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It's been a while hasn't it...
I won't put the Fog Story in the main topic (I'll post it in the reply) so I'll use this space for a couple of guidelines.
ANYONE can write in this story, but naturally, if something is irrelevant or unreadable or something like that, it might well be ignored.
To participate properly in this story, please:
(1) Try to read what everyone else writes to keep up with the story.
Naturally, people will make the odd mistake and miss something, but try to keep up with what people have written to minimise mistakes.
(2) If you want your posts to be read, keep with good gramma and punctuation (not so much that we're fussy, it's just easier to read and understand. Reading should be enjoyable, not a chore trying to make out what's been written) and try to go for quality over quantity.
(3) Try not to write too much at once. It'll leave everyone else behind! :-)
(4) Stick to the plot. If the main plot doesn't suit you then go along with one of the subplots. Don't start changing the direction of the story at your whim. I remember about a year back some idiot would, in one single post, manage to take the story to heaven and back and twist it so much that it was barely recognisable.
I won't mention any names (mainly because I'd rather remain anonamous! ;-D) but just remember that it's a joint effort story, not simply the down to the imagination of a single derranged individual! :-)
Here's the story.
Enjoy! :-)
I won't put the Fog Story in the main topic (I'll post it in the reply) so I'll use this space for a couple of guidelines.
ANYONE can write in this story, but naturally, if something is irrelevant or unreadable or something like that, it might well be ignored.
To participate properly in this story, please:
(1) Try to read what everyone else writes to keep up with the story.
Naturally, people will make the odd mistake and miss something, but try to keep up with what people have written to minimise mistakes.
(2) If you want your posts to be read, keep with good gramma and punctuation (not so much that we're fussy, it's just easier to read and understand. Reading should be enjoyable, not a chore trying to make out what's been written) and try to go for quality over quantity.
(3) Try not to write too much at once. It'll leave everyone else behind! :-)
(4) Stick to the plot. If the main plot doesn't suit you then go along with one of the subplots. Don't start changing the direction of the story at your whim. I remember about a year back some idiot would, in one single post, manage to take the story to heaven and back and twist it so much that it was barely recognisable.
I won't mention any names (mainly because I'd rather remain anonamous! ;-D) but just remember that it's a joint effort story, not simply the down to the imagination of a single derranged individual! :-)
Here's the story.
Enjoy! :-)
Page:
Meanwhile, the scene opens at SR HQ, where regulars and newbies alike are gathered. To keep up the spirits, Schroeder is holding a freaks talent contest. Mr Snuggly walks over to him, something obviously on his mind.
“We’re expecting our expert agent soon.”, proclaimed Schroeder.
“What are her qualifications?”, asks Snuggs.
“She’s trained 3 years in the bomb squad and has participated in 700 VR missions.”
“Great, she sounds well-trained for the job at hand.”
“I never said she passed them…”, Schroeder whispers to himself.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Is there anything I can do for you? Fluff your pillow? Entertain you with some Chippendale dancers? Anything at all?”
“Get this damn freak show outta here!”
“Alright…Ok fluffy, time to pack it up”, and with that, signals a dog cry slightly lower than the frequency of which humans can’t here. In lamens terms, it hurt them. A lot. Schroeder unpacks a suitcase and begins loading the freaks into it, all of them surprisingly fitting. At that moment, everyone turns their attention to the door.
“Here comes our special agent now”, proclaims Snuggs.
“Why the hell is everything in slow motion? And where is that cheesy music coming from?” And with that, the obligatory serenade ceases to exist, and the agent enters the mix.
“Here’s out top agent, who has no name. There is a lot of ‘mystique’ around her, though. She is a superstitious woman who leaves lucky charms at the body of every victim he executes. I can bet there’s a lot of people who’d like to get their hands on that piece of evidence…like E-Bay…”, claims Schroeder.
“Yeah, they’re always after me lucky charms!”, the agent announces, causing the entire room to burst into laughter.
“What? They’re always after ‘em!”
“We’ll save you the trouble by not explaining it. Look, here are your mission objectives. Stryke and Strafex are being held in France. You must infiltrate the base and set up a safety area, in which one of our own Special Reserve members will parachute down to, and aid you for the rest of the mission. Once the safety area is set up, wait for him to come and then infiltrate the prison, which they are being held. You will recognise them by these pictures. SR is counting on you. Good luck!”, adds Snuggs.
The agent begins walking towards the door to leave for the mission.
“Wait! You must collect your belongings first. Please come to the front desk and collect them.”
The agent walks towards the desk.
“Hello…whatever your name is. Here are your possessions: one 12-inch jelly d|ldo, one ‘educational’ book on how to break out of prison and a Swedish made p@nis enlarger pump.”, adds Loki, who is the desk clerk.
“What, that’s not mine! I mean it, it’s *really* not mine!”
“One credit card receipt for Swedish made p@nis enlarger.”
“There must be some mistake.”
“And a book: Swedish made p@nis enlargers and me.”
“Ok, to get things moving, just gimme the damn stuff.”, and with that, the agent leaves for France.
-------------------------
*EXACTLY FRANCE*
The agent arrives at the hold, but like a midget in a urinal, she’d have to stay on their toes. As fate would have its way, a fence stands between her and the safety zone for the SR operative. She’d have to cut her way through it, so she whips out her wire cutters and begins cutting. Being a comedy, the fence (which read Est. 1897) simply fell over with a faint nudge. The agent opens her bag and begins setting up the safety area for the SR agent to crash land onto. A ringing noise sounds in her ear and a speech begins.
“Hello? Is it you? It’s Snuggs here; I’ll be directing you from here. Talk to me through your mic.”
The agent looks down to see a mic on her chin.
“Bloody hell Snuggs! That damn thing nearly scared me to death! Look at the size of it!”
“How’s it going?”
“I managed to get past the fence and I’m now setting up the safety ar…is this all you gave me? I thought the SR agent would get a better landing than this.”
“No time for chat, he should be coming your way any time now.”
“Ok, just one more question, who is he?”
And with that, the SR operative comes raining out of the sky, not giving the agent time to set up the safety zone. It’s Sniper. He landed head first, and the agent tries to pull him out and eventually does so.
“Can you hear me?”
“That’s right Cindy, it’s 4 minutes past the hour and here’s the Buckingham’s with ‘Kind of a drag’.”, Sniper announces, obviously discombobulated from the 10,000-foot drop.
“Sniper!? WAKE UP!”
“Hey, how do you know my na…” , and Sniper dies a slow and horrible death.
“WAKE UP DAMN YOU!” and with that, Sniper’s eyes widen.
“Well…if that’s your attitude, forget it…” and Sniper dies for the 9th time. The agent shrugs her shoulders and begins searching Sniper for valuables.
“Can you hear me? What happened?”, asks Snuggs.
“Well, Sniper…missed the target, sir, but he does have some nice biscuits in his bag.”
“This is no time to enjoy a biscuit!”
“Hey, I never said they tasted good, they’re Nice Biscuits! Jeez, some people…”
“Look, keep up with the mission and find them and take Sniper with you, if he isn’t hurt too badly.”
“But sir, Sniper’s de…”
“Just do it!” and they are Schroeder’s final words before the transmission cuts off. After finishing three Nice Biscuits, 7 jelly donuts, 27 small iced rings and 1 roast chicken, she got to work.
----------------------------
Whilst she was snacking out, Stryke and Strafex sat in the back of the lorry. They were shoved out by the gay guard and frog-marched to one of the empty cells.
“Get in!”, shouted the guard.
“No!”, proclaimed Stryke.
“Don’t make me get the hose, you beardy bastad!”
“Ok, ok.”, and so they walk in, the guard smacking them on their hinds as they do so. It was evident now…he was gay.
“Stryke, look at this!”
“What?” he says as he opens up the back hatch of the lorry and peers out.
“Look! Someone’s murdered Sniper!”
“Sniper’s here? He came here to help?”
“Yes!”
“Oh well. I’m gonna miss ‘em…”
“Don’t you see? That woman in black murdered Sniper! She must be one of their operatives.”
“Well look what I discovered, all it takes is for us to pull back this curtain and jump out of the van and we can get home!”
“But look!”, points Strafex, to a placard on the van, which reads ‘No stairway to heaven’.
“Denied!”
“We’re expecting our expert agent soon.”, proclaimed Schroeder.
“What are her qualifications?”, asks Snuggs.
“She’s trained 3 years in the bomb squad and has participated in 700 VR missions.”
“Great, she sounds well-trained for the job at hand.”
“I never said she passed them…”, Schroeder whispers to himself.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Is there anything I can do for you? Fluff your pillow? Entertain you with some Chippendale dancers? Anything at all?”
“Get this damn freak show outta here!”
“Alright…Ok fluffy, time to pack it up”, and with that, signals a dog cry slightly lower than the frequency of which humans can’t here. In lamens terms, it hurt them. A lot. Schroeder unpacks a suitcase and begins loading the freaks into it, all of them surprisingly fitting. At that moment, everyone turns their attention to the door.
“Here comes our special agent now”, proclaims Snuggs.
“Why the hell is everything in slow motion? And where is that cheesy music coming from?” And with that, the obligatory serenade ceases to exist, and the agent enters the mix.
“Here’s out top agent, who has no name. There is a lot of ‘mystique’ around her, though. She is a superstitious woman who leaves lucky charms at the body of every victim he executes. I can bet there’s a lot of people who’d like to get their hands on that piece of evidence…like E-Bay…”, claims Schroeder.
“Yeah, they’re always after me lucky charms!”, the agent announces, causing the entire room to burst into laughter.
“What? They’re always after ‘em!”
“We’ll save you the trouble by not explaining it. Look, here are your mission objectives. Stryke and Strafex are being held in France. You must infiltrate the base and set up a safety area, in which one of our own Special Reserve members will parachute down to, and aid you for the rest of the mission. Once the safety area is set up, wait for him to come and then infiltrate the prison, which they are being held. You will recognise them by these pictures. SR is counting on you. Good luck!”, adds Snuggs.
The agent begins walking towards the door to leave for the mission.
“Wait! You must collect your belongings first. Please come to the front desk and collect them.”
The agent walks towards the desk.
“Hello…whatever your name is. Here are your possessions: one 12-inch jelly d|ldo, one ‘educational’ book on how to break out of prison and a Swedish made p@nis enlarger pump.”, adds Loki, who is the desk clerk.
“What, that’s not mine! I mean it, it’s *really* not mine!”
“One credit card receipt for Swedish made p@nis enlarger.”
“There must be some mistake.”
“And a book: Swedish made p@nis enlargers and me.”
“Ok, to get things moving, just gimme the damn stuff.”, and with that, the agent leaves for France.
-------------------------
*EXACTLY FRANCE*
The agent arrives at the hold, but like a midget in a urinal, she’d have to stay on their toes. As fate would have its way, a fence stands between her and the safety zone for the SR operative. She’d have to cut her way through it, so she whips out her wire cutters and begins cutting. Being a comedy, the fence (which read Est. 1897) simply fell over with a faint nudge. The agent opens her bag and begins setting up the safety area for the SR agent to crash land onto. A ringing noise sounds in her ear and a speech begins.
“Hello? Is it you? It’s Snuggs here; I’ll be directing you from here. Talk to me through your mic.”
The agent looks down to see a mic on her chin.
“Bloody hell Snuggs! That damn thing nearly scared me to death! Look at the size of it!”
“How’s it going?”
“I managed to get past the fence and I’m now setting up the safety ar…is this all you gave me? I thought the SR agent would get a better landing than this.”
“No time for chat, he should be coming your way any time now.”
“Ok, just one more question, who is he?”
And with that, the SR operative comes raining out of the sky, not giving the agent time to set up the safety zone. It’s Sniper. He landed head first, and the agent tries to pull him out and eventually does so.
“Can you hear me?”
“That’s right Cindy, it’s 4 minutes past the hour and here’s the Buckingham’s with ‘Kind of a drag’.”, Sniper announces, obviously discombobulated from the 10,000-foot drop.
“Sniper!? WAKE UP!”
“Hey, how do you know my na…” , and Sniper dies a slow and horrible death.
“WAKE UP DAMN YOU!” and with that, Sniper’s eyes widen.
“Well…if that’s your attitude, forget it…” and Sniper dies for the 9th time. The agent shrugs her shoulders and begins searching Sniper for valuables.
“Can you hear me? What happened?”, asks Snuggs.
“Well, Sniper…missed the target, sir, but he does have some nice biscuits in his bag.”
“This is no time to enjoy a biscuit!”
“Hey, I never said they tasted good, they’re Nice Biscuits! Jeez, some people…”
“Look, keep up with the mission and find them and take Sniper with you, if he isn’t hurt too badly.”
“But sir, Sniper’s de…”
“Just do it!” and they are Schroeder’s final words before the transmission cuts off. After finishing three Nice Biscuits, 7 jelly donuts, 27 small iced rings and 1 roast chicken, she got to work.
----------------------------
Whilst she was snacking out, Stryke and Strafex sat in the back of the lorry. They were shoved out by the gay guard and frog-marched to one of the empty cells.
“Get in!”, shouted the guard.
“No!”, proclaimed Stryke.
“Don’t make me get the hose, you beardy bastad!”
“Ok, ok.”, and so they walk in, the guard smacking them on their hinds as they do so. It was evident now…he was gay.
“Stryke, look at this!”
“What?” he says as he opens up the back hatch of the lorry and peers out.
“Look! Someone’s murdered Sniper!”
“Sniper’s here? He came here to help?”
“Yes!”
“Oh well. I’m gonna miss ‘em…”
“Don’t you see? That woman in black murdered Sniper! She must be one of their operatives.”
“Well look what I discovered, all it takes is for us to pull back this curtain and jump out of the van and we can get home!”
“But look!”, points Strafex, to a placard on the van, which reads ‘No stairway to heaven’.
“Denied!”
Stryke and Strafex were being escorted through the shocking pink walls.
"You know, teal would have given a much better effect with the harsah lighting you have here. The shadows aren't just right." said Strafex.
"You think?" said the burly cult member, who was probably gay. "I suggested teal!"
Strafex giggled. "Really? Oh, that would be the sweetest colour! And is that a water feature I hear?"
Stryke looked at the cult leader. Then back at the two interior design freaks. Then he sighed. Srafex noticed Stryke looking.
"Oh, er, I mean I'll never tell you anything! I'm not gay."
"Good." said Stryke. "Neither am I."
"Then it's sorted."
"It's sorted."
When Stryke looked away, Strafex whispered "If you subdue the lighting, you could create an al fresco effect."
"QUIET!" bellowed the cult leader.
"Why don't you have a name?" inquired Stryke.
"Because it adds to the mystery. DOubtless later I shall be revealed to be a well-respected FOG member, perhaps even a member of team hunting us. Or I could just be Shaneo."
"Are you?" asked Strafex.
"No."
"If we guess, will you tell us?"
"No."
"Are you Maggie Thatcher."
"What?! No."
Then the cult members shoved Stryke and Strafex head-first into the back of a lorry.
"Ow! That HURT! And I've gone and broken a nail!" said Strafex.
"HAHAHAHAHAH! Die evil pigdogs! For YOU SHALL FACE YOUR WORST FEARS!" bellowed the cult leader.
"Yeah, we know, France."
"NO! IN THIS LORRY, YOU SHALL BE FORCED TO LISTEN TO....DANCE MUSIC!"
He slammed the door shut as Stryke and Strafex screamed again.
"You know, teal would have given a much better effect with the harsah lighting you have here. The shadows aren't just right." said Strafex.
"You think?" said the burly cult member, who was probably gay. "I suggested teal!"
Strafex giggled. "Really? Oh, that would be the sweetest colour! And is that a water feature I hear?"
Stryke looked at the cult leader. Then back at the two interior design freaks. Then he sighed. Srafex noticed Stryke looking.
"Oh, er, I mean I'll never tell you anything! I'm not gay."
"Good." said Stryke. "Neither am I."
"Then it's sorted."
"It's sorted."
When Stryke looked away, Strafex whispered "If you subdue the lighting, you could create an al fresco effect."
"QUIET!" bellowed the cult leader.
"Why don't you have a name?" inquired Stryke.
"Because it adds to the mystery. DOubtless later I shall be revealed to be a well-respected FOG member, perhaps even a member of team hunting us. Or I could just be Shaneo."
"Are you?" asked Strafex.
"No."
"If we guess, will you tell us?"
"No."
"Are you Maggie Thatcher."
"What?! No."
Then the cult members shoved Stryke and Strafex head-first into the back of a lorry.
"Ow! That HURT! And I've gone and broken a nail!" said Strafex.
"HAHAHAHAHAH! Die evil pigdogs! For YOU SHALL FACE YOUR WORST FEARS!" bellowed the cult leader.
"Yeah, we know, France."
"NO! IN THIS LORRY, YOU SHALL BE FORCED TO LISTEN TO....DANCE MUSIC!"
He slammed the door shut as Stryke and Strafex screamed again.
"So RM18," Grix said, taking a sip from his glass of Apple Tango, "how's your partner?"
"Oh, Gary's fine," RM18 replied, cleaning some plates.
"Ah, good, good. Anyway, we need your help, and I'll put it bluntly. You used to be a member of the anti-gaming cult that's running wild now, didn't you?"
"A junior member. I only had to pay half-price but didn't get all the privileges, or the free gift."
"Yeah, I know...so you wouldn't happen to know where they'd keep any captives, would you?"
RM18 dropped a glass on the floor and it shattered into many pieces. He kicked them underneath a table, and said, "no, but I do know how you can find out."
He wrote an address on a beermat, and handed it to Grix. "This is where the leader of the cult resides. It's very secluded which is why no one apart from members knows where it is, so make sure you don't get lost. It's quite well guarded, there's even the odd security camera, but you should be okay. It's up to you how to find out where...?"
"Stryke and Strafex."
"Stryke and Strafex are being held."
They shook hands, and Grix thanked him for his time.
Grix pulled Ant off Meka's back, and literally dragged him outside. Meka slowly stood, dusted himself off, smiled a very white smile and sauntered after them.
"Oh, Gary's fine," RM18 replied, cleaning some plates.
"Ah, good, good. Anyway, we need your help, and I'll put it bluntly. You used to be a member of the anti-gaming cult that's running wild now, didn't you?"
"A junior member. I only had to pay half-price but didn't get all the privileges, or the free gift."
"Yeah, I know...so you wouldn't happen to know where they'd keep any captives, would you?"
RM18 dropped a glass on the floor and it shattered into many pieces. He kicked them underneath a table, and said, "no, but I do know how you can find out."
He wrote an address on a beermat, and handed it to Grix. "This is where the leader of the cult resides. It's very secluded which is why no one apart from members knows where it is, so make sure you don't get lost. It's quite well guarded, there's even the odd security camera, but you should be okay. It's up to you how to find out where...?"
"Stryke and Strafex."
"Stryke and Strafex are being held."
They shook hands, and Grix thanked him for his time.
Grix pulled Ant off Meka's back, and literally dragged him outside. Meka slowly stood, dusted himself off, smiled a very white smile and sauntered after them.
"1..2...3...Aha! Damn, you win, again."
"Stryke, you really don't get this game. The object is to change your plan constantly, so as to win more often." said Strafex wearily.
Stryke looked down as his clenched fist.
"But it's ROCK! Strong, hard, good. It would esily deck your Paper."
"No, if you never change from rock, I'm always going to beat you."
Stryke considered this.
"It's a silly game anyway, seeing as we're in this pitch black cell and can't even see what we're doing. Yup, thats my knee."
"Oh. Sorry." said Strafex, quickly withdrawing his hand. "So, what shall we do?"
"I intend a intensive program of fear, followed by a relaxing course of yelling for help."
"Idiot."
"Only officially."
The door was suddenly kicked open with some force. Forcibly, you understand.
"Grix!" cried Strafex.
"Mother!" cried Stryke. Strafex looked at him. Stryke shrugged.
It was the cult leader.
"You're being moved. Your friends are too near."
"What if we refuse to go?" said Strafex bravely.
"Then I'll shoot you."
"Excellent." said Stryke. "We refuse to go, you shoot him, and I'm all fine."
"I'll shoot you too."
"I'm coming."
They emerged into stark light, blinking at the change from pitch black to wall-to-wall pink.
"Wow, you guys certainly take camp seriously." commented Strafex, which earned him a club over the head with the barrel of a gun. Cult members surrounded them. "Yeah yeah, I'm going. To where, incidentally?"
"Your very worst fear, Fog boys." growled a burly cult member, who was probably secretly gay.
"Jesus! Not...Grimsby?"
"No, not Grimsby."
"Thank god." sighed Strafex.
"FRANCE!" proclaimed the cult leader, with a sadistic flourish.
Strafex and Stryke's screams went on for hours.
"Stryke, you really don't get this game. The object is to change your plan constantly, so as to win more often." said Strafex wearily.
Stryke looked down as his clenched fist.
"But it's ROCK! Strong, hard, good. It would esily deck your Paper."
"No, if you never change from rock, I'm always going to beat you."
Stryke considered this.
"It's a silly game anyway, seeing as we're in this pitch black cell and can't even see what we're doing. Yup, thats my knee."
"Oh. Sorry." said Strafex, quickly withdrawing his hand. "So, what shall we do?"
"I intend a intensive program of fear, followed by a relaxing course of yelling for help."
"Idiot."
"Only officially."
The door was suddenly kicked open with some force. Forcibly, you understand.
"Grix!" cried Strafex.
"Mother!" cried Stryke. Strafex looked at him. Stryke shrugged.
It was the cult leader.
"You're being moved. Your friends are too near."
"What if we refuse to go?" said Strafex bravely.
"Then I'll shoot you."
"Excellent." said Stryke. "We refuse to go, you shoot him, and I'm all fine."
"I'll shoot you too."
"I'm coming."
They emerged into stark light, blinking at the change from pitch black to wall-to-wall pink.
"Wow, you guys certainly take camp seriously." commented Strafex, which earned him a club over the head with the barrel of a gun. Cult members surrounded them. "Yeah yeah, I'm going. To where, incidentally?"
"Your very worst fear, Fog boys." growled a burly cult member, who was probably secretly gay.
"Jesus! Not...Grimsby?"
"No, not Grimsby."
"Thank god." sighed Strafex.
"FRANCE!" proclaimed the cult leader, with a sadistic flourish.
Strafex and Stryke's screams went on for hours.
"Meka...I like the briefs," Grix commented, his eyebrows raised.
"I know," Meka smiled, "I think they bring out the red in my lips."
Ant examined Meka's mouth closely, before looking down at his briefs again. "You're right, you know..."
"Anyway," Grix said, turning back as he realised he had driven through a field, "I know someone who I think can help us."
"erm, Grix? Sniper's being attacked by a grizzly bear," Ant said, looking out of the Grixmobile to his right.
"Oh, that's nice. Say hi to him for me."
Blood spattered over the boot as Ant called back, "Grix says hi!"
They continued on through the field, where they saw many things such as grass snakes, wasps nests and a farmer with a pitchfork chasing them and crying out something about his property.
"Anyway Grix, who is this person you know?"
Grix tapped his nose, "just call him RM18."
They drove on in silence, wondering deeply about what the next few days would be like. Grix hoped that along the way he could save a beautiful woman who was also being held captive by the anti-gaming cult...as long as it wasn't Mystique. In fact, it would be a good thing if the cult took her.
Meka hoped for more action (once again, not with Mystique), and Ant for no apparent reason was thinking about turtles.
After another hour or so, Grix stopped outside a bar named "Joe's Tavern."
"Great, I really need a drink," Meka said, hopping out of the car in just his briefs and now a bow-tie as well, deciding that he needed to smarten himself up a little.
"Although that's reason enough to stop, RM18 also works for Joe. I just need a quick word with him, and then we should be off again."
"I know," Meka smiled, "I think they bring out the red in my lips."
Ant examined Meka's mouth closely, before looking down at his briefs again. "You're right, you know..."
"Anyway," Grix said, turning back as he realised he had driven through a field, "I know someone who I think can help us."
"erm, Grix? Sniper's being attacked by a grizzly bear," Ant said, looking out of the Grixmobile to his right.
"Oh, that's nice. Say hi to him for me."
Blood spattered over the boot as Ant called back, "Grix says hi!"
They continued on through the field, where they saw many things such as grass snakes, wasps nests and a farmer with a pitchfork chasing them and crying out something about his property.
"Anyway Grix, who is this person you know?"
Grix tapped his nose, "just call him RM18."
They drove on in silence, wondering deeply about what the next few days would be like. Grix hoped that along the way he could save a beautiful woman who was also being held captive by the anti-gaming cult...as long as it wasn't Mystique. In fact, it would be a good thing if the cult took her.
Meka hoped for more action (once again, not with Mystique), and Ant for no apparent reason was thinking about turtles.
After another hour or so, Grix stopped outside a bar named "Joe's Tavern."
"Great, I really need a drink," Meka said, hopping out of the car in just his briefs and now a bow-tie as well, deciding that he needed to smarten himself up a little.
"Although that's reason enough to stop, RM18 also works for Joe. I just need a quick word with him, and then we should be off again."
FM, Afro, PB, Shocky and Bonus were sitting in the sewer.
They'd chased the brickthrower down the manhole, only to go the opposite direction. They'd travelled over a ile, the sludge up to their knees before they'd realised what they'd done.
"So what do we do now?"
"That pesky Anti-Gamer seems to have escaped. Shall we just try and catch up with Grix, Meka and Ant and try to rescue Stryke and Strafex?"
"Nah, they took the Grix mobile. Seeing as they've been done for 3 hours, they must be about 10 miles away by now!"
"There must be SOMETHING we can do."
FM snapped his finger.
"We could always go and look for that Mega Drive cartrige."
PB stood up. "Yeah! That game was mine until Grix went and got trapped in it and I had to give it up to be looked after by some agency or something!"
"Where do you suppose you start then?"
Shocktrooper was feeling rather bitter. He'd carried the bulky AR34 all this way only to find that he had nothing to shoot. His enthusiasm had somewhat faded a bit.
"We could always find out who had it last."
FM pulled out his mobile. "One quick call to SR..."
And he pressed the call button with a **CLICK**
They'd chased the brickthrower down the manhole, only to go the opposite direction. They'd travelled over a ile, the sludge up to their knees before they'd realised what they'd done.
"So what do we do now?"
"That pesky Anti-Gamer seems to have escaped. Shall we just try and catch up with Grix, Meka and Ant and try to rescue Stryke and Strafex?"
"Nah, they took the Grix mobile. Seeing as they've been done for 3 hours, they must be about 10 miles away by now!"
"There must be SOMETHING we can do."
FM snapped his finger.
"We could always go and look for that Mega Drive cartrige."
PB stood up. "Yeah! That game was mine until Grix went and got trapped in it and I had to give it up to be looked after by some agency or something!"
"Where do you suppose you start then?"
Shocktrooper was feeling rather bitter. He'd carried the bulky AR34 all this way only to find that he had nothing to shoot. His enthusiasm had somewhat faded a bit.
"We could always find out who had it last."
FM pulled out his mobile. "One quick call to SR..."
And he pressed the call button with a **CLICK**
The evil gang/cult/mafia/group/gathering slowly but menacingly made their way to the Grixmobile. They produced deadly weapons from their pockets; knives and parmesan cheese to be exact, their eyes locked on Grix, Ant and Meka.
"So, do you think they've seen us?" Ant asked.
Grix began to drive off. Recently, he had discovered a fun, new hobby. He liked to call people's names out and look away, so that they would be looking around aimlessly for the person who called them, sometimes for minutes! And they would have no idea who it was!
He circled the gang, and then sped off down the road before entering a small, dark alley. The gang members hadn't seen, and so were slowly walking past the alley, when Grix cried out.
"Evil anti-gaming cult members!" He the looked behind him, and began to talk to Ant about the previous night's Simpsons, which had been aired for a record 17, 896th time.
Unfortunately, because they were the only people in a Grixmobile down a small alley, the cult members guessed it was them.
"Duck," Grix said bluntly, before reversing at a high velocity out of the alley.
Their was a satisfying crack as he ran over two of the cult members, while the others scrambled out of the way. One however athletically dived into the Grixmobile, and swung his knife. He missed the passengers, but ripped one of Ant's bags of sugar.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" Ant screamed in pain, "that was the CASTER SUGAR!!" Ant swung a fist and knocked the cult member out of the car, enraged.
Grix drove around 30 yards, but then turned back and shouted, "hey, you wouldn't mind telling us where you're holding Stryke and Strafex captive, would you?"
"YOU WILL DIE, GAMER SCUM!" The leader of the cult shouted back.
"Ah well, I have an idea anyway," Grix said pointedly, and continued on.
He looked back to check on his companions, and found Ant nursing his caster sugar and Meka sitting in just his briefs.
"So, do you think they've seen us?" Ant asked.
Grix began to drive off. Recently, he had discovered a fun, new hobby. He liked to call people's names out and look away, so that they would be looking around aimlessly for the person who called them, sometimes for minutes! And they would have no idea who it was!
He circled the gang, and then sped off down the road before entering a small, dark alley. The gang members hadn't seen, and so were slowly walking past the alley, when Grix cried out.
"Evil anti-gaming cult members!" He the looked behind him, and began to talk to Ant about the previous night's Simpsons, which had been aired for a record 17, 896th time.
Unfortunately, because they were the only people in a Grixmobile down a small alley, the cult members guessed it was them.
"Duck," Grix said bluntly, before reversing at a high velocity out of the alley.
Their was a satisfying crack as he ran over two of the cult members, while the others scrambled out of the way. One however athletically dived into the Grixmobile, and swung his knife. He missed the passengers, but ripped one of Ant's bags of sugar.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" Ant screamed in pain, "that was the CASTER SUGAR!!" Ant swung a fist and knocked the cult member out of the car, enraged.
Grix drove around 30 yards, but then turned back and shouted, "hey, you wouldn't mind telling us where you're holding Stryke and Strafex captive, would you?"
"YOU WILL DIE, GAMER SCUM!" The leader of the cult shouted back.
"Ah well, I have an idea anyway," Grix said pointedly, and continued on.
He looked back to check on his companions, and found Ant nursing his caster sugar and Meka sitting in just his briefs.
*A DARK ROOM SOMEWHERE*
A dark robed figure strode back and forth. In a mystical way, of course. He practically had forbidding stamped across his forehead. In fact, he did, only it was in small letters that were in no way sparkly. So it wasn't easy to read you see.
Anyway, he was forbidding. He stopped in front of two bound figures, with hoods shoved roughly over their heads. He spoke, in a deep gravelly voice that you can imagine Keyser Soze using. If he wasn't being Kevin Spacey.
"So...we finally have the great Grix Thraves."
Silence.
"Erm." said the first bound figure. "I'm not Grix. He's not either."
"I might be." said the second bound figure.
"Are you?"
"Well, no actually. But I could have been."
The first bound figure considered this.
"How, exactly, could you have been Grix?"
"Not sure."
The robed figure clapped his hands together irritably. "SILENCE! Who the hell are you then?" He reached forward and pulled off the hoods.
"Well, I'm Strafex, y'see." said the first figure. "I presume I'm here due to my love of violent games and great intelligence, coupled with a intricate knowledge of SR HQ."
"And I'm Stryke. To be honest, I've got sod all clue why I'm here. Y'see, Shocky can't tell the difference between me and Strafex, because the first three letters of our names are the same."
The cult leader scratched his chin in thought. Then he beckoned forward a minion dressed in minion-gear.
"Tell me, who did I tell you to kidnap?"
"You...told me to kidnap all the names on this list..ssssir." said the minion hesitantly.
"Those names are...?"
"Dunno."
"And why, presicely, don't you know?"
"Can't read."
The cult leader sighed. Good minions were so hard to find these days.
"You could let us go?" suggested Stryke.
"I presume you have some knowledge of SR HQ, and have played some violent games?" asked the cult leader.
Stryke considered this. If he said yes, he could be imprisioned. If he said no, he could be killed as a spare. He thought about this, and hit on the perfect answer.
"Maybe." He said confidently.
"Take them both away."
"Damn."
A dark robed figure strode back and forth. In a mystical way, of course. He practically had forbidding stamped across his forehead. In fact, he did, only it was in small letters that were in no way sparkly. So it wasn't easy to read you see.
Anyway, he was forbidding. He stopped in front of two bound figures, with hoods shoved roughly over their heads. He spoke, in a deep gravelly voice that you can imagine Keyser Soze using. If he wasn't being Kevin Spacey.
"So...we finally have the great Grix Thraves."
Silence.
"Erm." said the first bound figure. "I'm not Grix. He's not either."
"I might be." said the second bound figure.
"Are you?"
"Well, no actually. But I could have been."
The first bound figure considered this.
"How, exactly, could you have been Grix?"
"Not sure."
The robed figure clapped his hands together irritably. "SILENCE! Who the hell are you then?" He reached forward and pulled off the hoods.
"Well, I'm Strafex, y'see." said the first figure. "I presume I'm here due to my love of violent games and great intelligence, coupled with a intricate knowledge of SR HQ."
"And I'm Stryke. To be honest, I've got sod all clue why I'm here. Y'see, Shocky can't tell the difference between me and Strafex, because the first three letters of our names are the same."
The cult leader scratched his chin in thought. Then he beckoned forward a minion dressed in minion-gear.
"Tell me, who did I tell you to kidnap?"
"You...told me to kidnap all the names on this list..ssssir." said the minion hesitantly.
"Those names are...?"
"Dunno."
"And why, presicely, don't you know?"
"Can't read."
The cult leader sighed. Good minions were so hard to find these days.
"You could let us go?" suggested Stryke.
"I presume you have some knowledge of SR HQ, and have played some violent games?" asked the cult leader.
Stryke considered this. If he said yes, he could be imprisioned. If he said no, he could be killed as a spare. He thought about this, and hit on the perfect answer.
"Maybe." He said confidently.
"Take them both away."
"Damn."
FM, pb, Aliboy, Shocktrooper, Bonus and Afrojoe were sitting around a small table in the SR headquarters, still discussing what happened. They were sitting a little apart from everyone else, because the Newbies and other Regulars had started argueing over something, some had got out GBA's and had linked them up, playing each other on some game - they plainly had no idea as to what was going on.
"You know, as we're the last Notables in the room, shouldn't we do something...you know, like what Grix, Meka and Ant did? Should we go looking for and Strafex?" FM whispered to pb.
pb wasn't listening. He was staring intently at the opposite wall, obviously doing some serious thinking.
"I wonder how those cultists kidnapped 'em...nets, perhaps? Like the ones in Ape Escape?" He looked seriously at FM, who looked back, eyebrows raised.
"I doubt it" He replied, with an amused expression on his face.
"Why then? How? So many questions need answering, y'know." said pb, starting to stroke his chin. "Any suggestions, you three?" pb asked, looking at Shocky, AfroJoe and Bonus.
"Well, how about we take a look outside, y'know, just to get an idea where the brick-thrower ran off to?" said Shocky. He was gripping his AR34 very tightly. He was clearly desperate to empty some lead into some activist hide.
"Ok, we might as well do somethin'" said pb, as he got up. He lead the way outside, Shocky, FM, Bonus and Afrojoe. As they got outside, Afrojoe (whose kilt was flapping about in the wind) pointed and hurried over to a patch of dirt with footprints in it, leading away to a manhole.
"Hmm, oh come on then" said a reluctant FM. He looked over his shoulder to check if anyone was watching. He didn't think it'd be a good idea to have some enthusiastic Newbie following them, offering to help. He sprang away lightly. The rest followed, Shocky alert and watchful, pointing here and there towards the sky, eyes looking through the scope on his AR34.
They took off the manhole cover...and entered.
"You know, as we're the last Notables in the room, shouldn't we do something...you know, like what Grix, Meka and Ant did? Should we go looking for and Strafex?" FM whispered to pb.
pb wasn't listening. He was staring intently at the opposite wall, obviously doing some serious thinking.
"I wonder how those cultists kidnapped 'em...nets, perhaps? Like the ones in Ape Escape?" He looked seriously at FM, who looked back, eyebrows raised.
"I doubt it" He replied, with an amused expression on his face.
"Why then? How? So many questions need answering, y'know." said pb, starting to stroke his chin. "Any suggestions, you three?" pb asked, looking at Shocky, AfroJoe and Bonus.
"Well, how about we take a look outside, y'know, just to get an idea where the brick-thrower ran off to?" said Shocky. He was gripping his AR34 very tightly. He was clearly desperate to empty some lead into some activist hide.
"Ok, we might as well do somethin'" said pb, as he got up. He lead the way outside, Shocky, FM, Bonus and Afrojoe. As they got outside, Afrojoe (whose kilt was flapping about in the wind) pointed and hurried over to a patch of dirt with footprints in it, leading away to a manhole.
"Hmm, oh come on then" said a reluctant FM. He looked over his shoulder to check if anyone was watching. He didn't think it'd be a good idea to have some enthusiastic Newbie following them, offering to help. He sprang away lightly. The rest followed, Shocky alert and watchful, pointing here and there towards the sky, eyes looking through the scope on his AR34.
They took off the manhole cover...and entered.
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