Donny Bonny came in to school the first day... wore sandals and it was all downhill from there. since then he has remained in the bowels of the school. eating the scraps left after lunch time before wandering back to his house to drown his mind in world of warcraft. eventually he became to large to fit out the door and starved to death. he was only a lvl 51...

That has nothing to do with my story.

[quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Colonel Corbec That has nothing to do with my story.[/quote] nope. it dosnt. good story BTW

Thanks. I don't know whether I'll put out another part tomorrow, depends on how events unfold. Nevertheless, come Thursday I will be on Half term, and I'll definitely be able to put this into production full-time.

[b]The Prodigal Son.[/b] Pyroshark finally picked up the pistol. He wasn’t quite sure what to do. All of the options he had led to him dying. Could he hide in the pod that had been used to bring his memories back? He had checked it though roughly and found no apparent hole sin it, and guessed it that it was airtight, but what then? Climb into the pod and suffocate as he was trapped in a stony world of darkness, his body never to be found? He had ran around The Seventh Column several times, desperately looking for any escape route, but finding none. Eventually, he just gave up, realising that the inevitable shouldn’t be fought. He sat down at the table, and picked up the pistol, trying to stop his nerves from making his aim shake so much. Slowly, he opened his mouth and prepared to pull the trigger. There was a loud bang, and pressmark thought that he’d fired. He quickly opened the clip and realised that he hadn’t. For a moment, he sat bemused, but his eyes widened as he realised what this must mean. “Could it be?” He asked himself, got up and ran for the door. He closed his eyes wishing for it to be so, and it was. A large hole had been blown in the side of The Seventh Column’s massive concrete dome. At long last, Undergroundica had managed to blow its way through Money Marine Mountain to get to their goal. Ironic that it would be at the moment before it turned into a death trap. Pyroshark kept low, and followed the side of the dome around to another doorway where he could be closer to the breach but with a better view. Rappel lines dropped out of the side and black armoured soldiers began to descend them, knocking aside stary stones and rock. Pyroshark watched them intently, a dozen of them in all, as they split into two groups of six and went in opposite directions, leaving the rappel lines behind them to inspect the base. Pyroshark quietly ran the long distance between his position and the breach, keeping low, keeping quiet, keeping to the edge of dome. Fortunately without attracting the attention of the intruders. He reached the ropes, which were doubtless guarded at the top. However, he had a plan to get up there. Three guards were gathered around the breach entrance, each one well armed and equipped. “Hey, what’s that?” One asked. He pointed out a rope that was swinging around, as if by itself. His accomplices shrugged and gestured for him to check it out whilst they covered him. Sighing, the man crept over to the edge and peeked over. Pyroshark hurled the chunk of concrete with all his might into the soldiers face. The man toppled over the side, and Pyroshark rapidly scaled the rope he had been holding onto. The two soldiers remaining had crowded over as their accomplice had disappeared from sight, a big mistake. Pyroshark jumped the last of the rope, and made it onto the ledge. Stunned by this sudden arrival, the soldiers didn’t react as Pyroshark grabbed their weapon arms and pulled the triggers on their guns for them. Knowing that more enemy soldiers would be on their way, Pyroshark took their guns and ammunition, and set off into the mountain, desperate to get out before everything here was transformed into rock by a cloud of nanites. [i]Three Weeks and Two Days Later.[/i] Gamerz Property used her hand to brush away a stray strand of hair from her face and behind her ear and sorted out her speech for the umpteenth time. After all, the lead presenter for such an important story as this had to be in the best shape, this would be going down in history. News teams scrambled around off the scene, rushing this way and that to fulfil their tasks as quickly as possible, because no one in the entire studio wanted to miss Gamerz announcement to the nation over Channel 7 news. The Undergroundican capital had been surrounded days before, and special confirmation had come down from the front that the enemy’s last stronghold had been officially taken. It had been the most bloody and costly war on the planet thus far. Once General Guscon had been killed on the Front Lines, enemy resistance crumbled apart and a Floodian counter-strike across the entire front had sent the enemy fleeing. With a complete control of the skies, and a rapidly moving Floodian army on the ground, Undergroundican forces had never been allowed to concentrate their strength and regroup. Instead they were hounded and frittered away by constant air strikes and ambushes, not to mention hopeless counter attacks under the command of unskilled commanders. No one was left in Undergroundica with the tactical genius as Guscon, and by the time Floodian soldiers marched over the border, the war was as good as decided. Upwards of 25 million people had died in three weeks. The red light on the camera winked and switched to green, and the cameraman gave the thumbs up go ahead. Gamerz opened her mouth to speak what would be immortal words…and disappeared [Edited on 10/15/2006]

Oh, come on! Where is my readership?

Here's one! Lol. Corbec, I'm constantly impressed by the talent you have for description. Keep it up.

[quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Colonel Corbec [b]The Insertion.[/b] The moon looked down on it all. A hazy, thick blanket tucked in close to the ground, as though it were a duvet warming up a child in winter months. From simply looking at the moon, and the sparkling mass of stars clustered above and beyond it, you wouldn’t know a war was on. Looking lower, and if you knew they were actually knew they were there in the first place, a trio of black, almost invisible planes glided seemingly without effort above the low level cloud layer. A larger transport plane, accompanied by a pair of smaller, sleeker escorts. On command, the two escort fighters peeled off from the transport, that was startlingly quiet for its size, and flared their afterburners. Specks of light amongst the dark they sped off east, towards a monumental battle in the skies, where jets screamed around at ridiculous speed, engaging one another in elegant rolls and dives, blasting away at one another in a deadly aerial combat. Quietly, the transport carried on without an escort, confident that the greatest in radar spoofing technology and stealth equipment would keep it hidden. But what really mattered was within the plane itself. Secured firmly by strong magnetic locks that were connected to a pair of rails stood a bipedal machine, fully the size of two men with one man standing on the first’s shoulders. It was expected to be the last fully operational unit of its kind in this entire region, or so intelligence said. Red markings that had once adorned it’s armour had been replaced with the occasional blue stripe, but little broke the jet black coating besides the single large, bright red eye and a pair of smaller ones to the left of it on the metal rectangle that assumed the place of a head. A handful of mechanics and technicians dashed around, running last minute checks on armour and weaponry, especially the most potent of all armaments. The weapon in question was literally the latest of all developments. “The most secret and devastating device in development for this decade” many heralded it. Mounted onto the right shoulder, it was tubular with a circular cooling device attached to the back of the weapon. A technician had affectionately painted on a snarling set of teeth around the muzzle, and no one had wanted them removed. The interior hold was illuminated by a pair of baleful red lights on either side of the mechanical masterpiece, two of the technicians secured their equipment in specially prepared places and ran to seats and strapped themselves down whilst the third jogged to the rear of the craft, where the bay door stood closed. The man secured himself with a short tether and grasped the lever controlling the door. He looked up to the bipedal machine, shook his head and pulled the lever. Suddenly, the interior was filled with noise and the temperature dropped like a stone as the whooshing, freezing exterior found a way into the craft. Fighting the biting cold wind, the mechanic hit a red button, and with a deafening [i]clang[/i] the magnetic locks uncoupled and the machine raced along the rails and out of the hatch of the plane, falling away into the darkness. After a moment of free-fall the machine hit the cloud layer and carried on going, the thick layers of cloud parting like paper. It punched out the other side, and the pilot inside it immediately took stock of the locations below the vehicle. Breathing through a gas mask that fed him a constant supply of Combat Stimulants, the adrenaline inducing gases made his senses as sharp as that of any computer. The machine was heading towards the river bank opposite the ruins of Floodlin. From here, the man inside could see pinpricks of flame dotting the area, marking out where enemy artillery pieces had made their homes, but one stood out. A gargantuan column of flame made an impossible target to miss, and the machine rolled over to get a better angle of descent toward it. General Guscon was taking a tour of the front lines, accompanied by a handful of other Undergroundican leaders, and a force of bodyguards, he had come via a convoy of staff cars and Half-Track tanks to this, the greatest piece of military engineering he was likely to ever see, [i]The Marathon[/i]. He emerged, clapping wholeheartedly from a improvised bunker after he had witnessed the firing of his most potent artillery piece. “Excellent work! Where was that shell aimed at?” He shouted, ears ringing from the blast. “A concentration of Floodian forces in the east of the city, General. It is bizarre, the enemy gathers in large numbers, but does not strike our forces trapped in the city.” Replied a young adjutant. It angered Guscon, but he nonverbally admitted the young soldier was right. The entire reason that he had come to the frontlines in the first place was because of the disastrous turn of events in the enemy city. In the space of a few hours, Undergroundican troops in the city had been surrounded, cut off from the river and home, and were now being herded into an ever shrinking perimeter. It was hoped that by his arriving, the troops would rally and gain much needed morale. Guscon had a sinking feeling that Floodland no longer cared about the collection of forces stuck in the city-a full two thirds of the units in the entire sector-but cared more about striking out across the river. “What is [i]that[/i]?” Guscon asked, pointing out a slight patch of movement amongst the night. “It’s coming right for us. Quick! Get the convoy tanks! Hurry!” The adjutant shouted, panic in his voice. Shells and bombs were never that big, so something far worse must be en route, it would seem. The pilot had waited until the very last moment, with alarms bleeping and wailing all around. Relishing every moment of danger, he finally triggered the chemical boosters in the legs of the walking tank. With a slam far more powerful than any shell, the jets that folded out of the legs roared with the strain, nearly shearing off their positions with the energy of the halt. With his velocity slowed sufficiently, the pilot released the thrusters, and the now useless devices, along with the empty fuel tanks, sprang off the walker as explosive bolts attaching them detonated. The walker dropped to the muddy ground, sending clumps of semi-solid earth flying. The pilot had landed in one of [i]The Marathon’s[/i] firing pits, huge holes in the ground, dug with three tunnels leading in different directions. One heading West with a large railway to accommodate The Marathon and a similar one heading East. Another subterranean tunnel came from the North with a dirt road constructed for ammunition transport. But it wasn’t ammunition vehicles heading towards him, it was a quartet of Half-Track tanks with Heavy Machineguns bolted onto their hulls. They didn’t get a chance to fire. The Mech hefted it’s arms, and the two chain guns on each arm began to take them down. Rapid pelts of bullets rained down on the slowly advancing tanks, and their paper thin armour was torn apart in seconds, each one detonating as bullets ground through them, setting off ammunition, petrol or both. With the immediate threat out of the way, the walking tank turned to find the [i]real[/i] target. A truck filled with shells the size of houses next to the hulking Marathon, a pile of rail stock, there it was. The walker broke out into a run as it spotted around a dozen figures trying to sneak away, and they looked suspiciously like Undergroundican staff officers. One in particular looked like General Guscon. But a buzzing filled the area and suddenly, a Helicopter Gunship burst over a side of the firing pit, blasting immediately with everything it had. The Mech shrugged off the blaze of gunfire as though it were light rain, and brought the flying machine down in a return salvo. As the Helicopter fell, the Mech jumped up, landing before the fleeing party of Undergroundicans, and mowing them down, rendering the defenceless enemy into lumps of bloody meat and tatters of clothes. To finish the job, the pilot whipped the seemingly invulnerable walker around and charged up the wonder weapon. As if from nowhere, blue dots of light began to appear around the gun muzzle weapon. The Mech planted its feet firmly, and steadied itself as the blue dots were sucked into the gun itself. The temperature of the barrel soared, and the circular cooling device hissed superheated steam as it tried to keep up with the heat, if the weapon grew too hot, it would fuse and explode, not something that should be allowed to happen. With a blinding flash like a star exploding, the weapon discharged, and a crackling blue stream of energy scythed across the barrel of The Marathon, cutting it off entirely. The pilot changed the angle, and the beam vaporised a pack of terrified crewmen. The pilot turned the weapon slightly, and touched off a truckload of highly explosive shells. The entire area shook as though an Earthquake had arrived, and the shells exploded simultaneously, throwing lighter objects, humans and debris into the air. Feet planted firmly, the mech simply rode out the blast, and watched with satisfaction as [i]The Marathon[/i] was lifted off it’s tracks for a moment and crashed on its side with a screech of torn metal. Behind his gas mask, Corbec smiled at the destruction. “Mission Accomplished.” [/quote] you seriously think i am going to read all of this?

Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant! Good writing :)

It's good to see that there are some readers out there. And as for the mad hero, yes, I do.

YAAAAA!! MORE!!!!! IS THER GONA BE LIKE...10 STORIES??? :D

Um. Well, maybe, but ther is the law of diminishing returns to take into account. Then there's the fact I have no idea whatsoever to do once this is over with.

how long did all of that typing take?

Not long. As I type this with one hand, I'm typing the story with the other. At the same time. Not really.

[b]The Emperor.[/b] Colonel Corbec woke up in a flash, he detested sleeping, reasoning that he would have more than enough time to sleep when he was dead. He rubbed his forehead thoughtfully and opened his eyes. He was sitting at the long dining table in, where was it? Ah, yes, Villa Borghese. The Villa Borghese was a large mansion on one of Floodland’s southernmost Islands, deep in the Mediterbungian sea. Built centuries before for the Royal Family, the Villa was actually on an extinct volcano, but one that had eventually had an island built up around it over thousands of years. The Villa had been renovated to keep up with the latest threats, and the old brick walls, whitewashed with stucco were now beefed up on the inside with Titanium and Concrete, watched over by an underground bunker packed with hundreds of Intelligence Agents and surveillance technology fresh from the factory. Two floors tall, it had a swimming pool at the back, and a large garden. The Villa itself was cordoned off by tall brick walls secretly filled with concrete. The idyllic island made an excellent place to party out of the prying eyes of the press, and that’s what Corbec had done last night. Accompanied by some of the most important Socialites in the country, such as Khortez and his wife, lilshorty6478, he and Sally Sabar had thrown a huge party to celebrate Floodland’s victory over Undregroundica. With the exception of a few fanatical diehards in the north, Undergroundica was compliant, and now part of the newly founded Floodian Empire, headed by none other than “Emperor Corbec” himself. Corbec looked around the dining room. A high, oak beamed ceiling and several ornate chandeliers looked down on the group of snoring celebrities and millionaires. Below, either on highly decorated settees or at the dining table seats, dignitaries and other socially important figures slept off the vast amounts of alcohol they had consumed the night before. Corbec had had hardly anything, and as such had been able to amuse himself by watching the drunken antics of everyone else. He’d almost been forced to restrain Sally to stop her from dancing on the table with lilshorty at one point. He rubbed the wedding ring on his finger and smiled. It had been there for only two days but it felt like forever since he and Sally had got together. “Corbec.” Said a voice from the balcony behind him, and Corbec stood up, pulling free the handgun secretly hidden under the table. He clicked off the safety, and Sally woke in an instant. She looked around and spotted the figure on the balcony. “Why hello there… Don’t I recognise you?” The figure said, noticing Sally. “Pyroshark, you tosser. I thought you got vaporised by a Nuclear Weapon back at Money Marine Mountain.” Corbec spat, keeping the pistol aimed at the person standing before him. “Is he a threat to our position of power?” Sally asked, drawing a knife out of her tights. Corbec was surprised she could be acting like this, given the amount of beer she’d knocked back, she probably had the biggest hangover on the planet. “Possibly, but lets hear what the dumb-tard has to say.” Corbec spoke quietly to avoid waking any guests. “I swear I know your girl from somewhere.” Pyroshark carried on. “Alright, waste him.” Corbec said. “No! Wait, I have something you will want to know.” Pyroshark announced, and Sally stopped her move to throw her knife at him. “I have been travelling the country for three weeks almost for you, Corbec, all to tell you this-” “Cut the bloody theatrics.” Corbec said, itching to shoot the last remaining person who knew of how he came to the throne. “It’s a long story, but I’ll cut it short. These… people lived underneath Money Marine Mountain, and rescued me from Government House before a nuclear explosion blew it all apart.” Pyroshark began. “But you had an arm shot off, from what I last saw.” Corbec interrupted. “Yes, but ignore that point. Anyway, these people lived in a subterranean complex called The Seventh Column. They have technology like nothing you can imagine, but they’re evil. They have discovered something called the “Internet.” This thing they have found links two worlds together, this world, and another one. They plan to pass through the internet and take over that world, then return with the conquered inhabitants of the second in a massive army to conquer our world as well.” “A far fetched story, Pyroshark. Where do these people plan on going to get to the internet?” Corbec asked sceptically. “Downaport, the Irish capital city.” “Ireland? What the hell is even remotely useful in [i]Ireland[/i]?” Corbec chuckled, amused that something as important as an inter-dimensional portal would be in worthless old Ireland. “Look, put your prejudices aside for a moment, would you? This is serious. Those random disappearances, remember them? You know, like with Gamerz Property on the news, I believe that this is directly linked to their invasion of this other world, perhaps if someone over there dies, then someone here disappears with them.” Pyroshark said, exasperated. “Supposition and what ifs, nothing solid, huh? Pyroshark, I am putting you into a cell, if you resist arrest, or say anything relating to how I came to the throne, I will have your tongue removed and served to my guests on a silver platter.” Corbec threatened, even though Pyroshark seemed unarmed, dishevelled and tired. “Fine, I’m not going to resist, but talk to the people at the Irish Embassy, you’ll see if I’m right from them.” “Xbox Halo Guy, get up here with some security, we have an intruder.” Corbec ordered, and moments later an ornate door swung open, and a pair of well armed and armoured soldiers, faces obscured by full-face helmets marched out. “Take this man to the cells, if he resists or tries to talk, kill him.” Emperor Corbec ordered, and the two soldiers dragged Pyroshark away. As the prisoner departed, Xbox Halo Guy arrived. The chief of both intelligence services, MI5 and MI6, resplendent in a spotless black suit saluted the Emperor and Empress. “You called, sir.” “Yes, how exactly did that man make it past our defences?” Corbec asked. “No, sir. We didn’t even know he was on the premises. My apologies, it’ll never happen again.” Xbox Halo Guy pleaded, knowing that to fail the Emperor was an unhealthy course of action. “Very well. But anyway. I want an MI6 spy satellite to get some pictures of Downaport in Ireland, I also want a call to our embassy in Downaport and another call to the Irish Embassy in Flondon. Now.” Corbec ordered, allowing anger to slip into his tone. “Yes sir.” Xbox Halo Guy said and scampered off. “So you’re taking that man seriously?” Sally asked, following Corbec as he walked out to the balcony. The morning sun was peeking over the horizon, glinting off the sea and silhouetting a pack of clouds off in the distance. The breeze was gentle and warm out here, just the way Corbec liked it. “I think the man’s a tosser, but yes. And frankly the prospect of being able to invade this other world myself is exciting. We could be the first leaders of an inter-planetary Empire, think about that and tell me it doesn’t get you excited.” Corbec said, looking out to sea. “Did I know him, back before I lost my memory?” Sally asked, curious. “Possibly, to be honest the first time I saw you, you were out cold, so I couldn’t ask you at the time.” Corbec joked, and Sally smiled. “What if the guests were listening to us?” Sally said, leaning back on the balcony railing with her elbows, dropping her voice. “Then they board a seaplane, heading for the coral reefs for a swim when their plane explodes in a tragic accident.” Corbec smiled, turning to Sally. She smiled back. [Edited on 10/15/2006]

[quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Ikwa Donny Bonny came in to school the first day... wore sandals and it was all downhill from there. since then he has remained in the bowels of the school. eating the scraps left after lunch time before wandering back to his house to drown his mind in world of warcraft. eventually he became to large to fit out the door and starved to death. he was only a lvl 51...[/quote] NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooo......

Ahm. Could you stick to the topic?

EDIT: Okay, I finally read it all. A damn fine peice of work, as usual; I'm looking forward to mid-term myself, and the prospect of having a new addition to this story every other day just makes things better! =) -Pyroshark- [Edited on 10/15/2006]

You are on The Emperor. Anyone seen Sid Sabre around?

[quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Pyroshark EDIT: Okay, I finally read it all. A damn fine peice of work, as usual; I'm looking forward to mid-term myself, and the prospect of having a new addition to this story every other day just makes things better! =) -Pyroshark-[/quote] Yes, it'll be quite the change actually having time to breath, unlike the work-filled hell of school.

I'm married to khortez? There.

Hey guys! Sorry for the long period of silence. Ive been on vacation in California for a week. Yay! The Flood 4! Its brilliant!! I love it so far. And... (ahem) *wink* I knew it... hehe [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Colonel Corbec He rubbed the wedding ring on his finger and smiled. It had been there for only two days but it felt like forever since he and Sally had got together. [/quote] Keep up the excellent work!! :)

Well...Yeah, I needed something to fill up space... Ahem. And yes Shorty, you are married to khortez and thank you for posting on here.

[b]The Electrified Irish.[/b] The lift ground to a stop, and the solid metal doors parted. The dozens guards along the sides of the corridor saluted in unison. With Corbec leading the way, The Emperor and Empress of Floodland disembarked the lift, with a pair of heavily armoured escorts following behind them. The two most important people in the entire country strolled along, Sally in an elegant, flowing blue dress and Corbec in an immaculate suit. They moved past the guards at the lift, following the concrete corridor and taking a right turn and reaching a guard post. The guard post took up fully half of the specially widened corridor, and stood before a vast, circular iris with easily visible sections that retracted into the wall when opened. The guard post was essentially a concrete box but with a reinforced glass window looking out onto the corridor and a solid steel door on the side to allow access to the corridor. “Emperor Corbec, Empress Sabar, how may I serve you?” Asked the senior guard in the post, his voice bypassing the glass via a microphone. “The Empress and I wish to see that Irish bloke, the one that was recently captured?” Cobrec replied. “Certainly, sir, but what is that you have with you?” The soldier asked, pointing to a sheaf of papers the Emperor was holding onto. “If I told you, I would have to kill you.” Corbec replied. The man gulped and went to operate a gate control panel. “Have a nice day, sir.” The soldier said as the two members of royalty advanced. “Stay here.” Sally said, and the two escorts stopped where they were and took up positions around the guard post. The Iris parted, dozens of little titanium segments were pulled into the wall and out of the circular entrance that it blocked. The Emperor and Empress were in the prison area, in one of the deepest and most secure parts of the entire underground bunker attached to the Villa Borghese. Their guests had been sent on a Sea Plane to a trip to the coral reefs off the island’s coast, but would never make it. A hole had been drilled into the air tanks on the plane, and now the air circulation system would be releasing Carbon Monoxide into the cabin. They wouldn’t even make it halfway there. The prison area was simply a long corridor, with cells all along one side. They were spacious and separated from the outside by strong, thick glass windows, and anyone on the outside could talk with those on the inside via an intercom system and vice versa. Given the secrecy of the place, most cells were empty, though there were a few inmates. Here, there was an Undergroundican terrorist who had tried to find Corbec here and assassinate him, thus ending Imperial rule of Undergroundica. There were a few more of the like here. As the duo walked by, someone whistled appreciatively at Sally, followed by: “How much does she cost, Emperor?!” They stopped in their tracks. The culprit was a serial killer who had fled mainland Floodland, stolen a boat and driven to here by accident. The man had been detained and declared dead, Corbec just needed time to decide what to do with him. “I said how much does she cost? I guess she must be pretty expensive.” The man chuckled. “Sally, do want to do the honours?” Corbec asked. “Certainly.” She smiled. Sally opened a panel next to the cell window and flicked some switches. There was a [i]vooom[/i] as something built up a charge, and the murderer looked around, the humour gone from his face. Corbec and Sally carried on walking as electrical nodes built into the wall of the killers cell activated and unleashed lethal, crackling blue jolts of electricity into the cell. The further away they got, the quieter the sounds became, but the smell of smoke followed close behind. Eventually the two reached the cell they were looking for. “Oi, prick.” Corbec shouted, and Pyroshark sat up from his small bed. “What?” Pyroshark murmured. “Give him a jolt please.” Corbec said to Sally, and she again flicked a few switches. There was a momentary flash of light and Pyroshark cried out in pain. “Awake?” Corbec asked. Pyrosahrk was rolling around on the floor, massaging his body where electricity had found him. He didn’t reply but for a whimper. “Now, look Pyroshark, we can talk like civilised beings or just keep zapping you. Personally I’m inclined to take the second option, but it would seem we might need you for this.” Corbec spat. “What?” Pyroshark asked, getting up. “I just got in touch with the Irish Embassy in Flondon. According to them, they haven’t had contact with their homeland for dead on a week now, the exact same time that we lost connections with our Embassy in Ireland’s capital city, Downaport. A spy satellite also picked up this.” Corbec explained, and held out an A4 picture of a massive cloud concentration, pressing it to the wide window of the cell. “What’s that?” Pyroshark asked, trying to make out anything beneath the clouds. “Ireland. A massive cloud formation appeared above it at approximately the same time as we lost contact with our embassy and the Irish one with the mainland. I’m going to Ireland with Sally and a couple of squads of my army’s best. I’m going to take you along just in case what you’re yapping about is true. We leave first thing tomorrow. Understand?” Pyroshark nodded in confirmation. “Come on then, lets go.” Corbec said, turning and marching off. “Hey, Corbec?” Sally called after him, standing by the control panel to the cell. “Yes?” “Can I?” “Oh, all right, but make sure he can walk, we may well need him for tomorrow. And don’t stay down here for too long!” Corbec ordered, and carried on, passing the now frazzled murderer on his way out. Corbec shut down the system, there was no need to keep electrifying a dead body. Back down the corridor, Sally turned the electrical system in Pyroshark’s cell on, and laughed heartily as the person inside yelped and danced around in pain.

I might not be ablle to turn out another part tomorrow. I can't say for sure, but it seems that I might well be going to a Laserquest party to shoot ten-year-olds.

Good job. [i]Flondon[/i], heh, thats pretty good. Wow, I guess I really don't like Pyroshark do I? ;) Well, have fun shooting ten-year-olds. Lucky. :)