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Wide World of Sport - The Peng Cricket Challenge Cup.


Noba

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Slime away, Ol' Foul Joe. I haven't yet played anyone with alzheimer's, so it would prove a real treat, I'm sure. Whether I win (I doubt it) or lose (more likely), you won't understand, know, or care.

In that case you might consider responding to the email I sent via the new and wonderful "BFC Send An Email To Your Pal Without Actually Sending An Email But Instead By Sending It Via The BFC Send An Email Process That Uses Gawd Knows What To Actually Send The Email" process.

Joe

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Eat feces, Non-player!
Exactly [sNEER] ... The Other Recognized doesn't even play the game [/sNEER] ... of course it's not like you PLAY the game, I mean you'd have to find an opportunity to play someone with even less tactical ability than you have.

But instead you get to play me ... and lose again.

But then you're used to losing.

Joe

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and you think people needed to know that?

Git

Why yes... yes, I do, Stuka me lad, Stuka me boyo, Stuka me capering baboon.

Stuka me flatulant bush baby, Stuka me dingo dancer, Stuka me tabula rasa, Stuka me sputtering spumoni sprinkler (This is fun! Simple mind, right Berli?), Stuka me prancing Pekenese, Stuka me operatic dowager, Stuka me yodeling monkey spanker, Stuka me beemish boy, Stuka me herring sniffer.

Yes, I do.

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Well, this seems familiar and still doesn't fail to disappoint. Glad to see some things never change.
And just who the hell would YOU be ... other than an SSN that is?

We have rules here lad, some written, some not, but all of them apply to you.

So either be about explaining yourself or go play in the sand ... which you presumably have plenty of.

Joe

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Has it come to this, Leeeeeeeeeeeeo? Is that the best you can do? How poor. How lame. How impoverished of imagination and color. How lacking in fluency and grace. How very sad.

Michael

I'm ever so happy to have made you sad. Perhaps you might even be feeling a little suicidal? I mean, you must be disappointed and all now that I'm lacking "fluency and grace." What's the point, then, eh? Wouldn't the quick flash and ensuing darkness of a bath with a toaster bring the long, peaceful night you so raptly desire? I know you had such high hopes for me; and look at what I've done. I've dashed those hopes you cherished so dear.

You're welcome.

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*White Noise*

Joe

Ah Joe...Dear, sweet, senile Joe

I ask simply that you do but one thing...the ON/OFF switch located on that single cell in your cranium, go ahead and flip it into the up position...No, the up position...Toward the North Star...OK, the ceiling then...That's it. Function test...Is it on?..testing...testing...1,2...1,2. Do try to keep up sparky, as I weave my tale. If I progress too rapidly, simply grunt, and that will suffice as a signal to throttle back so you can catch up:

A long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...Wait, that's copyright infringement. Let's try a different opening. Once upon a time in the days of yore (that means a while back), I was but a simple SSN, who tripped and fell into this cesspool...THE CESSPOOL...I found, much to my chagrin, that no matter my attempts at escape, I continued to be sucked back in (just like Al Pacino, only he said it better). One day, an epiphany, the only way out must be upward through the ranks. As I navigated this Byzantine Labyrinth of intrigue, infighting, backstabbing, and general churlishness, I was taken on as squire by one Berlichtingen. Being of quick mind and rapier wit, it was not long until the title of Knight was bestowed upon me. But alas, my plan went awry, instead of escape, I sank every deeper into this mortal rendition of Purgatory. Salvation came to me unexpectedly one day in the form of orders. I was sent straight away to a land down under (dont get excited you Aussie twits; I wouldn't venture to a land whose chief attraction is poisonous varmints and weird marsupials)...Argentina, where wine and beef are cheap, but the internet aint so much. As my travels continued, I began to wonder, are any in the CESSPOOL still alive? Imagine my disappointment when a resounding YES! was my answer. I heard the sirens call once again, but couldn't remember my password for my old username (I drank a lot of wine, I mean gallons), Wolfp. So what you see before you today is a reincarnation, a retooling, a bigger, stronger, faster, now armed with a Masters Degree Wolfp. I have risen from the ashes like a Phoenix taking on my new form...Wolfp MkII! MUWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! And I still loathe you all equally:

Mace-Hate!

Joe-Hate!

Nidan1-Hate!

Stuka-You're a twit! I am sure I will grow to hate you as well.

Lars-Hate!

Leeo-Hate!

Dalen-Apparently dead, but still hated

Michael-Hate!

Berlichtingen-Junior's home papa...Whom shall I hate for you?

Noba-Nice opening, wanker! Imagination on the fritz? Hate!

Boo-Double hate with a cherry on top!

Ladies of the Pool-Utmost respect!

The Rest because its 0130 where I'm at and I need to hit the rack...HATE!

So there you have it Joe, the epic outlining my journies for the last 4 years. To quote that famous army guy who did whatever in the Southern Pacific, "I have been away for a long, long time but now I'm back to free you people from oppression" or somesuch.

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... {snipped though it was a loverly story, incoherent but loverly} ...
Well lad there's the rub you see, for you presumably were Knighted under a different name. Now that you've chosen to return under a NEW name ... well we have no choice have we?

But don't fret, I'm certain some loser of a Knight (and let's face it, we have those in ABUNDANCE) will take pity on you and propose you as Serf to the CessPool ... you do remember how to handle the piss bucket right? It's just like riding a bicycle ... of course bicycles usually don't smell like the bucket does ... and it doesn't spill ... but it's pretty much the same.

I'm personally confident that an Officer of Marines will be able to handle it.

Joe

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