« on: September 01, 2005, 06:30:21 AM »
The Book of Dweebs Verse Five And though many now believed that they were Dweebs no longer, none wouldst thus speak, for remembereth they the wrath of Doc. And the Gods were pleased, and spake they all as in one voice, and sayeth, "Let there be Weekend Warrior." And it was good.
And the Dweebs clambered into their Dweebfires, knowing full well that none would call the name of Dweeb to the only British plane enableth by the Gods, and smote they mightily the slothful Messerschmidts, and drove they the Luftwaffe Dweebs from the sky. And though they knew that humility was rewardeth by the Gods, yet was their joy so great that as one they proclaimed "Dweebs are we no longer, for we are scenario Vets!"
But they were wrong, for the scenario was not over, and the Gods were angered. For yay did the sky darken, and split open and spew forth fire, and through the smoke rode the Four Wurgers of the Apocalypse. And on their canopies was tattooed the number of the Beast, and the number was 190.
Verse Six And lo were the Spit-dweebs swept from the sky, and raineth British aircraft parts onto the Euro terrain for forty days and forty nights, and long could the vile scream of BMW engines be heard over the still flat and lifeless scenario terrain. And as the Spit-dweebs floateth silently to earth, yearning yet again for their .45s, did Doc finally speaketh...
« Last Edit: September 01, 2005, 06:32:54 AM by Wilbus »
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Rasmus "Wilbus" Mattsson
Liberating Livestock since 1998, recently returned from a 5 year Sheep-care training camp.
