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Rare_Spartan

Rare_Spartan

3/29/2008 10:13:31 PM
Hey, y'all. As the title suggests, this story is based around Captain MacMillan, who is "famous" for his role in Call of Duty 4. It is, however, largely focused on the Halo universe as well. This fan-fiction is going to be written by both myself and Uberdawg, who will likely have the first chapter up tonight. This prologue is simply a backstory for MacMillan. 'tis here: [b]The Misadventures of Captain MacMillan[/b] [i]Prologue[/i] Who is Captain MacMillan? Where did he come from? How did his mere existence lead two Xbox Live gamers to write a piece of literature based around him? Those first two will be answered as we progress through this prologue. That third one- well, it’s not like we really had a choice. It’s Captain MacMillan! Rumour once had it that MacMillan descended from Hercules (as were the Spartans of the Battle of Thermopylae, coincidentally). Others speculated that the man just simply created himself. However, after careful, scientific deduction, it has been proven that Captain MacMillan originated from radiated dog feces. And that does not make him any less human than the rest of us. Probably more so, come to think of it. During his early years (if that's what you want to call them), MacMillan was raised by a pack of wolves within the abandoned city of Chernobyl. With their expertise, he became stealthy, cunning, and learned not only how to speak with a Scottish accent, but also how to wield an M21. MacMillan loved his family. Every night, he would bring home the rabbits that he had hunted that afternoon, just to see the look on their faces (which, being wolves, was almost always the same). One morning, however, while MacMillan was fetching breakfast for his family, the entire pack was murdered by a boy and his father (why they were in Chernobyl to begin with is beyond me). It was but a mere two minutes later when they both heard the phrase, "Oi, suzy!" Neither the condition nor the whereabouts of these two are known. MacMillan currently serves as an SAS (Special Air Service) officer. [Edited on 03.29.2008 2:20 PM PDT]

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  • Lord179
  • Nikerulez222
  • Hurricane AT
  • AIDS MONKEY

    AIDS MONKEY

    2/1/2009 6:46:18 AM Permalink
    Where'd the Chicago thing come from? It went from a radiated piece of dog crap that lived in Chernobyl to a ghillie-suited sniper from Chicago who sat on the back porch and chucked rocks at dogs.
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  • Rare_Spartan

    Rare_Spartan

    2/1/2009 6:36:09 AM Permalink
    Thanks for the comments, folks. Again, sorry that we took so long, though I'm glad that y'all enjoyed the final chapter. Also, while we did mention a while back that a sequel would be written soon after this one was finished, we're currently not sure as to when that'll happen. Knowing us, we'll probably start it up around November. XD [/serious] [Edited on 01.31.2009 10:36 PM PST]
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  • Free Mr Chief
  • Fishie1
  • PavedLow
  • Uberdawg

    Uberdawg

    1/29/2009 10:44:01 PM Permalink
    LOL, that was the first time I got to read Rare's part of the chapter (which was way better than mine), and I am utterly in awe of how great that was. I know y'all might not think it was worth the insanely long wait... but I kinda think it might've been--*Gets shot* Tasteful Dark Knight parody was very tasteful indeed! Also, I think this line in there pretty much sums up the entire fanfiction: [quote]Could she have finally come to her senses, knowing full well what punishment awaited thee who dared challenge the awesomeness that was Captain MacMillan? [/quote] Mmmm. It's good to have it done and I hope y'all all enjoyed it, I know Rare and I did. And sorry again we took so long... [Edited on 01.29.2009 2:44 PM PST]
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  • P1 Press Start

    P1 Press Start

    1/29/2009 10:24:57 PM Permalink
    *sniff* Twas beautiful. ...THANKS FOR PROCRASTINATING FOR SO LONG >:(!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
  • Hujgup
  • Rare_Spartan

    Rare_Spartan

    1/29/2009 9:53:35 AM Permalink
    Once all of the attendees had left the memorial, Hood looked back at the Pelican wing, reading the inscription (stating the official end of the Human-Covenant War) to himself aloud. About mid-way through, however, he heard a slight rumble in the bushes behind him. The Admiral turned backward, only to hear these two words: "Oi, Suzy!" [b]The End[/b] [Edited on 01.29.2009 2:09 AM PST]
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  • Rare_Spartan

    Rare_Spartan

    1/29/2009 9:46:49 AM Permalink
    [I]Chapter 15: Not a Bang… (That’s What She Said)[/I] [b]Desert of the Ark[/b] [b]2552[/b] “SNIPER!” No sooner had MacMillan shouted the warning than the six men split up, Privates Jackson and Washington and Corporal Gaz heading towards the helicopter wreckage and firing aimlessly into the Forerunner ruins, whilst MacMillan, Price and Kovacs sprinted towards the nearby Elephant. “That the lass we were supposed to chase?” Price demanded as the trio took shelter in the shadow in one of the Elephant’s massive treads. “Oi, so it is. She’s a real –blam!-, that one is.” “What in the hell is a ‘-blam-‘, anyway, sir?” “Are you daft? A –blam!- is a female dog, you…” “What, you mean a b!tch? Since when did ‘-blam-!’ replace b!tch?” MacMillan heaved a sigh of frustration. “Now, look, you’re circumventing the –blam!- thing…” Kovacs chose this moment of confusion to butt in: “Dude, I don’t get this –blam!-.” Both of his allies glared at him, and it was all MacMillan could do to contain his powers over spontaneous combustion and save the Corporal’s life. “Look, sir, what’s our plan here?” Price brought the petty conversation to its end, reminding everyone there were still bullets raining, though Suzy was now shooting at Gaz’s group holed up behind the Sea Knight. MacMillan spat into the sand as he thought silently. While considering their options, an infernal droning of radio static invaded his ears. As his eyes followed his ears, he noticed the Arbiter’s corpse again, or more specifically, the radio the warrior still had attached to a belt on his waist. For a piece of state of the art Covenant communications equipment, it was of unusual size, and MacMillan could only conclude that it had to be a very long range one. “Cover me, I’m goin’ to get that radio!” he barked to Price and Kovacs, both of whom readied themselves at the corner of the Elephant. “Go!” MacMillan shouted as he ran, feet sinking deep into the sand and slowing his pace, to the Arbiter’s corpse, grabbing the radio off of the belt as fast as he could. As he ran back into cover, he felt bullets flying past him, and he watched as Kovacs and Price fired back wildly. All three men huddled back behind the tread, and MacMillan focused his attention on the radio. Working the dial, he focused in on one signal… [I]“Psst, Jim… I’ve got the Mudkipz pr0n I heard you like…”[/I] MacMillan quickly turned the dial again, zeroing in on the next signal. [I]“This is Sangheili Fleet Commander Rtas 'Vadumee… Arbiter, do you hear me?”[/I] MacMillan recognized that voice, and it was one he was happy to hear. “Half-Jaw! That you?” A pregnant silence filled the radio. [I]“Who is this?”[/I] “Captain MacMillan, lad. The Arbiter is dead, and I’m at the Ark… I was at High Charity, remember? I killed Tartarus.” [I]“Yes, of course. I hear gunfire on your end… are you in need of assistance?”[/I] MacMillan bit his lip temporarily, then his logic beat down his pride. “Yeah, I am, I’m at…” [I]“Nevermind that, human, I can tell the position of the radio. Just keep it with you. I’ll have a Phantom down to you in 5 minutes.”[/I] “Solves that!” Price said cheerfully as MacMillan thanked Half-Jaw and shoved the radio into his Endless Bag of Tricks. “Price, we need to get together with the others, then let Half-Jaw glass this whole area, it’s the best way to handle this once and for all,” MacMillan reasoned. Captain Price nodded his consent, but Corporal Kovacs took another opportunity to ask a profound question: “Sir, what’s a half-jaw?” "Christ, lad, you remind me of my parrot from college!" Price barked, as he then turned toward MacMillan "What about the girl, sir? Not all of us are gonna make it to the helicopter with that little bugger takin' pot shots at us." "You lads stay here," replied the Scotsman "I'll take care of Suzy." The Captain counted to three, then quickly rushed out of the cover provided by the Elephant. Surprisingly, even in MacMillan's case, not a single bullet was fired at him as he made his way to the top of the sand dune. Upon scaling the hill, MacMillan swiftly slid under a half-collapsed arcway, and into the Forerunner ruins. Again, though, to MacMillan's surprise, Suzy was nowhere in sight. As he continued down the dimly-lit corridor (with the only glimpse of light coming from the other end of the passageway), the Captain thought, could she have fled? Could she have finally come to her senses, knowing full well what punishment awaited thee who dared challenge the awesomeness that was Captain MacMillan? Apparently not, as just two minutes later, MacMillan was literally shot in the back. The Scotsman felt virtually no pain, of course, but turned around just the same. And standing behind a six foot pillar on the landing above him was Suzy herself, wielding a SRS99D-S2 AM Sniper Rifle. "Like, why is it every time I aim for the head, I always end up shooting 'em in the back? It's, like, [i]so[/i] annoying! >: (" exclaimed the young'n. "It's over, lass," MacMillan told her "You're comin' with me." "Like, not alive I'm not! >:D" Suzy replied, as she aimed her rifle (bow chicka.... Ah, forget it) toward her left foot. "Err... Don't do it?" MacMillan said, unaware of just how foolish this girl was until now. "Like, seriously, I'll do it!" Suzy barked, "Don't come any closer!" The Captain sighed, took hold of his M9 pistol, and fired Suzy's weapon out of her hands, and onto the landing below. "Now, get down here!" MacMillan demanded. "Fine," Suzy replied, rolling her eyes "You win, Cappy. =)" The lass leaped off of the platform and onto the ground floor, but as she approached MacMillan with her arms behind her back, the Captain could sense that something was not right. As MacMillan reached for her arms, Suzy sprang forward with two silver knives, causing him to fall backward, and onto the cliff edge just on the other end of the corridor. The lass crouched toward MacMillan, with the two knives just mere inches away from his neck. "Why couldn't you just let Arby and me be together, Cappy?!" Suzy exclaimed stutteringly, "We were [b]meant[/b] to be be!" "Lass, don't you try to blame this-" "Enough," she interupted "This time I came prepared. To finish the job once and for all. >: ( It's a funny world we live in. Speakin' of which, you know how I got these scars?" As Suzy began to lift up her shirt, MacMillan appropriately intervened. "No," the Captain replied "But I know how you got these!" MacMillan, using a less fatal version of his [i]Pimpslap of Doom and Terror™[/i], smacked the two knives out of Suzy's hands, and right across her cheeks. The lass shrieked as MacMillan grabbed Suzy by her hair, and then tossed her over the cliff edge, at which point she began laughing maniacally. The Captain got back on his feet, now in a crouching position, and aimed his M21 at the plummeting Suzy. One millisecond later, MacMillan fired what looked like grappling wire out of his sniper rifle. The wire caught Suzy by her right leg just as she was about to land headfirst into the canyon below, and with the strength of his pinkies alone, the Scotsman lifted the now powerless teenager back to the top of the cliff. "Oh, you just couldn't let me go, could you, Cappy? <3" said Suzy exhaustingly, as she lied near the cliff edge "You really do play by the book, don't you? You won't kill me out of some misplaced sense of self-righteousness, and I won't kill you because.... Well, you're you. "I think you and I," Suzy continued "are destined to do this forever." "What're you talkin' about, lass?" MacMillan asked "As far as I'm aware, this is our first and only fight. I mean, you really thought that you could carry this [i]Dark Knight[/i] parody all the way up to this point?" "Can't blame a girl for tryin', Cappy >.>" Suzy shrugged. By the time that MacMillan had made it back to the "crash zone", the Sea Knight was fully operational again, with each of his men all inside and ready to go home. With duct tape wrapped around her mouth, hands, and feet, Suzy was tossed into the back of the helicopter, accompanying Kovacs and Gaz, as well as Privates Jackson and Washington. As the Sea Knight began to raise altitude, MacMillan (who was sitting in the cockpit, along with Captain Price) searched for Half-Jaw's signal on the radio. "Oi, Half-Jaw! This is Captain MacMillan. Do you read me?" [i]"....Affirmative, Captain. What do you need?"[/i] the Spec Ops Commander responded. "We're on our way out," the Captain said "Go ahead and glass this place, will you?" [i]“I shall beat the Forerunner structure like a drum!”[/i] Half-Jaw thundered epically. “Uhh, alright, lad…” [i]“Or perhaps I shall beat it like a rented mule…”[/i] Half-Jaw mused. “Look, shouldn’t you be firing the cannons by now?” [i]“No, no, I shall beat it like I beat your mother’s—”[/i] “SHUT UP AND GLASS IT!” [i]Epilogue: Unfinished Business[/i] [b]Voi, Kenya, East Africa[/b] [b]2553[/b] Fleet Admiral Terrence Hood stood before over half a dozen Marines, with the wing D77H-TCI Pelican Dropship prompted just behind him. "For us," said Hood, removing his white cap "the storm has passed... the war is over. But let us never forget those who journeyed into the howling dark and did not return. For their decision required courage beyond measure; sacrifice, and unshakable conviction that their fight... our fight, was elsewhere. "As we start to rebuild," he continued "this hillside will remain barren, a memorial to heroes fallen. They ennobled all of us, and they shall not be forgotten." The Admiral put his cap back on, as the seven marines lined about ten feet infront of him raised their Battle Rifles, each firing a single round of three shots into the air. [i]Continued Next Post[/i]
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  • Uberdawg

    Uberdawg

    1/29/2009 3:33:50 AM Permalink
    Alright fellas, one more filler short story, and Rare will be posting that chapter TONIGHT, he guarantees me... Ever wondered just why Chief did jump out of the Dreadnought? Me, too… Spartan 117 marched fearlessly through the annals of the sleek Forerunner Dreadnought, his mind sole in purpose and sharp in composure. He wound the seemingly endless hallways without having much of an idea as to where he was going; and the ship was surprisingly sparse in population for the vessel of the Prophet of Truth. And yet, as he rounded one corner, his keen ears heard a deep, throaty voice of a Brute… “Mmmmm… HUNGER…” The Chief rumbled down the hallway hastily towards the voice, rounding a corner slowly, Battle Rifle in hand. Ahead lay a motion-activated door in classic Covenant mold. He approached it, and it opened. Inside, a dozen Grunts shuffled about rapidly while a Brute oversaw them in their task. Their objective was something the Master Chief, in all his intelligence and experience, had not expected: they were cooking. These were no ordinary Grunts; they were, in fact, as unordinary as their task: each wore an elaborate but traditional chef’s hat (some pink, some white, some purple, perhaps designating rank or task); as well as an unusual apron that tied all the way back to their triangular methane packs. The Chief did not open fire on the hostiles, and for the moment, none noticed them, so absorbed in their hearty flipping of pancakes, frying of eggs, and manning of massive toasters. The Food Network was on in the background, and Rachel Ray’s voice extolled the virtues of Filet-o-Mignon. He watched this spectacle, mouth agape, for a full ten seconds before the Brute finally saw the green-clad human in the doorway. “A DEMON HAS INFILTRATED THE HOLY KITCHENS?!?!?” the angry mammal roared. “THE HOLY PICNIC’S PREPARATIONS CANNOT BE INTERRUPTED! SLAY HIM NOW!!” The Master Chief’s instinct clicked in, and he immediately opened fire on the Brute; expecting the Grunts to flee if he killed their leader. As the Brute hit the floor after three bursts from his Battle Rifle, though, the Chief’s experiences proved moot: the Grunts were not about to flee or take their death lying down. The first, a Grunt clad in pink armor, with a pink apron and hat, leapt at him with the plasma knife it had been using to carve a thick slab of pork on the table. The Chief adjusted his aim and took a shot, ripping up the Grunt’s right arm, but the ambidextrous chef shifted its knife effortlessly into its other hand and laid a crushing blow into the Chief’s helmet. The Spartan stumbled into the side of the doorway hard, firing a three round burst into the all-pink Grunt’s head, then sprinting forward into the room to engage the other eleven. These too, however, were incredibly stubborn. Six of them charged him with an assortment of kitchen weaponry: knives, rolling pins, forks, sporks, fire extinguishers and multiple lamb chops. The other five hung back, pelting his armor with steaming projectiles and plasma-tipped knives. The foremost of the charging Grunts, in an effort of momentous self-sacrifice so as to be rewarded in the Great Journey splendidly, stripped his own methane tank off and slashed a hole in it with a butter knife. The Chief, firing at the Grunts behind this lead fanatic, watched from the corner of his eye as the Grunt pulled a toaster from a nearby table, stuffed a Martha Stewart cooking magazine in it, then angled the methane tank to spray the flammable gas over the lit magazine and towards the human. Another Grunt took a massive bowl of boiling cooking grease, and slung it towards the Chief’s feet. The methane flamethrower ate away rapidly at his state-of-the-art energy shields, and the Spartan shot repeatedly through the fire, eventually taking the Grunt out, yet amidst the confusion, the Chief found himself backing into a corner firing frantically as his world crumbled around him. He heard the last burst of flame light the oil on the floor on fire. As he took one more step to the side, he felt his left foot slip on the cooking oil, and he stumbled onto the flaming ground as his entire suit of armor lit up. The pack of Grunts, so tenacious and terrifying, closed rapidly and were prepared to rip him apart. The Spartan did what he rarely did: took stock of the situation, determined he had to retreat, and did. Seeing a small trash chute just a few feet away, he scrambled out of the oil as his shields expired, and leapt. Thirty seconds later, Earth’s gravity was sucking him in, as he twisted helplessly amidst the great space battle around him; watching the Dreadnought sink into the distance slowly. Chief knew he could tell no one. Humanity could not know that its greatest hero had his half-ton super-soldier rear destroyed by a dozen Covenant cooks.
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  • PavedLow

    PavedLow

    1/24/2009 6:58:17 PM Permalink
    lol. [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Uberdawg Hey guys. Sorry it's taking so long; I got my half done and Rare is still working on his. Be patient with him, he had a nasty root canal... So here's a little something I wrote up a long time ago and just recently dug up: [i]And now, a Sideshow...[/i] [i]Cut to sweeping view of Galaxy[/i] Operator: Hello, thank you for calling 1-800 YOUAREALLOFYOUVERMIN, how many I help you today? Caller: Yes, I was wondering if I could get some help with extermination of a species… Operator: Of course, sir! Is the species you’re seeking to annihilate primitive, semi-advanced, advanced, or very advanced? Caller: Ummm… advanced. Operator: Alright. How many planets are they on? Caller: Just one, currently. Operator: Excellent! Is the planet small, mid-sized, large or extra large? Caller: Ehhh… mid-sized, I’d say. Operator: Very well. We have a number of genocide plans available for advanced, single mid-sized planet species. Before I send you over to the expert planners, would you like an intimidating speech, consulting on how to make a scary, ominous warship, or our custom manual on how to contain the all-consuming parasite that may be spreading like wildfire while you’re conducting your genocide? Caller: I think I have the ominous warship handled and if my genocide goes off well, I shouldn’t need to worry about the parasite, but I’ll take the intimidating speech! Operator: Good, good. I’ll go ahead and send you over to the speech writers now, where your custom concerns regarding intimidating speeches will be handled appropriately with professionalism. Caller: Yes, do hurry. Operator: Of course, sir, please hold… *Music begins playing* Caller: By the Rings, do they always have to play this annoying music?[/quote]
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  • Uberdawg

    Uberdawg

    1/22/2009 2:59:19 AM Permalink
    Hey guys. Sorry it's taking so long; I got my half done and Rare is still working on his. Be patient with him, he had a nasty root canal... So here's a little something I wrote up a long time ago and just recently dug up: [i]And now, a Sideshow...[/i] [i]Cut to sweeping view of Galaxy[/i] Operator: Hello, thank you for calling 1-800 YOUAREALLOFYOUVERMIN, how many I help you today? Caller: Yes, I was wondering if I could get some help with extermination of a species… Operator: Of course, sir! Is the species you’re seeking to annihilate primitive, semi-advanced, advanced, or very advanced? Caller: Ummm… advanced. Operator: Alright. How many planets are they on? Caller: Just one, currently. Operator: Excellent! Is the planet small, mid-sized, large or extra large? Caller: Ehhh… mid-sized, I’d say. Operator: Very well. We have a number of genocide plans available for advanced, single mid-sized planet species. Before I send you over to the expert planners, would you like an intimidating speech, consulting on how to make a scary, ominous warship, or our custom manual on how to contain the all-consuming parasite that may be spreading like wildfire while you’re conducting your genocide? Caller: I think I have the ominous warship handled and if my genocide goes off well, I shouldn’t need to worry about the parasite, but I’ll take the intimidating speech! Operator: Good, good. I’ll go ahead and send you over to the speech writers now, where your custom concerns regarding intimidating speeches will be handled appropriately with professionalism. Caller: Yes, do hurry. Operator: Of course, sir, please hold… *Music begins playing* Caller: By the Rings, do they always have to play this annoying music?
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  • Ezra Zaire1
  • AboveClassified
  • Uberdawg

    Uberdawg

    12/31/2008 11:34:08 PM Permalink
    Alright, guys, I'm gonna be straight with y'all. Rare and I have both been procrastinating for ever. But it matters no more: [b]the FINAL CHAPTER will be posted sometime this week or next[/b]. I've got about a 3rd of my draft written and a good idea for the rest, and Rare is (I think) working on a draft as well, or he will be, if mine isn't satisfactory to his and my collective tastes. Anyway, we'll stay in close touch on this and have something to end this series real quick here. I know we didn't finish this thing great on timing, but better late than never.
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  • Deathinaitor

    Deathinaitor

    12/25/2008 11:23:14 AM Permalink
    I honestly hope this will come back but i doubt it, as it has been a LONG TIMEZ yeah...
  • Free Mr Chief

    Free Mr Chief

    12/14/2008 8:46:03 AM Permalink
    Don't worry. my friends are working on it and they will finish it. [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Deathinaitor and so this story is laid to rest with the stain of unfinshed-ness on its coffin too bad couse i really liked it to[/quote]
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  • P1 Press Start

    P1 Press Start

    12/14/2008 4:05:10 AM Permalink
    [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Luke35120 Don't lose faith! It may again rise from the dead... [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Deathinaitor and so this story is laid to rest with the stain of unfinshed-ness on its coffin too bad couse i really liked it to[/quote][/quote] 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10! *Gives thread mouth to mouth* *repeats* *sniff* I'm callin it dead.12/13/08 10:04 PM central time... 8:04 Bungie time.
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  • PavedLow

    PavedLow

    12/1/2008 3:28:41 AM Permalink
    Don't lose faith! It may again rise from the dead... [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Deathinaitor and so this story is laid to rest with the stain of unfinshed-ness on its coffin too bad couse i really liked it to[/quote]
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  • Deathinaitor

    Deathinaitor

    11/21/2008 12:42:36 PM Permalink
    and so this story is laid to rest with the stain of unfinshed-ness on its coffin too bad couse i really liked it to
  • Enkrypt3d

    Enkrypt3d

    11/19/2008 3:01:06 AM Permalink
    [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Kilroy Rare, Spartan, If you finally post the final chapter, I will let you see your moms again. But know this, your fathers will never again be able to satisfy them. BTW, it seems someone else has managed to make your [url=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yu_moia-oVI]machinama[/url] already....[/quote] Haha nice one you nearly got me there... ^^ But I managed to look at the heading before it [url=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yu_moia-oVI]loaded[/url]. Thank you, Dial-Up connection
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