Opportunity Does Not Knock

[Sandman]

Browsing through the SBM message archives, I found this old AAR. It brought a smile so I thot I'd share...

Opportunity does not knock...

It farging BOOMS!

Okay... so there I was, okay... there WE were... Storm in his trusty Nik, Mystical in his twin engine devil plane, and yours truly in yet another Nik borrowing from the tried and true strategy of our dearly beloved Storm. Load a center tank and 75% fuel, then rock and roll.

Okay... as I said... we're cruising along... 20,000 foot altitude in our home territory looking for pesky red guys. What were they? Knights? Rooks? Hell, I don't know... they're red. Duh. Anyway... we're not having any luck finding babes up here but we were fortunate enough to find a wulfie doing some buff hunting. Of course, Storm got his attention by booming on him from
above. (Note, I say "him" but it could be "her". Not shrecking likely but politically correct nonetheless.) Anyway... wulfie practically swallows his tongue at the veracity of Storm's botched attack and while Storm climbed away in a big sweeping arc that promised, "I'll be back, oh yeah baby, I'll be back and I'm coming for you!" Oh sorry... anyway... I swept down... put 15 or 20 rounds into the wulfs epidermal layer and watched his wings come off in a poof of white coolant and black oil. Bam! Dweeb9... er Sandman9 gets a kill.

So... We climb up and grab, grab, grab (as Scoob says) and go hunting for more hapless victims, er... I mean noble sim warriors to toy.. er I mean to fight with.

Storm spots 3 bogeys (or is it bogies? I'm never clear on this) and we move towards them. The two remain unknown but the third is a P51, roughly 3000 feet below me. I roll in, waiting for the inevitable jink move signaling that he's either paying attention or more likely, those other two bogs have warned him of my imminent arrival. I went blasting by the stang at ludicrous speed and I don't think I hit ANYTHING. So... I'm climbing up with the patented "I'll be back, oh yeah baby, I'll be back and I'm coming for you!" loop and find that the runstang is still level! Level! Oh... yeah... this is one of THOSE guys. You know the type.. those amazinhunks that set up their climb and then take off for a beer (or two) and then return when they think they're in position. Okay... so... it's a NOLO... er... NO Live Operator flight... I could let him go... naw... I need the stats! This time, the
wings came right off thankyouverymuch. BAM BAM! That's two!

So... I watch Storm dive on a F4U hog dweeb and somehow manages to fight off the entire pack of slavering opportunists that want to horn in on a low energy and/or wounded CHOG that is in desperate need of killin. Storm grabs the kill. Meanwhile, I commence this big arcing turn around the field looking for suspicious characters. I spot a bogey and give him my complete
and undivided attention. Curious, I dive in for a looksee... Oh yea... it's a JUG, a red one too. Mr. Jug is making a JABO run at my base. Imagine that. I dive in at him and the Nik is going way way too damn fast... The wind is roaring. The wings are creaking. I'm hunched over my computer like some sort of Internet perv... Wait a minute... I am an Internet perv. Have I ever told you about my porn collection? I tell you what... It's impressive... there are over 4500 images, all high quality and collected over years and years of late nights in front of the CRT fondling my nether regions and thinking impure thoughts about Racquel Darian and is that really Britney Spears?... oh toejam... where was I?

Oh yeah... Knucklehead jug driver is completely fixated on his target of choice. Whatever that is... I don't care. His bellybutton is mine. I've got 40 rounds left in the cannon and much much more in the guns. At 700 feet, Mr. Jug begins a climb out away from his drop. I'm all over him like white on rice and empty my cannons into the thin air. toejam. toejam. toejam! Okay... I'm still in it and concentrate on putting as much of my guns in him as I can... I see white trails and I pull away. By this time, the slavering fools are gathered round at full strength looking for some spare meat. Mr. Jug
foolishly turns back towards our field for yet another run. He never made it. The AAA finish the job and give ME the kill. BAM BAM BAM!

Now, I'm really nervous... a three kill bag and I still have to land.
Okay... lots of gas... make a nice easy approach and thank the gods that I'm not flying a hog. I can't land that plane to save my life. Anyway... on the ground all is well... Dot EF and my score is tallied.

Time to get the hell out and do something else tonight. My luck can't possibly hold. Hey... maybe I can find some porn...