Despite the dramatic nature of Cotal/Amidala's exit, don't lose sight of a few facts closer to home. Special Forces now has the top player overall, five players in the top 25 and seven in the top 100.

C'mon, Piers, finish that brew and submit! Make us proud!

On a side note, all she needs to do to come back with full points is change her player name again, if I'm not mistaken. So tread lightly.

Rec Room

Looking out of the window, Wild Wombat saw sunlight glinting off the radar arrays as he walked down the corridor to the rec room. The Special Forces HQ was located high in a volcanic range on a planet that was hard to describe and even harder to find. The mountain fastness served one particular purpose: it was easy to defend with a small number of soldiers. Cunningly designed to lure attacking troops through small bottlenecks in the rocky peaks, each approach was covered by batteries of camouflaged laser cannon emplacements and neural disruptor minefields. The volcanic activity around the base served to confuse the scanners of the occasional inquisitive scout ship. Wombat strolled into the rec room and took in the scene.

A single gymnastic balance beam had been positioned at one end of the room. Quack and Obi Wan sat in chairs at either end of the beam, heads bowed, concentrating fiercely. A line had been drawn on the floor, half way between them. Killa Koala was poised on the balance beam, shuffling uncertainly along it...for a moment, his progress seemed to slow....he wavered...and fell, landing with a heavy thud on Obi's side of the line.

"Ha!" yelled Quack. "That's five to three, Force-boy. Looks like those midichloreans of yours are getting flabby. Your serve."

"Never underestimate the power of the Force." grinned Obi. He gestured to Killa. "You want to get back on the beam."

"I want to get back on the beam..." murmured Killa, and began to climb up and move along towards Quack's end of the balance beam.

In a corner, Jaws and Hurley were engaged in their favourite pastime - the company pinball machine. It had become something of an obsession with the two of them; marathon tournaments, competitions - they'd been known to skip meals to play. It was something about the flippers....

Wombat glanced over at Harel Eilam. The Israeli special forces operative was lethal with hand, foot and mouth -if only he didn't get the three modalities confused. Right now he was practising catching passing flies with a pair of chopsticks - something he'd read about in Hurley's copy of "Kung Pow: Way of the Penguin". Cypher and Piers were checking inventory in the cellar...but something wasn't adding up. Every time they drank, they could no longer agree on how much alcohol was left - which necessitated another trip down to the cellar to check....

The Iron Paw knew the signs. These soldiers were restless. They needed to fight.

___________________


Skowbo by night

A strip of faded wallpaper peeled lazily off the wall and floated to rest on the cheap carpet of the hotel room. The Bilious Yor was a dump in a city of dumps, but this time the shabby interior wasn't primarily the proprietor's fault. Much of the room's wallpaper had come unstuck; warped by the sustained heat and passion of their coupling. The furniture was in little better shape after their gymnastics. It was the reason they never met at the same place twice: the repair bills soon meant the landlords were no longer prepared to give them a room. Wombat stared at the ceiling, imagining all of the other places he could be.

The Marquesa de Sade rolled off him, and propped herself up on one elbow. "My, you look so...fulfilled...." she sneered. "I wonder what your soldier buddies would say if they knew you were here with me. Mind you, at least you are in decent shape - thanks to my special exercise program. You begin to bore me though, soldier boy - perhaps I would find greater pleasure with my evil companions?"

Wombat looked at her evenly. "I didn't know paedophilia had been added to your list of vices."

"Ah, gallant as always, my dear Wombat. By why then do you return to me? What draws you to me, like the moth to the flame?"

Wild Wombat watched as the Marquesa gathered her things and made her satin, silky way to the door. She glanced back over her shoulder. "Oh - and don't keep thinking about me after I'm gone."

Wombat looked out of the window at the moonlit Skowbo landscape. "I wasn't thinking about you while you were here."

Eventually, he went downstairs and left a large bonus with the hotel clerk. Wandering in to the bar, he saw a juggling show put on by a harlequin jester just finishing up. Casually, he make his way over to the entertainer and spoke in a low voice.

"The birds on Wardell fly south for the spring."

The jester glanced at him. "And the cuckoos on Palain nest in the towers of wizards."

"While the googly birds pass over the Valley of the Knights."

The jester put away his balls. "The one you seek is at Table 77. Oh - and zip up your pants."

"Thanks - and the same to you." Wild Wombat made his way to Table 77 and sat opposite an old crone, wearing a cloak and hood. "You require something...special?"

The woman turned to him. "I require the eradication of the European Union, in less than two hundred years and without twenty seven metric tons of paperwork in triplicate."

Wombat regarded her steadily. "Then you'll need to come up with metric tons of gold. In advance."

"This can be provided. We have tolerated the insufferable Euros for too long. We reject their stupid currency, their tariffs, their languages, their low-brow monarchies and their damnable paperwork. We will return to the old ways of graft and corruption. We in the...er...anyway, this lady's not for turning! Oh, and you will need to overcome their crack Swedish Guard - they protect their command bunker. Once the Euros command bunker is gone, our conventional troops can mop up."

"A Swede is a turnip by any other name. Deposit two metric tons of gold into this Altarian account and another two on completion. Once we confirm the deposit, our action will commence." Wombat slid a card across the table.

"Very well. We trust you will live up to your reputation." With that, she gathered her bag, drew the cowl of her hood over her head, and made her way quietly out of the bar.

In the chair recently vacated, a dark mist formed, almost imperceptible at first. The image gradually grew more substantial, until a man was sitting in the chair. "You heard all that?" said Wombat. black smoke nodded. "Follow her. We'll need deep recon on this mission, and you're our best bet. The location of the Euro command bunker is critical. Head back to HQ when you have the data - dont trust a courier." The figure slowly melted and became gradually hazy, until nothing remained.

______


Wild Wombat entered the rec room and looked around. The Special Forces operatives all stopped, and looked at him. "Saddle up men - we've just gained useful employment."

Are we going back to that nightclub in Paris?

Ooh... as special forces, we'll be able to bring some nice explosives. We'll be able to deal much more death and destruction than last time we visited the Euros. LOL

Yes Quack - we're going back to Paris. Pack your bags!

The tales of the agent - part 7

Or - how I wrote another story in jest, so please don't sue us

It was night. The agent's new team of heroes was inside, packing for Wombat first official mission. The agent did not show it, but he was quite excited. It seems Wombat was after the agent's old empire, which is quite enjoyable. The bureaucracy, the cavity search... well, the cavity searches weren't THAT bad.

"That was a lovely bit of Elfwine. Thank you Sauron".

"OF COURSE."

"Can you please call Koala here?"

"NATURALLY."

The agent returned to his idle practice. His chopsticks blared. No fly was around. There was nothing alive for miles around Sauron inn, something that the Dark Lord assured him was already remidied. Still, one must not let standards slip. In the very short future there are bound to be flies around the agent, and when there will be he wants to catch them with his chopstick. He wasn't sure why.

"Ah, Koala", the agent said and smiled widly as the tall furry animal entered the porch. Koala seemed to be quite shaken. The agent was not sure why. Was he still scared of him, or was it simply all the bumps in his head?

"Do sit, sit." The agent beckoned to an available chair. Koala sat, and said in a worried tone: "You are not going to try and kill me again, are you?"

"Not to worry, old son, not to worry. I don't kill people I drank elfwine with. You're safe."

"Good", Koala said, quite obiviously not believing the agent. The agent smiled inwardly.

"In fact, I have come here to show you your replacement. Now that we're on the same team, I must find another villian to hunt. So you see, you are quite off the hook."

The Koala seemed mightly relieved. "Who is he?"

The agent nodded, and activated a small holo-emitter embdeed in the table. A strange shape appeared. It was composed entirely from colored circles, with blue, green and red in the mix. It was vagualy humoniud. It seemed almost robotic, so modular it was.

"In fact, it's organic. It's the last surviving member of his species. They are all built from exactly 77 M&M candies. Now you see why I called you here.

Koala's mouth was full of droll. "Ah, choclate".

"Quite so. No one knows his name. I've called him MM77."

"So, why exactly you need my help? Go and get him."

"There, you see, it gets tricky. The MM77 species are very strong. They are protected by a natural insanity shield. It phases them so they are literally in another universe. Even my burbs simply pass throught his skin. But I know someone who can help me take care of it. Right, Q?"

"Of course, mon capitan." A strange entity appeared near the agent, startling Koala.

"Q supplies me with all the trinkets I need", the agent smiled. "What do you have for me?"

"The continiumm brings many things. Take this shoes that allow you to negate gravity, and this watch that has a mass-driver installed in this little button. Simply adjust so... and, of course, two iron balls."

"Ah, this is new! Do they explode when a sequence is pressed."

"No."

"Ah, so they emit a stealth field?"

"No, mon capitan."

"So they can transform into any material known to man and orc?"

"No."

"So what DO they do?" said the agent, quite vexed.

"They are merely iron balls."

"Why do I need iron balls?!"

"It seems you can only engage the MM77 if you have two iron balls. We are not sure why, but our intel is solid. In theory you simply hit him with them, repeatedly."

With that, the Q disappeared.

"So, Koala, now you know my new enemy. Will you help me in our quest to gain more choclate from MM77 corpose?"

Koala nodded eagerly.

"Then let's get ready. I've notified Wombat. We will join the strike force in a few days. Until then, we have candies to retrieve."


To be continued...

Back to normal around here, I see! "Koala ball" is a classic (sorry, Killa)!

But the iron balls thing...maybe THAT'S why Wombie fiddles with those ball bearings all the time. "Caine Mutiny" reference, my foot.

Actually, it is because MM77 said that I need balls to go after him. So now Q gave me my balls.

Hey guys. Wonder what happened to her and nice job on seeing all those SGT striped in the top 25; impressive.

Off topic, how about my Tigers kicking FSU around last night! Incredible game; I wish all of you could have been there with me to see it.

~SDC~

Yes, I caught that the first time. Many comments are leaping to mind here, but I'll restrain myself...
[Message Edited]

Monkson:

Good to see a fellow retired Jedi. Have one on the house.

On Cotal/Amidala, two main possibilities - she's either temporarily pulling out only to reappear with a grand entrance, or she's decided it's not fun/challenging to play the Metaverse anymore and is gone for good. If it's the latter, again, there are a couple of possible reasons why it might not be fun.

But at the most basic level, there are only a handful of people in the history of the Metaverse who could compete with her. Staffa is retired, Ray is inactive on submissions, and everybody else needs time to catch up. Not much of a challenge for her at this point.

On the game - hey, didn't you get the memo? College football is an exclusive trade good of the MWC. They hold the monopoly.

LOL LOL LOL

How did you know? Another secret revealed (I used to play big time in my youth even won some money playing!!)

Ouch!!

Hiya Monkson! Pull up a chair (and a beer) and sit yourself down. Hurley - a professional pinball wizard...yes, that makes sense...

Public note - two of us have now alluded to MM77 in stories (yes, I know, I started it) but given recent events I think we should chat about it privately and perhaps LAY OFF until we sort out the right way to handle this. I regret the goings on, and I dont think Special Forces is the kind of outfit that gets into flame wars and carries bad blood with our fellow players. Yes, I've slapped myself.

I think that is a fair comment Wild One. The repercussions to date have not been proportional to the intent!


Stop! You are having too much fun!!

Hurley is quite right. I'm the only one who should be slapping here. Weeee!

I have ALL the vices.

I know baby, I know....

I actually thought you invented some newer ones and revived the detailed exploration & appreciation of the more 'traditional' ones!
[Message Edited]

My apologies to ObiWan for my wrong use of words. I have decided to start my own empire. Sorry if I offened you. (:(

Mayito, please refer to my post in the Jedi thread or to the email that I sent - they're identical.

Top o' the Monday afternoon to y'all. Anything happen around here while I've been comatose? Are we all relaxed after a relaxing weekend?

Has anyone been cruel to Killa, intentionally or otherwise, recently?

Was that a request???

Only if you count that game of koala-ball between Obi and Quack in Wombie's last story. Really, it wasn't me! My next story will prove CONCLUSIVELY that I wasn't there!

Hmmm. I never forget a slight, and the saying 'Revenge is best served cold' was coined for me.

Now how can I contribute in a positive manner to this thread? Shall I put my finger in my mouth at the group hugging going on in the FOTR? Shall I roll my eyes at the Jedi thread? None of the above! I'll shuffle away and change my currently drafted story which is horribly outdated, delete certain jokes, add others. I intend to shock and revulse as many of you as I can next time.

Now, just so I have something Galciv related to say, does anyone note that playing maso, one can put a race a couple of pegs down in intelligence, and still be playing a maso game? If ya do that to (say) the Altarians, they will trade cash for techs etc and so act as another minor civ when it comes to trading. They also become an easy target. The trade off is that you don't get as many points. Happy gaming.

I'm finding gig maso a lot easier. Its the minor civs getting all those early planets.

tip from the FOTR thread Alexians and Scotties trade for cash helps early on..

I managed to finish my last game just on 2200(and I dont mean 10pm.. i did get a fundamentalist event that wiped out 2 civs and decimated the rest so that helped a bit and a draginol event that coined me 150,000 bc so i could buy all the wonders.. also culture flipped the Torians who had a planet PQ50 and so was exchanging that for techs from each civ, then funnily enough it flipped back to me.

a very odd game