Excalibur Squadron OOC Thread

[Grenartia]

When I say "one", you say "two"
When I say "Mister", you say "Magoo"

When I say "three", you say "four"
When I say "PT", you say "some more"

When I say "five", you say "six"
When I say "PT", you say "for kicks"

When I say "seven", you say "eight"
When I say "PT", you say "it's great"

When I say "nine", you say "ten"
When I say "PT", you say "again"

When my grandma was ninety one!
She did PT just for fun!

When my grandma was ninety two!
She did PT better than you!

When my grandma was ninety three!
She did PT better than me!

When my grandma was ninety four!
She did PT more and more!

When my grandma was ninety five!
She did PT and it kept her alive!

When my grandma was ninety six!
She did PT just for kicks!

When my grandma was ninety seven!
She did PT going up to heaven!

When my grandma was ninety eight!
She did PT at the pearly gates!

When my grandma was ninety nine!
She did PT at double time!

Mama and papa were layin' in bed
Mama rolled over, this is what she said

A-gimmie some
A-gimmie some

PT

Good for you
Good for me

[Grenartia]

Hey, Balk. You were in the military. Surely you picked up some golden ones.

[The Tiger Kingdom]

Any news on whether I can join or not

I'll say sure. Glad to finally have you in!

I'll modify the roster at some point in the near future.

[Jamessonia]

Any news on whether I can join or not

I'll say sure. Glad to finally have you in!

I'll modify the roster at some point in the near future.

Thanks!

Uh, what's going on right now?

[The Tiger Kingdom]

I'll say sure. Glad to finally have you in!

I'll modify the roster at some point in the near future.

Thanks!

Uh, what's going on right now?

You want the short explanation, or the long explanation?

[Jamessonia]

Thanks!

Uh, what's going on right now?

You want the short explanation, or the long explanation?

Well, I could go for the short one...

But that's no fun. I'll hear the long, if you've got no objections

[The Tiger Kingdom]

You want the short explanation, or the long explanation?

Well, I could go for the short one...

But that's no fun. I'll hear the long, if you've got no objections

It's World War Two. No surprises there.

Excalibur Squadron, the multinational special forces team assembled by the SOE for the purpose of screwing with the Axis as much as possible and in every way imaginable, was having a pretty good streak of luck - rescuing a Polish general, playing a major part in the sinking of a German battleship in Uruguay, foiling an SS plot to hijack the entire French Navy, pulling fighter duty over London at the height of the Battle of Britain (and saving the Prime Minister from a kidnapping attempt from a very persistent, very blonde SS psychopath), voyaging to the ancient and dusty climes of Egypt to neutralize a decades-old stock of uniquely deadly Imperial German nerve gas dating from 1917 that was to be shipped to Germany's African colonial forces in a zeppelin (which crashed in the Sahara)...it was a pretty good run.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. The previously mentioned blonde psycho (AKA Major Konrad von Sporrenburg of the Schutzstaffel) seems to have gotten hung up on Excalibur after his little scheme to bring Churchill to Berlin in chains went down in flames, and set up a trap for Excalibur in Spain. Leaking false information to suggest a German invasion of Gibraltar was imminent, Excalibur was lured to the Franco-Spanish border to destroy the rail tunnels the decoy German invasion was to use on their high-speed run to the Rock - only to discover there were no trains to blow up, only a full SS armored battalion and a horde of very angry Fascist Spanish soldiers, all waiting patiently for them to...how you say...drop in.

In the ensuing battle, Excalibur sustained over 50% casualties, including 3 KIAs and 4 MIAs. The missing - Captain/Squadron Leader Robert Page, Flying Officer Geoff Talbot, Flight Lieutenant Michael Zilorski, and Flight Lieutenant Pat Arnold, have all been captured and taken into captivity by the SS, who have been devoting them some pretty intensive attention. The remainder of the squadron, in a desperate attempt to get their comrades back, have raided a German comms outpost to get the coordinates, and upon discovering that the prisoners are to be shipped back to Berlin via fast air transport, have decided to pull a little bit of a midair hijack, TDKR-style.

That's about where we're at.

[Jamessonia]

Well, I could go for the short one...

But that's no fun. I'll hear the long, if you've got no objections

It's World War Two. No surprises there.

Excalibur Squadron, the multinational special forces team assembled by the SOE for the purpose of screwing with the Axis as much as possible and in every way imaginable, was having a pretty good streak of luck - rescuing a Polish general, playing a major part in the sinking of a German battleship in Uruguay, foiling an SS plot to hijack the entire French Navy, pulling fighter duty over London at the height of the Battle of Britain (and saving the Prime Minister from a kidnapping attempt from a very persistent, very blonde SS psychopath), voyaging to the ancient and dusty climes of Egypt to neutralize a decades-old stock of uniquely deadly Imperial German nerve gas dating from 1917 that was to be shipped to Germany's African colonial forces in a zeppelin (which crashed in the Sahara)...it was a pretty good run.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. The previously mentioned blonde psycho (AKA Major Konrad von Sporrenburg of the Schutzstaffel) seems to have gotten hung up on Excalibur after his little scheme to bring Churchill to Berlin in chains went down in flames, and set up a trap for Excalibur in Spain. Leaking false information to suggest a German invasion of Gibraltar was imminent, Excalibur was lured to the Franco-Spanish border to destroy the rail tunnels the decoy German invasion was to use on their high-speed run to the Rock - only to discover there were no trains to blow up, only a full SS armored battalion and a horde of very angry Fascist Spanish soldiers, all waiting patiently for them to...how you say...drop in.

In the ensuing battle, Excalibur sustained over 50% casualties, including 3 KIAs and 4 MIAs. The missing - Captain/Squadron Leader Robert Page, Flying Officer Geoff Talbot, Flight Lieutenant Michael Zilorski, and Flight Lieutenant Pat Arnold, have all been captured and taken into captivity by the SS, who have been devoting them some pretty intensive attention. The remainder of the squadron, in a desperate attempt to get their comrades back, have raided a German comms outpost to get the coordinates, and upon discovering that the prisoners are to be shipped back to Berlin via fast air transport, have decided to pull a little bit of a midair hijack, TDKR-style.

That's about where we're at.

Well then...

So you're attempting to intercept the plane with the Excalibur pilots inside now?

[Grenartia]

Well, I could go for the short one...

But that's no fun. I'll hear the long, if you've got no objections

It's World War Two. No surprises there.

Excalibur Squadron, the multinational special forces team assembled by the SOE for the purpose of screwing with the Axis as much as possible and in every way imaginable, was having a pretty good streak of luck - rescuing a Polish general, playing a major part in the sinking of a German battleship in Uruguay, foiling an SS plot to hijack the entire French Navy, pulling fighter duty over London at the height of the Battle of Britain (and saving the Prime Minister from a kidnapping attempt from a very persistent, very blonde SS psychopath), voyaging to the ancient and dusty climes of Egypt to neutralize a decades-old stock of uniquely deadly Imperial German nerve gas dating from 1917 that was to be shipped to Germany's African colonial forces in a zeppelin (which crashed in the Sahara)...it was a pretty good run.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. The previously mentioned blonde psycho (AKA Major Konrad von Sporrenburg of the Schutzstaffel) seems to have gotten hung up on Excalibur after his little scheme to bring Churchill to Berlin in chains went down in flames, and set up a trap for Excalibur in Spain. Leaking false information to suggest a German invasion of Gibraltar was imminent, Excalibur was lured to the Franco-Spanish border to destroy the rail tunnels the decoy German invasion was to use on their high-speed run to the Rock - only to discover there were no trains to blow up, only a full SS armored battalion and a horde of very angry Fascist Spanish soldiers, all waiting patiently for them to...how you say...drop in.

In the ensuing battle, Excalibur sustained over 50% casualties, including 3 KIAs and 4 MIAs. The missing - Captain/Squadron Leader Robert Page, Flying Officer Geoff Talbot, Flight Lieutenant Michael Zilorski, and Flight Lieutenant Pat Arnold, have all been captured and taken into captivity by the SS, who have been devoting them some pretty intensive attention. The remainder of the squadron, in a desperate attempt to get their comrades back, have raided a German comms outpost to get the coordinates, and upon discovering that the prisoners are to be shipped back to Berlin via fast air transport, have decided to pull a little bit of a midair hijack, TDKR-style.

That's about where we're at.

Basically, it involves harpooning said aerial transport, and zip-lining across to it, breaking in, doing some Seal Team Six-type shit, and recovering the POWs.

It's World War Two. No surprises there.

Excalibur Squadron, the multinational special forces team assembled by the SOE for the purpose of screwing with the Axis as much as possible and in every way imaginable, was having a pretty good streak of luck - rescuing a Polish general, playing a major part in the sinking of a German battleship in Uruguay, foiling an SS plot to hijack the entire French Navy, pulling fighter duty over London at the height of the Battle of Britain (and saving the Prime Minister from a kidnapping attempt from a very persistent, very blonde SS psychopath), voyaging to the ancient and dusty climes of Egypt to neutralize a decades-old stock of uniquely deadly Imperial German nerve gas dating from 1917 that was to be shipped to Germany's African colonial forces in a zeppelin (which crashed in the Sahara)...it was a pretty good run.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. The previously mentioned blonde psycho (AKA Major Konrad von Sporrenburg of the Schutzstaffel) seems to have gotten hung up on Excalibur after his little scheme to bring Churchill to Berlin in chains went down in flames, and set up a trap for Excalibur in Spain. Leaking false information to suggest a German invasion of Gibraltar was imminent, Excalibur was lured to the Franco-Spanish border to destroy the rail tunnels the decoy German invasion was to use on their high-speed run to the Rock - only to discover there were no trains to blow up, only a full SS armored battalion and a horde of very angry Fascist Spanish soldiers, all waiting patiently for them to...how you say...drop in.

In the ensuing battle, Excalibur sustained over 50% casualties, including 3 KIAs and 4 MIAs. The missing - Captain/Squadron Leader Robert Page, Flying Officer Geoff Talbot, Flight Lieutenant Michael Zilorski, and Flight Lieutenant Pat Arnold, have all been captured and taken into captivity by the SS, who have been devoting them some pretty intensive attention. The remainder of the squadron, in a desperate attempt to get their comrades back, have raided a German comms outpost to get the coordinates, and upon discovering that the prisoners are to be shipped back to Berlin via fast air transport, have decided to pull a little bit of a midair hijack, TDKR-style.

That's about where we're at.

Well then...

So you're attempting to intercept the plane with the Excalibur pilots inside now?

Pretty much.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

It's World War Two. No surprises there.

Excalibur Squadron, the multinational special forces team assembled by the SOE for the purpose of screwing with the Axis as much as possible and in every way imaginable, was having a pretty good streak of luck - rescuing a Polish general, playing a major part in the sinking of a German battleship in Uruguay, foiling an SS plot to hijack the entire French Navy, pulling fighter duty over London at the height of the Battle of Britain (and saving the Prime Minister from a kidnapping attempt from a very persistent, very blonde SS psychopath), voyaging to the ancient and dusty climes of Egypt to neutralize a decades-old stock of uniquely deadly Imperial German nerve gas dating from 1917 that was to be shipped to Germany's African colonial forces in a zeppelin (which crashed in the Sahara)...it was a pretty good run.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. The previously mentioned blonde psycho (AKA Major Konrad von Sporrenburg of the Schutzstaffel) seems to have gotten hung up on Excalibur after his little scheme to bring Churchill to Berlin in chains went down in flames, and set up a trap for Excalibur in Spain. Leaking false information to suggest a German invasion of Gibraltar was imminent, Excalibur was lured to the Franco-Spanish border to destroy the rail tunnels the decoy German invasion was to use on their high-speed run to the Rock - only to discover there were no trains to blow up, only a full SS armored battalion and a horde of very angry Fascist Spanish soldiers, all waiting patiently for them to...how you say...drop in.

In the ensuing battle, Excalibur sustained over 50% casualties, including 3 KIAs and 4 MIAs. The missing - Captain/Squadron Leader Robert Page, Flying Officer Geoff Talbot, Flight Lieutenant Michael Zilorski, and Flight Lieutenant Pat Arnold, have all been captured and taken into captivity by the SS, who have been devoting them some pretty intensive attention. The remainder of the squadron, in a desperate attempt to get their comrades back, have raided a German comms outpost to get the coordinates, and upon discovering that the prisoners are to be shipped back to Berlin via fast air transport, have decided to pull a little bit of a midair hijack, TDKR-style.

That's about where we're at.

Well then...

So you're attempting to intercept the plane with the Excalibur pilots inside now?

Hopefully nobody in the team is Muslim.

Wait, that joke won't be relevant at this time period.

[Grenartia]

Well then...

So you're attempting to intercept the plane with the Excalibur pilots inside now?

Hopefully nobody in the team is Muslim.

Wait, that joke won't be relevant at this time period.

Is it wrong that I just imagined you making a Muslim character for the sole purpose of having him fly a bomber into the Fuhrerbunker or Reichstag later on?

[Jamessonia]

Hopefully nobody in the team is Muslim.

Wait, that joke won't be relevant at this time period.

Is it wrong that I just imagined you making a Muslim character for the sole purpose of having him fly a bomber into the Fuhrerbunker or Reichstag later on?

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Hopefully nobody in the team is Muslim.

Wait, that joke won't be relevant at this time period.

Is it wrong that I just imagined you making a Muslim character for the sole purpose of having him fly a bomber into the Fuhrerbunker or Reichstag later on?

Name: Abdul Mohammed Khan
Age: 47
Rank: Abdul does not recognise rank.
Physical Description/Picture: http://i.crackedcdn.com/phpimages/artic ... 07.jpg?v=1
Country of Origin: India
Flight/Flight Combat Experience (MANDATORY): Yes.
Ground Combat Experience: India.
Specialties (air or ground - communications, demolitions, disguises, languages, etc.): Dick jokes.
Weapons of Choice: His bomber, his iron skin, his sunglasses, and dancing.
RP Experience: what is rp.
Personal History/Bio (more than one line please): Once, an angel descended from the heavens and banged a whore. A day later, Abdul emerged, wielding a shotgun. The angels informed him of his destiny - to kill Nazis.

Abdul shall obey his destiny.

[Grenartia]

Is it wrong that I just imagined you making a Muslim character for the sole purpose of having him fly a bomber into the Fuhrerbunker or Reichstag later on?

Name: Abdul Mohammed Khan
Age: 47
Rank: Abdul does not recognise rank.
Physical Description/Picture: http://i.crackedcdn.com/phpimages/artic ... 07.jpg?v=1
Country of Origin: India
Flight/Flight Combat Experience (MANDATORY): Yes.
Ground Combat Experience: India.
Specialties (air or ground - communications, demolitions, disguises, languages, etc.): Dick jokes.
Weapons of Choice: His bomber, his iron skin, his sunglasses, and dancing.
RP Experience: what is rp.
Personal History/Bio (more than one line please): Once, an angel descended from the heavens and banged a whore. A day later, Abdul emerged, wielding a shotgun. The angels informed him of his destiny - to kill Nazis.

Abdul shall obey his destiny.

Consider this sigged and AQ'd.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" screamed a German pilots as a man flew in the sky toward him. No plane, no nothing. Just the Indian man on a flying carpet, wielding a shotgun. His sunglasses were visible in the daylight, allowing the Nazis to know precisely who this was.

"How the fuck did he get over Berlin?" asked Hans over the radio, nearly pissing himself as the man came closer. "I can't drop bombs, it'd destroy the city-"

"Stay calm, stay calm, just relax." said his commander, though fear was in his voice. "We're trying to get a shot at him from here-"

Bullets and cannon fire flew from the ground at the flying man, exploding when they hit him...but doing no damage, no effect. The man kept coming, before emerging a metre from Hans' plane - and jumping off his carpet.

Hans was not easily scared. He was a hardened warrior, a trained and weary man who was not easily shocked. Hans had been through horrible, terrible things in this ungodly war, including watching his best friend's execution for being a Jew. Hans remained stony-eyed throughout, though his heart had broken inside.

But right now Hans was pissing himself.

The Indian man grinned before taking off his sunglasses. Laser beams burst through his eyes, searing a hole in the glass and hitting Hans in the chest, killing the man immediately and causing him to release the rest of his unfortunate liquids.

"Hans?" asked a concerned voice over the radio. "Are you there?"

Abdul sat on top of the plane now, crossing his legs and chanting "Ommm..." Audible over the radio.

---

"Holy Mary mother of God." muttered Fritz, the commander. He started crying, slowly but surely. "My Fuhrer..." he muttered. "I have failed you..."

He took out a cyanide pill, ready to swallow...when he found his foot tapping.

---

"It's magic, it's magic, I've got the vibe that you need." sang out Abdul as he manipulated the plane across Berlin's skies.

The sound was sent all across Berlin's airwaves, and also audible to the people on the ground. All of them found suddenly dancing along, unable to stop.

---

"God have mercy..." cried out one priest, as he and his altar boy started dancing randomly, unable to stop.

I mean, they had been dancing before, but now it was a totally different and much more horrific.

---

"This is inhumane!" cried out Fritz, trying desperately to swallow his cyanide pill, but unable to get his hand toward his mouth long enough to do so. He tried to throw it toward his mouth, but missed, sending it racketing off.

Then, to his horror, he found himself singing along. "Yeah, ke kachcha nahin kuch bhi pakka nahin kuch bhi, Hota hai jo kuch bhi sab khel hai"

---

Remember that Hans wasn't the sole pilot over Berlin. The others found themselves randomly dancing in their planes, incapable of stopping.This didn't help their ability to fly planes at all.

All across Berlin, planes began smashing into buildings, causing fire, pain, havoc and dancing.

---

Adolf Hitler, crying hysterically in his chamber, realised that a dancing Indian man had crashed through the ceiling and was walking slowly toward him, his shirt somehow flapping in the breeze, even though there was no fucking breeze.

"Kill me..." The Fuhrer tried to mouth, but was incapable of even that.

But instead, the Indian man frowned, looking at Hitler leaping into the air at random intervals and unable to control himself. So instead he grabbed the Nazi leader's hand and started spinning him around, grabbing him and lifting him into the air while they both sang the song. Immediately, the German was crying as he did so.

Eventually, Abdul chucked Hitler away, and the music stopped. The Fuhrer now took a breath, glad the torture had ended. "Why did you stop-"

Abdul merely smiled, pulling out some curry.

"No." The Fuhrer begged.

Abdul began eating the curry.

"Don't, I beg of you!"

Abdul finished the curry, and then drank a glass of water while Hitler tried to beg any God he could find for forgiveness, before realising no loving God would ever do this to him.

Abdul proceeded to break wind. Hitler choked and gagged, falling over dead.

Abdul turned to the reader, grinned and said merely "Well, I never expected that a bit of gas would ever kill someone."

[Grenartia]

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" screamed a German pilots as a man flew in the sky toward him. No plane, no nothing. Just the Indian man on a flying carpet, wielding a shotgun. His sunglasses were visible in the daylight, allowing the Nazis to know precisely who this was.

"How the fuck did he get over Berlin?" asked Hans over the radio, nearly pissing himself as the man came closer. "I can't drop bombs, it'd destroy the city-"

"Stay calm, stay calm, just relax." said his commander, though fear was in his voice. "We're trying to get a shot at him from here-"

Bullets and cannon fire flew from the ground at the flying man, exploding when they hit him...but doing no damage, no effect. The man kept coming, before emerging a metre from Hans' plane - and jumping off his carpet.

Hans was not easily scared. He was a hardened warrior, a trained and weary man who was not easily shocked. Hans had been through horrible, terrible things in this ungodly war, including watching his best friend's execution for being a Jew. Hans remained stony-eyed throughout, though his heart had broken inside.

But right now Hans was pissing himself.

The Indian man grinned before taking off his sunglasses. Laser beams burst through his eyes, searing a hole in the glass and hitting Hans in the chest, killing the man immediately and causing him to release the rest of his unfortunate liquids.

"Hans?" asked a concerned voice over the radio. "Are you there?"

Abdul sat on top of the plane now, crossing his legs and chanting "Ommm..." Audible over the radio.

---

"Holy Mary mother of God." muttered Fritz, the commander. He started crying, slowly but surely. "My Fuhrer..." he muttered. "I have failed you..."

He took out a cyanide pill, ready to swallow...when he found his foot tapping.

---

"It's magic, it's magic, I've got the vibe that you need." sang out Abdul as he manipulated the plane across Berlin's skies.

The sound was sent all across Berlin's airwaves, and also audible to the people on the ground. All of them found suddenly dancing along, unable to stop.

---

"God have mercy..." cried out one priest, as he and his altar boy started dancing randomly, unable to stop.

I mean, they had been dancing before, but now it was a totally different and much more horrific.

---

"This is inhumane!" cried out Fritz, trying desperately to swallow his cyanide pill, but unable to get his hand toward his mouth long enough to do so. He tried to throw it toward his mouth, but missed, sending it racketing off.

Then, to his horror, he found himself singing along. "Yeah, ke kachcha nahin kuch bhi pakka nahin kuch bhi, Hota hai jo kuch bhi sab khel hai"

---

Remember that Hans wasn't the sole pilot over Berlin. The others found themselves randomly dancing in their planes, incapable of stopping.This didn't help their ability to fly planes at all.

All across Berlin, planes began smashing into buildings, causing fire, pain, havoc and dancing.

---

Adolf Hitler, crying hysterically in his chamber, realised that a dancing Indian man had crashed through the ceiling and was walking slowly toward him, his shirt somehow flapping in the breeze, even though there was no fucking breeze.

"Kill me..." The Fuhrer tried to mouth, but was incapable of even that.

But instead, the Indian man frowned, looking at Hitler leaping into the air at random intervals and unable to control himself. So instead he grabbed the Nazi leader's hand and started spinning him around, grabbing him and lifting him into the air while they both sang the song. Immediately, the German was crying as he did so.

Eventually, Abdul chucked Hitler away, and the music stopped. The Fuhrer now took a breath, glad the torture had ended. "Why did you stop-"

Abdul merely smiled, pulling out some curry.

"No." The Fuhrer begged.

Abdul began eating the curry.

"Don't, I beg of you!"

Abdul finished the curry, and then drank a glass of water while Hitler tried to beg any God he could find for forgiveness, before realising no loving God would ever do this to him.

Abdul proceeded to break wind. Hitler choked and gagged, falling over dead.

Abdul turned to the reader, grinned and said merely "Well, I never expected that a bit of gas would ever kill someone."

Dammit. Yet again, sigging and AQ'ing. Also, you owe me a new lasdkjrfnaoino keyboard.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" screamed a German pilots as a man flew in the sky toward him. No plane, no nothing. Just the Indian man on a flying carpet, wielding a shotgun. His sunglasses were visible in the daylight, allowing the Nazis to know precisely who this was.

"How the fuck did he get over Berlin?" asked Hans over the radio, nearly pissing himself as the man came closer. "I can't drop bombs, it'd destroy the city-"

"Stay calm, stay calm, just relax." said his commander, though fear was in his voice. "We're trying to get a shot at him from here-"

Bullets and cannon fire flew from the ground at the flying man, exploding when they hit him...but doing no damage, no effect. The man kept coming, before emerging a metre from Hans' plane - and jumping off his carpet.

Hans was not easily scared. He was a hardened warrior, a trained and weary man who was not easily shocked. Hans had been through horrible, terrible things in this ungodly war, including watching his best friend's execution for being a Jew. Hans remained stony-eyed throughout, though his heart had broken inside.

But right now Hans was pissing himself.

The Indian man grinned before taking off his sunglasses. Laser beams burst through his eyes, searing a hole in the glass and hitting Hans in the chest, killing the man immediately and causing him to release the rest of his unfortunate liquids.

"Hans?" asked a concerned voice over the radio. "Are you there?"

Abdul sat on top of the plane now, crossing his legs and chanting "Ommm..." Audible over the radio.

---

"Holy Mary mother of God." muttered Fritz, the commander. He started crying, slowly but surely. "My Fuhrer..." he muttered. "I have failed you..."

He took out a cyanide pill, ready to swallow...when he found his foot tapping.

---

"It's magic, it's magic, I've got the vibe that you need." sang out Abdul as he manipulated the plane across Berlin's skies.

The sound was sent all across Berlin's airwaves, and also audible to the people on the ground. All of them found suddenly dancing along, unable to stop.

---

"God have mercy..." cried out one priest, as he and his altar boy started dancing randomly, unable to stop.

I mean, they had been dancing before, but now it was a totally different and much more horrific.

---

"This is inhumane!" cried out Fritz, trying desperately to swallow his cyanide pill, but unable to get his hand toward his mouth long enough to do so. He tried to throw it toward his mouth, but missed, sending it racketing off.

Then, to his horror, he found himself singing along. "Yeah, ke kachcha nahin kuch bhi pakka nahin kuch bhi, Hota hai jo kuch bhi sab khel hai"

---

Remember that Hans wasn't the sole pilot over Berlin. The others found themselves randomly dancing in their planes, incapable of stopping.This didn't help their ability to fly planes at all.

All across Berlin, planes began smashing into buildings, causing fire, pain, havoc and dancing.

---

Adolf Hitler, crying hysterically in his chamber, realised that a dancing Indian man had crashed through the ceiling and was walking slowly toward him, his shirt somehow flapping in the breeze, even though there was no fucking breeze.

"Kill me..." The Fuhrer tried to mouth, but was incapable of even that.

But instead, the Indian man frowned, looking at Hitler leaping into the air at random intervals and unable to control himself. So instead he grabbed the Nazi leader's hand and started spinning him around, grabbing him and lifting him into the air while they both sang the song. Immediately, the German was crying as he did so.

Eventually, Abdul chucked Hitler away, and the music stopped. The Fuhrer now took a breath, glad the torture had ended. "Why did you stop-"

Abdul merely smiled, pulling out some curry.

"No." The Fuhrer begged.

Abdul began eating the curry.

"Don't, I beg of you!"

Abdul finished the curry, and then drank a glass of water while Hitler tried to beg any God he could find for forgiveness, before realising no loving God would ever do this to him.

Abdul proceeded to break wind. Hitler choked and gagged, falling over dead.

Abdul turned to the reader, grinned and said merely "Well, I never expected that a bit of gas would ever kill someone."

Dammit. Yet again, sigging and AQ'ing. Also, you owe me a new lasdkjrfnaoino keyboard.

I genuinely have no idea what the fuck I wrote.

It's just that that song came on my playlist and my fingers began typing of their own accord.

[The Tiger Kingdom]

Is it wrong that I just imagined you making a Muslim character for the sole purpose of having him fly a bomber into the Fuhrerbunker or Reichstag later on?

Name: Abdul Mohammed Khan
Age: 47
Rank: Abdul does not recognise rank.
Physical Description/Picture: http://i.crackedcdn.com/phpimages/artic ... 07.jpg?v=1
Country of Origin: India
Flight/Flight Combat Experience (MANDATORY): Yes.
Ground Combat Experience: India.
Specialties (air or ground - communications, demolitions, disguises, languages, etc.): Dick jokes.
Weapons of Choice: His bomber, his iron skin, his sunglasses, and dancing.
RP Experience: what is rp.
Personal History/Bio (more than one line please): Once, an angel descended from the heavens and banged a whore. A day later, Abdul emerged, wielding a shotgun. The angels informed him of his destiny - to kill Nazis.

Abdul shall obey his destiny.

Accepted with much fire in heart.

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" screamed a German pilots as a man flew in the sky toward him. No plane, no nothing. Just the Indian man on a flying carpet, wielding a shotgun. His sunglasses were visible in the daylight, allowing the Nazis to know precisely who this was.

"How the fuck did he get over Berlin?" asked Hans over the radio, nearly pissing himself as the man came closer. "I can't drop bombs, it'd destroy the city-"

"Stay calm, stay calm, just relax." said his commander, though fear was in his voice. "We're trying to get a shot at him from here-"

Bullets and cannon fire flew from the ground at the flying man, exploding when they hit him...but doing no damage, no effect. The man kept coming, before emerging a metre from Hans' plane - and jumping off his carpet.

Hans was not easily scared. He was a hardened warrior, a trained and weary man who was not easily shocked. Hans had been through horrible, terrible things in this ungodly war, including watching his best friend's execution for being a Jew. Hans remained stony-eyed throughout, though his heart had broken inside.

But right now Hans was pissing himself.

The Indian man grinned before taking off his sunglasses. Laser beams burst through his eyes, searing a hole in the glass and hitting Hans in the chest, killing the man immediately and causing him to release the rest of his unfortunate liquids.

"Hans?" asked a concerned voice over the radio. "Are you there?"

Abdul sat on top of the plane now, crossing his legs and chanting "Ommm..." Audible over the radio.

---

"Holy Mary mother of God." muttered Fritz, the commander. He started crying, slowly but surely. "My Fuhrer..." he muttered. "I have failed you..."

He took out a cyanide pill, ready to swallow...when he found his foot tapping.

---

"It's magic, it's magic, I've got the vibe that you need." sang out Abdul as he manipulated the plane across Berlin's skies.

The sound was sent all across Berlin's airwaves, and also audible to the people on the ground. All of them found suddenly dancing along, unable to stop.

---

"God have mercy..." cried out one priest, as he and his altar boy started dancing randomly, unable to stop.

I mean, they had been dancing before, but now it was a totally different and much more horrific.

---

"This is inhumane!" cried out Fritz, trying desperately to swallow his cyanide pill, but unable to get his hand toward his mouth long enough to do so. He tried to throw it toward his mouth, but missed, sending it racketing off.

Then, to his horror, he found himself singing along. "Yeah, ke kachcha nahin kuch bhi pakka nahin kuch bhi, Hota hai jo kuch bhi sab khel hai"

---

Remember that Hans wasn't the sole pilot over Berlin. The others found themselves randomly dancing in their planes, incapable of stopping.This didn't help their ability to fly planes at all.

All across Berlin, planes began smashing into buildings, causing fire, pain, havoc and dancing.

---

Adolf Hitler, crying hysterically in his chamber, realised that a dancing Indian man had crashed through the ceiling and was walking slowly toward him, his shirt somehow flapping in the breeze, even though there was no fucking breeze.

"Kill me..." The Fuhrer tried to mouth, but was incapable of even that.

But instead, the Indian man frowned, looking at Hitler leaping into the air at random intervals and unable to control himself. So instead he grabbed the Nazi leader's hand and started spinning him around, grabbing him and lifting him into the air while they both sang the song. Immediately, the German was crying as he did so.

Eventually, Abdul chucked Hitler away, and the music stopped. The Fuhrer now took a breath, glad the torture had ended. "Why did you stop-"

Abdul merely smiled, pulling out some curry.

"No." The Fuhrer begged.

Abdul began eating the curry.

"Don't, I beg of you!"

Abdul finished the curry, and then drank a glass of water while Hitler tried to beg any God he could find for forgiveness, before realising no loving God would ever do this to him.

Abdul proceeded to break wind. Hitler choked and gagged, falling over dead.

Abdul turned to the reader, grinned and said merely "Well, I never expected that a bit of gas would ever kill someone."

NOT THE CURRY

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Name: Abdul Mohammed Khan
Age: 47
Rank: Abdul does not recognise rank.
Physical Description/Picture: http://i.crackedcdn.com/phpimages/artic ... 07.jpg?v=1
Country of Origin: India
Flight/Flight Combat Experience (MANDATORY): Yes.
Ground Combat Experience: India.
Specialties (air or ground - communications, demolitions, disguises, languages, etc.): Dick jokes.
Weapons of Choice: His bomber, his iron skin, his sunglasses, and dancing.
RP Experience: what is rp.
Personal History/Bio (more than one line please): Once, an angel descended from the heavens and banged a whore. A day later, Abdul emerged, wielding a shotgun. The angels informed him of his destiny - to kill Nazis.

Abdul shall obey his destiny.

Accepted with much fire in heart.

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" screamed a German pilots as a man flew in the sky toward him. No plane, no nothing. Just the Indian man on a flying carpet, wielding a shotgun. His sunglasses were visible in the daylight, allowing the Nazis to know precisely who this was.

"How the fuck did he get over Berlin?" asked Hans over the radio, nearly pissing himself as the man came closer. "I can't drop bombs, it'd destroy the city-"

"Stay calm, stay calm, just relax." said his commander, though fear was in his voice. "We're trying to get a shot at him from here-"

Bullets and cannon fire flew from the ground at the flying man, exploding when they hit him...but doing no damage, no effect. The man kept coming, before emerging a metre from Hans' plane - and jumping off his carpet.

Hans was not easily scared. He was a hardened warrior, a trained and weary man who was not easily shocked. Hans had been through horrible, terrible things in this ungodly war, including watching his best friend's execution for being a Jew. Hans remained stony-eyed throughout, though his heart had broken inside.

But right now Hans was pissing himself.

The Indian man grinned before taking off his sunglasses. Laser beams burst through his eyes, searing a hole in the glass and hitting Hans in the chest, killing the man immediately and causing him to release the rest of his unfortunate liquids.

"Hans?" asked a concerned voice over the radio. "Are you there?"

Abdul sat on top of the plane now, crossing his legs and chanting "Ommm..." Audible over the radio.

---

"Holy Mary mother of God." muttered Fritz, the commander. He started crying, slowly but surely. "My Fuhrer..." he muttered. "I have failed you..."

He took out a cyanide pill, ready to swallow...when he found his foot tapping.

---

"It's magic, it's magic, I've got the vibe that you need." sang out Abdul as he manipulated the plane across Berlin's skies.

The sound was sent all across Berlin's airwaves, and also audible to the people on the ground. All of them found suddenly dancing along, unable to stop.

---

"God have mercy..." cried out one priest, as he and his altar boy started dancing randomly, unable to stop.

I mean, they had been dancing before, but now it was a totally different and much more horrific.

---

"This is inhumane!" cried out Fritz, trying desperately to swallow his cyanide pill, but unable to get his hand toward his mouth long enough to do so. He tried to throw it toward his mouth, but missed, sending it racketing off.

Then, to his horror, he found himself singing along. "Yeah, ke kachcha nahin kuch bhi pakka nahin kuch bhi, Hota hai jo kuch bhi sab khel hai"

---

Remember that Hans wasn't the sole pilot over Berlin. The others found themselves randomly dancing in their planes, incapable of stopping.This didn't help their ability to fly planes at all.

All across Berlin, planes began smashing into buildings, causing fire, pain, havoc and dancing.

---

Adolf Hitler, crying hysterically in his chamber, realised that a dancing Indian man had crashed through the ceiling and was walking slowly toward him, his shirt somehow flapping in the breeze, even though there was no fucking breeze.

"Kill me..." The Fuhrer tried to mouth, but was incapable of even that.

But instead, the Indian man frowned, looking at Hitler leaping into the air at random intervals and unable to control himself. So instead he grabbed the Nazi leader's hand and started spinning him around, grabbing him and lifting him into the air while they both sang the song. Immediately, the German was crying as he did so.

Eventually, Abdul chucked Hitler away, and the music stopped. The Fuhrer now took a breath, glad the torture had ended. "Why did you stop-"

Abdul merely smiled, pulling out some curry.

"No." The Fuhrer begged.

Abdul began eating the curry.

"Don't, I beg of you!"

Abdul finished the curry, and then drank a glass of water while Hitler tried to beg any God he could find for forgiveness, before realising no loving God would ever do this to him.

Abdul proceeded to break wind. Hitler choked and gagged, falling over dead.

Abdul turned to the reader, grinned and said merely "Well, I never expected that a bit of gas would ever kill someone."

NOT THE CURRY

Fire in the heart, by the way, is a noted side effect of the curry.

[Monfrox]

[Nightkill the Emperor]

(Image)

India.

[Monfrox]

(Image)

India.

I have been to school and I have learned.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

India.

I have been to school and I have learned.

I'm just disappointed nobody commented on my serious take on the Catholic Church's paedophilia scandal in that story.

[The balkens]

(Image)

Nightkill happened.

[Monfrox]

I have been to school and I have learned.

I'm just disappointed nobody commented on my serious take on the Catholic Church's paedophilia scandal in that story.

I think that's a bit obscure for here.

It's one of the things that's been done to death.