Sunday 27 October 2002

Narrator: A freshly desegregated Sergeant Schlock, accompanied by a recently reassembled Ensign Ennesby, move up on enemy positions.

Schlock: Do you know what I like most about these solo missions?

Schlock: I don't have to wait for somebody else to holler 'open fire.'

Narrator: Or 'cease fire.'

Narrator: Or 'Aaugh! Sergeant, collateral damage!' for that matter.

Ennesby: I outrank you. I could holler 'open fire.'

Schlock: If you get a chance, it'll only be because you saw the enemy first.

Narrator: Meanwhile, in the enemy-held fire control room. . .

Ob'enn Admiral: Lieutenant, I believe their Captain is stalling for time.

Ob'enn Lieutenant: I agree sir.

Ob'enn Admiral: No more negotiating. Fire at will.

Ob'enn Lieutenant: With pleasure, si. . .

SFX: BLAMBLAMBLAM THOOOM

Narrator: Meanwhile, just down the hall. . .

Kevyn: They've got mini-tanks on sentry duty. We're hosed.

Tagon: What was that noise?

Kevyn: Whatever it was, it's drown off the tanks. Let's go!

Kevyn: Back! Let's go back!

Tagon: Eep.

SFX: KRA-KOOOM

Kevyn: I, for one, am pleasantly surprised to still be alive.

Schlock: I'm glad I could be of service, sirs. The fire-control room is secure.

Tagon: Secure? Don't you mean gone?

Schlock: Couldn't be helped, Captain. They had tanks. I had to use breacher rounds.

Tagon: Full-auto, from the look of things.

Ennesby: You might say we came in loaded for bear.

Kevyn: No. You might say that. Don't pin your lame pun on me.