(54 replies, posted in Role Playing)

It was a nice night in chicago. Eric paced the floor, anxious to get his new assignment. CCP hadn't employed him in afew months, and he was busying himself with other work, but CCP paid exceedingly well.
Finally, a man with blonde hair and sunglasses entered through the sliding silver door.

"Wolfe. Been awhile."

"Not long enough, Decker. Business hasn't been booming lately, and I need another CCP check to afford my training diet."

"You are good at what you do, Wolfe. Consider this a reward for good service." Decker took a bottle of pills out of his jacket and tossed them to Wolfe.

"So, what's my mission?"

Decker revealed a folder from another pocket. "In here. The situation's too delicate to be kept on anything but paper. Be sure to burn it when you're done."

Wolfe took the folder and started reading up for the mission.

"Bring the creatures in alive, if possible. Witnesses, dead, please. And no more witnesses to killing the first witnesses. Understand?"

"Of course."

"Good." Decker began to leave.

Wolfe read a little more of the dossier, drinking in the details of Project Cerebrus.

"Oh," Decker said, standing in the doorway. "This is a big project. I'm sure you can handle the people on your own, but the experiments will kill you alone. So you'll be meeting a containment crew to help you. Be in Alpha Labs in an hour." Then Decker turned and left.

Containment crew? Wolfe thought. Oh, right. CCS containment crew. Wolfe sat down to brief himself on the job at hand, trying to ignore the fact he wouldn't be working alone this time.


Name: Eric Wolfe
Age: 49
Occupation: Mercenary
Appearance: http://forceoperationsx.webs.com/mgs-solid-snake.jpg
(But with a gray beard and grayer hair)
Weapon: Custom pistols, but has concealed knives and explosives on his person at all times.
--Born and raised in Great Britain. Served in MI-6 until he had...a falling out...with his supervisors. He went to serve for the Navy Seals and The Red Room (A Russian spy agency)

--Former Blade Runner. After this chapter in his life ended, he became a mercenary. CCP has employed his "Services" many times. Why they have kept him alive, considering he has witnessed quite a bit, is a mystery, but they most likely haven't killed him because he is extremely useful. Once his usefulness runs out, he will most likely be put down.

--Wolfe, being 49, has CCP to thank for his being in such top physical form. After several succesful missions for them, CCP developed special stim packs that greatly increase a user's endurance and agility. They cost a pretty penny, but Wolfe can afford them.

Personality: Wolfe is as serious as they came when it comes to the mission. He will do whatever it takes to succeed, and has done his fair share of killing during his career. While Wolfe does have morals, he learned long ago that morals cause bad business in his world, so he buries his thoughts on right and wrong under a love of combat and cash. He does have a heart, but it is not easy to reach.

So, here is the basic premise of this RPG. This RPG, like all others, intends to tell a story about various characters that is engaging and fun to write, read, and be a part of.

However, this one also intends to be more overtly humorous than others. Here is the basic plot:
The year is 2046, and humanity is still essentially the same as it is in the present. The differences are:

A top secret  terrorist organization called the Super Terror Against  Relatively Big Un-evil Conglomerates that Kills Suspects is constantly attempting to kill everyone on earth. They are frequently thwarted by the heroic organization called P.I.N.G.A.S., the Protectors of Innocent Non-criminal Government And Stuff.

Mexico has been taken over by the Soviet Union. This leads to some confusing food.

France is now in the jurisdiction of Chuck Norris, while Spain is under the leadership of Adam West. These two giants are in a tenuous alliance currently.

Mutant squids are all over the place.

Jimi Hendrix was accidentally resurrected by some bored wiccan college students, and is now the President of the United States.

Mr. Coffee machines have obtained self-awareness and are now integrated into modern society.

Hannah Montana, while unfortunately still alive, has been ordered to death 57 times, and has somehow survived. After it being discovered she is in fact a homunculus for the devil, she was shipped to a secure holding facility where she cannot harm anyone except her extremely unlucky cellmates and security guards.

Other than that, it's pretty much like present day.  So moving on to the rules (most of which were shamelessly stolen from Mel):

1. You may create any character you want.  Clarify their name and species so others can follow their actions easily.

2. You can kill characters you create but you can't kill other people's characters unless they say they have been killed in battle with you.

3. You can have any weapon you want but you can only have what your character could physically carry - otherwise they wouldn't be able to move.

4. Be consistent, eg if someone says they blew up a building, don't suddenly be assaulting it.

5. If you have sustained many wounds you will have to either get medical help or eventually die.

6. Follow the storyline, sure add a few twists and turns but allow others to see where you want to go so they can help you get there.

7. Have fun.

8. Feel free to let your funny flag fly. That's the point here. Be as dry, witty, sarcastic, innuendous, self-referential, and British as you want...or just resort to "Yo Mama" and the occasional fart joke. However, please refrain from jokes that are offensive or overtly crude. Thank you. smile
The story: It's just another day in the world mentioned above, in the city of Newer York, (New York was bought in 2021 by Elvis Costello, who came into a great deal of money in 2018 when he pawned of the last oil drum in existence for 20 babillion dollars. The U.S. Government then built Newer York...which is 20 minutes outside of Memphis.

    Kirk Dunford got out of his bed in his suburban apartment and stumbled into the shower, hitting his head on the glass and falling on the floor.

"...Ow." Kirk grumbled. He staggered to his feet, put on some clothes, and walked out the door to his extremely depressing job.

"...And how does that make you feel?" Kirk said into his mouthpiece as he boredly drummed his fingers on a desk. "...well, I think you just need to talk with her before you do something like that. I'm sure she would feel terrible if you went through with this. It would ruin her life. Does that make you want to rethink this?" Kirk said to the caller. "Great." Kirk promptly hung up and dialed in his next caller.

"Suicide hotline, this is Kirk speaking, what was her name?" Kirk said, reciting the opening line he had learned as an intern.

Suddenly, there was a loud sound, like a giant subwoofer.

"...hold on for a second." Kirk said, putting his caller on hold and carelessly selecting the waiting music for the caller, accidentally selecting "Jump" by Van Halen. Kirk looked out the window to see... A MUTANT SQUID TERRORIZING THE CITY!!!!

"How the heck did a squid get into Tennessee?" Was the first thing out of a shocked Kirk's mouth. The squid, roughly the size of three school busses and Cedric the Entertainer, was busy destroying buildings in the opposite direction, so Kirk absent-mindedly resumed his call.

"I'm sorry for that mister...hello? Hello? Must've worked it out for himself..." Kirk said. Suddenly the entire building shook as the mutant squid had apparently turned around and decided to attack the building Kirk was in.

"Oh Holy--" Kirk yelled as the world seemed to go sideways, though it ironically would remain round in doing so.

Character: Kirk Dunford
Age: 29
Occupation: Suicide Hotline Operator
Weapon of Choice: Heck, he'll use what he can get.
Personality: Surly, easily annoyed, very down on his luck. Given his job, he is good at pretending to care, which may lead others on for awhile.
Description: Basically Ryan from The Office, but with a small brown goatee.
Background: Fresh out of college, Kirk was a guy who used to have dreams, you to have ambitions, the kind of guy Smells Like Teen Spirit was written for, but then he learned how tough life is in the real world, especially this world, where his mom was mauled by a mutant squid when he was 11 and his cousin is a Mr. Coffee called Brett-37. Nowadays, Kirk is basically meandering about his current life, just coasting through, waiting for something exciting to happen.

Tropic Thunder. Robert Downey jr. as a black man is unbeatable.

((Yeah, Carson pretty much summed it up. WOW.))

Mr. Haze's scout bugs were all over the mall, looking with increased franticism after Carmen teleported away, causing them to lose the target. Eventually, one bug noticed the pair of girls near a lingerie store. Unofortunately Carmen's diversion had created a mass riot, making following them near-impossible.

Leave the mall! He commanded his bugs. They're clearly leaving! Cover all the exits!

Suddenly, there was a tapping on the limousine's window.

"Um, sir..." Hogan the driver piped up.

"Hnn..." Mr.Haze slowly stirred from his trance. "What is it, Hogan?"

"There's someone tapping on the glass, I--"

"Shoo them away! Now!"

"Yes sir." Hogan shut off all the lights to the back of the limo, as was protocol, and rolled down his window and looked at the headband wearing ruffian who was tapping the window.

"Can I help you sir?"


Meanwhile, at Redeemers HQ, Burst Limit was minding his own business, apparently mourning the death of High Voltage with his "teammates", until he came upon the medbay to visit Shaylee who was healing up healing up very well. She was talking with Stone. He scooped her up and together they left the medbay.

"Scuse me, Burst." Stone said offhandedly as he exited, avoiding a collision.

What's that all about? Burst Limit wondered. He decided following them, at a reasonable distance away, was in order.

Mister Haze continued to sit in his trance like state, as his consciousness shifted to the bugs in the mall, who were searching for the Boyce girl. One unlucky bug had flown into the girls' bathroom, a very likely place for a scared young woman to hide. Unfortunately, the bug was squashed for its efforts.

"NGAH!!!" Mr. Haze cried out in pain from the seat of his limo, scrambling the senses of all his bugs as the death of one of the Hive-mind called Mr.Haze reverberated trough them.

Go to where your brother died Haze subconsciously instructed the scouts.Find who did it.

Not much later, a group of scout bugs were flitting about the ceiling of the food court, several of them catching the face of someone unexpected.

"Carmen..." mr. Haze groaned from the backseat.

((That's a cheap shot, but I guess so. :-P ))

Mister Haze's scout bugs were buzzing quietly through the mall, looking for the Boyce girl. The bugs had spread out, so only 5 or 6 were present when the man in the red cape crashed a motorbike through the main entrance. Mister Haze was relayed this information by his bugs, as their eyes were now his.

"Bloodhawk..." mister Haze muttered from his trance in the back seat of his limo.

Suddenly, there was a sharp ringing in the limo, snapping Mr. Haze out of his "coma".

"Hmm?" Mr. Haze grunted, reahcing for the source of the sound, his phone.

"Hello?" Mr.Haze said grumpily.

"It's...it's me." Came the voice of Burst Limit on the other end of the call.

"What's going on? Are the Redeemers making a move?"

"Well, yes, but not against you. They got into a fight with someone called Reaper earlier, and now High Voltage is dead, so they're all pretty focused on getting him."

"Keep me updated." Mr. Haze said, hanging up. Well at least those blasted Redeemers would be occupied for awhile. 

Mr.Haze closed his eyes once more and focused on reestablishing his link with his "scouts" in the mall.

Keep an eye on the man in the cape He instructed his bugs. If he finds the girl, eat him. But leave the Boyce child alone.

As Mister Haze's limo sat outside the mall, hoping to catch the Boyce girl as she left, he decided to make sure she was there at all, and to make sure the call from the phone booth wasn't perhaps another family member.

Haze let down his window just a smidge, and stuck his hand out the window, letting the top segment of his ring finger dissolve into a small clump of purple bugs. Mister Haze reclined in his seat, his eyes going blank as he entered a sort of trance-like state. The clump of purple bugs flew into the mall, and their eyes were now Haze's eyes. The rest of his body seemed to be out cold, as his consciousness shifted into this group of 30 or 40 bugs that quickly split up to comb the shopping mall for anyone in a Le Veux Poulet waitress outfit.

Mister Haze sat in his limousine as it followed the hero on the rooftops. Mister Haze's phone rang.

"Mister Haze, it's Marliss. The Boyce girl did go to work today."

"Uh-huh, I figured she did. Can you tap the girl's house phone, in case she calls back?"

"Sure thing, just a second..."

Mister Haze waited patiently, enjoying the smooth jazz Marliss played as he waited.

"Okay, the Boyce house phone's being tapped. They recently had one call, we can't listen to it, but I can trace it. You want me to?"

"Eh, why not. Maybe we'll be lucky."

Afew minutes more of smooth jazz later, Marliss was back on the line. "The call came from a phone booth in the mall. Sound worth checking out?"

"Damn. I can't go into the mall. Just keep me posted, alright? Oh, and send Steampunk* out the girl's house, just tell him to lurk there in case she comes back. He's good at lurking."

"Yes sir."

" 'Kay." Mister Haze hung up.


Meanwhile, at the Redeemers' scene, Jarad Romero, aka Burst Limit, watched in awe as the one called Tharus took down the ghost-like one with such ease. After the battle was over, Jarad followed the rest of the Redeemers back to HQ. Once they got there, he would have to find a quiet place to inform his boss on the day's proceedings; Mister Haze liked to keep tabs on his biggest obstacles, and the Redeemers were easily that.

New character alert! Bwoop! Bwoop!

Name: Jarad Romero
Alias: Burst Limit
Affiliation: Bad (pretending to be good)
Powers: Can remotely cause small explosions from afar, but cannot make explosions inside objects; they have to be in open air, though they can be close to solid objects. He often makes the two-finger gun, thumb-trigger motion when using his power, just for dramatic effect.
Appearance: http://www.givememyremote.com/remote/wp … -capra.jpg
Backstory: A down-on-his-luck mutant boy who's father was a criminal that got involved with Mister Haze's predecessor. When Haze took over, he made sure he got to Jarad and "convinced" him to join the Redeemers as a mole for Mister Haze. His allegiances seem to truly be in the pocket of the purple man.

*more on Steampunk when neccesary

Mister Haze sat in the back of his limo, his fingers nervously drumming on an armrest. He stared out his car window, surveying the city that required so much effort, so much attention, so much work to manage. Norton Peak was like a spoiled child, and Mister Haze intended to train it well and teach it how to act properly.

As he continued to ride, he noticed someone hopping across the rooftops, in a direct trajectory that led Haze to believe this person was coming from Le Veux Poulet.

"Hogan..." Mister Haze said to his driver. "Let's trail this fellow on the rooftops to the left. Something tells me he may be worth following..."

Mister Haze's floating bodysuit floated in the air, as did his disembodied head, cuasing him to look like some sort of purple-faced ghost as his body feasted the fallen patrons of the dining room. It was a shame, really, to kill an entire staff of waiters and chefs, but such was the cost of victory. After the criminals were stripped down to bone and blood-stained clothes, the bugs returned to Mister Haze, flying up his sleeves until they reformed his body.

Haze marched into the kitchen to make sure he still had some more snacks, and sure enough there were several bodies lying motionless on the floor. However, he noticed that one was missing, what was her name, the college student, oh yes, Amy. Haze assumed she was just out sick for the day. Lukcy girl. He let his extended family out to eat again, as they were extremely hungry little buggers, but as they finished this second course, a small flock of bugs noticed a notepad on the floor. When Mister Haze's body rematerialized, the notepad was in his hand.

"...Amy's notepad..." Mister Haze mused. The tiny feelers on the bugs in his "fingers" told him her fingerprints were fresh all over it, meaning she had indeed been there today.

Mister Haze returned to his suit in the other room and picked up his cell phone.

"Yes, Marliss? Go ahead and send the clean-up crew down to Le Veux Poulet, and remind someone to call in on Amy Boyce, she must be sick or something today, so just check and make sure she's not playing hookie or anything." Mister Haze hung up the phone and exited the restaurant. If some college girl found out about his little "party", things would not be good for anyone in Norton Peak.

Mister Haze rode in his limousine as it drove towards his dinner meeting. He wore a navy blue tuxedo, but under the suit he wore a skin-tight black surfer's bodysuit, and he also wore skintight black gloves. The only visible "skin" on his body was his neck and head.

The limo pulled in to a chintzy restaurant called Le Veux Poulet, and Mister Haze exited the vehilce and went inside. Their was a very imporant dinner meeting happening on his time and dime.

Haze entered his special back room and saw his four guests seated at the long mahoganey table. Four new up-and-comers, each with a sizable chunk of muscle in the city. They were each sitting and eating their complementary meals.

Farenheit sat on the far left, burning his steak to a crisp, since he had purposely ordered it rare so he could do so.

Next to him was Man Mountain Marcus, who was completely indestructable...on the ouside at least.

The psychic named Mad Carnelli was eating his meal without using his hands while sitting next to Marcus.

And on the far right, the elastic Stretchmark smoked calmly, having finished his meal.

Mister Haze sauntered into the room, picked up a glass, and began tapping on it with a fork.

"Ahem. Excuse me, gentlemen, but if I could have your attention..."

The four crimelords looked up, somewhat interested.

"I'm sure you're all wondering why I asked you here today. Well, the answer is, first and foremost, that I respect you guys as worthy competitors. I do. I really, truly, do. And ofr that, I applaud you.

"But, I am also a businessman, and too many competitors is bad for business. I'm sorry, but that's just how it is. This, of course, means that over time, we may bump heads with eachother if we have comflicting interests. I am completely okay with at.

"Anyway, I'm getting sidetracked. You guys know my favorite holiday? Anyone? Anyone? It's Halloween. I just LOVE getting to dress up in a funny costume and go around scaring people. Thing is, this year, I was busy Halloween night so I didn't get a chance to dress up."

Mister Haze stopped here and took off his tux, revealing the bodysuit and gloves. He also wore rubber socks to cover up his "feet". He then picked a gas mask out of a pocket in his suit before dropping it on the ground.

"Now, this," Mister Haze said, holding up the mask. "Isn't part of my suit, but it's still necessary." Haze then placed the mask over his head and tapping his fingers on the knuckles of the other hand.

"....What is that?" Stretchmark asked, bewildered.

"Ih uh ahh mahk." Haze said from under the mask.

"A what?"

Haze lifted up the mask. "It's a gas mask." He then put the mask back on.

"....ok...why are you wearing it?" Farenheit asked, beginning to sweat.

"Becuh uh thuh gah."

"What are you saying?!?"

Haze removed the mask again. "Because of the gas." He then again placed the mask over his head.

"what...what GAS?!?" Man Mountain Marcus asked, confused.

"Weh, thih gah." Haze mumbled.

Suddenly, the sprinklers in the room began emitting a strange, red cloud of gas that quickly filled the entire place. The four villains coughed and wheezed before succumbing to the cloud and falling over, lifeless.

Haze picked up a remote and pressed a button. Within seconds the sprinklers had reabsorbed the gas. He then threw his gasmask down, no longer needing it.

"Alright boys..." He said, as the air slowly filled with purple insects and high pitched buzzing. "...Dig in."

((Boy, Adeptus, you sure do love your lizard-men! ;-) ))

Mister Haze sat in his private office, his legs propped up on his desk as he lay languidly in his comfortable leather chair. A bowl of cashews lay on the table. Mister Haze leaned over to the table and picked the bowl up. He picked up a single nut, but didn't bother moving the hand to his mouth, as the nut would have never made it that far before the bugs in his fingertips had their way with his snack. Haze took a sip of water from a glass on the table, and recline, exhaling deeply.

It was then that an associate entered the door.

"Mister Haze, sir, we--we completed that errand you wanted." The croney was understandably nervous around his boss. Wouldn't you be?

"Well?" Haze asked calmly. "Did he get the message...?"

"Oh, message received sir, message definitely received."

Mister Haze smiled in satisfaction. "Good. Serves the moron right for dodging payments. Get Arysta on freezing the stiff's assets. I want my money twice as fast now that the little zit's dead."

"Yessir. Rightawaysir. Yessir." The croney hurriedly left the office and shut the door behind him.

Mister Haze reached for the phone in his office and called his receptionist.

"Marliss? It's Mister Haze. Remind me again what my dinner appointment is?"

"It, uh, it says here you've got a 'business meeting', and there's also a sticky note that says 'Halloween', What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, just an inside joke for me and my...guests at the meeting. Thanks for jogging my memory." Mister Haze then promptly hung up.

Haze swivelled in his chair to turn and face the wall to his left, where a dartboard was hung. On the dartboard were several photos of former rivals, each with a dart stuck between the eyes. However, 4 photos had no darts in them.

Haze picked up a pen and paper and scribbled "buy more darts" on it before standing up, exiting his office, and turning in for the night.

((Oh, and just to clarify, I may start calling him just plain 'Haze' for short sometimes. Also, he has no connection with Mel's character Haze from SH1 and SH2, just to make that clear. smile ))

Net-a-Fett wrote:

Ph34r I hope you don't mind us using your idea again...

((Y'know, it's funny, the other day I was thinkin' "I'd love to do another Superhero RPG, but boy would I look like a one-trick pony if I did 3 Super-rp's in a row!" I just wanna personally thank you for taking a swing at this. smile ))

Name: Toby Harkenn
Nickname: Mister Haze
Affiliation: Bad as can be (Sorry, but I love the villains )
Appearance: http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/marveldatabase/images/f/f1/Purpleman_alias.jpg (only difference is Toby wears other colored suits and often has a fedorah on his head) You can't really tell in the picture, but Toby is tall (about 6'5") and lanky.
Powers: Mister Haze's body is a living hive of carnivorous purple insects, each capable of individually skeletonizing a human being in minutes. His face is the only thing that isn't made of insects, but the rest of his body is visibly alive, which often creeps out other people. Each bug has a high degree of invulnerability, as shooting him will result in one dead, slightly dented, bug.
Personality: Haze is a sly, smooth-talking businessman, but his cool conniving act masks a cruel and bloodthirsy exterior. He has a dry, witty sense of humor also.
Background: Once a minor thug, Toby was volunteered by his super-villainous boss for a risky experiment to give other people super powers. Toby used his newfound powers to kill his former boss and take over the dead villain's considerable crime faction. He now seeks to control all of Norton Peak's criminal processions.


(112 replies, posted in Fans)

Oy, you guys just opened a Pandora's Box of music:

Guns N Roses
Def Leppard
Cheap Trick
Deep Purple
Lynyrd Skynyrd
The Eagles
The Beatles
The Rolling Stones
The Who
Black Sabbath

This concludes your classic rock history lesson for the day. big_smile

"Is this even canon?"


(11 replies, posted in Fans)

draco fett wrote:

So you'd prefer they have name like Yoshi? tongue


Well, okay, point well-made draco, but Yoshi is a big-nosed cartoon dinosaur hopped up on helium.

Ike and Marth are sword-wielding bad-arse dudes who just want to be taken seriously despite their names.

Still, you have a fairly humourous point.


(11 replies, posted in Fans)

Yeah, Marth's is effective, it's jsut not...flashy. I guess it's kinda nit-picky, but Marht's is just boom!--opponent hit, knocked off screen. When you've got other final smashes like Ike's and Ganondorf's which also nearly ensure a 1-hit KO but are alot prettier to look at.

And am I the only one who noticed that seemingly all Fire Emblem characters have very unheroic names? "Ike"? "Marth"? "Sothe"? Jeez people, hardly inspiring names, to be sure!

Anasazi and his gaggle of villains pulled into the parking lot at Harry's.

"Alright you guys hang tight I'll be out in a jiffy." Anasazi said.

"Uh, boss..." Jericho piped up.

"Huh?" Anasazi whirled around. Jericho pointed to the rips in Anasazi's suit and the exposed metal endoskeleton. "Oh...right...well, crap, can't go in now, can I? Well, Jericho, you and Alastor go in."

"Wha--?!? Why him?!?" They both asked simultaneously.

"Alastor you do the dirty work and Jericho you keep him in line and ask the right questions. You know what went down here. Find out why it's been rebuilt. Then have Alastor kill who's responsible."

"Shouldn't he..." Jericho looked at Alastor's dark purple and fairly intimidating outfit. "...I dunno...change clothes or something?"

"Ugh, man, you're on a roll today, Jer. Alastor, go mug a salvation army thrift store and come back with some normal clothes."

10 minutes later, Alastor wore a navy blur turtleneck and some tattered jeans. He also wore a baseball cap with the bill tucked down to hide his face, so all that ws visible was his nose and chin, like when he wore his helmet.

"Alright, can we go in now?"


(11 replies, posted in Fans)

Meh, Marth's lack of range attacks tend to do him in.

R.O.B. is my personal favorite. Quick and powerful moves make him the man when it comes to racking up high-damaging combos and his final smash is extra dangerous when you combine it with other attacks.

Deadliest Catch: Inside the World of Womprat Hunting

((I'm not sure you want to say 'screw you' to someone if you expect them to treat you as a friend. ;-P ))

Anasazi and his crew of villains sped through Mission City, on their way to the rebuilt Happy Harry's to settle Anasazi's anger.

"Um...Anasazi..." Terry piped up.


"Back in Andromeda HQ, you mentioned there was some guy named Alexander Uy buried in a graveyard around here. From what I figured out from you guys' dialogue, That Uy guy was Oni, and if you're Oni, then...who's..you know..."

"You really don't remember anything at all, do you, ol' pal?" Anasazi asked. "Fake bodies are some of the easiest tricks in the super-villain book. Seriously, it's nothing to be impressed by."

"Oh, okay."

When David came to, he was in a back alley, still in Singapore, with First Mate Troutman holding him upright.

"Troutman...? What's...what's going on?"

"I've got you a crew, sir." Troutman said. "Look."

David raised his head groggily and was dleighted to see no less than 50 haggard Singapore-natives, all well-armed, battle scarred, or both. His new crew.

"Gentlemen," Troutman said in the native tongue. "Say hello to your captain."

"Right, quite right." David said, shakily standing on his own two feet. "Welcome to the crew of Captain David Eccleston. Now, before we get going, just allow me to say welcome to the crew, and on my crew we have a few simple rules. One: No disloyalty or alterior motives. We're a team here, and team players do not stab eachother in the back. Rule number two: Do your job. Each one of you will have a job, I expect you to do that job, or else you will be punished. That's...that's really all the rules there are, but try to follow them to the letter.

"Now, the thing is, I actually don't have a ship, I, uh, I lost it to the Red coats." David ad libbed, sure these pirates would not trust him if they knew he had already lost control of his crew once. "So, ...ah...I've decided that tonight, we shall steal one of the Red Coats' ships from them, and, um, have some poetic justice. Who's...ah...who's with me?"

The pirates all roared in approval.

Anasazi just sort of stared at Jericho. Alastor stared too, though he was bit angrier. Terry was the definition of bewildered.

"...Uh...Jericho, please get out of my lap. I'm sure you'd agree this is a very uncomfortable position for both of us." Anasazi said to his partner, who's upper body was draped across his groin.

"...Right."Jerciho moved to the back next to Terry, nibbling on the broken chocolate bar. "...And you are?"

"Oh, that's Voi--Terry, his name's Terry. He's got some substantial money so I decided to bring him along. ...And he's also kind of Voidhunter."

"Why's he so...not shadow-y?" Jericho asked.

"Why do you people keep calling that? Who's Voidhunter?" Terry exclaimed, clearly confused by all the madness going on.

"Boy, those Andromed!#ks really did a job on you, huh?" Anasazi said to Terry. "Anyway, Jericho, you're not gonna believe it, but they rebuilt Happy Harry's."

"Wasn't that place demolished?"

"Yeah, and it was supposed to stay that way. Of all the unholy, unsacred things they could have done, they had to rebuild it. Couldn't just leave the smoking warzone alone. I mean, it would be one thing if they built something else there, like a bowling alley or a Hooter's, but to build ANOTHER bar...not even CHANGE THE NAME...we're getting to the bottom of this."