The Cantina
 

David Gervais, nice to know that our resident computer doodling expert is still alive...

That rendition is fantastic, and I love Barry, although I am a little concerned about how one gets to the carpark to the Cantina, given that there appears to be a gap between them. Usually, not a problem but given that the cantina is in orbit, I can just see our more drunken and daft or decrepit patrons (ie Mac and Raging Deadstar (provided there is a sheep out in the car park) falling to their dooms when trying to go outside and take a leak....

(as if you could comfortably take a leak with a large hungry T-Rex staring at your manhood?!)

Can we have the picture with some Fluffy Bunny Waitresses in it? and also, we need some washing lines on the arms of the cantina adorned with some of the FBW's skimpier clothing (I am going to lie down now)

Yep, sorry to say that the mass produced American beer market has been a winner for Tigg-Scoff Industries, explains alot about the American psyche - I would want to conquer the world if my beer tasted as bloody awful as Michelob and Coors and (cue spitting and wretching noises) budweiser - YUKKKKK with a capital BLURRRGHGGGGGHHHHHH

Re: The Cantina
 

Turin is feeling increasingly edgy... almost violent. First there's the smell of that black stain in the floor which everyone is politely ignoring whilst holding their noses, and now there's this talk of American beer...

<font color="green"> "Mr. Barkeep, one of those 'galactical gargle-thingies' to wash the idea of Buttweiser out of my mouth... and then a pint of your best Oatmeal Stout please, I'm hungry... Hey, is there a kitchen here?"</font>

An FBW's 6-inch spike heel sinks into a rotting floorboard behind him. With a little squeal she realizes a mongoose bit it off before she pulled it out; the swagger in her hips on her way to the back room is now accentuated by her being totally lopsided. Turin watches admiringly out of the corner of his eye until she is out of sight.

Re: The Cantina
 

El Phil is confused he has to know the answer to this question!

"What's the plural of Mongoose? Is it Mongooses, as I know it isn't Mongeese. Because these are Mongeese!"

Shows a bizzare goose-mongoose crossbred beast being kept in a portable cage.

Re: Foolish mortal, who?
 

Renegade, standing at the bar and drinking who knows what out of a peculuar looking container (similiar to a bed pan http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/image...ies/tongue.gif ) he continues to hear all that squealing and noises coming from the Wize One's table, Unable to stand not seeing the rendering of the Old One's flesh he turns to watch the spectacle. OHHHHH NNNNNNOOOOOO he yells as he googles the sight before his eyes.

There on the table, laying on its back and getting a tummy rub from the wise one is the mongoose he left behind. The poor thing is tantalized in extasy over the ministrations the Wize one is giving it. The squeals and other obnoxious noises that have been emitting, were not those of disgusting rendering and devouring of human flesh, but are those of happiness and contentment.

Unable to withstand the incredible sight, Renegade leaves the bar and heads into the Inner Sanctum to toss a few with the minions that reside there... The door closes, a gurgle is heard and then an outlandish scream rents the air, the door closes quickly, and disgusting noises are heard coming from within the inner sanctum..... http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/eek.gif

The Old one just smiles as he watches renegade enter the inner sanctum and the FBW waddling towards the bar all tilted over http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/laugh.gif He continues to massage the killer mongoose and orders his usual , bacon, eggs, hash browns, scrambled eggs, rye toast and a brewski... (and of course puts it on GT's tab (that'll teach him to stay away this long http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/image...es/biggrin.gif)

He also has all the labels on the beer behind the bar removed to reveal the true makes of the brew.. and lo and behold it appears most are from the UK or the country up north.... The wize one, sits back and chuckles at the looks on the members faces..... http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/image...es/biggrin.gif

Re: Foolish mortal, who?
 

Hmmmm, I think you lot have forgotten that the mongoose in this cantina are my minions..... read the older posts, and in particular my epic battles with that evil corporate raiding tyrant and former business partner Dogscoff and his hordes of mutant sea-beasts and ninja shrimp (taste good though with a marie rose sauce)....

The mongoose are a no-touch zone, unless some of you want to meet the infamous Byzantine Hordes of Armoured Killer Mongoose led by their heroic and devishly good looking imperator, Alexius "Growltiggius" Nicophorus Comnemus the First.... wielding his Byzantine Battle Axe of Death, the famous red hot poker hand cannon and the hellishly violent Egg Whisk of Doom...

Ooh ooh, I can hear the battle trumpets calling, the tramp of the armoured mongoose legions assembling in the kitchen, the excited chitterings of the nasty rodents as they prepare their engines of war, sharpen their swords, gnash their fangs, wheel up their squirrel and wombat crewed Greek fire cannons, moan as they recall the awful taste of biting Mac in his private regions.....

Damn, where did I put that chainmail suit and axe?

Re: Foolish mortal, who?
 

yes, see... but this one has had its dangely-bits snipped off, and its quite tame.

*puke lifts some feathers in the rear of the mongoose, and it flushes to an embarrased shade of pink*

now hand me that barrel of drunken cucumbers at the bar, its time that I conjured a new gherkin legion.

*puke seizes a large glass drum of gherkins from the counter, and pours them down his gullett. After they have been regergitated unto the floor of the cantina, the newly-bestowed-with-sentience horde of gherkins go about arming themselves with swizzle sticks and prepare to do battle*

And now for the cavalry. Give me that jar of pickled pig's feet!

Re: The beginning of BWIII!
 

Ashton walks out of the cantina, and is lifted through space and a warppoint back into the Hut.

Back to the Hut, I got repairs to do.

Re: The beginning of BWIII!
 

El Phil ponders. It's quiet, almost too quiet. Time for action! He opens the cage containing the mongeese and lets it run free, as nature never intended

"Fly my pretty! Or run along and do that thing were you stand on your rear legs staring into space. Or both"

The mongeese tries to do both and fails miserably

"Damn. Barman, triple tequila and a pint! And keep them coming."

Re: The beginning of BWIII!
 

A pair of gherkins seize the tipple-tequila before it can be delivered to El Phil. A third snatches a book a matches from a basket on the bar, and lights the volitile liquid, before catapulting the flaming glass at the unsuspecting mongoose.

The burning bird immediatly stops staring into space and lets loose an unholy cry.

Squack Havoc and Let Loose the Mongeese of War!

Re: The beginning of BWIII!
 

Okay, so its more like B&amp;G wars one... My mistake.

You can power down the wave motion guns now!

Re: That was a close one!
 

Panting heavily, Renegade leaps out from the inner sanctum, slamming the door as fast as possible behind him. The shuddering slowly ceased as his heartrate began to return to normal. Returning to the dark, cobweb ridden corner of the cantina from whence he came, Renegade prys one of the floorboards up, descending below the floor to the utter darkness below...

Re: The beginning of BWIII!
 

As an initial point El Phil, I believe the "standing on hnd legs and staring into space" maneuvre is actually carried out by meerkats, and not mongoose. They are famous for being viscious little buggers who savage poisonous snakes for a laugh!!

The poor little emasculate mongoose runs free. Fear not thinks Growltigga, we have the technology to rebuild him. The little chap is taken into the kitchen, and plugged into a mysterious looking device that has "Acne Rodent Rebuilder and Cybernetic Enhancer" written on the side.

The machine hums, a few funny smells comes out of it, and out pops the mongoose, now equipped with knackers the size of bowling balls, armoured to the teeth, clutching a serrate sword and eager to join the armoured legions of Byzantine Killer Mongoose ready to wage war on all enemies of the cantina (and including those who dont pay their tabs!). The fearsome legion of mighty knacker nibblers has a new member, eager to chomp his steely fangs on El Phil's member for that matter!

Re: Phong\'s Head Bar & Grill
 

Re: Phong\'s Head Bar & Grill
 

Bugger! Byzantine Armoured Mongeese. I need a plan EL Phil thinks desperatly. And my killer goose-mogoose hybrid is something a failure. Of course!

Rushing to the nearest mad science/evil biology lab El Phil splices together meerkats and geeses to produce the Geeskat! Training them in the ancient art of chariot riding he produces the Assyrian Armoured Geeskat charioters! Each carrying a longbow with armour piercing arrows the GeesKat charge into the Cantina to face the Byztantine Hordes!

Re: Phong\'s Head Bar & Grill
 

The Byzantine Armored Mongeese are on your side IIRC, El Phil. The Gherkin Legions were Puke's, and they are now retrofitting to Ottoman Armored Gherkins. You are in control of the Byzantine Mongeese IIRC, if GT (who created them) agrees to that.

Re: Phong\'s Head Bar & Grill
 

Oy, El Phil and Strategia, keep your mucky paws off my Legions of Armoured Byzantine Killer Mongoose, they are my army for when I need to defeat the evil hordes of sea beasties conjured up by that smelly reprobate Dogscoff, and when they go to battle, Growltigga the Great leads them to the field for the punch up.

El Phil, given that my Armoured Byzantine Killer Mongoose legions have destroyed Puke's gherkin ensemble for you, I think you need to create your own spurious army for your up and coming brawl with the Ottoman Gherkin legion....

PS can I reccomend that you go for a naval battle. I can flood the cantina if you wish. If you then create an army based on the ‘Holy League’ forces from Spain, Venice, Genoa, and the Papal States which defeated the Ottomans in the sea battle of Lepanto on 7 October 1571, you have a damn fine chance!

Anyway, my Armoured Legions of Byzantine Killer Mongoose are based on the Byzantine thematic armies of circa 1000 AD which beat the blue buggery out of them smelly thieving camel molesting Turkish swine. We are far more able to whup their hairy bottoms than the later Byzantine armies of 1071 (Battle of Manzikert) and 1453 (Fall of Constantinople).. especially with our new addition to the army - armour plated Greek fire cannon and ballista mounted battle wagons manned by the most fearsome rabid be-fanged pyschotic homocidal vicious badgers the world has ever seem - even Growltigga is scared of them!!

El Phil, Puke, the floor is yours, let's have a punch up

Re: Phong\'s Head Bar & Grill
 

Damn it I already have my spurious legions, the mighty:

Assyrian Armoured Geeskat

Truly the finest blend of geese and meerkats they are a force to be feared. Equippied with the finest in BC chariots and longbows with armour piercing arrows they should hold there own. For basing I have nicked the Assyrian Charioteers who almost conquered Eygpt and combined them with the English Longbow Yeoman would beat the French (Which is more impressive than it sounds, this was back when the French could fight)

Re: Phong\'s Head Bar &amp; Grill
 

floor is mine? how in the name of bleeding fornication am i supposed to armor a miniature pickle? im lucky enough there were swizzlesticks about to equip them with in the first place!

*Puke scribbles down a note on a bar napkin, and whistles for one of his surviving pigs-foot mounted gherkin cavalry. Impaling the note onto the gherkin's swizzlestick, puke slaps the pigs-foot on its... foot... and sends it running out the door.

*Several minutes later, a crate full of Jalapenos en Escabeche from a nearby Mexican eatery arive by courier. The gherkins, whom have just finished stitching their dead and dismembered back together, fall upon the Escabechefied Jalepenos with savage furosity, flaying them alive and ripping out their litte vegitative guts. The hides of the Jalapenos are fashioned into armored coats for the gherkins and their pickled mounts, so that anyone tempted to take a chomp at one might be in for a burning supprise*

Well, that should at least stall the enemy until I can get a more potent special delivery from the great Tesco. How to fashion this bunch of brine soaked veggies into Janissaries, im not quite sure. But while the GeesKat are reading them selves to be butchered by the Cataphractoid Mongeeses, I can send these reconstituted gherkins out to flank Stratigan in the event that he should attempt any further usurpious narativery upon them.

Until then, I'll be hideing from the spelling and grammar police.

Re: Phong\'s Head Bar & Grill
 

Strategia pulls up a chair and sits down to enjoy the coming spectacle. Noticing some gherkins approaching him, he teel them "Go tell Puke that I'm not interested in joining this fight - yet. I'll let him and Phil sort things out for themselves first before they're both commanding exhausted legions and I can come and claim victory. The gherkins return to Puke with this message, who then eyes Strategia menacingly, who stares gleefully back at him.

Re: Phong\'s Head Bar & Grill
 

Right that does it!

Phil orders his legions of Meerese, the sad byproducts of Meerkat/Geese breeding, to attack Strategia.

Whilst not as good as Geeskats they will easily defeat a man who has no army of genetically modified/defiled beasts who will fight and die at his command!

Yes the Meerese, with their specially sharpened pointy sticks coated in a poison brewed from Polar Bear liver and Puffer fish, will easily finish of Straegia!

Re: Foolish mortal, who?
 

Strategia dashes for the door - and makes it. Panting outside, he reviews his options.

"Hmm..... didn't I have a stack of dead seagulls somewhere? And where are those salamanders I ordered?....."

Re: Foolish mortal, who?
 

Ashton loads up on food processors, arming legions of small mech-like machines with them

Soon, Puke's army shall be no more...

Re: Foolish mortal, who?
 

Damn! A potential three fronted conflict. Byzantine Killer Mongoose, Gherkin Legions and whatever Staregia can scrape together from seagulls and salamanders. Perhaps the dreaded salagulls, seagull that are impervious to fire, or seamanders, winged reptiles who can steal icecreams with deadly accuracy!

Re: Foolish mortal, who?
 

I hope he goes for the Icecream stealing option. That will save my Gherkin army from pregnat women craving pickles and icecream, since the other half of the craving will be unavailable.

Re: Phong\'s Head Bar & Grill
 

Re: Phong\'s Head Bar & Grill
 

Right you asked for it.
El Phil talks to his troops

"Assyrian Geeskat, your honour has been insulted. I know that you all shower regularly, it is up to you to avenge the insult...."

Re: Phong\'s Head Bar & Grill
 

His interest in the apparent coming melee having subsided, Turin lounges in a chair near the front of the bar, trying to look over David's shoulder as he furiously hacks away at his laptop muttering something about "I'll give you 'low poly-count', you as*h**e..."

<font color="green"> "Ow! Hey! That thing bit me! Hey someone get this... Ow! Ow! OOoowwww!" </font>

He briefly considers drawing Anglachel from it's sheath, but seeing as David hasn't saved his work in the last half-hour, and the black metal blade would surely melt his processor at this proximity he decides against it. Besides, now there are three of them on his left boot and one is on its hind legs making a dreadful honking sound and snapping at his testicles...

<font color="green"> "Hey now!" </font>

Realising drastic measures are now called for, he hops one-legged over to the air-lock, kicks the nearest five of the little bastardized honking rodents into it and quickly spaces them.... &lt;poof&gt;... pale pink mist.

They're still coming. Turin's quick but he's not that quick. He wraps his Elvish Cloak around him and leaps onto the nearest table. The Army of El_Phil mills about confusédly for a few moments and eventually gives up the attack, their opponent having become invisible.

<font color="green"> "You will feel Traitorous Death on the nape of your neck, El_Phil..." </font>he mutters to himself. <font color="green"> "I swear it." </font>

<font color="green"> "Now go away ya little Varments, I need another Oatmeal Stout." </font>

Re: Phong\'s Head Bar & Grill
 

Cue sound of Growltigga the Great, 10,000 Armoured mongeese, about 500 badgers and an assortment of highly trained woodland rodent artillerists all start singing "Why are we waiting, why are we waiting whay are we waiting for the punch up to start???"

A slow clap start across the Byzantine horde, who are happily having a picnic waiting for the Assyrian Geekat charioteer legion to lay into the jalapeno armoured frankstein-esque gherkin battalion...

Blimey, you lot are slow to kick off, when old Dogscoff was on the forums (where is he when you need him), battles always started punctually, normally with a mutated giant squid called someone Gaelic (like Niamh or Ciambhe or whatever else containing a mouthful of phlegm) ripping its way through the floor and a scream as a battalion of kung fu lobsters charged through the door... if my Byzantine legions can face that lot, Assyrian charioteers and angry dill pickles are not a problem I can assure you....

In order to kick start proceedings, Growltigga boots a football into the middle of the cantina and waits to see if the Geeskats or gherkins make a play for it, after all, even mutated weird beasties love a good game of football (sorry, soccer to all those idiots and North Americans out there)

Re: Phong\'s Head Bar & Grill
 

'TIG! How long have you been back? I never even saw you come in!

*dogscoff rushes over and gives the feline a big hig, using the opportunity to bat him forcefully over the back of the head with a phased-polaron frying pan. The resulting "SPANG!" echoes sonorously in the note of "C" through the cantina and Growltigga's skull simultaneously.

*dogscoff then calls in a cartfull of best mead to celebrate the return of the Kat. The mead is dutifully delivered by Fearghal, a 200-foot radioactive armoured battlesquid who kicks off celebrations with a bit of Irish set-dancing. Half the party-goers are immediately and gruesomely crushed into paste beneath Fearghal's monstrous flailing tentacles.

Re: Phong\'s Head Bar & Grill
 

*Dogscoff uses correction fluid to sneakily erase the letter "h" off of Turin's elvish cloak, transforming it immediately it into an elvis cloak. Any advantage of stealth is immediately lost as Turin leaps up onto his feet in the middle of the table, produces a microphone from no-where in particular and launches into an off-key rendition of "jailhouse rock". His assailants are now doubly motivated to attack him, and do so with vigour.

Re: Foolish mortal, who?
 

Re: Foolish mortal, who?
 

"Charge!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

The Assyrian GeesKat charioteers use the distraction of the seagull/salamander legions to attack the Byzantine hordes. With explosive tipped arrows flying and serrated swords hacking the battle seems finely balanced.

Then the Assyrian air support, spider monkeys carrying naplam riding gryphons bursts through one of the windows and attacks the Byzantinan left flank, seeking out the badgers, with their well known fear of prehensile tails.

Re: Foolish mortal, who?
 

RD looks on from the bar as he reads a Preacher Comic, the resulting hostilities of this war has made approaching the bar quite hazardous.

Smiling he quickly grabs the gold statue of Taz and pins up a chalkboard in it's outstretched claws. RD quickly begins writing down the Odds for battle.

"Who Will Win this battle? The Byzantine Hoardes of Growltigga the Great? The Gherkin Ottoman Legions of the Vomitious One? Or the newly arrived Armies of Assyrian Geeskat of the dastardly Moustache Twirling El_Phil? Or even the Incumbent Forces of Strategia? Place your bets!"

RD relaxes once again, feet on bar, waiting to line the Cantina's Coffers with more income. A lone flying seamander is batted towards the bar, the glowing polished bar seemingly untouched by the war (like Growltigga would allow the bar to be damaged? All that European and English High Quality Stock!) It's flight path is short lived as RD unholsters his Colt Python and splatters it inches away from the bar stools upholstery. Under the roars of battle he mutters...

"No such thing as 'Overkill', Only 'Just Enough Kill.'"

Re: The beginning of BWIII!
 

Re: The beginning of BWIII!
 

Re: The beginning of BWIII!
 

Barkeep! I'll have an extra tall glass of Amonkriean Ale please. Oh, and an extra extra long anti grav straw so that I can drink it with as little effort as possible. The pixels in my head are throbing.

The barkeep delivers the drink and I take a nice refreshing first sip,.. aaaaah that's good. I lean back in my chair and close my eyes to relax. Within a few moments I'm fast asleep with the anti grav straw hanging out of the corner of my mouth.

Cheers! http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/happy.gif

While sleeping I ponder what kinds of answers I'd get to a question like "How loud do I snore?"...

Re: The beginning of BWIII!
 

<font color="green"> "...and if you caaan't find a partner
find a woo-den chair LET'S ROCK!
ev'rybody LET'S ROCK!
ev'rybody in the old cell block,
was [GHUURK!! ] </font>

A salagull flies smack into the butt of the microphone, slamming it halfway down Turin/Elvis's throat. The dreadful crooning stops and the E.W.E. (Evil Wig of Elvis) is knocked from his head, breaking the momentary spell. Simultaneously, Turin is knocked from the table through a front window, breaking the momentary glass.

Good thing too. The attack by the vicious vermin happens so fast that they don't even realize their prey is no longer present. Being mostly mindless beasts, tortured and twisted into Strategia's warped sense of reality, they lay into each other and everything around them instead. Finally, nothing remains in the vacinity but a table leg, a half-devoured wing and the E.W.E. (which nothing would eat.)

Turin is laying in a daze in the parking lot; Barry stomps over and licks his cheek to wake him...

Re: The beginning of BWIII!
 

Recovering from Dogscoff's sneaky attack with a frying pan, Growltigga turns to the plucky Bournemouth loafer (who is currently sniggering at his successful but witless assault on the Great Kat) and tweaks both Dogscoff's nipples VERY VERY HARD INDEED. Dogscoff yelps and bends double, just in time to meet Growltigga's knee coming up the other way CRUNCH!!!! as the Scoffo reels, Growltigga puts a bucket on Dogscoff's head and whacks in with a big hammer CLAANNNGGG Dogscoff starts wobbling all over the floor, just as Growltigga does a famour Cap'n Kirk double leg flying kick POWEEEE and catapults Dogscoff into the vanguard of the Assyrian Geeskat horde, throwing them into disarray and mayhem......

Right, turning to the battle at hand. Growltigga raises the Battleaxe of Mayhem, turns to his trumpeters (warthogs with very big horns) and order a fanfare. "Cry havoc chaps, we are foully assorted, let slip the rodents of war..."..

The beleaguered front rank of the Byzantine horde form a shield wall, the second and third rank archers fire volleys into the Assyrian Geeskats as the artillery, silent till now, sprays the Geeskat horde with a flaming blast of Greek fire, large bolts and for some reason, bottles of Old Spice.... Second and Thirds legions CHARRRGGGGGGEEEEEEEE

Led by the axe wielding loony kat, the Byzantine horde smash into the decimated front rank of Geeskats, spraying gore and severed heads everywhere.... they cut through the front lines and assault the reseve. Luckily Fearghal slams his tentacles into the Geeskat right wing and flattens it, with a way forward, Growltigga turns to his first reserve line and Shouts "MAKE HASTE WARRIORS, CUT YOUR WAY TO THAT REPORBATE EL PHIL, WE MUST MAKE HASTE AS THE BADGER BRIGADE IS BUT 5 SECONDS AWAY"....

A rumbling sound is heard, the war carts of the feared badger brigade smash throuw the Geeskat lines, utterly confounding their assault beneath a hail of chittering pyschotic viscious badgers... the Geeskats are no match for the badger assault and turn to flee.......

Growltigga, ordering his trumpeters to drown out the sounds of Elvis Turambar still singing, orders one of his catapults to lop a dead Geeskat chariot at Elvis, it flies through the air, smashes on the end of the table Turambar is standing on, and hurls hiim out of the cantina through the ceiling....

YES, ELVIS HAS NOW LEFT THE BUILDING shouts the Kat as he hacks his way through the last of the Geeskats and faces the dastardly El Phil.

RIGHT YOU LITTLE SMELLY TOERAG. YOUR ARMY IS BEATEN. BEND OVER FOR YOUR PORTION OF RED HOT POKER HAND CANNON.....

In the interests of decency, the rest of this post has been censored to protect the innocent, but suffice it to say El Phil will not be sitting down for a few weeks, and will need his underpants to be left in the freezer before he can put them on!

Re: The beginning of BWIII!
 

Growltigger wakes up from his daydream to see his Byzatine hordes falling back as his badgers flee in terror from El Phil's Gryphon carried spider monkeys. With one of his flanks gone the remaining armoured moongeese are surrounded and crushed. A single word escpaes from the lips of the formerly-but-not-any-more Greak Kat

"F*cksocks"

Re: The beginning of BWIII!
 

Doh! Simultaneous posting wreaks havoc with the timeline!

http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/wink.gifTurin

(So am I out in the carpark with Barry or is my head wedged in the rafters of the cantina?)

Weeeeeeee!

Re: The beginning of BWIII!
 

Doesn't El Scoffing Pooch have about six of those?

Re: The beginning of BWIII!
 

Puke looks to the right: The Byzantine hordes have just smashed the Geeskats, and El Phil is cornered. Puke makes ready to order his Gherkin batallions in to take advantage of the opportunity (nothing like a spicy gherkin up your open rear). But puke waits to survey the rest of the field...

Puke looks to the left: The Byzantine horde lies in dissarray as airborne spidermonkeys harrass them from above and Geeskats lock them in a fierce melee. Puke consideres ordering the Gherkins to charge in and descriminate against the spidermonkey hordes. Some things are beneath the contempt of even a zombie-pickle. Still, puke waits to survey the rest of the field...

Puke looks down the center: A gargantuan sea-beast dances a happy jig to music only it can hear. The edges of a continuity paradox ripple on either side. A football lays neglected in the middle of the room.

Puke tosses a few mineral credits to the barkeep, who marks down the wager on behalf of the Gherkins. "FORWARD!" commands the great blob of vomit, lord of brine-soaked-things-that-should-not-think-on-their-own.

The Pig's Foot cavalry leads the way, punting the socc...football down the center of the playfield, splitting the middle of the continuity paradox! The ball ricochets off the skull of El Phil, knocking him off balance and sending him crashing to the floor - earning him a temporary reprieve from the Red-Hot-Poker cannon.

The Still on an odd-angle trajectory off of El Phil's head, the ball bounces out of that plot line into the left side of the battle, where several Gherkins have vaulted off of their swizzlesticks to deliver a sound and simultanious flying scissor kick to the ball. It whaps into the side of a gryphin, and in an explosion of feathers its spider-monkey cargo is sent cascading about the battlefield to be trampled underfoot by other rampaging combattants.

An ambitious Geeskat momentarily takes controll of the ball, but a Jalepeno suited gherkin leaps herically into the maw of the beast. choaking on the pepper-coated regergitated pickle, the poor Geeskat is caught in its side by a Mongoose, who wastes no time in disembowling it. The Pig's foot cavalry circles round to make contest for the play, and easily they weave un-noticed between the ankles of the larger mongeese and geeskats.

A pair of pigs feet pass the ball between each other, gracefully keeping it away from the warriors on either side of the continuity paradox. They kick the ball back to their Gherkin commrades, but Fearghal, the 200-foot radioactive armoured battlesquid, has swept away a large swath of the bepeppered pickles, and is happily munching on them. The ball careens towards Strategia's Seamander/Salagull horde.

But all attention is on the game, now. The victorious Byzantine Mongees from the Right Hand Continuity charge after the ball. The victorious Geeskats and their surviving spidermonkey brothers from the Left Hand Continuithy charge after the ball. From the center, a horde of galloping pigs feet are ridden by swizzlestick wielding gherkins, and are pursued by a hungry battlesquid whom has just developed a taste for them.

All these terrible forces converge on the ball, which is now sitting in the middle of Strategan's army. "Oh [censored]," he thinks to himself, "So much for waiting on the sidelines".

Re: Phong\'s Head Bar & Grill
 

[i]Strategia gathers up his remaining Seamander and Salagull forces and orders them to fall back and regroup. More warrioirs are coming down in transport pods as the legions get back in formation.

Eventually, when the forces have recuperated and are back to full strength, Strategia orders them into the breach again. Under heavy fire from Greek fire cannons and Assyrian GeesKat charioteers, they nevertheless charge on. Soon, the front lines of the rapidly moving GeesKat charioteers are broken, the chariots scattered, surrounded by fierce hordes of Salagulls, while the Seamanders fly overhead and make hit-and-run dive bombing swoops on the Greek fire cannons.

The GeesKats fall back, leaving the pretty scattered Salagull front line open to attack by the powerful Byzantine Mongeese armies. The fighting is fierce, as casualties rise faster than RD can keep track of. The Salagull ground-pounders are nearly driven into retreat, when the Seamanders swoop on the Mongeese in the rear of the front lines. Having destroyed over half of GT's artillery, they are now pretty much free to attack the weaker behind of the front lines, quickly scattering the Mongeese into a semi-panicked disarray.

Then, however, both of the Salagull flanks are suddenly under fierce attack by hordes of badger cavalry. The unprepared flanks quickly burst, allowing the badgers to scatter the once-mighty Salagull forces, the Seamanders powerless against them for fear of striking their ground-pounding comrades.....

Re: The beginning of BWIII!
 

Agent Zero strolls into the Bar, as per usual tripping over the step and banging his head on the 'Mind The Step' sign. After gruesomely disposing of the cartoon birdies swirling around his head, he looks across the Bar to where his ice cold pint of Guiness awaits. And between AZ and his pint are the legions of battling mutant critters.

"Sigh. Why is the place always packed whenever I want a quiet pint?"

Not bothering to wait for an answer to his question, Agent Zero whips out the twin swords he shamelessly ripped off of Bloodrayne, and hurls himself into the fray. 3 minutes and 14 seconds later he is at the Bar with his pint. GrowlTigga's, El Phil's and Strategia's former armies lie behind him, uniformly reduced to a quivering mass of intestines.

And so, children, the moral of this story is: Never get between an Irishman and his pint.

Re: The beginning of BWIII!
 

The food-processing robots quickly zoom in, clean up the mess, then zoom back out.

My work is done.

Re: Foolish mortal, who?
 

Re: The beginning of BWIII!
 

Re: Foolish mortal, who?
 

A lone pig's foot kicks the neglected football, and it sails through the open door of the cantina.

As Barry leans over to devour the dazed Ashton, the ball lands sqarely in his open maw. *gulp*

"GOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAL!!!!!!!!!"

The food processors have mostly cleaned up the spilt intestines and re-dismembered piclkes from the floor. A FBW brings puke another spaten, and the barkeep cashes puke out on his wager.

In celebration, puke buys a round for the house, and one for each of the battlesquid's arms.

Re: Phong\'s Head Bar & Grill
 

Re: Phong\'s Head Bar & Grill
 

Ashton dusts himself off, and quickly gets back inside the B&amp;G.

Someone needs to feed the valet.