View Full Version : The never ending aircraft story.. NEAS

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05-01-2007, 12:59 PM
Idea stolen of course from another forum.. http://forums.ubi.com/groupee_common/emoticons/icon_biggrin.gif

Add your own original material to the story as long as you like and try to tie it into the last posters bit..

"Heinrich Busselfootganger rose from his bed. The days mission to bomb london was to begin soon. He really wasn't up for this mission whatsoever since he had a massive hangover and very swollen unmentionables from the party in town all night long with some really friendly French ladies who wouldn't take no for an answer....

05-01-2007, 01:10 PM
...though they did take cash. Heinrich hoped that another visit to the flight surgeon wasn't in the offing. Still, money well spent...

05-01-2007, 01:27 PM
Heinrich put on his flight suit and stumbled down the path to the Chowen Hallen. Perhaps some Bratwurst, fried eggs and coffee would clear his head. Hopefully, Bruno, the tail gunner, was carrying the Scnapps flask he usually took on missions....

05-01-2007, 02:04 PM
Near the door Snauzy the Dashhund jumped up against his boots and barked of joy. Heinrich coudn't enjoy it much since the barking made his head ache even more....

05-01-2007, 02:17 PM
As Heinrich entered the hallen, he spotted Bruno at one of the tables, studying his signed copy of "Rear gunnery: How to win the war" by Oleg Maddox, as he did before every mission...

05-01-2007, 02:22 PM
"I won't be taking it from behind today," said Bruno as he closed the book on Rear Gunnery.
"well, bottoms up to that," replied Heinrich, sinking a hot cup of Joe.

05-01-2007, 02:49 PM
As the boiling ersatz filled his stomach, Heinrich wondered exactly why the Luftwaffe had tail gunners like Bruno, yet no planes mounting a tail gun.
"No matter", he thought, "surely, this is all part of the Fuhrer's plan.."

05-01-2007, 07:14 PM
He was shocked to find that the machine gun had been installed inside the plane, pointing to the rear! Bruno said that, at the right time, he'd make his own hole and surprise the Britisher Pigs.

05-01-2007, 08:40 PM
later, the crew is caught unawares having schnapps, secure that jsut beign german is protection enough.........





a close shave! but another potential disaster averted!

they carry on the mission.........

05-02-2007, 02:23 AM
Heinrich could make out London straight ahead from the glint of sunlight off the Pearly Queens' outrageous costumes, as they were engaged in another right old cockerny knees-up.

"Kuntz!" he yelled, but the bomb aimer, engrossed in his copy of Betjeman's greatest works' studiously ignored him.

"Kuntz, are you ready to drop them?".....

05-02-2007, 03:37 AM
lol nice topic ))

sry for the brake here carry on fellows

05-02-2007, 03:53 AM
Kuntz, are you ready to drop them?

Kuntz looked tro the bombsight and saw nothing but black !,?!!

He looked again .... The same black !! scheise verdamd nochmal!

he yelled back to Heinrich " I cant aim the damn thing ... its BLACK "

AH !! yelled Heinrich "Put of your sunglasses "

05-02-2007, 04:00 AM
Bruno scoffed at Kuntz' apparent incompetancy....

Kuntz finally peered through the looking glass, and below England's green pastures became clear.

"ok ok, I've got it!" exclaimed Kuntz "Altitude?!"

Heinrich "3,000!"

Kuntz "Speed!?"

Heinrich " 250.... no wait... 300? Sheisse I forgot the TAS formula!"

heinrich Quickly Alt+tabbed into Windows to open his TAS converter program...

"290!" he cheered.

05-02-2007, 04:07 AM
"Two ninety!" Yelled Heinrich. "Have you got that, you stupid Kuntz?"

05-02-2007, 06:15 AM
"Jawohl!" chorused the rest of the Kampfgeshwader.

Heinrich had forgotten to select push-to-talk in his TS settings.

But the alt/tabbing delay had caused Kuntz to entirely miss the dockyards, and as they Carried on Up the Thames, the crosshairs moved inexorably towards Slough...

05-02-2007, 06:31 AM
Where the crew spotted a Lancaster secretly dropping bombs on a chicken farm.

"Churchill, fat pig, is behind this", screamed Heinrich.

Bruno, stepped forward, flask in hand, cigarette in mouth. "Ja, don't forget, Mein Kapitan, we have our own fat pig, Hermann!" He raised his flask and took a long swig. He passed the flask to Heinrich.

"Here is to the fat pig leaders", said Heinrich, taking his nip.

"And to the dumb Kuntz", deadpanned Bruno.....

05-02-2007, 06:42 AM
And thus began the Blitz....

05-02-2007, 07:50 AM
Unkown to Heinrich and his ill fated crew their passage had been noted by Edith Cranburrysmithshire of the Womens Volunteer Observer and knitting Corp.
The regional WVOKC controller quickly conntacted Duckford inflatable aeordrome.
Within minutes Squadron Leader Dougie Vader, who was back in command with his new prosthetic plywood head following an unfortunate drinking accident, gathered the flight commanders of his big whinge.....

05-02-2007, 08:39 AM
"Now look here chaps, cabbage crates o'er teh briney so buckle up and may teh force be with you."

And so it was that the young farm hand Luke, his fear hidden behind an unshakeable belief in the superiority of Malin County special effects, first climbed into a Hawker Siddley Uber Fighter, teh Hurricane.

05-02-2007, 09:03 AM
to gird himself for battle, he drew upon his latent anger stemming from a confrontation with his flight commander, who had forbade him to travel to Yardley Station, to pick up some power convertours...

05-02-2007, 10:08 AM
As he went through his startup proceedures, Luke consoled himself with the fact that the average Ju-88 couldn't be much bigger than two metres. He felt sure he could hit one, due to his extensive experience in bullseyeing Wombles in his WC back home...

05-02-2007, 01:23 PM
(As his squadron take's of from bigging hill

to the hell above)

He noticed that his guns where empty !
He was suprised ,upset,angry al in once when sudenly ...........

05-02-2007, 01:28 PM
through the grace of Aunt Millie's magic mushroom soup, he heard his old instructor yelling "Feel m' arse, Luke." And he proceeded to disconnect his gun sight.

05-02-2007, 02:34 PM
Next he took the cowling off the engine and started disconecting important looking stuff from inside the engine bay, occassionally referring to a napkin he'd found marked "Veally Geheim-LuftSchtuff!!!."
"This thing should go like a rocket after these mods," thought Luke to himself. Then he noticed the squadron had taken off without him.


05-02-2007, 04:09 PM
A while later, a Yank arrived. He joined the RAF and read a book about Hurricanes. He climbed into one and shot down 37 German aircraft in one mission and returned with ammo left over. After a Coke and a cheeseburger w/fries, he returned to the skies and shot down another 15 before supper.

The lad's name was Steve....Steve Spielberg...

Just then, a hardened RAF Master Sergeant approached Lefttenant Spielberg and said, "Ah, excuse me, suh, what is that bit hangin' about your neck?"

To which Spielberg replied....

05-02-2007, 04:29 PM
"Um, buddy, please speak English! You know, like, American English? Got it?"

To which the Seargent replied...

05-02-2007, 05:15 PM
"Wel old chap i dont want to be rude, But i believe that english is from england ? and tell me now wat is that bit around you neck"

And Lefttenant Spielberg replied ...

05-02-2007, 05:44 PM
"Oh that old thing. It's a German medal. I won it off of some guy in a drinking contest when I was touring Bavaria with my band before the war.

He was a bad loser, I'm afraid, and things got a bit nasty - threats an' all that stuff. He reckoned he'd find me and win it back one day. That's why I had 'Come and get it Kuntz!' painted on the side of my Hurricane.

"I see suh" said the sergeant "Great name for a band that, 'Before The War' - fink I got yer first album in the 'ouse sumwhere..."

Suddenly the awkward conversation was loudly interrupted by

05-02-2007, 06:21 PM

Excuse me

05-02-2007, 06:34 PM

05-02-2007, 06:45 PM
Suddenly the awkward conversation was loudly interrupted by the sound of the squadron alarm bell being rung and the c.o. yelling to everyone that a raid was in progress and to get the squadron off the ground immediately to meet it...

05-03-2007, 02:07 AM
..and at the third time of asking, Luke climbed back into the cockpit.

With his squadron now mere specs in the distance, and wondering how he was going to catch them, Luke asked his AI co-pilot, C3B4, to take over.

C3B4 selected Dr R.A.Aid's anit-grav modification from the stolen Veally Geheime LuftStuff napkin drop-down menu, and the Hurricane lerched vertically into the air.

"ZOMFG" gasped Luke,

"Flob-a-dob-a-dub-a-dob...Weeeed" agreed the shark-like Robot attachment behind him, his head mounted Laser beam scanning the sky behind him for Vultures....

05-03-2007, 02:24 AM
Unseen by Luke, Obergruppenfuhrer Hanz Kochmeister's Bf-109 was swooping down out of the sun. The DB601 engine wailed as he approached his gun convergence range....

05-03-2007, 04:01 AM
it was a source of constant fury to Kochmeister that no matter how hard he gunned the engine the gun convergence range always remained 150m infront of his sleek deutschflugkampfwagen.
"Donner und blitzen!" He shreaked in rage.
Then the phone rang...

05-03-2007, 04:20 AM
It was his wife asking what he wanted for dinner when he came back.

"Gib mir ein Wienerschnitzel!" he replied and hung up.

Right infront of Kochmeister's BF-109 a....

05-03-2007, 05:48 AM
...an unsuspecting Flying Orifice Luke came into range.

"Und now..." said Kochmeister, combing his hair and leaning forward to peer through the gunsight. "Prepare fur ze Wurst!"

05-03-2007, 06:10 AM
"Makka pakka appa yakka" warned C3B4, and Luke reefed the Hurricane into a rather pretty chandelle.

Kochmeister's tracers whipped harmlessly past.

"That's some of the wurst shooting I've ever seen" laughed Luke, as he...

05-03-2007, 06:13 AM
...went into a steep dive toward the Channel, thus ending all Star Wars references forever...

05-03-2007, 06:20 AM
Leia, Princess of Wales and holder of a most Danish looking hair-do looked on from her vantage point high up on a white cliff near Dover...

05-03-2007, 06:28 AM
was thinking about her affair with Adolf Galland when suddenly...

05-03-2007, 06:43 AM
...a stiff breeze got up and messed up her hair, and the storyline.

Leia sighed, and, catching sight of Kochmeister above, whipped out her...

05-03-2007, 06:53 AM
..Tiger tank. She threw the deadly projectile skywards, but it bounced harmlessly off one of Luke's .50 cals.

05-03-2007, 06:58 AM
"Wow!" Said Breeze, still quite stiff. "That's quite a pitchin' arm you got their little lady, how about you and I go get us a drink?"

Leia considered the offer and...

05-03-2007, 07:30 AM
..with barely a thought about Old lobster breath Galland, who hadn't texted her in like, DAYS, replied,

"Only if you'll join the RAF and help the Empire Stike Back against the cabbage crates" pointing upwards.

"..and get me some nylons while you're at it" she added, sotto voce. "T'gravy browning's givin me gyp"

05-03-2007, 08:30 AM
...Breeze replied "I'll get you the nylons if you promise to wear them with suspenders and no knickers". Leia readily agreed.

They both watched in astonishment as Luke pulled out of the dive at the last moment. The Hurri, unlike a P-51, had kept it's wings attached to the fuselage.

Luke turned to his robot friend and said...

05-03-2007, 09:15 AM
"You f@&ing piece of $4i7 1C AI l0z0r! I coulda' died droid dude."

"Take a pill," said the droid. "AI hax0rz." http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/winky.gif


05-03-2007, 10:05 AM
...was in the middle of his usual tirade about how the fighter jocks got all the glory whilst bomber types like him got ignored, when he saw Luke's Hurricane flash past his window, with absolutley NO LOSS OF ENERGY whatsoever.

"cheating Tommies" exclaimed Heinrich, yanking his joystick hard.

Bruno made a grab for his...

05-03-2007, 11:23 AM
Snapps, He didend belive his eye's

he was thinking ( First spitznoobs no gravity , turn on a dime, no energy loss plane! &"(! --- Now they have hurricane's with concrete wings )

He yelled to Kuntz "i think that we are going to loos againts the englanden piloten , They cheating like zweineh.nden "

Kuntz replied back ....

05-03-2007, 01:19 PM
with a simple "Oh Scheisse!" and...

05-03-2007, 02:18 PM
...put his head between his legs.

"Vere are you fighters?" yelled Heinrich over the RT in a somewhat overwrought manner "Ve need immeadiate assistance!"

Unfortunatley, Gatty Foering had neglected to have the right sort of radio installed in the Jagdwaffe's 109s, so the first Staffelkapitan Kochmeister knew Heinrich's troubles was when...

05-03-2007, 02:35 PM
...he heard a knocke, knocke, knocke on the lid of his canopy and looked up to see Heinie and Bruno looking back at him, the wind blowing through their hair. He felt his joystick stiffen.

"Get off mein fighter, you dumbkopffers, you are ruining my trim!"

"But der britisher Skywalkener offed our Stuka mit his blistering fire, you're our only way home, please don't throw us off."


05-03-2007, 03:25 PM
He looked up and prayed to the ubisoft gods. Please let my aim be as good as AI gunners if I should encounter any opposition

05-03-2007, 03:34 PM
[Training mode]No, you see you have to respond to the post before yours, not the post before the post before yours or any variations there of see or it all just goes out the window and who knows where it might lead; anarchy, monarchy, the fall of civillisation, the apocalypse and so on. So...[training mode/]

05-03-2007, 07:26 PM
The squadron got closer and closer to the english coast. All the gunners in the He-111's tested their guns now and went on hi alert for the english fighters that were sure to intercept them now being alerted well in advance by the english radar system.

05-03-2007, 10:35 PM

back in Japan..

I wooked up an saw a single silver pwane wit 4 engines..

than nothing..

the end


05-04-2007, 12:09 AM
...of innocence was fast approaching for Kuntz, who was floating down on his parachute, idly wondering why they had sent him to be a bomb aimer in a Stuka.

Below he could make out all the Pearly kings and queens, who had stopped their knees-upery to stand and stare at him.

His eagle eye picked out the deserted tube station of Mornington Cresent, and he tried to steer his chute towards it.

05-04-2007, 06:37 AM
..He entered the tube and happened upon a cockney longshoreman. He pulled out his Luger and demanded the Englisher's clothes. After stripping to his shorts and handing his clothes over to Kuntz, the longshoreman said...

05-04-2007, 06:43 AM
..."That birthmark on your neck, that's the mark of a proper Kuntz!" And dropped quickly to his knees.

A shadow fell upon them. "What's all this then!?! You a pair of nancy boys?"

It was the cops, and they had their truncheons out...

05-04-2007, 10:24 AM
"Let's go outside" suggested the slighty Greek looking Longshoreman, Michael. "I know a club where the drinks are free."

Then Wham!; PC Plum laid him out cold.

The two Dibble turned to Kuntz.

" and what's your name Sonny?"

With remarkable prescience, the former bomb-aimer hesitated...

05-04-2007, 10:58 AM
...Kuntz stammered and out came the only English he knew, which came from listening to American radio: "Lucky Strikes means fine tobacco!!" The cops then beat him senseless and dragged him to the nearest hoosegaw.

Meanwhile, Heinrich...

05-04-2007, 11:22 AM
...and Bruno stepped down from the lid of Kochmeister's 109 and scarpered sharpish in a messward direction to avoid his wrath. Kochmeister was fuming, he'd get Luke and his uber-Hurricane with its unbendable wings if it...

05-04-2007, 12:22 PM
meant applying for Galland's special new Staffel.

Heinrich and Bruno settled for a stiffener in the mess before heading off for a rousing night in 'Le Fokker Sale' to forget how much they missed Kuntz.

05-04-2007, 12:23 PM
...Just then, Breeze, flying his tank-busting P-51, radioed Ploughman, in his mighty Spitfire Mark X. "Plough, my good man, do you realize we are the only ones still carrying this bit along? Do let's land somewhere near a pub and get snockered. I have a craving for some bangers and mash with a side of peas and a pint."

Plough radioed back...

05-04-2007, 12:26 PM
"only if they have toast we can put it all on...with a big dollop of "marmite"

he responded

05-04-2007, 02:52 PM
"And watch out for the freakin' Skippies this time, m'kay? They occassionally don't like Seppos and they bite."

Suddenly a new voice crackled over the RT.

"You van't sausage? I mash you up like atom bomba western Allied Nancy boyz!"

Weiner eating von Tagert had arrived in his Me-183 Napkin fighter and he voz lookin' for trouble...

05-04-2007, 03:08 PM
[QUOTE]Originally posted by Daiichidoku:
"only if they have toast we can put it all on...with a big dollop of "marmite"

"Holy Weinersnitzel! I think the British pilots are finally losing their minds" said a luftwaffe intellegence officer monitoring british air to air radio traffic.

I will inform Goring immediately that now is the time to strike London with a maximum all out raid.

Our secret X-gurtz air to air mind jamming radio station is obviously working much better then we could have hoped for!

"Weiner eating von Tagert is engaging them as we speak in the new super secret me-183. Listening to these tommies ramble on about "marmite" and toast he will have no trouble whatsoever notching up a few more kills for our side.. http://forums.ubi.com/groupee_common/emoticons/icon_cool.gif

05-04-2007, 03:18 PM
Originally posted by stalkervision:
marmalade and toast

sorry chum, youre mistaken, marmite is what you may know as Australia's "vegemite"

05-04-2007, 03:36 PM
Throwing his Mee183 into a +25% half roll and dive to avoid a large rent in the storyline contintuum, Grafntraknfuher Von Tagert chuckled to himself...

05-04-2007, 03:41 PM
Originally posted by stathem:

LMFAOPMSL http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/88.gif

05-04-2007, 03:41 PM
Grafntraknfuher Von Tagert chuckled to himself...

Those Tommies will soil their knickers when they see what new totally devestating secret weapons this baby is carrying..

05-05-2007, 05:40 AM
when Bump! he ran into the sound barrier, which had a sign on - "Flying wings Verboten!"

"Dasher and Prancer!" cursed Von Tagert. "Now I vill have to..."

05-05-2007, 03:19 PM
Kick in mein afterburners and show them who is boss! http://forums.ubi.com/groupee_common/emoticons/icon_mad.gif

05-06-2007, 09:10 AM
Von Tagert remembered that his plane could go 110% since the last patch, and hit the uberschnellfahren button. Von Tagert felt a thud before he could hear a voice in the cockpit saying "Prepare to jump to lightspeed". Von Tagert laughed insanely as he saw a Spitfire turn in for a head on attack.....

05-06-2007, 09:57 AM
Me so popular

05-07-2007, 06:34 AM
Just then, Breeze, who had infiltrated the German Officer's Mess with the aid of a stunning blonde Frenchie girl from the Resistance, snuck up on Tagert and hacked his arms off with a meat cleaver.

After beating a hasty retreat, Breeze and blonde French girl, took a break in the hayloft of a barn. The girl looked deeply into Breeze's eyes and said...

05-07-2007, 07:12 AM
'Ooh, M'ssieu - what a big chopper.'

Just then -

05-07-2007, 07:23 AM
she said "But, the image of you and the cow will forever be burned in my memory." She then turned and ran out into the night as the words "me so popular" from Tokeyo Flo's radio show rang in Breeze's ears.....

05-07-2007, 08:15 AM
Hmm, thought Breeze, now what exactly IS Tokyo Flo doing on the radio in France?

Just then, Breeze spotted a Dornier-17 parked by the side of the road. He had never flown one of these before (nor had anyone else he knew). "If I can just start the engines and remember to hit Shift P, I can fly anything," thought Breeze. Breeze managed to get airborne and was heading towards the Channel, when...

05-07-2007, 08:40 AM
The biggest Nazi robot you ever did see loomed into view below. It pointed its' huge...

05-07-2007, 08:55 AM
laces toward the speeding plane, when Ploughman in his mighty Spitfire Mark X also spotted the Do-17 and couldn't believe his great fortune finding such a easy target. He turned towards his prey, lined up for a killing B&Z when

05-07-2007, 09:44 AM
He received an urgent fax from the PM...

05-07-2007, 10:37 AM
informing him the 30 WAAFs he'd enjoyed over the previous fortnight had all elected to go preggers---four of them Air Marshal's daughters, one a Cabinet Minister's daughter, and one the PM's daughter---Ploughman was informed his service revolver was left on his desk and that he was expected to do the decent thing.

05-07-2007, 10:41 AM
Which he did, which was to put down the Squadron Leader's dog which was annoying him tremendously.

05-07-2007, 10:44 AM
That's nice..


Lets get back to me allready!

05-07-2007, 11:03 AM
said Tagert as he flexed his new robot arms.
He was amazed by the craftsmanship of the multitudenous attachments that he could fit. His favourite one was a shiny and lethally sharp blade that he used to...

05-07-2007, 11:05 AM
Tagert smoothly rolled out after buzzing the ramshackle Port Moresby tower right before his P-39's engine suddenly cut-out, thus, forcing him to belly-in right in front of General MacArthur, liberally spraying his khakis with mud and oil.

05-07-2007, 11:06 AM

now try and work in something about the 109 climb rate

05-07-2007, 11:22 AM
His favourite one was a shiny and lethally sharp blade that he used to...

carefully cut pretty cardboard frames to mount his charts in. One such chart had caused such a squabble in high Lufty circles by daring to claim officially accepted climb rates for the Bf 109 were so far out of touch with reality that he was posted to the inconsequential channel front where his outlandish theories could only contaminate two geschwader. One of his detractors was known as...

05-07-2007, 11:31 AM
..."The Brain" to his friends and "Cupcake" to his enemies. The issue between the rivals was rather in consequential in the big picture as there was a war to be fought. Meanwhile.....

05-07-2007, 12:21 PM
...ploughman was considering how to fund his recent baby bada-boom. 'Perhaps a going freelance would be the way forward,' he mused. Grafntrakfuhrer Tagert's repository of fine art and gold bullion lay on the far side of enemy lines just beyond the town of Nancy Bois, if only he could get Big Joe on side it would be the perfect crime....

05-07-2007, 01:25 PM
Unfortunately Big Joe had all the situational awareness of Emile Heskey on acid and kept wandering beyond the last defender.

Ploughman was wondering where he could get hold of a big German flying boat so he could land on Veronica Lake when...

05-07-2007, 01:48 PM
Breeze managed to land the Do-17 near the pub where Ploughman was trying to plan his freelance trip. Breeze staggered into the pub and said....

05-07-2007, 02:00 PM
"I hear you're lookin' for Nancy Bois..."

Ploughman blew the froth from his pint of 'Badger's Arse' and replied....

05-07-2007, 02:26 PM
..."Pull up a chair, mate. This here pub, The **** and Sheep Parts, has some decent bangers and mash."

"I fancy a side of peas, toast and a pint with that.", said Breeze.

Just then, the French blonde that Breeze had almost made love to before the cow entered the scene, walked in and took a seat at their table.

Breathlessly, she said, "I know where zees Nancy Bois is. I will take you there if you do something for me first".

"And what might that be?", Inquired Ploughman.

The blonde looked breifly under the table and then said...

05-07-2007, 02:45 PM
...."Wow this is my lucky day I just found a penny under here and man it sure smells like cow too!" To which the men replied....

05-07-2007, 04:10 PM
"What you blathering about you French Tart? Get these sausages down your neck, then get on the plane sharpish"

"You want me to get on zat big ugly zing again?" she said.

"No" says Ploughman, "....

05-07-2007, 05:49 PM
"Small rodents---er, gerbils---for Pilot Officer Ploughman, will you sign here, sir?" Asked the Royal Mail deliveryman somewhat perplexed as he handed over the sizable crate. "Rodent husbandry, a fine an honorable pastime" Ploughman said nervously, kicking the crate behind a large pile of contraband Lucky Strike cartons.

05-07-2007, 07:18 PM
Lucky for Ploughman the Air Raid sirens began to wail and everyone scurried toward the shelters. This sudden burst of commotion cleared his head and reminded him of his duty as raced outside shaking his bangers skyward at the attacking Jerry's. When suddenly....

05-08-2007, 04:42 AM
...his trouser snake fell out of his crab blues causing a section of WAAFs to faint.

"Crikey," said Breeze; effortlessly falling into early 1940s British vernacular. "Is that reticulated reptile a Boa Constrictor?"

"Yes," replied Ploughman, gathering up his coils. "It's costing me a fortune in gerbils but I've a feeling this here slithery ectotherm'll save our bacon before the day is out. Now let's get out of here before I put any more women on their backs."

That was when...

05-08-2007, 05:55 AM
http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/clap.gif to Ploughman

....Breeze reached behind and pulled a mongoose out his trousers. " What'er the odds of this!?! You with that an me with this! It'll never work we'll have to take separate rides!"

Air Marshall Dowding had been standing nearby and couldn't believe his eyes. One of his pilots was running shaking bangers at the attacking Jerry's when a trouser snake fell out of his pants. While another of his pilot pulls a rodent out of the rear of his. Obviously never is concerned about the attacking Huns.

Not being able restrain himself any longer....

05-08-2007, 06:18 AM
Breeze tackled the Frenchie blonde and had his way right then and there.

He then climbed into his tank-busting Mustang and headed off into the wild blue, Ploughman close behind in his Spitfire Mark X. Breeze's silk scarf flowed out behind him and his leather helmet and goggles were jauntily in place.

Ploughman screamed into his radio, "Close your bloomin' canopy, you silly-arsed twit"!!

They both shouted in unison: "We're off to find Nancy Bois!!"

The blonde, knickers about her shapely ankles, hair and sweater equally askew, looked up at Dowding and said...

05-08-2007, 06:44 AM
...我希望*慢慢*,但快点下地狱。. 舔阴 兔崽*!!!!!!

05-08-2007, 07:00 AM
....to which Dowding replied " calm down girl and speak the Kings English". After gaining some composure the French Girl said "My stomach ieez killing me, that stupid idiot was hung like a flea and wailing my belly buetton." Dowding thought to himself "at least it's not another one gone preggy".

Meanehile back in Nancy Bois....

05-08-2007, 07:13 AM
Herr Lipp of the Gestapo could hear the glorious wail of two Merlins at full chat.

Ploughman and Brezze had arrived, and the intrepid pair were beating up Nancy Bois, looking for somewhere to land.

From the edge of a small thicket, a flashlight was intermittently flashing the Morse for...

05-08-2007, 07:53 AM
"FIELD DIRTY WITH HUNS" in reference to Prinz Saur Kraut in his Ju 88 making an early evening raid on Nancy Bois screeching down in near vertical, releasing four 250kgs right on the shed where Ploughman's contraband was kept. KERBLOOOM. Seeing his entire stock go up in atoms reduced Pman to tears rendering his sightcraft dubious so that his first burst sawed off Breeze's port wing sending him churning into a compost heap at 200 mph. The elated Prinz slammed his throttles forward and bolted for home. "Pleagh" said Breeze finding his cockpit up to the rim in rank, odorous, steaming compost. Salvaging a single bottle of Old Roger ale intact, Ploughman was determined to make the best of a bad business when...

05-08-2007, 08:43 AM
"Knackers!" Thought Ploughman, clearing his eyes and seeing Breeze emerge from the brown stuff, a head mounted and extremely irrate mongoose shaking its little fist. A stirring in his loins reminded him that a timely gerbil or two might off-set future trouble and he reached into his spit's glove box for a rodent only to find...

05-08-2007, 09:01 AM
..the snide serpent had snaffled the last seven of 'em.

Ploughman could see Herr Lipp and his leather coated henchmen fast approaching, and was wondering how to rescue his chum, when he hit upon an idea.

Sliding back the canopy of his Spit, he unravelled the errant trouser snake and lowered it to the foul-smelling Breeze below. Breeze quickly grabbed the snake's head, and clambered up.

Ploughman let out a sharp shout of...

05-08-2007, 09:16 AM
..."mine's a Badger's Arse,' and the cockpit quickly filled with warm beer. He flipped the dextrous Spit on it's back and emptied fifty gallons of ale over stinky Breeze who, as he dangled from Pman's python as the pungent pooey aroma was washed from him, thought to himself "man, I thought Disney World was bad but Europe really sucks."

Kochmeister set his doors to automatic and lined his luftjagdflugkampfwagen up on the...

05-08-2007, 09:21 AM
....the prison walls where his Kuntz was being held captive and waiting for the signal to make his great escape.....

05-08-2007, 03:17 PM
Hans Bitz, the renowned Focker of the Abbeville Boys appeared from 26,000, out of the sun, naturally, with arf a dozen of his mates headed for Ploughman, Breeze and Chutney Squadron, all fat and happy, chugging along in their Spit fives close escorting two Blenheim fours on a Circus run on Calais---when one of the Blenheim boys screeched "##@@!!@##!!%%##!!@@!!!!%%###@@!!!!!%##@@!!!!Wulfs! !!!!!!!! You gets!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" "Yeeeeeeecats, we're @@!!@!##%%##@!!!!!!!!!!!" rejoined a helpful member of Chutney Squadron. "BREAK!!!!!!" yelled Ploughman through the fog of a splitting gin hangover. "AGGGHHHH" rejoined Breeze getting his stick mixed up with his oxygen tube. Before you could say Hummel figurines the shiny, pretty Focke Wulfs were reducing the shiny pretty Spitfires to...

05-09-2007, 02:11 AM
...tears of laughter as the Fokkers fish-flopped like autumn leaves whilst trying to match the Spitfires' break.

Breeze, being in an tank-busting Mustang, howled down after the wildly spinning Butch birds, who took fright at the sight of the deadly ma deuces pointing at them and skeddadled as fast as their beamer engines could carry them.

A sharp nip from the mongoose reminded Breeze that he had left his French squeeze with that old lothario Dowding, and he zoomed back up to escort the shaken, but not stirred, Spits and Blennies home.

At that precise moment, Kuntz, having been freed from his Isle of Man prison by Kochmeister's bombs, was climing aboard a stolen ***** Moth at Ronaldsway airfield, and wondering...

05-09-2007, 03:41 AM
...why he hadn't boosted the Mk. III Meteor next to it instead. The engine started with a sort of farty noise that left him feeling ill at ease but shortly there after Kunz was screaming over Douglas and heading for the Reich at the astonishing rate of almost 14 miles every single hour.

He made a quick calculation, he should be in Britanny by Tuesday. "*****," he thought to himself...

05-09-2007, 05:24 AM
"...all those days being AFK... I have no clue where this story has gone"!

3 days later, Kuntz was finally over the FarterLand when all of sudden....

05-09-2007, 06:00 AM
...caught the unmistakable aroma of 'Ol Badger's Arse, lingering poo and post-sex armpit stink. He knew it was Breeze closing fast in his tank-busting P-51.

Kuntz looked over at his wingman, Heinie Von Bismark, and knew it would soon be either Kuntz or Heinie for Breeze...

Meanwhile, back on terra firma in Old Blighty(?), Ploughman, Dowding, an armless but still game Tagert and the blonde decided to...

05-09-2007, 06:06 AM
..play a celebratory game of black and white twister.

Suffice it to say the armless Tagert was first out.

Back to Kuntz, Heinie, and Breeze...

05-09-2007, 07:05 AM
Breeze couldn't decide whether to nail Kuntz or Heinie when his descision was made for him. Click click click went his guns; he's already spent his load on the butch birds over Belgium.

He high-tailed back toward Biggun Hill. Kuntz turned to chase, but he'd drunk the contents of the *****'s methanol tank and without WEP, the Mustang just about got away.

Kuntz prepared to land the Moth, but he was steadily going blind from the Methanol...

05-09-2007, 07:20 AM
.... Breeze turned on final totally bummed about missing his chance to nail either Kuntz or Heinie. He futher mused about Dowding and the losing the French Tart to his boss. When from 12 O'clock high, screaming out of the sun in a classic B&Z came old lobster breath himself, Adolph Galland with his main squeeze Leia, Princess of Wales, riding gunner in a Bf 110.

Galland laughed with glee as it was like old times and squeezed hard, first on the Princess' firm buttocks then the trigger....

05-09-2007, 08:21 AM
With a firm grasp on his stick, Galland squeezed the knob and released his ammunition all over Breeze's 6.... the unmistakable white tracer fire could be seen for miles.

" *"^& MOTHER $&*(" ")$(& FU$(* IN A $(* YOU "$(*" "(* KRAUT!" sighed Breeze to himself...

Time to hit the silk.

And so it was that Galland scored his 580th kill since the start of the war.

As Breeze floated down to terra firmish...

05-09-2007, 08:29 AM
....Meanwhile Dowding was doing his best to entertain the French Tart:

"I like to call it the 'Dowding spread' you see" he explained. Stretching his arms out to emphasise the point.

"Ta mere suce des ours dans la foret" murmured the French tart.

"Not to be confused with the Marmite spread" he went on. "No no no! Thats another thing entirely!"

"c'est quand que tu t'es fait encul la premire fois?" Enquired French Tart, "Je m'en fous compltement"

"Ah! I see you are a woman of intellect, so let me elaborate." Dowding then went on to give a stinging rebuttal of the Marmite spread, the Park Smear and Douglas Vader Mash. "And as for the much-vaunted Wurst Jam!" he exclaimed, What utter TOSH!"

French Tart was silent through it all, save for the occaisional, "Ne me fais pas avaler a" and "Je n'y crois pas ces conneries. C'est rien que de la *****"

"I say. What a smashing piece of strumpet you are," said Dowding, moving closer to her. Perhaps I could explain the finger-four..."

"Tu pues de la gueule.." Said French Tart huskily, "Tu pues le rat crev. Va te faire enculer"

At that moment, the unmistakable sound of a fast approaching Merlin engine was heard. Dowding and French Tart turned to look....

05-09-2007, 08:45 AM
Great work Feathered! http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/25.gif http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/clap.gif

05-09-2007, 09:15 AM
+1 http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/11.gif

05-09-2007, 11:24 AM
...a Spitfire piloted by Mrs. Dowding came bearing in at treetop level on a strafing run. The Air Marshal was literally caught with his pants down. His driver, Sgt. Benjamin Hill, drove wildly through the exploding clods of mud and pulled up next to Dowding and the tart.

"Benny, get me the hell out of here", a wide-eyed, terrified Dowding shouted.

"What about the Frenchie tart, Suh?", inquired Sgt. Hill.

Dowding looked skyward and spied a parachute floating to earth.

"A stiff Breeze is coming, let him worry about her", hissed a clearly miffed Dowding.

Benny Hill regarded the tart longingly and said...

05-09-2007, 12:40 PM
..."one day I'll make you a star, not a giant fusion powered ball of hydrogen, though gawd knows we've all given ourselves up to them at one time or another, no, not one of those my petal. I Benjamin Hill avow that one day your name'll be in lights t'pon all teh theatres of Shaftsbury Avenue, and I shall be your man/pervert."

Benny pledged this to his French tart even though he knew she was cheaper than a bakerlite toaster for Benny was consumed with the insanity of love and that makes folk do strange....

05-09-2007, 01:05 PM
"Never fear" said Boggy Catterbox, the squadron wit-of-sorts, giving the transvestite the blunt end of his flying boot. "Now let's go find some real crumpet, you berk."

05-09-2007, 02:28 PM
....Having been exposed, literally, for the man she really is the former alluring tart announced his real name, " I am Pepe LePew leader of the Crimson Croissant from the French Resistance. I've been sent because we heard there was a German Double agent on this airfield." Breeze walked up at this point and said.....

05-09-2007, 02:30 PM
"Man, I hate Europe. This would never have happened at Disney World. The things we did together, the things you did to me...the things I did to you...I may never feel clean again."

"Hygiene is for Anglo-saxons," responded the cross dressing Crimson Croissanteur heartlessly.

The distant sobs of B. Hill could be heard over the stoney silence.

Just then the RT burped into life...

05-09-2007, 03:04 PM
Breeze, whose complete knowledge base of British culture stemmed from watching PBS (too many epis of All Creatures Great And Small, plus he never could figure why the Emperor Claudius spoke with a British accent), Michael Caine movies, Monty Python and Benny Hill, was dumbfounded.

"Blimey", he said, "Benny, the Frenchie tart and me are all perverts".

Breeze sadly walked away, his Union Jack scarf trailing lazily behind.

"I'll take me tank-bustin' Mustang and join 8th Air Force, I will, and fix this lot proper"...

05-09-2007, 03:13 PM
...the tart ran after Breeze, sobbing like a girl. "Non, mes Ami, je suis totally belle femme toot sweet," she said stepping out of her prosthetic man costume and whiggling her jiggley bits.

"Put me in your long range fuel tank and let us make for Bournemouth, I hear life is better there."

Breeze considered her application, she wasn't half bad even considering she'd been a bloke a moment ago, and the way she rolled her 'r's made his eyelids flutter 'a woman's past his her own,' he mused to himself philosophically...

05-09-2007, 03:34 PM
a mood that matched Ploughman's, as he wandered back to the Pub musing on the letter from the CSA.

How was he to support the 69 prosepective kids coming his way? Just then he remembered the article in the RAF gazette that mentioned the kill bonus payment to Russian fighter pilots.

Quickly forging his birth certificate to Ploughman Maddox, he promtly booked a trip on convoy 'mind your Ps and Qs.', bound for Archangel.

It was cold in Peterhead...

05-09-2007, 04:03 PM
[Begin sub-plot #17]

Meanwhile, having just finished his Straight From The Farm campaign, 1st Lt Elmer N00berry, the story's naive, token Iowa toe-head wanna-be hero, drove his un-trimmed P-47 like a cement truck through a motocross track. "Hmm, what did I map the H key to?".

"Golly!", he reflected on the previous scenes of greed, debauchery, and aberrant behaviour by the story's confusing list of protagonist. "Those veterans back at the field are too caught up in their own personal vanities and moral corruption to be useful to the allied cause. If anyone's going to win this war it has to be me and my shiny new P-47 Blunderbolt! Somebody has to stop Kochmeister before he takes somebody from behind!".

N00berry eagerly scanned the skies for menacing jerries while his ride unsteadely knifed through the air like an old carp in rough water. "What are those spots at 11am high?", he wondered, eyes blinking in anticipation of pwning a Feck-Wulf. "I need more info!", he mumbled, searching for the icon keystroke. "Gosh! It's hard to see out of this pig with wings!", he blurted in frustration. "Are those dots jerry or us? How far?".

Kochmeister, having re-spawned in a 190, grinned sinisterly as he spotted a P47 wobbling toward him. "N00b!!", he gloated. "Watch my a$s, Kuntz!", he ordered over the radio.

"Jawohl, Kochmeister!". But just as Kochmeister lined up the n00b in his sights, he beheld a site not to unlike an exploding Death Star. "ACH!! FECK!!

N00berry prayed, "Dear Lord, let one of these bullets hit something!" Eight 50. cal anti-tank guns let loose a torrent of tracer rounds, partially blinding both pilots and slowing the fps of both machines to a crawl.......

05-09-2007, 11:11 PM
...Some minutes later, several of the .50 cal shells still had enough energy to return to earth and punch through the window of a quiet country cottage, somewhere in the vicinity of 11 Group headquarters. The shells stitched a neat line across the bedroom floor.

Douglas Vader sat bolt upright in bed,
"Darling!" he cried, "Did you hear that?"
"It's nothing..." murmured Keith Park, pulling the blankets up to cover his ears, "Let me sleeeep!"...

05-09-2007, 11:23 PM
"This is highly disgusting and confirms everything we heard about the English---and, for that, matter, the gangster Americans---in Staff training" said Major Wotankannon of Luftwaffe Intelligence putting down the headphones. "I feel rather soiled fighting these, these dregs of the Spenglerian decline of the West which we, of course, are currently arresting."

05-10-2007, 12:45 AM
"Das ist richtig, Herr Major!!!!" piped his perky catamites, Hans und Fritz, at the switchboard.

05-10-2007, 06:05 AM
....but being the n00b he was, he missed both 190's with his spray & pray tactics. The two 190's cleanly bracketed left and right setting the blinded 47 driver up for a drag & bag. Poor N00berry, being an extreme n00b he has made mistakes that are being compounded by his N00bness. His first mistake was going "Lone Wolf" in a full real server, he may as well have bathed in chum and went swimming in a shark tank. At least then he would've had a chance.

Also being a n00b his situational awareness was extremely low, he forgot or didn't know, Jerry hunts in a Schwarm and the other Rotte had been stalking him for five minutes. Grafntrakfuhrer Tagert and his wingman Heinie Von Bismark took this opportunity for a Double Attack on the n00b and on his first pass Tagert neatly sawed off the left elevator. Since he was a n00b, N00berry's plane was improperly trimmed to begin with and it sent the heavy weight fighter into an viscous spin.

Tagert called "off", chuckled at his skill, and neatly zoomed back to his perch as smelly old Heinie called "in" and zoomed down on the spinning P-47....

05-10-2007, 06:42 AM
...'feel the force, n00b.' Said a voice in N00berry's head. A little glowing green guy with pointey ears appearred on his dashboard, "dive fast you can" it said cryptically. N00berry went down like a cheap ******, frantically adjusting his knob to stop the spin with Heine all over him like a cheap suit. At 7,000ft they zoomed through a host of Spit fives what were chugging along taking photos of each other and saying things like "spiffing kite" and "has that Septic's Tank got a Cabbage Crate hanging off it?" One quick burst of .303 TK'd Heine; N00berry was in the clear, he gave his jug a tug and he zoomed back up into the high thin air...

05-10-2007, 06:52 AM
Grafntraknfurher Tagert was outraged. He was very fond of Heinie.

Impetuously ignoring the initial imperative of Focke-Wulf flying, he rolled over for another pass at N00berry....

05-10-2007, 07:06 AM
....not realizing it was a single .303 round that had struck Heinie's engine seizing it up tighter then a bull's arse in a hail storm. Heinie had put the 190 into a gentle dive and bailed from his stricken crate.

Pour N00berry it just wasn't his day as the poor n00b's SA let him down again, he missed Galland and his squeeze Lea returning from the strafing run on Buggin Hill. The Princess, using teh "Force" shot the 110's rear firing MG's like a laser sawing of the poor n00b's right elevator sending the big Jug into another spin with no elevators.

N00berry thought " I shoulda went fish'n" as he struggled to open the P-47's canopy....

05-10-2007, 07:18 AM
...suddenly the phone rang.

"Er, hello. This is N00berry."

"Yes, Hello, is that N00berry?"

"Yes, this is N00berry, look I'm sort of busy at the moment. Can you call back?"

"Yes but you really want to take this call."

"I do?"

"Trust me on this one, you want to take this call."

"OK, so shoot,"

That was the fist time N00berry was to hear the four words that were to make him the the top ace in the ETO.

As he watched the spinning universe rotate around him, the green and pleasant meadow's below looming like an iceberg in a shipping lane the words came to him through the horn.


The little green fellow on the dash nodded sagely. 'Wisest of the Jedi knights he was,'

N00berry quickly flicked through the menus until he found where he could map his inputs...England loomed menacingly before him, the little green guy picked some wax out of his ear...

05-10-2007, 08:09 AM
..which N00berrry used to lubricate his slider before slamming it back. Slightly improbably due to the lack of elevators, the P-47 responded like a teenage CoD addict on crack, pitching up just enough to avoid an invisible tree before bouncing of a small hillock.

"Good job I had realistic landings turned off" grimaced N00berry, whilst overhead, 17 circling Lufties immeadiatly e-mailed God about the overmodelling of the P-47 trim.

N00berry climbed from his still bunny hopping Jug, to see a badly modelled MG TA screech to a halt...

05-10-2007, 09:44 AM
"Zis ist Zilly" Zaid Gruppenfuhrer Rolf Giggles fixing a steely eye on his favorite gerbil, Gotterdamerung Monkey...

05-10-2007, 11:00 AM
"I have a headache" said the petulant rodent removing 50 marks from the ace pilot's wallet, and waltzed out the door to see CASABLANCA in Lisbon with a tiny shake of its shapely posterior. "Abandoned again in my time of need" groaned Giggles pouring himself a stiff shot of rainwater. "I'll have to displace my thwarted sex drive into violent homoerotic activity, i.e., aerial combat, according to the dictates of Freudian psychology." He was thinking while pulling on his all leather flight gear with lots of fetish rings and hooks.

05-10-2007, 12:12 PM
...some of which had occult connexions in distant Tibet.

0800 dial-a-lama went one ring with supernatural powers. In distant Lhasa Buddist aviation elements were alerted to rubble trouble in contra-distant Europe, combat-monks ran with some difficulty to their attack kites.

"Mission Europa," said the 19th Bhudda of Frontal Aviation. "Wind 'em up and let's get going."

05-10-2007, 12:34 PM
Suddenly the entire Nazi World Mission was being seriously undermined by a 1,000 kite Karma strike put up by Bhomber Bharris of Lhasa...

05-10-2007, 12:50 PM

05-10-2007, 01:46 PM
The Nazi Tibetan-Aryan fantasy was brutally refuted by a sudden massive prostate failure in all SS divisions. The Luftwaffe fighters scrambled to destroy the seemingly fragile kites all got blue screened and their software crashed leaving their sobbing pilots screaming at their monitors in frustration.

05-10-2007, 01:53 PM
Luckily some VolksLuften fighters, who'd not been given der 4.08ss upgrade (even though it contained der Schpitfuer Mk. XIV mit zee bubble toppen, grrrr!!!!) were spared and not returned to desktop. They Kranked up their Kabbage-kighten, utilising Hitler's Boss for Windoze, and were soon in the air, the whine of their single BMW Gauliter engines singing in their ears.

"21st incarnation of teh Bhudda of Force Projection at ten O'Clock," noted staffel leader Hans Frei. Der Staffel turned to intercept.

"Yaks at 10 O'Clock," cried his wing man.

The sky was full of them, horns an all...

05-10-2007, 02:02 PM
Things looked grim for for the Lhamists as the VolksLuftens ripped gleefully into them and their hairy flying mammel escorts, but luckily, through a convenient time-space-continuum, Ploughman and the rest of his merry men of Spermacetti Squadron came tearassing at the dumbstruck huns with Vampire Is...

05-10-2007, 02:35 PM
recognizable by the fangs and rather natty cravats.

The Vampires made a meal of the VolksLuften fighters, but just as victory was almost complete, a AAA battery of Bavarian villagers mit der 88mm burning torches opened up...

05-10-2007, 08:52 PM
with their flying bloodsuckers rendered hors by Sprengranate 8.8 mit der Stake Throughen der Herzen rounds Ploughman and Spermacetti Squadron found themselves in their chutes drifting down over the capital of the Reich, most likely facing terminal wall mounting courtesy of the SS Waffens who were currently enjoying the effects of massive prostate dysfunction brought upon them by the machinations of the Lhamists. "Mein Gott ! I feel like a bull yak kicked me in the nadgers" said Standartenfuhrer Humperdink rubbing his feverish forehead. "Leibe Gott! Mein groin feels crucified!" whimpered Dreedlefuhrer Diddles "must have been those Hamburg tarts, when will I ever learn?" "Zank Gott fur sulpha drugs" whined Humperdink injecting himself with pure American stuff. "Ach, that's better!"

Suddenly the two SS Waffens noticed a skyful of fluttering objects. "I taut I taw a puddy tat!" said Diddles. "Wrong cartoon, Scheisskopf !" snorted Humperdink...

05-10-2007, 10:05 PM

05-11-2007, 03:51 AM
...elsewhere in der Reich's capital der Fuhrer was waking.

"Donner und kebab," he said happily to his Helmut, who was poofing his pillow. "I'm feeling very varm und kuddly today. I might un-invade a few countries, vott do u tink?"

Helmut, who was used to his gross fuhrer's inexplicable outbursts of bonhommie smiled indulgently at his blissful leader and said...

05-11-2007, 04:02 AM
(Helmet said)


05-11-2007, 04:15 AM
Undt der Fuhrer of alles der Reich replied:


and the two danced merrily around the Chancellery as Ploughman and his squadron were rounded up by the jackknifed SS Waffens who were sobbing and moaning pitifully with each step.

"Appears the Master Race is clapped out" said Breeze flipping a spare gerbil to Tagert who was looking bereft...

05-11-2007, 04:35 AM
..."datz vewy sweet Helmut," said der fuhrer as he slipped on his Kashmir morning gown, "I voz partikularily impressed with ze vhale allusion. Now, I'm in such a good mood I may even make a veiled Von_Tagert reference, no verhapz not. Vight! Vhich slave nation shall I proclaim frei?"

Helmut knew how to manage his leader's mood svings.

"How about England, mein fuhrer?"

"Ach! Zoes tozzers mit zer Chain Homo vadar und zer Spitschtaffelz vif ze krap radiatorz!" Exploded H1tl3r. "You've utterly ruined my sense of well being Helmut, tank you. Now I am mentally prepared to oppress."

"No problemo," replied Helmut, brushing some spittle from his lip, he noticed der SS walking kocheyed in the garden with some handsome allied types snacking on gerbils. "Mingenschloss," he cried, "waxy whale substance!"

05-11-2007, 04:54 AM
http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/88.gif http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/11.gif

05-11-2007, 05:01 AM
Suddenly the air was filled with the loud thrumming of a single engine fighter.

The Fuhrer looked skyward, and the silhouette of the plane came into view.

"Now that's a small Fokker", the Fuhrer said with dismay.

"Don't worry", replied his right-hand man Schumacher.."we have much bigger Fokkers than that in our airforce!"

05-11-2007, 05:08 AM
"Bist RAF British-type Schweinhunden Terrorflieger typische bistids????!!!!" shrieked the infallible leader of all the German-type peoples pointing at Spermacetti Squadron. "Ja, zay ist RAF-typische bistids mit Amerikaner bistids" replied a jackknifed SS Waffen through gritted teeth. "AMERIKANER BISTIDS???????" shrieked the greatest strategic genius of world history etc etc etc. "Shoot all the frikkin swine instantly, no mercy, and get it all on high definition." With that der Fuhrer pivoted on his bunny rabbit slipper and marched primly back into the Chancellery.

"Hell's bells we are haggis on a plate" said Ploughman thoughtfully withdrawing some laudanum from his flight jacket...

05-11-2007, 05:27 AM
..."Get this in you lads, Breezey put down O'Leitmotivallaghan. I know you're ockers and all but that's just not right."

"Sure ting' holmes," said Breeze, setting O'Leitmotivallaghan, the tea sniffing Bostonian whose Oirish antics would become a recurrent theme in the storyline, down on one knee. "What's that?"

"'Tis laudanum chums, it's made from Chuck Norris's tears and one drop is equivalent to a panzer tank, and not one of teh **** ones neither. I'm talking at least a IVG, maybe even.." They all held their breaths, "A V!"

05-11-2007, 06:00 AM
O'Leitmotivallaghan, also known as, the Irishman from Hell, following the well-known predisposition of his countrymen to gravitate towards oblivion or mayhem, whichever came first, grabbed Ploughman's vial, and intemperately, but typically, choffed the whole beverage. "'Tis nuthin'" he sniffed, chucking the empty at a screaming SS Waffen who was trying to set up an MG42 for The Big Wipe Out. He spoke too soon, because, within a matter of seconds, his eyes bulged out, his head enlarged to at least twice its normal size, and O'Leit was frothing like a rabid dog. "Worked like a charm" hummed Ploughman stepping back as the tiny Irishman launched into the SS Waffens like a pit bull at a cat show.

"Ach du lieber?!" "Bitte, bitte!!!!" "Meine name ist O'Schneider!" It was over in three minutes.

05-11-2007, 05:10 PM
...and we all had a ciggie to celebrate.

O'Leitmotivallaghan mashed his brain pan off the nearest flak-tower for a couple of minutes until he came to terms with the Norris within and then we took of in a captured prostitute to the nearest Lufthaven where a stiff Breeze helped our overladen Zep get of the ground and we winged it Blighty bound. Talk about a near thing. I fair sh...

05-11-2007, 06:02 PM
...f' the voice broke off into static. Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto took off the headphones and frowned heavily into his sake. 'With an attitude like that' he mused to the radio set, 'maybe an attack on pearl jam harbor isn't that bad an idea!'

Ordering the attack and a side order of fries, he then booked a Betty pleasure flight....

05-14-2007, 09:57 AM
"An attitude like what?" Intruded Rear-Admiral Ugaki telepathically into Yamamoto's thoughts. "Damn you, Ugaki, I told you to quit this Zen b------t!" roared Yamamoto telepatically. "An attitude like what?" persisted Ugaki insubordinately. "!@##!!%@!%%&&%%!!!" roared Yamamoto no longer telepatically. "You are losing the path" chided Ugaki. "Stick the path up yer bum and turn it sideways then...." Now Yamamoto was thrashing Ugaki over the head with his ceremonial sword, luckily still in its sheath, giving him the flat side repeatedly while yelling grave insults regarding his lineage, especially about his descent from chimpanzees with piles. "If you attack the U.S.A., you will only be awaking a sleeping dragon which will blowtorch you right up the whazooo..." yelped Ugaki as Yamamoto now resorted to the ancient Samurai tradition of micturating on stupid, impertinent underlings. "Ki-yi-yi-yuggghhhhhh" yelled Ugaki fleeing NAGATO's Admiral's stateroom in his drenched uniform. "You will be awaking a sleeping hedgehog which will quill you in the bum for your hubris, you nit!" "Stick it up yer arse, chicken s--t!" bellowed the Admiral pouring himself another triple of Night Train. "Amellicans lack moral fiber, we'll kick their arses back to Chesapeake Bay, the whimps!" With that he staggered up the companionway, veered onto the quarterdeck, knocked a Marine guard into Tokyo Bay, and maintained a zig-zag course along the quarterdeck, taking gulps of Night Train (an addiction acquired at Harvard), periodically kicking junior officers in the groin.

05-14-2007, 11:12 AM
Just then a stiff Breeze with the blonde Frenchie tart sitting on his lap, pretending to shift the gearstick, flew overhead in his P-40 causing Ploughman to choke on his twiddle. Tagert looked up, wishing he could shade his eyes with his missing arms and said...

05-14-2007, 11:39 AM
"...poor Nancy, if only she knew I was the amputee for her. I should never have gotten involved with a that floozy, her head's too easily turned by fly boys. One day she'll remember me and..."

He began to sob a bit as he walked to Dr Fielding's surgery where he was going to be fitted with prosthetic arms...

Looking out across the harbor he noticed...

05-14-2007, 04:31 PM

05-14-2007, 04:42 PM
Tagert, along with Ploughman, cast his baleful and permanently befuddled countenance at several hundred dots coming closer to Pearl Harbor.

"OMGWTFBBQ!!!", he mumbled.

Ploughman, still rolling in the sand with the Hawaiian mama he had desperately managed to latch onto at closing time, looked over at Tagert and said, "Care for a shag? This one here is greased up and ready. I need to get to a Tomahawk and give those IJN (snicker) fellows a bit of what for.

The Hawaiian mama looked up and said.....

05-14-2007, 05:17 PM
"Ten bucks and and a pair of nylons, flyboy" she said smacking her bubble gum and giving the ready to deal Ploughman a hip shot right on home plate. Her Hawaiian print dress was tighter than the fabric on Pman's P-40B's rudder. Ploughman was fumbling eagerly in his wallet, brain reduced to Quaker Oat Meal, completely oblivious to the descent of 250-kg HE bombs in the general vicinity of Hickam. Fortunately, a friendly SP came along and busted the ****** wannabe removing half a box of Kleenex from her bra, and gave the sex-brained Ploughman a therapeutic thrashing with his billyclub to remind the cretinized dilbert where his duty lay. "Right there" he whimpered pawing at the semi-nubile ankle being withdrawn from his line of fire. "Straighten up and fly right" said the SP regarding the disgraced flyboy with contempt and delivering a parthian shot of his stick to Ploughman's enraged reptile. This seemed to bring him around. "Once more into the breech dear friends...no, no don't want to think about breeches...off we go into the wild blue yonder!" He flagged a cab and headed for his field...

05-15-2007, 12:04 AM
Lt. Shigeo Teriyaki, leader of carrier SHOKAKA (Incontinent Crane) fighter squadron, was doing lazy eights over Hickam leisurely strafing late model Fords, Chryslers, Pontiacs, B-18s, and A-20s when he noticed the slim outline of what appeared to be an inline fighter making a beeline for a line of carrier attack bombers preparing to bomb a line of hangars.

Tagert, vision cloudy due to a murderous Wild Turkey hangover, realized he was having so much trouble lining up on that line of bombers because he was flying inverted. "Li'l too much trim." He made the correction in time to saw off the tail of the trailing bomber with his right wingtip. "Good start" he said stalling out and tumbling back on the next giving the terrified gunner point-blank fire. Fortunately it vaporized and got out of his way. "Shaping up to be a good morning after all."

No sooner had he spoken than Teriyaki was on his tail with a beef. Tracers were smoking right by his canopy and cannon hits were removing large sections of Alcoa's finest aluminium. Tagert was shielded from panic by the effects of his hangover, and, in fact, his reaction to his imminent demise was philosophical: "Looks like I won't have to marry Admiral Kimmel's daughter after all" he said with a sly smile...

05-15-2007, 08:57 AM
...Just then Breeze and the BFT swooped in from high above and got on the IJN (snicker) fighter's tail. The (Asian) turned and ran from the fight. Hmm, Breeze mused, Chicken Teriyaki...

05-15-2007, 10:57 AM
...for dinner tonight," said Gunners Mate O'Leitmotivallaghan to Admiral Kibblenutz in the admiral's state rooms on the USS Bigass.

"Don't sound like a real Merry Can meal to me," replied Kibblenutz. "You lift shirts O'Leitmotivallaghan?"

"No sir, I'm your steward. I don't work in the laundary."

O'Leitmotivallaghan thought momentarily about his brother O'Leitmotivallaghan who'd been reported MIA in the ETO in order to maintain some semblance of plot continuity.

"Where you from O'Leitmotivallaghan?" Asked the Admiral?

"Hell, Michigan sir," replied O'Leitmotivallaghan.

"That's a nice place," said the Admiral. "I stopped off one evening there I seem to remember, got something to eat on Main Street."

"You dined in Hell, sir?"

05-15-2007, 05:47 PM
Just then, Breeze, high on coke, clipped a car in an oncoming lane driven by two teenage girls, Heidi and Kennedy, lost control of the car and flipped several times while going down an embankment. The BFT saw her chance to get a rid of a major pain in the arse and held Breeze's nostrils closed until he was dead. Yes, dead. The BFT then flew to Las Vegas and got high on peyote and won a bunch of money on roulette and then boffed one on Breeze's old flings.

Poor Breeze...a violent man...and a drunken druggie...dead...

05-15-2007, 06:00 PM
Ploughman: My God, Breeze is dead.

Tagert: No he isn't, he's just a bit winded.

Ploughman: He's dead, dead, dead. You sold me a dead Breeze.

Tagert: He isn't. He's resting. Look at him.

Ploughman: I am looking. He isn't breathing and his eyes are closed. He's dead, I tell you.

Tagert: I believe he's just pining for the fjords...

05-15-2007, 06:03 PM
..."Well that's one stiff Breeze," said Detective O'Leitmotivallaghan, of the Hell's O'Leitmotivallaghans, looking at the greying corpse before him.

"Yeth, mathter," said Sargeant Igor, eyeing the stiff Breeze aquisitively. 'Uncle Thwankenstein who workth in thpethial weaponth at the Pentagon will be interethted in a fweth, thtiff Bweeth,' thought Sargent Igor to himself...

05-15-2007, 11:52 PM
"We can't have but one kind of stiff Breeze" said Chief Pathologist Nancy Jane Ramp casting a jaundiced eye at the allegedly deceased Breeze lying on her stainless steel dissection table. "Many a time I was rejuvenated by the services of this unnaturally serviceable rake hell, man-about-town, all-purpose-degenerate, and Hell's Angel-type pilot for freedom, democracy, mom, apple pie, and the girl next door (as long as she has the morals of a Marseilles *****)." Dr Ramp fetched a vial of pure human adrenaline and, using a needle that looked big enough for a bull elephant, gave the ostensibly terminated Breeze a stiff one in the gluteus maximus with a satisfied grin. Within a matter of seconds Breeze was sitting on the edge of the table with the doctor on his knee, his hand up her skirt, a Chesterfield in his mouth, and was pouring himself a double whiskey from the Police Chief's private stash.

05-16-2007, 03:39 AM
.."Guraargh," said Breeze, hocking up a thick loogie and sending it on a trajectory that would unite it with a distant stainless steel receptical. It slapped wetly against the metal with a dull tunk. "Being dead sucked more than being in Europe."

Breeze scanned the room, there were 127 cigarettes, one quart of alchohol that wouldn't make him blind and three pints that would. And a single female. 'Time for a party,' he thought to himself.' He needed an opening line.

"You the lady who stuck the giant needle in my chest?"

05-16-2007, 04:16 AM
"Not in yer chest, Big Boy, but you've got something you can


05-16-2007, 04:25 AM
...Igor came for the body, slipping quietly into the morgue. He'd seen and done terrible things in his brief tortured life, all for the love of his master, DARPA Chief Col. Billy Frankenstein but he'd never seen or done anything as twisted as what he saw taking place on the table in front of him. He screamed and fled into the night, destined to eak out a living stealing from garbage bins in remote towns and the occassional small role in a B movie.

"Was that you honey?" Asked, Breeze.

"Shut up and trepan me again you big brute," she replied.

05-16-2007, 05:04 AM
After being hustled away from his easy kill on the hungover Tagert on 7 Dec, Lt. Teriyaki was ready for revenge and was sure he would get it on the pushover Midway operation. It appeared he was going to get plenty of payback because Peccary Squadron had been seconded to Torpedo Squadron Eight on the HORNET and they were presently being sliced and diced by seemingly every Zero in the Pacific. "Zounds" quoth Ploughman noticing his left wing fuel tank on his inaptly named Devastator being can opened by one of Teriyaki's bros. "F---in unbelievable" said O'Leit admiringly, always impressed by megaviolence. "Could put a crimp in my sex life" groaned Breeze depositing Nancy Jane in the bombardier's position below his seat with a thump. Tagert was referring to to some performance tables, shook his head, bashed his forehead against the instrument panel, and stuffed the Devastator's nose down to pick up the odd ten knots. Teriyaki zoomed, tipped over, and carefully chose Tagert to close accounts from half a year earlier...

05-16-2007, 07:48 AM
"Breezy, honey, I'm starting my magnetos" cooed Nancy Jane from the depths of the bombardier's station below Breeze just as the port aileron distintegrated into aluminum fragments and blue fabric. "%#@!!&&%%!!" wheezed Breeze noticing a string of six Zeros lined up behind him and his gunner, apparently, ex post facto. "Hang on poodle pants" he shouted simultaneously jettisoning the aptly numbered Mk XIII aerial torpedo, slamming the throttle to the rear, dropping what was left of the flaps, throwing his stick to the left, and applying full left rudder. The Zeros were dismayed to espy the lumbering TBD abruptly disappear behind a column of water which they assumed was its valedictory dive. "AGGGHHH!!!!! Now I've got you, you b------s!" crowed Breeze as his .30 cal. Browning popgun drilled pointblank into the nearest Zero's wing tank. "AIEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!" yelled Petty Officer Honda becoming aviator flamb'e . "TAKE THAT, ARGGGGGGGHHHH!!!!!!" Breeze drilled Lt. Nissan next, followed by Toyota, Sony, Hitachi, and Mitsubishi. "YEEEEHAAA!!!!!!" yelled Breeze barrelassing off over the horizon with Nancy Jane riding shotgun, literally, all the way.

05-16-2007, 07:56 AM

You're a tough act to follow, Leit.http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/16x16_smiley-very-happy.gif

05-16-2007, 08:04 AM
the drugs took effect this morning, errch

05-18-2007, 07:44 AM
Unfortunately for Teriyaki, the division belonging to Peccary Squadron ran into a genuine time warp and suddenly an F-14 blasted right through Teriyaki's airspace reducing his Zero to Reynolds Wrap. The F-14 was being chased by a two-seat A-4 film plane busily engaged in shooting scenes for TOP GUN. Yes, Peccary Squadron had been rudely projected into 1985. "Whazzat?" said O'Leit beginning to suspect a rougher than usual bout of delirium tremens coming...

05-18-2007, 08:01 AM
...{a bit later, back at Nellis]. Despite the homicidal nature of their bombing attack on the Nellis flight line which, according to Tagert's copy of "Michael Bey's Big Book of World War Two" had been entirely populated by Axis A-4s, Peccary Squadron were able to secure a lawyer and an agent before taxiing to a halt. A more confused than was normal Breeze took a swipe at Thms. Cruise esq, by way of introduction but missed as the wee fella' ducked and ran off like he had a party pack up his Arnold Rimmer.

"You guys are going to be big hit on the airshow circuit," said the agent stepping from a stretched HumVee and tossing Tagert a bag of swag, "say, these planes are yours right."

Breeze, who'd finally not only caught up but had actually overtaken events replied...

05-18-2007, 08:13 AM
..."Shagging Tom's sweetie instructor babe and having a go at Goose's wife have been worth the temprorary loss of equilibrium due to the time warp.

"Blimey", mused Breeze (He's always musing ain't he) "If we could take the Tomcat back through the time warp, we could dust off those (Asians) in short order".

Just then, Tagert showed up with charts, graphs and an Excel presentation showing it was possible.

Kramer and Newman were in the back of the room, taking notes, sure that this would be the way to get their pop bottles to Michigan.

Ploughman, preoccupied with getting into 1985's newer version of skirt, observed...

05-18-2007, 08:25 AM
"...hey, they're two seaters, three if you're a hobbit like Thms. Cruise esq., Let's grab some birds, go back using Tagert's charts, and win the war in time for tea."

Breeeze sighed. He was in Nevada, all sorts of things were legal here, and now he was going to have to leave.

[...a bit later, or many years earlier, depending on one's point of view] Admiral Nogo, on his flagship Toptomato (Wheezing Crane) spat green tea on his carrier air group, "WTF!" He shouted as Breeze's middle finger went past at 550 knots.

05-18-2007, 09:21 AM
O'Leit was a bit confused by the controls and managed to roll inverted before entering the hangar of the HORNET from the port side. He shot out of the starboard side headed straight for a heavy cruiser. Recovering his wits briefly, he rolled upright and went vertical in full afterburner causing underwear casualties in the entire task force...

05-18-2007, 09:36 AM
this is funnier than anything ive ever read, better than catch 22, to be published immediately http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/35.gif

05-18-2007, 11:11 AM
In a stunning display of airmanship, Breeze sat the F-14 down on the deck of the Toptomato. Admiral Nogo and all of his officers immediately committed hara-kiri. The enlisted men crowded around the Tomcat and cheered with glee.

"Say", shouted a triumphant Breeze and nodding his head toward backseater, Goose, "Have you (Asian) chaps ever heard of St. Patrick?"

Amazingly enough, they had. The main deck elevator disappeared and then reappeared with 75 barrels of Guiness Stout captured in Singapore.

"Happy St. Patrick's Day", shouted the throng, even though it was August 3rd.

Just then, a flight of Harriers appeared overhead and...

05-18-2007, 11:36 AM
hovered while their pilots hung over their cockpits and discharged their bums on Breeze's F-14 in a remarkable display of precision formation bombing. Breeze, incredibly the worse for the wear from the raid, said ruefully " I thought the U.S. was the only country certified in daylight precision bombing."

05-18-2007, 11:54 AM
...O'Leit untangled himself from the radio mast where he'd parked his Tomcat and strode manfully onto the flight deck scattering ratings hither n thither. "Nobody unloads on my buddies," he cried as a flurry of Michael Beys hit the planking.

"Everything was going so well," interjected Admiral Nogo whose lingering sepukku would last into the mid-1970s.

Breeze nodded philosophically. He'd only recently died too and was feeling a growing kinship with his intestinally challenged former adversary.

05-18-2007, 12:09 PM
The deceased Breeze nodded and nodded frantically till brain commotion and damage almost provoked him a seizure, but just before that, he remembered three years ago, when in Spain he met that Spanish guy, Capitn Duscorvn, who was so successful with the chicks that, when he flew over enemy territory, he never forgot to carry a pack of condoms not to lose time if he was shot down and bailed out over a farm full of women. He remembered also his wise advice:

"It's not size, it's what you do with it. Well, and it is size, too, dckie-willie."

So he stopped nodding as a dork and hit the refly key, grabbed firmly his joystick and...

05-18-2007, 12:53 PM
The Harriers did a swooping descent and neatly circuited the impounded Japanese carrier, as if to show their superiority to their larger brethren, and landed vertically on the unbumbombed bow. Out hopped Commander Basher St Blaise, RN, in a stunning white flightsuit followed by his equally shipshape flight of Albatross Squadron. "How the bloody hell did we get back in this p---s poor excuse for a time to be living?" he said regarding Squadron Leader Ploughman with obvious distaste. His particular focus seemed to be on his walrus-like 1940-era RAF-type moustache which looked like something out of "The Goon Show" to his way of thinking. "And look at all of you, you look like extras from some horrible Kenneth Moore stiff upper lip Battle of Britain movie." "Now just a minute, mate" said O'Leit starting to see a tinge of scarlet around the periphery of his vision...

05-18-2007, 02:29 PM
"Oy", shouted Breeze, slipping from early 1940's British vernacular into Aussie. He slipped on the Harrier bum bombs and slid into a (Asian) gun platform. His drunken, bleary-eyed self began firing 20 mm rounds everywhere in sight. "I'll show you bastages a thing or two about petrol", referencing a long forgotten tale of drunken revelry.

Just then a flight of clearly overmodeled A6M3's appeared on the horizon...

05-18-2007, 03:40 PM
..and landed with professional ease on that back of the Toptomato's flight deck, alighting like little gazelles they commented to passing ratings on the number of advanced jet fighters available to the IJN and went below for some saki and blow job (cut and dry, nothing kinky).

O'Leit was in two minds, avenge the sufferings passed generations of the Emerald Isle or cater to current business. He looked at Ploughman, who nodded sagely. A trip to the barbers and some sorting out then thought O'Leit...he collected four imperial gallons of Cod Liver Oil and one pnuematic pump (hand) and headed off for a chat with Attack Chitokai Toptomato.

Breeze, who'd had his thinking beak buried in Bertrand Russell for the last ten minutes looked up...

05-18-2007, 08:24 PM
I used the time warp illegally to go to 1972 and a Creedence Clearwater Revival concert. Oh by the way, the (Asian) chaps were great company. (Small in stature) (motherless children) can rock!!!

Meanwhile, somwhere on the Eastern Front, Heinie and Kuntz were vying for attention.

05-19-2007, 04:01 AM


05-19-2007, 04:35 AM
O'Leit infiltrated the the hangar deck squadron room area of the TOPTOMATO with some difficulty considering he resembled a stunted leprechaun, and the amount of gear he was carrying. He was still operating on a good drum full of steam provided by a sassenach/RN fairy #!%%##@@!!!! whom Ploughman narrowly diverted him from unstringing on general principles. The business of rendering a mere three Hamp-sters hors humanely with cod liver oil was nothing at all, in fact, all in a ordinary day's work. Having been briefed on the characters for "carrier fighter", when he saw the right door, O'Leit, pulled what little there was of himself up, and kicked the door open yelling "ALL RIGHT YE ##!!!%%###@@!!&&%%%###@@!!!&&%%%###@@!!&&%%###@@!!! [so many rascist epithets even a white supremacist would have been shocked and appalled] prepare to be rendered unfit fer anything except %%##@@&&%%###@@!!!!!!!!!!" O'Leit was standing by the door holding the pump in one mitt and a gallon jug in another, a fierce look on his little red face contrasting sharply with his blue RAF uniform. His declaration was greeted with dead silence. O'Leit found himself staring at 40 or 50 gigantic seemingly naked men who slowly rotated their heads around to look at him like the turrets of dreadnoughts training on a distant target. Unfortunately, O'Leit had just busted in on the fleet sumo wrestling championship, and all the finalists were waiting in that ready room. "O HO!" sallied one giant pointing at what he thought was some kind of naval joke. "HO HO HO!" said another slapping his leg. "AH HA!" said the rest guffawing and pointing. O'Leit felt completely deflated, turned around, and retreated out the door.

05-25-2007, 12:39 PM
Lts. Plugmann und Leitmotiv having made substantial bets about which one would put a perfect pattern right across King's Cross were making a beeline for the north London station in their shapely Heinkels loaded with 250kg high explosive bombs on the deadly night on 10 May 1941. "I doctored Plugmann's target map so that St Pancras is marked as KC, harr harr harr" laughed L's nav/bombardier Donnerblitzen. "Gut" roared L, making a big correction to avoid a wayward Ju 88. "GACK" yelled Heidigger his dorsal gunner, "you nearly flew into a Heinkel!!!" "%%###@@!!!!" screamed Plugmann as a Heinkel suddenly lurched directly in front of him. He had no recourse but to suddenly dive out of the low cloud in which he had been cruising into the bright light of a searchlight right over Ally Pally. "A great bloody fat Heinkel!" exulted Sally Barnes stubbing out her cig on Mary Stubbs' helmet. She swung her Bofors around and commenced blasting away at Plugmann who was suddenly low, illuminated, and more exposed than a Hyde Park flasher on a good day. CRUMP CRUMP CRUMP. Plugmann watched in terror as the Bofors rounds marched right up to his glasshouse. "Looks like finis" groaned his nosemate resignedly lighting up his last pipeful of good hash. But, suddenly the crashing stopped and the fat Heinkel climbed out over Hornsey headed for for King's Cross.

Little did the huns know that in a freak accident of war the two loaders of Sallys' Bofors had simultaneously been laid out flat on Ally Pally's pavement by the then undiagnosed condition of PMS, and the voracious piece went unloaded just at Sally's moment of consummation, thus, pitching her into the worst state of shooting coitus interruptus imaginable. "AGGGHHHHHHHHHH" howled Sally hammering on Mary's helmet, "AGGGGGGGGGGGGGG."

05-26-2007, 05:32 PM
Lt. Leitmotiv's nav/bombardier espied KC ahead. They were early so there was no smoke to obstruct their aiming. "Looks like a straight run, ein stuck vom Kuchen" said Donnerblitzen fiddling with the Lofte dials as the customarily lousy British heavy AA whacked way away from their course. "Gut" replied L holding the Heinkel straight and level, anticipating the look on Plugmann's face when he produces his photo. "Camera fertig, Heidigger?" "Ja!" groaned the long-suffering dorsal gunner leaning over his hole aiming the big target camera L insisted they bring along for proof positive of a perfect pattern across the terminal. Of course, he was unable to do his primary look-out job, and had he been able he would have seen another Heinkel on a perfectly intersecting course....

06-04-2007, 01:32 PM
"Fisch Phingerz!!" Yelped von Leit as Plugmunn's Heinie swung infront of his glasshouse, the rudder of his bomb bus giving Donnerblitzen's protruding shooter ein thwack as he adjusted his trim for the final run in.
"You all dandy now girl?" asked Plugmunn.
"You bet!" Replied the trim. "I did have a dead leg going but now everything's jamtastic!"
"Well that's better than a buttered scone," said Plugmunn happily over the interkomm. At this Plugmunn's rear gunner, Hans Frei, eyed him suspiciously. He'd often wondered about Plugmunn, his marmalade habit, the set perpetually tuned to Radio Four, the copy of the Times he received every morning by Lysander.
There could be only one conclusion...
Plugmunn was a Limey b@st@rd. He had to act...

06-04-2007, 03:18 PM
Just then, a stiff Breeze came up...

06-04-2007, 03:58 PM
adding further complication in his smartly turned-out Beaufighter black on black with real leather and high gloss Detroit automotive black straight from General Motors. "Ummm, not quite Official" observed the Wingco with a jaded eye (his other was ruby). Right at this moment Breeze was taking aim at ersatz-Plugmann's Heinkel which inconveniently swung...but...what's this? Now he had two Heinkels in a row.

"You'll never believe this, Hand-Jobb" he said to his long-suffering, doublebanger, radar-op, Cambridge Communist whizz kid, "I'm about to send two krauts to hell with one blast." "Tha-tha-tha-tha-tha...." Hand-Jobb had one defect as a radar op, he stuttered hugely when excited which was almost constantly.

06-05-2007, 03:40 AM
Mary stubbs, sweatlets forming on her tender forehead, rammed a round up her breech and lept clear. Sally Barnes gave the lanyard a tug and ducked and winced as the mighty weapon barked out its death cry sending a 90mm high velocity doo-dah after the retreating Bosch Bomb Buses.

The Barnes/Stubbs ack-ackettes never saw the stealthy form of Breezeys Beau with the punt pushing tweedy turncoat riding Whizzo in the rear as it stalked the Heinies through the night. The 90mm kissed the underside of the nightfigher, exploding rapturously....

06-05-2007, 06:46 AM
Leitmotiv's dorsal gunner, Heidigger, having a really bad night being thrown about with the target camera, was liberated by one huge bump which pitched the camera into the gloom as the pilot throttled back violently. "Um, Leutnant, Kamera gefallen." As he looked up, he saw the ominous snout of a Beaufighter less than 50 meters away. "Himmel!" he gulped. At the same moment he was treated to a fabulous display of deconstruction as the Beaufighter caught a direct hit.

Sally Barnes and Mary Stubbs were doing the Lambeth Walk by their piece to celebrate the downing of a Heinkel....

Breeze, having been blown through his bullet-proof windscreen was considerably detumesced, his right hand still holding his stick, and he still positioned as if he were looking through his gunsight....

Hand-Jobb's stutter was cured as he headed toward, if not Worker's Paradise, a more classical version....

Ersatz-Plugmann/Ploughman was up to some mischief, but what was it? Lt. Leitmotiv's bombardier, Donnerblitzen, was now ready to place a perfect pattern on King's Cross when suddenly the leading Heinkel...

06-05-2007, 12:05 PM
...split down the middle, like it was just some fat suit on an athlete releasing what could only be God's own personally endorsed airframe of freedom, a chronologically implausible Spit XIV. The shell of the Heinie fell away, Hans Frei shreaking into the night that he'd know all along that 'Plugmann vos ein varm bier fancier up to nein gude!'

"Gottenladderung!" Piped von Leitmotiv, he'd seen some transformations in his life, he was a personal friend of Fatty Goering so he'd seen more men in skirts than the CO of the Highland Division, but this topped them all. He began to clap in admiration as the Spit rose up into the night like it was von Braun's love child, his astonishment was interrupted by .
"Mein LuftBombenBusenKapten, ve haff missed ze Konig's Kruz Chuff-Chuffhaven, might I vekomend St. Pancras. It has a neo-Gothic facade and iz just asking for it."
'Krupp!' said von Leit to himself, he'd forgotten about the war.
"Bombs Away, letz kream that kracker!"
Donnerblitzen pickled his Tomato Heinz and Leit felt his load lighten.
Far below Mary Stubbs rammed another one home...

06-05-2007, 12:47 PM
...[aside]...Hand-Jobb came to. He remembered falling, he remembered being in a beastly aeroplane, but now he was surrounded by soft, lots of soft and some of it seemed to be licking him in the ear. He allowed his eyes to focus, everything looked soft and felt soft, he tried an experimental caress; more soft. Nubile figures writhed at the edge of his vision, gosh, could he have been wrong? A life long atheist and singer of the international, had he now arrived in heaven?
"Not heaven luvy," said a spirited cockney voice; he must have been thinking aloud. "But the next best thing," continued the voice. "This is the Picadilly Commando, and it's free to those wot come fru' the roof!"
'Well,' thought Hand-Jobb to himself, 'it might not be a worker's paradise or a heaven above, but it would do for now.'[aside/]

06-05-2007, 09:37 PM
Bravura performance, Ploughman, much better than anything that little ******* Tom Brown ever wrote.


06-07-2007, 02:28 PM
I'm revisiting Flashy's adventures out west at the moment. Wadaguy, eh? http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/winky.gif I'm thinking Rupert Everet for the films, a la his performance in A Suitable Husband, not that anyone would ever make one for fear of being stood at the hypocentre of the world's biggest 'Politically Correct' bomb if they did.

More's the pity.

Anyroad, ta for teh complement, you've soared higher though so....it says Never Ending....

"Far below Mary Stubbs rammed another one home..."

06-07-2007, 02:43 PM
The Flashman books made me what I am---cad, bounder, poltroon & Etc.

06-07-2007, 02:52 PM
Book two...

The tale of comrades Leitmov and Ploughman http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/clap.gif

two brothers fighter pilots in the Ukranian Red guards airforce..


chapter one..

"Flight Training school"

06-08-2007, 05:53 AM
Originally posted by Ploughman:
I'm revisiting Flashy's adventures out west at the moment. Wadaguy, eh? http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/winky.gif I'm thinking Rupert Everet for the films, a la his performance in A Suitable Husband, not that anyone would ever make one for fear of being stood at the hypocentre of the world's biggest 'Politically Correct' bomb if they did.

More's the pity.

Anyroad, ta for teh complement, you've soared higher though so....it says Never Ending....

"Far below Mary Stubbs rammed another one home..."

Hey Ploughman - get down to your local video boutique...




Not as good as the books, but a great effort. Same director as the Oliver Reed 'Three Musketeers' movies (in fact Reed makes a good young Bismark in this one, subtly humorous) - should give you a clue as to what you're in for. http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/16x16_smiley-wink.gif

Sorry gentlemen, interruption over, carry on...

06-08-2007, 09:17 AM
Thanks Duke, I'll keep my eye out for that one.


06-08-2007, 10:12 AM
Little did Lt. Leitmotiv know but the nefarious Ploughman had jiggered their normally reliable Lofte bombsight so that their stick of bombs sailed majestically into the Camden Canal and exploded thunderously giving a smashing climax to Corporal Jenkins' knee trembler against a shed with North Country irregular which he ever after rated his best performance tho' the dose of the clap was epic.

With a slam and a clank Mary Stubbs yelled "Ready" and Sally Barnes leveled her crosshairs on the retreating Heinkel.

"Reichsheini!" screeched Heidigger as the port Daimler ceased to be dasein. "Flak hit!" Ploughman not wishing to lessen their anxiety level and leave them enervated, dove from above, and kindly infiltrated the starboard engine with Sheffield steel. "Agggg choffffff" complained the disappointed Heinkel and gave up the ghost, pointed its streamlined snout towards the Thames, and commenced making very convincing Hollywood-type falling Axis bomber noises.

Ploughman espied the girls throwing their blouses in the air to celebrate the double play, cut his throttle urgently, dropped flaps, and was attempting an entirely unorthodox Ally Pally landing in a Spit XIV. "Crikey" said the Spit.

Meanwhile, Breeze, his normal stiffness restored, pulled the lanyard of his chute to direct his descent towards the jiggling bosoms his fighter pilot's eagle eyes discerned by the 90mm---unfortunately, his mammary concentration distracted him from the spectral Spit XIV approaching out of the murk driven by the equally distracted Ploughman...

06-09-2007, 02:55 AM
"Oooommmph" said Breeze hoist by his own...petard by the leading edge of Ploughman's wing. "I say" replied Ploughman "are you hooked by your...." "Yes" choked Breeze "land...quickly...am...in...a...oh-five...muzzle." "Bob's your uncle." Ploughman gently put the Spit down in the parking lot and came to a stop inside a conveniently placed nursery. The two heroes were soon surrounded by unbloused ack ack wenches...

06-11-2007, 03:50 AM
..."Uncork that one from teh Mother Tuppeny," yodelled a gunlaying bi-breasted nun in sheep's clothing (furry jerkin, good for the chest) pointing a slender finger at Breeze who was wriggling to get a better view. Ploughman skipped from the Spit's cockpit, the ample elbow room facilitating his egress, and was promptly mobbed by No. 21 Battery, Camden and Hackney Heavy Anti-Aeroplane and Zepplin Artillery Company (Female), he shrieked in terror as they dragged him to their plotting table.
Breeze found himself surrounded by the motor transport detachment, "This won't hurt a bit, sweety," said one bearded lovely as she advanced on his .50 calibre with 6 pounds of axle grease and an oiling can and within a few moments six girls had pulled him off and carried his limp but still grinning body into the ranging shed...

06-11-2007, 06:37 AM
(Nice work P---allergies have reduced me to a roadkill hit by 30 big rigs and 1000 SUVs---my IQ is below that of a hamster on LSD chased with a case of Buckhorn Beer, which used to go for 87 cents a six pack in 1972---that beer was used by the Air Force to strip paint off airplanes until they decided it was too hard on the airplanes---I feel like the NKVD have been using my brain for target practice...I just love California...give me London any day...argh)

06-24-2007, 04:38 AM
"Looking bad," said Captain Breeze, USAF, observing the mile long pizza hovering over Chatham lazily heading upriver at 40,000 feet. He flipped his F-22 Raptor over and had a better look at the ominous airborne trashcan lid heading for London. "What-ho? Godzilla's buttplug?" Breeze saw the contrails of twelve wheezing RAF F.3 Tornados of Hedgehog Squadron led by Squadron Leader Ploughman staggering up to formate with his sleek glossy new Raptors. "You dare pollute my airspace with those relics?" said Breeze insolently barrel rolling around Ploughman's Tornado which was inconveniently attempting to flame out and was leaving a trail of brown smoke from one dyspeptic engine...

06-25-2007, 05:09 AM
Meanwhile, thousands were gathering on Hampstead Heath to greet the aliens, while in Hyde Park a counter demonstration was under way sponsored by the anti-EU Parliamentarians who naturally were anti-alien, especially when they came in mile-wide flapjacks. PM Brown was unsure how to handle the situation. President Bush sent over Sec of State Rice with a squadron of Raptors to "monitor" the situation. The President and PM decided to take no action until the two fighter squadrons had "interacted" with the alien vessel. This suited both of them quite well because short of firing a nuke at the giant craft neither country had anything in their respective arsenals suitable to knock it down.

06-25-2007, 05:26 AM
...Gnral de brigade arienne Marcel d'Vious Le Comte de le'Itmotiff et Sassy Lorraine stepped out of the portico of the Ministry of Defence onto the sunny streets of London and immediately his razor quick gallic intellect sensed there was something wrong. It was dark as a Paris night.
'Pfftetuffty,' he thought to himself. 'Le despatch meteorolgic de la Academie Science de Nebulae et Precipitation assured moi that it would be tre' sunny aujourd'hui dans cette ville tre fecking *****!' He looked up expecting to see another insidious Anglo-Saxon cloud obscuring the vivid Sol'de Francais.
"***** de la vache!" He spluttered in astonishment. "C'est il est plus grand que General de Gaul's frekin' ego!"
Far above a gigantic saucer shaped object that was the shape of a giant saucer rotated slowly, partially obscured by clouds.
"Assez de la rfrence Rose de Floyd!" Demanded Le Comte de le'Itmotiff. "C'est le invasion trangre!"
'Finally,' thought le Gnral de brigade arienne. 'Francais can pay back that irritating niggley debt from le World Wars and save some Anglo-Saxon deriere for once.'
His visiting le staffel of Rafaels was parked at le secret aeroport de ville de Londre code named Mornington Crescent, right beneath the alien mega ship. He leaped out in front of a black taxi, distracted by thoughts of glory. Perhaps he might even have a cheese named after him, 'le fromage Le Comte de le'Itmotiff!'
"Arret," he cried to the monoglot cockney behind the wheel of the speeding hackney cab.
"Wot woz that mate?" Shouted the cabby as he shot by, flamboyantly waving a Churchillian hand gesture at Le Comte as he bounced off the pavement.
"Imbecile! C'est la Guerre des Etoiles!"
"U wot! Oi'd luv ta help ya' mate but oi neva seen Star Wars!" Retorted the receding cabbie.
There was only one thing for it, he needed to get to Mornington Crescent and he would have to use the Underground.

06-25-2007, 06:01 AM
No sooner had Capt Breeze completed his exuberant maneuver than he noticed out of the corner of his eye... "Bloody Hell!" *********d Sqd Ldr Ploughman as "Egret's Arse", the airborne command post, lit up his instrument panel with red warnings and bashed his brain with shouts "UFO FIRING WEAPONS! ALERT!" Breeze never had a chance to get the message---his pretty Raptor was distributed nicely over Greenwich and Breeze himself was tumbling bare---ed at 40,000 feet embarrassed in more ways than could be counted. "Damn" he thought and I had tickets to Love with Paris Hilton's strumpet sister tonight. Fortunately, he landed with a thump on the spacecraft which was moving at a stately pace. He was in no danger of being swept off. A hatch opened and out stepped a woman in a tight G-suit which caused Breeze to undergo the physical transformation which was intimately associated with his name...

06-25-2007, 06:16 AM
...earlier at Downing street.
"Look Gordon, I know you're taking over on Wednesday but I'm still the PM OK, so what I say goes,"
"I'll let you talk to George on the phone if you let me call the shots," replied Gordon.
"OK, I'll seem important that way and if it all goes breasts up by the weekend everyone'll blame you,"
"That's right Tony, no need to dodge responsibility on this one, if there's any responsibility that needs a quick body swerve, I'll be doing it from now on."
The door to the Offal Office opened and General Muthby stepped in.
"Aren't the help supposed to knock," asked Gordon of Tony out of the side of his mouth.
"Bloody military," replied Tony. "Scare me half to death when they just walk in, keep on thinking it's a coup."
"Prime Minister, not yet Prime Minister," said the General to Tony and Gordon. "An alien ship the size of a Home County has hoved into view over East London."
"You want Hove to be a home country?" Asked Gordon.
The Tony and General looked at Gordon.
"No, he said there's an alien ship."
Well can't you get the navy to deal with it?" replied Gordon.
"Look Gordon is a moron, bear with me" said Tony to the General. "Gordon. Alien ships don't float in water, they fly in the sky. So the Navy's no use. Remember that documentary we watched about the destruction of La La Land where the drunk with the Winebago flew his fighter into the maw of the alien space ship. That's right, well that's happening here now."
The phone rang.
"President Bush for you Prime Minister," said the PA.
Tony picked up the dog and bone, "George, what grooves baby?"
"Yo Blair, howz goin' bo1tch?"
"Stuff, diggin it. Say, your hommies tell you we got alienz?"
"You too? Those Mexicuns ah everywhere. I can do you a great deal on 600 km of fence."
"No holmes, not those muchahcos, I mean ALIENZ, they all slimey and green and sh1t."
"Like those dudes what did LA?"
"OMFG!!!!!!111111ELEVEN11111!!!!OMFG-ALIENZXXXR0XX0RRZZZZ. You see that laser gun thing they got, blowz u away. You are so screwed. Nuke it dude, nuke it.
"Tempted hermano, tempted, excepting i own some real estate in that area and it's value would be adversely affected by having a billion tons of radioactive alien space ship raining down on it so I thought of sending up some of our bone idle air force to have a chat with them."
"Go girl, I'll send a staffel of whatever's handy and that skinny girl with the big smile who's always telling me stuff.."
"No way, that's **** food."

06-25-2007, 08:01 AM
General de brigade aerienne Marcel d'Vious LeComte de le'Itmotiff et Sassy Lorraine was staring at the London Underground map at the Embankment tube station by the Ministry of Defence. To any denizen of the great London metropolis, it would have been a snap to get to the outer reaches of the city, but, to a diplomat used to being driven about in a limo, the task was all but impossible. Add to that, the incomprehensible---there was Mornington Crescent right there on the map. "Impossible" said the gormstruck General de brigade.

06-25-2007, 09:36 AM
He turned to a passing Londonite.
"Pardon my spud munching ami, I am trying to get to le Mornington Crescent but it is clearly shown her on le map."
The Londonite eyed him suspiciously for a moment.
"Yer wot?"
General de brigade aerienne Marcel d'Vious LeComte de le'Itmotiff et Sassy Lorraine sighed to himself, 'les Anglais.'
"I am a senior officer in the air forces of the Republic of France and I need to get to Mornington Crescent but it is clearly shown here on le cart...le map. Can you help me please."
"You wanner go by the Embankment mate," said a helpful cockney whose attention had been drawn to le Comte.
"But I am at the Embankement!" Replied Le' Itmotiff.
"Pukka advice innit," confirmed the cockney as he clandestinely relieved Le'Itmotiff of his wallet.

Meanwhile, high above the esturine Thames a stiff Breeze wafted in through a hatch on the surface of the interstellar giga-craft, following the softly scented trail of the vivicious space alien...

08-13-2007, 03:06 AM
Meanwhile at Biggin Hill, it was all business.
Mechanics and armourers worked feverishly on a line of Supermarine Spitfires.
Feathered_IV, who had been working on a Westland Strumpet, wandered out from between the hangars and did up his flies. "Ah!" he said with some satisfaction, "We seem to have reached the middle of this story."

08-13-2007, 09:03 AM
"There is more to come!," said Sqd Ldr Basher St Blaise as he aimed his complaining Whitley at the favorite Berlin knocking shop of Galland and the rest of the beastly hun 109 crowd. "I intend to personally knock out the HQ of every German fighter Geschwader in France in one fell swoop!" "That is, if I can just get my bearings through at least 30 searchlights and all this annoying ack ack...."

08-13-2007, 09:32 AM
Basher has a go at Berlin..."A cracking biff"


08-13-2007, 09:39 AM
Nice pic - obviously influenced by Picasso and Aboriginal art. The vibrant use of colour an ideal juxtaposition to the monochrome of 'Guernica' which has so obviously influenced the artist. The crocodile-like aeroplane a clear nod to the carvings to be found on Uluru, whilst symbolically reminding the viewer that war, like the crocodile is a prehistoric animal that most of us would not like to meet.

08-13-2007, 09:50 AM

08-13-2007, 09:59 AM
Now do a bunny rabbit

08-13-2007, 07:32 PM
Great thread *UBER BUMPAGE*

08-14-2007, 04:20 AM
...Breeze emptied his 1911 into the rabbit, it whimpered softly to itself and hobbled off to find a hole to lay in. 'Tough bunny,' thought Breeze to himself as he slapped another magazine into the butt of his pistol.
He noticed the sharp flashes of anti-aircraft fire over a distant city and remembered his mission wasn't pestering Pomeranian vermin but taking down the Nazi regime. He strode off through the night, destination Berlin.

08-14-2007, 06:14 AM
Galland and Wick were enjoying a post-debauch crate of champagne on the roof of the popular Wilde Sau bordello and gourmet restaurant while jodhpur-clad lovelies in Luftwaffe blouses (undone) saw to their every insatiable need. "I say Wick, old beast (Luftwaffe fighter pilots liked to imitate Hollywood RAF pilots)," drolled Galland, "if I am not mistaken, there is a disreputable, ramshackle, rat's *** of a British bomber headed right for this building." Wick, whose face was currently hidden by the enveloping bosoms of Fraulein Lola dressed in a powder blue imitation Hermann uniform, was unable to coherently reply "mummpphhhhhhh." "You'll have to dislodge your gob from Happy Valley, Wick, I bloody well can't understand what you are saying." Wick's lanky arm managed to form a point right at Basher's rapidly descending Whitley "murmphhhhaaaaaaaaaa!!!!" "Quite agree, old top, I do believe you two are scuppered," summarized Moelders looking up from a thick volume of Calvinist theology---the only male in the building not immovably drunk or rendered witless by incessant rogering, and with that he athletically hurled himself off the roof onto the adjoining building's fire escape with an echoing "Hals und beinbruch!"

Basher was concentrating on the prominent target right next to the huge Luftwaffe Ministry complex. Rather stupidly the German flyboys had painted a pink bull's eye on the roof one stuporous afternoon after consuming a truckload of booty champagne recently sacked from General French's supply train abandoned at Dunkirk. "Convenient they painted that t--ty pink target on the roof, eh Basher?" guffawed his second pilot shutting his eyes as the eccentric, which is to say outside of RAF circles, totally mad, Sqd Ldr once again Pressed On Regardless as if he were still flying a HP 0/400 against the Red Baron's HQ at Douai.

08-14-2007, 06:33 AM
Sinuses are better then Leit? http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/16x16_smiley-very-happy.gif

08-14-2007, 07:12 AM

08-14-2007, 07:35 AM
With a loud metallic groaning, Basher managed to pull out in perfect alignment for his cold-blooded bombardier-navigator, "Eggs" Benedict, who had been with him in the last go against the hun, to toggle the four 500-lb HE bombs right at the base of the Wilde Sau. "Bombs gone, Basher, now get the hell out of here!" he said noticing the Whitley was passing right over the Reich's Chancellery. "Skipper, I just put a burst into a bloke who was either Charley Chaplin or Adolf hisself" yelled Grundger Ditmore the tail gunner, "he was standing on the balcony pointing at me, and I was taught pointing is rude."

"%%##!!!%%##!!!" muttered Der Dicke, the new Chancellor of the Reich, kicking the rubble of the Wilde Sau, "I told those drunken prima donnas to party down someplace less obvious."

08-14-2007, 07:48 AM
WARNING TO YOUNG READERS: Elements of the preceding were counter-factual, and should not be construed to be history. Luftwaffe fighter pilots did not paint a target on the roof of a Berlin knocking shop in October 1940, and Werner Moelders was incapable of leaping from tall buildings like Superman.

08-14-2007, 08:40 AM
Basher aims for the t--ty pink target


08-14-2007, 09:10 AM
Great idea! With illustrations I think we can reach out to an even bigger audience. I might get my biro out.

08-14-2007, 09:17 AM
Again, deliberately primitive, yet laden with symbolism. The target an inviting pink hole, the cockpit has become a praying mantis, arms outstretched, inviting the viewer in to be devoured. Perhaps more Klimmt than Goya, the two brown balls representing boyish machismo - full of male confidence, yet so vulnerable the nearer they approach their target, becoming perhaps targets themselves. Here, again, we clearly witness another prehistoric ritual in symbolic form - the masculine being lured and destroyed by the feminine.

08-14-2007, 11:34 AM
Too perfect, Low_Flyer, bravura performance! Reminds me of a paper I once wrote on Ingres' "Roger and Angelica"---the prof was a Cambridge materialist and he sent me to Coventry!

Go for it Ploughman---let's make this a full-service satire!

08-14-2007, 04:36 PM
Basher's blitz hits the press. http://forums.ubi.com/groupee_common/emoticons/icon_wink.gif


08-14-2007, 07:53 PM
http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/88.gif http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/88.gif http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/88.gif http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/88.gif http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/88.gif http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/11.gif http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/11.gif http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/11.gif http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/11.gif http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/11.gif

08-14-2007, 09:28 PM
Meanwhile, on the alien spaceship, the still naked Capt Breeze was discovering he had gotten himself into a real ringer this time. "You have been a bad poodle, haven't you!" said the black leather clad C.O. of the spaceship. She emphasized this point with a sharp crack of her Bond Street quality cane across an instrument panel. "Yes, I have been a bad doggy" replied Breeze through his teeth. "I do not detect enough penitence from the bad, bad doggy!" she corrected in a very menacing tone. "WOOF WOOF" said the Capt with his tongue hanging out obligingly. "That's better." "Prepare to dismount the shock troops from the ship" she said to a junior officer decked out like something out of Sacher-Masoch's Venus in Furs. "Yessir."

Breeze had quickly sussed the entire ship was womanned by, apparently, don't want to be too quick to judge before the facts are in, dominatrixes. Having lived in the UK, and having had the experience of using phone booths in certain posh areas of London where the business cards of such ladies just about blocked the view out of the booths' windows, he had a certain knowledge of the trade.

08-15-2007, 04:25 AM
Aboard the bridge of the Starship Dominata, the huge viewscreen blinked into life, and the consoles began to flash expensively.

The sleekly clad CO excused herself from the still-naked Breeze and bent low over the control panel. In the sudden silence, her leather catsuit creaked ominously .

"Tell me Mr. Breeze," she said. "Have you ever been slingshot around a black hole?"
"That depends," replied the still-naked Breeze. "Have you ever been swung around by the tits?"
The CO looked back over her shoulder and eyed Breeze sternly, "Of course" she said contemptuously.....

08-15-2007, 05:51 AM
Breeze was beginning to realize there was some kind of nefarious plot at work. The giant ship appeared to be engaged in releasing a huge invasion fleet right over the Houses of Parliament.

Coincidentally, on the ground, standing by Cromwell's statue, was Special Agent F_IV of the Australian intelligence service, well known for his quick wits and ruthless cunning...

08-15-2007, 05:59 AM
....who patted a passing pigeon on the ******, looked up at the bronze visage above and said, "Holy sh1t wood yer looke at the soize of that bloody eeernormus spaceship! That thing's bigger than me oppo's nads after he got bit in the junglies boi that bloody spoida wot lived in the dunny."
'Probably a filthy bosche trick,' thought F_IV whose inner voice was Etonian.

08-15-2007, 06:41 AM
"Strewth!" F_IV further exclaimed in crusty antipodean vernacular, "I was due to give my presentation on the Westland Strumpet to the Minister of Defence at eleven thirty!"...

08-15-2007, 06:46 AM
is this porn?

seriously funny

08-15-2007, 07:34 AM
Breeze realized he was going to have to act quickly to prevent whatever it was these women had in mind, but he was guarded by six buff workout queens in silver-gray metallic spandex who had automatic rifles aimed at him...

Meanwhile, Breeze's wingman, Lt Billfish, saw the hatch in the belly of the monster craft open and release thousands of women dressed like...dominatrixes. "WTF?" said the Lt. "Repeat" said Egret's Arse impatiently. "Um, wal" she said adopting a Chuck Yeager West Virginia accent "appears London is being attacked by a swarm of dominatrixes." "Looks like the primary target is the Houses of Parliament." They are descending by, you ain't gunna believe this..."

08-15-2007, 08:09 AM
"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!!" Shouted the PM, slamming down the telephone. "Call an emergency meeting! There's an army of dominatrix's descending on...." The Secretary of Defence burst into the room, "Mister Prime Minister.....YOU ARE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE THIS!!!"