Posted on 10/28/2011 6:16:08 PM PDT by anotherBarbarian
Edited on 10/28/2011 6:36:31 PM PDT by Admin Moderator. [history]
Dear RedState.com (cross-posted),
Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Ryan Larsen. I’m a truth lover, chess player and avid political junkie. I co-founded....
OK, here is the point where the mods step in... Originally this Pro-Romney troll went on for about twenty thousand words about how wonderful Romney is and how everyone else sucks. You get the picture. He wrote it to our friends at RedState but posted it here. I take it, probably because he met the same fate there as he just did here. We the mods will save you from all that boredom and just allow you to point and laugh. Carry on.
Nah, never happened ... ;-).
Besides, maybe it's just indigestion, and she'll go to Camp Lejeune instead.
Should that happen get pictures as I am sure that a lot of people would pay to see that.
Yes, indigestion.
Lejeune is a much nicer destination I am told, but my sources were stationed there and thus may have a bias in favor of the place.
My unit goes to Ashcanistan next year in November.
“Did someone hear an Oompa-Loompa scream before that splash and thump?”
Yes, that would be nice to get some pics of.
She could make a fortune and retire to become a travel writer, like P.J. O’Rourke. Only better-looking.
Anoreth, Travel Writer.
Does have a ring to it.
She has an aptitude for observation and absurdity. Who else wanders the streets of Singapore with a pangolin?
A guy walking around Wingdale NY with a possum in one hand while chanting pirate songs?
No, I wouldn’t know who that freak was.
*cough*
Never met him before.
At least it wasn’t a frozen armadillo.
Anoreth has a substantial repertoire of pirate songs.
“What do you do with a runaway sailor”?
I was carting the marsupial to a better location than the ditch I was helping to dig.
He did NOT appreciate being relocated from a nice comfy dusty ditch to a pinetree.
You’re lucky you didn’t get a deep bite and a case of rabies.
I always thought of pirates as loud swaggering singers. But the thought of pirate chants has intriguing aspects. I guess depending on where you are from would determine whether a pirate uses a Byzantium or Gregorian mode. I think I would enjoy a Phrygian mode chant because it could have a jazz feel to it.
I had on these nasty thick leather work gloves that would have been more at home in an ancient armor set somewhere.
The Possum didn’t seem to care much, he focused on the gloves.
I had more of a drunken wobble and carousing sing song lilt to it while my marsupial chrge had a somewhat frazzled hiss tint to him.
They’re mean little beasts.
That they are!
“Silash, how far into that inhibitor field can you project me?” Buaireas was pointing at the screen beside Silash, the station schematics showed the teleport inhibitor field as an overlay.
“Buaireas you may be injured, or worse, by being teleported into such a field.” even as she said it, she knew she couldn’t dissuade him.
“I have to get to their computer core as quickly as possible, I need to at least be in this set of maintenance halls.” he motioned to a set of halls one floor below the core, very deep inside the inhibitor field.
Sireenian technology was very advanced, it could get him inside the inhibitor field, but nobody knew how far before signal degradation made the action instantly suicidal.
“We will try. Please be well.” Silash acquiesced and motioned her technicians to prep the teleporter for the action.
Buaireas knew it may be a one way ticket.
But he also knew that someone was waiting for him on the other end of the trip.
And he owed them some payback.
“I’m ready, eldest.” He said as he stood on the pad.
“As some of your forbears would say, goodluck and Godspeed, Buaireas.” Silash motioned for the teleporter to activate.
“Track him, and keep a sensor lock on him.” she ordered.
Buaireas watched the walls disappear and change, it hurt immensely.
When the cycle was done, he stifled a scream.
The shakes began immediately.
Presently he gasped for breath and stood, walked through the pain.
He had to.
The nanites he’d purloined from Evalynn were abuzz with warnings and commentary about his abuse of their duties.
He coughed, then began to run as he was on a time limit.
He slid to a halt, and began to climb an unlabeled ladder straight to the heart of the station computer core.
He was almost to where he had to be to subvert the system, but something told him he wasn’t alone.
Oh, dear. I fear this will not end well.
Darks’ secret missions are no less dire than mine. The consequences are always cataclysmic.
Nevertheless, his agents always seem to be enjoying the mission a great deal less than mine.
Style has to include savior-faire, my man.
Maybe they need a different musical accompaniment ... perhaps some Jimmy Buffett?
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.