ledded
Herder of monkies
We were like gods once... [having it handed to them]
Here is another update by popular demand...
…
Klaus leapt over the low wall the groß Amerikanischer affe had been recently taking cover behind, the fire from his machine guns spracking into the wall as he ducked below the rim. Another of his men was already there, looking at him grimly as he also took cover. The massive Amerikanischer, obviously an ubermensch of some kind, had gunned down the remainder of his squad, several of their own bullets bouncing off of him as they charged.
He heard the click-click-click of the man’s weapons, smiling to himself. We have him now.
He nodded silently to his remaining squad member, and made the hand signals telling him to provide covering fire with his machine pistol and Klaus would then take the shot with his Kar98, ridding the Reich of another annoying allied pest. These Americans, so arrogant and stupid.
The other soldier rose up, then immediately something flashed by and with a CRUNCH the soldier spun, his face a horribly distorted and broken mass of flesh and shattered bone. His body fell twitching next to Klaus, who decided to hunker down a bit deeper under cover. Maybe the ape will forget I was here…
Klaus heard a tearing sound, and then moments later a strange whistling. He looked up reflexively, eyes going wide at the sight of the entire front end of a smoldering Kubelwagon sailing down out of the sky at him.
“Mutter!” Klaus squealed as he brought both hands protectively over his helmet, and then was crushed under the impact of several hundred pounds of smoking steel.
Moose dusted his hands off, nodding grimly to himself, and turned back to check on Smitty.
…
Smitty opened his eyes at the sound of close gunfire.
Moose was standing over him, battered and torn and bleeding, blazing away with his BARs and yelling like a madman as a squad of Germans charged them from across the street.
He saw several fall under the withering fire, while two jumped over a low retaining wall and took cover just as Moose’s guns ran dry.
Smitty saw Moose then drop one BAR and quickly flip the other over in his hand, grabbing it by the forward part of the stock, heedless of the hot barrel. He held it back like a baseball player, poised and peering intently at the low wall.
Just then he saw movement as a Kraut helmet began rising up and Moose flung the BAR at that spot, the rifle streaking away like a javelin. Moose leapt away without looking and lumbered over to the smoking remains of a German jeep while his rifle all but decapitated the Nazi. Moose hoisted the jeep debris over his head, grunting as he braced to throw.
No one appeared.
Squinting, Moose started to take a step that way and then stopped, looking upwards with his tongue between his teeth as if lost in thought.
Well, I guess he aint the sharpest pencil in the cup, thought Smitty, checking himself.
He did a good job with these bandages, though. Smitty could feel his unnaturally fast healing already trying to knit together the torn flesh and broken bone. It would take a while, but he was alive for now.
He heard Moose grunt, and glancing up Smitty saw Moose had taken an underhand grip on his burden, and then swung it up from the ground violently letting it go to rise up some distance into the air.
It sailed back down trailing smoke, and there was a short scream right before it hit the ground near the first German, making a loud clang accompanied by a sickening crunch that instantly cut off the scream.
Hell. I guess he aint as stupid as I thought.
Moose turned, looking satisfied with himself as he dusted off his hands, and smiled at Smitty when he saw him awake.
“Hey, how ya doin’ there eh?” he shouted over to Smitty.
Smitty started to try to yell to him.
“Better… get cover… snip…”, but then Moose stumbled forward, something hitting him from behind in the shoulder. He spun in a lazy circle as he fell, blood spraying as he went down.
His body crashed to the ground. Moose tried to raise himself up on shaking hands, but after a few inches he collapsed, unmoving, back to the street.
Smitty shook his head and sighed. Maybe he isn’t that bright after all.
Smitty drug himself carefully towards Moose, cautious not to expose himself to the line of fire from the German sniper.
As he got close to Moose’s unmoving form, he whispered “Hey! Hey Moose! You alright?”
Moose’s head picked up and turned towards Smitty, looking quite childishly miserable as he spoke.
“Eh Smitty... you 'bout ready to leave yet?”
Smitty just shook his head again, smiling this time.
“Yeah Moose, I’ve had just about enough of this sh*t. Go find the others and let’s bug out”.
…
Frogbot heard the sounds of renewed battle and looked up from where he had just disassembled several Germans who were chasing down fleeing paratroopers.
Sonic analysis… small arms fire consistent with American calibers in use.
Supposition: Allied Talents have arrived. Sensors indicate energy signatures disturbing normal flow readings… use of Talents confirmed.
Action: Aid Allies in completion of mission.
Search and Destroy all Nazi opposition.
And then Frogbot smiled.
Warning: sudden anomalous energy surges throughout unit inconsistent with programming… similar to sensation directives… surges non-harmful?
Answer: Calculating… 98% certainty that sensation directive is of… anticipation.
Unit unaware of previous programming of ‘anticipation’. Calculated possible increase in mission performance by 12%.
Core programming intact, unit… approves.
“Viva la France” he whispered, and skittered off into the buildings in the direction of the Arnhem bridge.
…
A short while later, Frogbot surveyed the scene from the third story of a bomb-shattered building near the book store.
Analysis: Allied Enhanced Soldier Subjects maintaining a variety of Talents in the immediate vicinity. Axis opposition gauged to be of high threat levels and effectiveness. Multiple armor entities and numerous soldier-flesh entities in existence.
Frogbot watched as Hank flew over the church, flinging mines at the tanks before being nearly shot several times. As Hank ran into the bookstore, Frogbot saw John enter melee with a large group of Germans, somehow detonating a flamethrower to kill several at once before taking cover in a destroyed building and taking more shots at German infantry. Another American with Talent was shooting with accuracy at Nazi targets.
Correction: not accuracy. Certainty.
Frogbot heard noise and saw several Germans run by below his building, intending to reinforce the Nazis facing the beleaguered allies. He saw Hank jump through a window of the book store and run, stumbling, towards the burning church; his path put him on an intersection with the approaching Germans.
Analysis: Intervention necessary. Mission and allied personnel are in immediate threat of termination.
Recommendation: Attack.
Snikt went Frogbot’s claws as he leaned out of the shattered window and, with a quick glance, buried both hands into the side of the building.
Raising both feet in a most un-human-like manner, he planted both of them below the window sill and then scurried down the side of the building, using his claws and strength to speedily scale the wall.
He hit the ground, gathered his legs under him, and bounded at the four Nazis moving towards the church.
The first soldier never knew what severed his ribcage and spine as Frogbot’s hand entered his left side. The soldier just ahead beside him turned and began to yell.
Frogbot stood there; both arms extended outwards, and smoothly continued his swing by spinning at the waist without moving his legs.
His right hand tore the remaining way through the first soldier and slashed across the chest of the second, stifling his cry. Before the second soldier could react the opposite clawed hand reached him and tore off his left arm at the shoulder and the first swung back around disemboweling him. Gurgling, he fell.
Their sergeant turned around and immediately brought his rifle up to fire.
Frogbot ceased spinning, stepped towards him and with an incredibly fast upwards flick of his hands left the sergeant incredulously holding nothing but the stock of his rifle.
“My claws are sharp! Much like the sharp cheddar from the Auvergne region of France!” Frogbot stated, smiling, to the sergeant.
He sprung at the Nazi and swung in both claws with blinding speed; the sergeant’s head and upper torso separated in clean sections from his lower body and slid messily to the ground in three large pieces.
“Which is of course the finest cheddar in all ze world!” finished Frogbot, examining the body.
The remaining Nazi screamed and turned to flee.
Frogbot’s head snapped up as he simultaneously flicked both hands to remove the blood.
“No no, mon ami, it eez quite grossier of you to leave ze dinner table wizzout thanking le chef!” Frogbot called after the fleeing German as he took several rapidly gaining steps in the man’s direction and then bounded onto his back, knocking him to the ground.
Sitting on the small of his back, Frogbot pushed both clawed hands completely through the top of the Nazi’s shoulders all the way to the ground, whose screams cut to an agonized, choking whimper.
The man began violently shuddering and spasming, making a horrible gurgling moan as Frogbot slowly drew both clawed hands down through his back, the tips drawing furrows in the ground beneath him. The sounds of bones snapping, flesh parting, and the man’s thrashing were accompanied by Frogbot’s nonchalant humming of the French National anthem.
When he reached the soldier’s lower back, Frogbot stood off of the twitching Nazi and flung both clawed hands out to the side, thick gore spattering him and the ground around him.
“Voila! Pate!”
He looked around smiling, but there was no one near enough to enjoy his clever remark as gobbets of flesh and lung tissue slowly plopped off of his claws to the ground.
Frogbot shrugged, flung the remaining effluence off of his claws, and bounded towards where Hank had his back against the burning church’s wall, looking around wildly.
…
Hank had burst through the window, running across an open space narrowly avoiding sniper fire and bursts from an MP40 as his legs pumped him over to the wall of the church. He stopped, gasping, to catch his breath.
He was tired, and very sore from the beating he had been taking. He had gotten shook up in an exploding airplane, been shot several times, and blown up (ok, he did the blowing up, but it still hurt); now he was on the run from the invisible swordsman? Man it was just about time to get the hell out of here.
Hank went to move, stopped as he heard rapid footsteps coming in his direction. He looked around quickly, not being able to see where they were coming from.
Then he noticed footprints in the dust in front of him just as he heard someone yell out “Ha!”
Hank grunted, perplexed, and looked down. He could see blood welling next to his ribcage, heard the sound of something metal hit the wall behind him. Then the pain hit, an exquisitely strange and intrusive sensation of having something metal pushed through your insides.
Hank’s eyes rolled up in his head and he coughed a mouthful of blood onto der Unsichtbar Schwertfecter as the German duelist withdrew his blade, allowing Hank’s body to fall to the ground.
The man stood there a moment, chuckling to himself, nearly missing the sound of Frogbot’s approach.
Not seeing him, the strange creature stepped up to the American, whose eyes were flickering.
Der Unsichtbar Schwertfecter stepped back and, smiling, readied his sword to take another life.
Frogbot bent towards Hank.
“Oui? Monsieur? Are you alright, oui? Do you require my assistance?” he inquired as Hank peered up at him through fading eyes.
“What the… hell…” he sputtered, blood flecking his lips.
“Oh! I am Frogbot! French Resistance Operative Guerilla-Built Operational Trooper, at your service! It seems, mon ami, that you have been gravely wounded, no?” replied Frogbot happily.
Hank tried to point but his hand kept shaking and falling.
“Invis… invis… invisible… ubermensch…” Hank began and then slumped over.
Frogbot immediately turned, his eyes going red as scanning lenses fell over them.
Query: Potential ubermensch in area. Initiate scan 874971 alpha protocols.
Scan: Axis ubermensch displaying multiple Talent energy signatures detected. Warning: initiate defens…
Der Schwertfecter lunged at Frogbot, sure that he was about to lay his neck wide open.
With stunning quickness, Frogbot dodged away from the blow, instead taking a long rake down his side. The flesh parted and oozed a strange yellowish-white substance that smelled vaguely like cheese.
Damage to unit non-structural in nature… activate self repair and electrical stimulation of reclamation enzymes.
“How…” began the duelist but immediately began countering moves from the creature in front of him, claws springing unnaturally from it’s fingertips as it hummed something that sounded… French.
They fought like slashing beasts, the duelist showing up as a splotch of red to Frogbot’s sensors, giving him a slight advantage but not quite that of being totally invisible.
Frogbot connected once, twice, and human blood splashed the ground.
Just then, Frogbot heard someone behind him say, in a deep rumbling voice, “Just what the hell is that, eh?”
Frogbot turned to see an enormous young human, dressed as an allied soldier in a uniform shredded and bloodied, cradling the other unconscious American’s head and trying to wrap a bandage around his wounds.
Frogbot turned back quickly, but the German with the sword had fled.
He walked back towards the huge American and his dying ally.
“Ah, oui Monsieur, I am ze Frogbot! I am here to help you win ze war against Nazi oppression!” he spoke except that “oppression” sounded more like “oh-press-e-OH” to Moose, who just stared at him and blinked slowly.
“Um, yeah, great dere. Can ya help me with this?”, Moose asked.
Frogbot nodded, and as he knelt by Hank and Moose, continued.
“Win ze war for France! Ze greatest country in all ze world! Her hills are verdant, her…” Frogbot trailed off as small flags zipped out of compartments on his shoulders and the French national anthem blared from a tinny sounding speaker in his chest.
Moose let him ramble as they fixed Hank’s bandages, then stood ready to hoist Hank up.
“Hey, you haven’t happened to see another Joe over here have ya? Fella name o’ John Brigh..” Moose started and then stopped in mid-sentence, mouth hanging open.
The third tank had maneuvered around and was in the street by the Tiger Hank had disabled, main gun turning to stop pointed right at them while Frogbot continued to chatter on about France.
Moose rolled his eyes and tensed.
“Oh no, not again…”
PHOOM!
Here is another update by popular demand...
…
Klaus leapt over the low wall the groß Amerikanischer affe had been recently taking cover behind, the fire from his machine guns spracking into the wall as he ducked below the rim. Another of his men was already there, looking at him grimly as he also took cover. The massive Amerikanischer, obviously an ubermensch of some kind, had gunned down the remainder of his squad, several of their own bullets bouncing off of him as they charged.
He heard the click-click-click of the man’s weapons, smiling to himself. We have him now.
He nodded silently to his remaining squad member, and made the hand signals telling him to provide covering fire with his machine pistol and Klaus would then take the shot with his Kar98, ridding the Reich of another annoying allied pest. These Americans, so arrogant and stupid.
The other soldier rose up, then immediately something flashed by and with a CRUNCH the soldier spun, his face a horribly distorted and broken mass of flesh and shattered bone. His body fell twitching next to Klaus, who decided to hunker down a bit deeper under cover. Maybe the ape will forget I was here…
Klaus heard a tearing sound, and then moments later a strange whistling. He looked up reflexively, eyes going wide at the sight of the entire front end of a smoldering Kubelwagon sailing down out of the sky at him.
“Mutter!” Klaus squealed as he brought both hands protectively over his helmet, and then was crushed under the impact of several hundred pounds of smoking steel.
Moose dusted his hands off, nodding grimly to himself, and turned back to check on Smitty.
…
Smitty opened his eyes at the sound of close gunfire.
Moose was standing over him, battered and torn and bleeding, blazing away with his BARs and yelling like a madman as a squad of Germans charged them from across the street.
He saw several fall under the withering fire, while two jumped over a low retaining wall and took cover just as Moose’s guns ran dry.
Smitty saw Moose then drop one BAR and quickly flip the other over in his hand, grabbing it by the forward part of the stock, heedless of the hot barrel. He held it back like a baseball player, poised and peering intently at the low wall.
Just then he saw movement as a Kraut helmet began rising up and Moose flung the BAR at that spot, the rifle streaking away like a javelin. Moose leapt away without looking and lumbered over to the smoking remains of a German jeep while his rifle all but decapitated the Nazi. Moose hoisted the jeep debris over his head, grunting as he braced to throw.
No one appeared.
Squinting, Moose started to take a step that way and then stopped, looking upwards with his tongue between his teeth as if lost in thought.
Well, I guess he aint the sharpest pencil in the cup, thought Smitty, checking himself.
He did a good job with these bandages, though. Smitty could feel his unnaturally fast healing already trying to knit together the torn flesh and broken bone. It would take a while, but he was alive for now.
He heard Moose grunt, and glancing up Smitty saw Moose had taken an underhand grip on his burden, and then swung it up from the ground violently letting it go to rise up some distance into the air.
It sailed back down trailing smoke, and there was a short scream right before it hit the ground near the first German, making a loud clang accompanied by a sickening crunch that instantly cut off the scream.
Hell. I guess he aint as stupid as I thought.
Moose turned, looking satisfied with himself as he dusted off his hands, and smiled at Smitty when he saw him awake.
“Hey, how ya doin’ there eh?” he shouted over to Smitty.
Smitty started to try to yell to him.
“Better… get cover… snip…”, but then Moose stumbled forward, something hitting him from behind in the shoulder. He spun in a lazy circle as he fell, blood spraying as he went down.
His body crashed to the ground. Moose tried to raise himself up on shaking hands, but after a few inches he collapsed, unmoving, back to the street.
Smitty shook his head and sighed. Maybe he isn’t that bright after all.
Smitty drug himself carefully towards Moose, cautious not to expose himself to the line of fire from the German sniper.
As he got close to Moose’s unmoving form, he whispered “Hey! Hey Moose! You alright?”
Moose’s head picked up and turned towards Smitty, looking quite childishly miserable as he spoke.
“Eh Smitty... you 'bout ready to leave yet?”
Smitty just shook his head again, smiling this time.
“Yeah Moose, I’ve had just about enough of this sh*t. Go find the others and let’s bug out”.
…
Frogbot heard the sounds of renewed battle and looked up from where he had just disassembled several Germans who were chasing down fleeing paratroopers.
Sonic analysis… small arms fire consistent with American calibers in use.
Supposition: Allied Talents have arrived. Sensors indicate energy signatures disturbing normal flow readings… use of Talents confirmed.
Action: Aid Allies in completion of mission.
Search and Destroy all Nazi opposition.
And then Frogbot smiled.
Warning: sudden anomalous energy surges throughout unit inconsistent with programming… similar to sensation directives… surges non-harmful?
Answer: Calculating… 98% certainty that sensation directive is of… anticipation.
Unit unaware of previous programming of ‘anticipation’. Calculated possible increase in mission performance by 12%.
Core programming intact, unit… approves.
“Viva la France” he whispered, and skittered off into the buildings in the direction of the Arnhem bridge.
…
A short while later, Frogbot surveyed the scene from the third story of a bomb-shattered building near the book store.
Analysis: Allied Enhanced Soldier Subjects maintaining a variety of Talents in the immediate vicinity. Axis opposition gauged to be of high threat levels and effectiveness. Multiple armor entities and numerous soldier-flesh entities in existence.
Frogbot watched as Hank flew over the church, flinging mines at the tanks before being nearly shot several times. As Hank ran into the bookstore, Frogbot saw John enter melee with a large group of Germans, somehow detonating a flamethrower to kill several at once before taking cover in a destroyed building and taking more shots at German infantry. Another American with Talent was shooting with accuracy at Nazi targets.
Correction: not accuracy. Certainty.
Frogbot heard noise and saw several Germans run by below his building, intending to reinforce the Nazis facing the beleaguered allies. He saw Hank jump through a window of the book store and run, stumbling, towards the burning church; his path put him on an intersection with the approaching Germans.
Analysis: Intervention necessary. Mission and allied personnel are in immediate threat of termination.
Recommendation: Attack.
Snikt went Frogbot’s claws as he leaned out of the shattered window and, with a quick glance, buried both hands into the side of the building.
Raising both feet in a most un-human-like manner, he planted both of them below the window sill and then scurried down the side of the building, using his claws and strength to speedily scale the wall.
He hit the ground, gathered his legs under him, and bounded at the four Nazis moving towards the church.
The first soldier never knew what severed his ribcage and spine as Frogbot’s hand entered his left side. The soldier just ahead beside him turned and began to yell.
Frogbot stood there; both arms extended outwards, and smoothly continued his swing by spinning at the waist without moving his legs.
His right hand tore the remaining way through the first soldier and slashed across the chest of the second, stifling his cry. Before the second soldier could react the opposite clawed hand reached him and tore off his left arm at the shoulder and the first swung back around disemboweling him. Gurgling, he fell.
Their sergeant turned around and immediately brought his rifle up to fire.
Frogbot ceased spinning, stepped towards him and with an incredibly fast upwards flick of his hands left the sergeant incredulously holding nothing but the stock of his rifle.
“My claws are sharp! Much like the sharp cheddar from the Auvergne region of France!” Frogbot stated, smiling, to the sergeant.
He sprung at the Nazi and swung in both claws with blinding speed; the sergeant’s head and upper torso separated in clean sections from his lower body and slid messily to the ground in three large pieces.
“Which is of course the finest cheddar in all ze world!” finished Frogbot, examining the body.
The remaining Nazi screamed and turned to flee.
Frogbot’s head snapped up as he simultaneously flicked both hands to remove the blood.
“No no, mon ami, it eez quite grossier of you to leave ze dinner table wizzout thanking le chef!” Frogbot called after the fleeing German as he took several rapidly gaining steps in the man’s direction and then bounded onto his back, knocking him to the ground.
Sitting on the small of his back, Frogbot pushed both clawed hands completely through the top of the Nazi’s shoulders all the way to the ground, whose screams cut to an agonized, choking whimper.
The man began violently shuddering and spasming, making a horrible gurgling moan as Frogbot slowly drew both clawed hands down through his back, the tips drawing furrows in the ground beneath him. The sounds of bones snapping, flesh parting, and the man’s thrashing were accompanied by Frogbot’s nonchalant humming of the French National anthem.
When he reached the soldier’s lower back, Frogbot stood off of the twitching Nazi and flung both clawed hands out to the side, thick gore spattering him and the ground around him.
“Voila! Pate!”
He looked around smiling, but there was no one near enough to enjoy his clever remark as gobbets of flesh and lung tissue slowly plopped off of his claws to the ground.
Frogbot shrugged, flung the remaining effluence off of his claws, and bounded towards where Hank had his back against the burning church’s wall, looking around wildly.
…
Hank had burst through the window, running across an open space narrowly avoiding sniper fire and bursts from an MP40 as his legs pumped him over to the wall of the church. He stopped, gasping, to catch his breath.
He was tired, and very sore from the beating he had been taking. He had gotten shook up in an exploding airplane, been shot several times, and blown up (ok, he did the blowing up, but it still hurt); now he was on the run from the invisible swordsman? Man it was just about time to get the hell out of here.
Hank went to move, stopped as he heard rapid footsteps coming in his direction. He looked around quickly, not being able to see where they were coming from.
Then he noticed footprints in the dust in front of him just as he heard someone yell out “Ha!”
Hank grunted, perplexed, and looked down. He could see blood welling next to his ribcage, heard the sound of something metal hit the wall behind him. Then the pain hit, an exquisitely strange and intrusive sensation of having something metal pushed through your insides.
Hank’s eyes rolled up in his head and he coughed a mouthful of blood onto der Unsichtbar Schwertfecter as the German duelist withdrew his blade, allowing Hank’s body to fall to the ground.
The man stood there a moment, chuckling to himself, nearly missing the sound of Frogbot’s approach.
Not seeing him, the strange creature stepped up to the American, whose eyes were flickering.
Der Unsichtbar Schwertfecter stepped back and, smiling, readied his sword to take another life.
Frogbot bent towards Hank.
“Oui? Monsieur? Are you alright, oui? Do you require my assistance?” he inquired as Hank peered up at him through fading eyes.
“What the… hell…” he sputtered, blood flecking his lips.
“Oh! I am Frogbot! French Resistance Operative Guerilla-Built Operational Trooper, at your service! It seems, mon ami, that you have been gravely wounded, no?” replied Frogbot happily.
Hank tried to point but his hand kept shaking and falling.
“Invis… invis… invisible… ubermensch…” Hank began and then slumped over.
Frogbot immediately turned, his eyes going red as scanning lenses fell over them.
Query: Potential ubermensch in area. Initiate scan 874971 alpha protocols.
Scan: Axis ubermensch displaying multiple Talent energy signatures detected. Warning: initiate defens…
Der Schwertfecter lunged at Frogbot, sure that he was about to lay his neck wide open.
With stunning quickness, Frogbot dodged away from the blow, instead taking a long rake down his side. The flesh parted and oozed a strange yellowish-white substance that smelled vaguely like cheese.
Damage to unit non-structural in nature… activate self repair and electrical stimulation of reclamation enzymes.
“How…” began the duelist but immediately began countering moves from the creature in front of him, claws springing unnaturally from it’s fingertips as it hummed something that sounded… French.
They fought like slashing beasts, the duelist showing up as a splotch of red to Frogbot’s sensors, giving him a slight advantage but not quite that of being totally invisible.
Frogbot connected once, twice, and human blood splashed the ground.
Just then, Frogbot heard someone behind him say, in a deep rumbling voice, “Just what the hell is that, eh?”
Frogbot turned to see an enormous young human, dressed as an allied soldier in a uniform shredded and bloodied, cradling the other unconscious American’s head and trying to wrap a bandage around his wounds.
Frogbot turned back quickly, but the German with the sword had fled.
He walked back towards the huge American and his dying ally.
“Ah, oui Monsieur, I am ze Frogbot! I am here to help you win ze war against Nazi oppression!” he spoke except that “oppression” sounded more like “oh-press-e-OH” to Moose, who just stared at him and blinked slowly.
“Um, yeah, great dere. Can ya help me with this?”, Moose asked.
Frogbot nodded, and as he knelt by Hank and Moose, continued.
“Win ze war for France! Ze greatest country in all ze world! Her hills are verdant, her…” Frogbot trailed off as small flags zipped out of compartments on his shoulders and the French national anthem blared from a tinny sounding speaker in his chest.
Moose let him ramble as they fixed Hank’s bandages, then stood ready to hoist Hank up.
“Hey, you haven’t happened to see another Joe over here have ya? Fella name o’ John Brigh..” Moose started and then stopped in mid-sentence, mouth hanging open.
The third tank had maneuvered around and was in the street by the Tiger Hank had disabled, main gun turning to stop pointed right at them while Frogbot continued to chatter on about France.
Moose rolled his eyes and tensed.
“Oh no, not again…”
PHOOM!
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![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
Getting in the way of my update. 
