemy.

My gunners were paralyzed with laughter at this move, and it nearly saved Boo's hapless "charge" until, though blinded by tears and convulsing with uncontrollable mirth at pure, Ohioan stupidity, one of the gunners managed to fire a single round.

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This obvious, but I don’t doubt totally unanticipated result, was too much for Boo, and he wrote, sobbing, begging me to accept his surrender. Though hardly a departure from his "normal" behavior, the sight of such tearful groveling, breast-beating, and tearing out of what little hair remained by the roots moved even one hardened by the memory of Sherman's march to the sea to pity.

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And pitiful it is, to surrender when, even after great slaughter, your remaining troops outnumber the enemy.

Six percent.

Another dark day for Ohio...

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