[Raging Deadstar]

Originally posted by Growltigger:
GT is slightly put off when the cumbrian farmers charge toward the fray. Thinking quickly, he turns to them and says "Lads, what are you doing here? there is a barn dance going on in Carlisle and all your female cousins are there, and they are all about 14 years old". Where once was a crowd of angry Cumbrian farmers, now all that can be seen is a puff of dust and a streak of something moving rapidly up the M6.

Y'know, i wish i could deny that comment, but the more i look around this city the more i agree Although i always seen the farmers as more sheep people

"Gods own earth? are you sure, England is known for football hooligans, kebabs and Essex Girls.... God really does have a funny sense of humour... And Canterbury.... oooh boy we have a Southerner Here"

*RD Whilst being choked, throtled and mangled manages a smile.*

"Does Mrs GT know about the huge expenses you pay for this army"

*RD then quickly grabs GT's Red Hot Poker Cannon and fires it straight through GT's foot. Growltigger tries to remain composed, tears welling and bottom lip bitten. RD scrambles away and then grabs his broadsword lying amongst the carnage.*

"Come on Ye Olde Southerner. Any Closer to France and you would have been born with a beret! I spit upon your pathetic, and rather expensive, attempts to defeat us!"

EDIT: Glad to know I can enjoy my promotion to captain before i'm dismantled, dismembered, decombobulated and anything else.

[ April 27, 2004, 14:06: Message edited by: Raging Deadstar ]