NationStates Jolt Archive

The beloved nation of Sasqumanja is holding a tournament of war. All nations are welcome to enter, and most select 100 of their finest soldiers to fight for the entertainment of satellite TV viewers on a pay-per-view channel. The tournament will have many events, hand to hand combat, sword-fighting, firearm games, tank battles, and for the finale the survivors will have to battle it out with rusty chainsaws. To the victorious nation will go the prestigous 'Killfest 2004' cup, along with £100 million Sasqumanjan metric pounds. When the first twenty nations have entered, the tournament will begin! Good luck to all, and happy killing.
The nation of Sasqumanja as this years host country will needless to say have its own team, and eagerly awaits the challengers. :twisted:


-Sasqumanjan Minister of the Interior

We submit a team of vicious, cut-throat convicts who have survived the Dregruk Death-Games. These men are totally devoted to ultra-gory deaths, favouring the up-close and personal approach to long range sniping. They are disturbingly adept at stealth killing, but when it comes to sheer brutality, they can't be matched!

The Dregruk Team has been accepted for the tournament. Your team must be 100 strong and will present itself to the Killfest Arena at a pre-arranged date (TBA). All weapons must be handed in before the tournament commences. You may wish to train your team first; my suggestions are too concentrate on what you say are their strengths, the sword fighting event, the nail gun free for all, the flail meele and the Chainsaw finale. Good luck!

Sasqumanjan Killfest organiser (Bob)

The Dregruk Team has been accepted for the tournament. Your team must be 100 strong and will present itself to the Killfest Arena at a pre-arranged date (TBA). All weapons must be handed in before the tournament commences. You may wish to train your team first; my suggestions are too concentrate on what you say are their strengths, the sword fighting event, the nail gun free for all, the flail meele and the Chainsaw finale. Good luck!

Sasqumanjan Killfest organiser (Bob)

The Dregruk Team has been accepted for the tournament. Your team must be 100 strong and will present itself to the Killfest Arena at a pre-arranged date (TBA). All weapons must be handed in before the tournament commences. You may wish to train your team first; my suggestions are too concentrate on what you say are their strengths, the sword fighting event, the nail gun free for all, the flail meele and the Chainsaw finale. Good luck!

Sasqumanjan Killfest organiser (Bob)

The Dregruk Team has been accepted for the tournament. Your team must be 100 strong and will present itself to the Killfest Arena at a pre-arranged date (TBA). All weapons must be handed in before the tournament commences. You may wish to train your team first; my suggestions are too concentrate on what you say are their strengths, the sword fighting event, the nail gun free for all, the flail meele and the Chainsaw finale. Good luck!

Sasqumanjan Killfest organiser (Bob)

The Dregruk Team has been accepted for the tournament. Your team must be 100 strong and will present itself to the Killfest Arena at a pre-arranged date (TBA). All weapons must be handed in before the tournament commences. You may wish to train your team first; my suggestions are to concentrate on what you say are their strengths, the sword fighting event, the nail gun free for all, the flail meele and the Chainsaw finale. Good luck!

Sasqumanjan Killfest organiser (Bob)

A glitch in our communications system, caused by sabotage suspected to be instigated by the terror group the Red Alliance, caused a repetition of our last transmission. We apologise for this, and will make every attempt to catch these lawless criminals.

Sasqumnjan minister of Information

Do you except non-human entries? If so, we would like to send a team....
-Zakrod, Commander of the demonic army of the Vaxintorians.
OOC: Vaxintorians have a limited ability to change shape and size, and heal more effectively than humans. They are physically a bit stronger, and most of them are very violent by nature, but they aren't super-powerful. Are they acceptable?

A tricky decision this. Bearing in mind the natural advantage that your team has over human entries, that cannot be remedied with better training etc. The Sasqumanjan Chancellor, his worship Richard Willikins III, has decided that a squad of eighty Vaxintorians, as opposed to the one hundred for other teams, will compensate for the advantage they have. This is a one time offer, take it or leave it, but hopefully the addition of diverse teams will create interest and raise viewing figures, so I urge you to accept.

Good luck at killfest 2004;

Sasqumanjan Killfest organiser, Bob.

That certainly seems fair. We are glad to accept your offer.
-Commander Zakrod.
OOC: If you had said no, I was going to suggest a team of 50.http://mysmilies.ipbfree.com/s/contrib/icw/007.gif
I'd have accepted virtually anything, just for the fun of it. Vaxintorians aren't particulary afraid of death.
80 should be a decent balance.

A team enrolls from the Republic of SilveryMinnow consisting of 10 FBI agents, 25 ATF agents, and 64 Postal workers all led by Janet Reno.

The Silvery Minnow Team has been accepted, by his excellence Chancellor Richard Willikins III. He comments that postal workers can be particularly vicious - they once mangled his parcel, and he was forced to have them disposed of.
The deadline for team entries is on the 1st March, the day after which the tournament will begin.
Remember there is more than one way to skin a postal worker; and I happen to know that's factually true.

-Sasqumanjan Killfest organiser Bob

The SilveryMinnow Team begins training on each professions specialities. The Postal Workers are exceptionally good all around, being proficient in Random scattered firing of Nail Guns, Hacking, Flailing, and ChainSawing of Packages marked Fragile for Training. While in training they have also repeatedly raised the Price of Stamps for all other Visiting teams.

The FBI and ATF agents are practically savants at the Nailguns. Shooting everything in sight that is "assumed," to be subversives. They have also performed a number of illegal activities that are direct offenses to Civil Liberties, and Humanity.

Janet Reno excels at the Chainsaw, and already owns the required Facemask.

Der Angst would like to send a team composed of:

Fourteen tree- hugging hippies on LSD
Twenty- six unarmed (as in, they have no arms) pacifists
Twelve 'Mothers against war' activists
Fifty- two monks (all older than a hundred years)
Martin Luther King
and
Mahatma Gandhi.

The Republic of Sasqumanja accepts the Der Angst Team with open arms. Although I am not sure how long they will last against the other trained killers freaks and psychopaths including the Sasqumanjan favourite Dave 'the organ doner' Beard, a team full of sitting ducks will do wonders for the ratings however! May i suggest the team have a uniform with targets on their front and back? Please accept a gift of gold as a token of our appreciation for your cannon fodder... I mean team. I hope you enjoy the show.

Sasqumanjan Killfest Organiser Bob

The Republic of Sasqumanja accepts the Der Angst Team with open arms. Although I am not sure how long they will last against the other trained killers freaks and psychopaths including the Sasqumanjan favourite Dave 'the organ doner' Beard, a team full of sitting ducks will do wonders for the ratings however! May i suggest the team have a uniform with targets on their front and back? Please accept a gift of gold as a token of our appreciation for your cannon fodder... I mean team. I hope you enjoy the show.

Sasqumanjan Killfest Organiser Bob

The Republic of Sasqumanja accepts the Der Angst Team with open arms. Although I am not sure how long they will last against the other trained killers freaks and psychopaths including the Sasqumanjan favourite Dave 'the organ doner' Beard, a team full of sitting ducks will do wonders for the ratings however! May i suggest the team have a uniform with targets on their front and back? Please accept a gift of gold as a token of our appreciation for your cannon fodder... I mean team. I hope you enjoy the show.

Sasqumanjan Killfest Organiser Bob

"We are honoured to be accepted in this event, although we wonder why our team is considered to be 'cannonfodder'. Well, we assume you never watched hippie- protests & Mothers against War Riots on the streets of your capital... In any case, the team will arrive soon."

My apologies... I see what you mean. My mother in law is particular vicious with a wooden broom... perhaps you will be the dark horse, as the bookies have but you up as an outside bet. In any case the tournament will begin in four days time. Last chance to enter all you nations out there.

-Sasqumanjan Killfest organiser, Bob

A triumph in team spirit occurred today, when a group of postal workers in training were able to lure a passer-by to come close to the steel bars of the training enclosure area.

The citizen was grabbed and pulled screaming through the 6" space between the bars, and was promptly ripped apart by the Postal Workers.

The increase in spirited behaviour by the team may have been caused by their leader Janet Reno, when she reduced their breaks from an hour and a half to just one hour, and their lunch break from 3 hours to only 2. Forcing the Government employees to work for at least half of their normal 8 hour shift. (6 hours on election days.) The result of the new team policy has caused the Postal Workers to begin crawling around on all fours while rabidly foaming at the mouth.

The ATF and FBI agents believing that their fanaticism was being brought into doubt by the new policy, promptly gathered together every book they could find which they ignited creating a huge bonfire. They then joined a pagan beastial dance around the fire with the postal workers, while Janet Reno stood in the center screaming like a mad woman, holding her chainsaw aloft and running at full RPM.

"We are ready."
-Vorkil, leader of the Vaxintorian team
http://instagiber.net/smiliesdotcom/contrib/icw/019.gif

"Bring it on."

OOC: So, does anybody else want to join?

OOC: Probably not, lets just do this. Getting tired of Primadonnas with writers block.

The SilveryMinnow team takes the field. A Challenge is voiced by Janet Reno. "FIGHT OR DIE!"

OOC: As I recall, the first event was Sabres.

64 slavering Postal Workers dressed in NavyBlue shirts, Short Charcoal Gray Pants, and Black Socks and shoes, wave Sabres over their heads. A quavering inhuman howl issues from the Black Souls of the SilveryMinnow Combat Team.

OOC: Probably not, lets just do this. Getting tired of Primadonnas with writers block.

The SilveryMinnow team takes the field. A Challenge is voiced by Janet Reno. "FIGHT OR DIE!"

OOC: As I recall, the first event was Sabres.

64 slavering Postal Workers dressed in NavyBlue shirts, Short Charcoal Gray Pants, and Black Socks and shoes, wave Sabres over their heads. A quavering inhuman howl issues from the Black Souls of the SilveryMinnow Combat Team.
OOC: All of your team is there, right?
IC:
80 Vaxintorians stride eagerly forward. Each of them is different in appearance, but the average height is over eight feet. Spikes are common, many have armadillo-like plates or scales, and few have fur.
Most are humanoid, but some have different numbers of legs and or arms, and all have a lot of pointed teeth.
About half fight with a sabre in each hand, a quarter are armed fairly normally, and the rest have only their claws, fangs, and (for a few of them) tails....

ATTACK! Screams Janet Reno, KILL THEM ALL!

Undaunted by the size of their opponents due to the Advanced psychosis of the Postal Workers, and the relentless fanaticism of the ATF and FBI agents. The SilveryMinnow team launches itself into the midst of the Vanixatorian combatants.

The Roaring engine of a Chainsaw can be heard as Janet Reno using her legal authority has obtained a writ allowing her to use one due to medical reasons.

OOC: Your turn.

ATTACK! Screams Janet Reno, KILL THEM ALL!

Undaunted by the size of their opponents due to the Advanced psychosis of the Postal Workers, and the relentless fanaticism of the ATF and FBI agents. The SilveryMinnow team launches itself into the midst of the Vanixatorian combatants.

The Roaring engine of a Chainsaw can be heard as Janet Reno using her legal authority has obtained a writ allowing her to use one due to medical reasons.

OOC: Your turn.
Steel crashes against steel as the two forces join in combat. The Vaxintorians wade into battle, swinging sabres in tremendous, sweeping blows and swift, darting stabs... They use claws and teeth almost as frequently and effectively as the swords.

OCC: So, how are we going to work this? These are both pretty tough forces....

LMFAO, a battle that no one knows how to win or lose.

Just banish all the forces to Limbo for incompetence, and send their owners with them.

Christ on a crutch. :roll:

Christ on a Cruth? That won't cut it! We need WMDs and we need them fast! :wink:

Dubya of DubyaShrubland laughs insanely as he targets the arena with his mini-tactical nukes, approved by a fearfully trembling Congress post 9/11.

Phhhh - we'll crush you with our ethics - how's that compasioante fool? :D

Whew, this place needs some air freshener.


Someone remind me to telegraph Limbo later, and see how they like thier guests. Those demons at Limbo really love some fresh raw meat now and then.

Dubya of DubyaShrubland laughs insanely as he targets the arena with his mini-tactical nukes, approved by a fearfully trembling Congress post 9/11.
Thousands upon thousands of Vaxintorian warriors charge across the border of DubyaShrubLand, brandishing swords and blast rifles.

and run headlong into the forcefield erected decades ago for this purpose. All those little boogers are reduced to streams of electrons, which are also transmitted to Limbo with their brethren.


Dubya hopes the demons don't overeat this evening.

I wonder: do profanities count as arguments? I could supply a load of them, but since I'm not sure I'll just give a rational argument to ponder upon: It takes a million years to become diamonds, so let's just burn like coal until the sky is black - now I dare all the nations to explain this to me! If I find only one fallacy then I'm going to invaded all of you with a vengance! :cry:

and run headlong into the forcefield erected decades ago for this purpose. All those little boogers are reduced to streams of electrons, which are also transmitted to Limbo with their brethren.


Dubya hopes the demons don't overeat this evening.
OOC: Wrong. They have scanners that would tell them if they were approaching a forcefield. Besides which, never post another player's damages without consulting them.

I wonder: do profanities count as arguments? I could supply a load of them, but since I'm not sure I'll just give a rational argument to ponder upon: It takes a million years to become diamonds, so let's just burn like coal until the sky is black - now I dare all the nations to explain this to me! If I find only one fallacy then I'm going to invaded all of you with a vengance! :cry:
OOC: How is that relevent to this thread?

OOC: Debylistan and Dubyashrubland, get out and quit spamming the thread. Did you enter? No. Are you welcome? No. Should you even be posting here? No.

lmfao, how the hell can you have a war when there is no engine in the game for a war, a battle, nothing.

I've been looking at all the "combat" taking place on the forums. Is this like little children, saying "let's pretend"?

What is the deal?

lmfao, how the hell can you have a war when there is no engine in the game for a war, a battle, nothing.

I've been looking at all the "combat" taking place on the forums. Is this like little children, saying "let's pretend"?

What is the deal?
OOC: It's all done in writing. Basically, it is indeed use of one's imagination. You might try reading the stickies. If the concept still eludes you, then just don't worry about it... and refrain from bothering those of us who enjoy it.

ATTACK! Screams Janet Reno, KILL THEM ALL!

Undaunted by the size of their opponents due to the Advanced psychosis of the Postal Workers, and the relentless fanaticism of the ATF and FBI agents. The SilveryMinnow team launches itself into the midst of the Vanixatorian combatants.

The Roaring engine of a Chainsaw can be heard as Janet Reno using her legal authority has obtained a writ allowing her to use one due to medical reasons.

OOC: Your turn.
Steel crashes against steel as the two forces join in combat. The Vaxintorians wade into battle, swinging sabres in tremendous, sweeping blows and swift, darting stabs... They use claws and teeth almost as frequently and effectively as the swords.

OCC: So, how are we going to work this? These are both pretty tough forces....

OOC: Just common sense. What chance, no matter how deranged, do squishy soft humans have against multi-armed, armored 8 foot tall toothy aliens. Someone was on to me when they offered Hippie Cannon fodder.
WARNING WINNING THIS BATTLE MEANS VICTOR MUST PROVIDE ENDING TO OTHER COMBATANT FORCES!

OOC: Everyone else, P*ss off! U had your chances to contribute.

Postal Workers swing their weapons, Sabre blades ringing off armored Carapaces. Those that have had appendages torn off, attempt to chew into the bodies of their enemies. Sprays of Alien and Human blood rise like fountains into the Air. Janet Reno in a fit of Bloodlust swings her gory chainsaw in wide scything arcs. Human brains splatter like grey mud, appendages are ripped from torso's. Piteous human screams fill the air. At last Reno is taken down by having her torso ripped apart by alien teeth. Her intestines splashing onto the gorey muck. Her body arches in agony as a mixture of puke and vomit spews from her mouth caused by her convulsive death-throes.

The SilveryMinnow team is no more. :(

OOC: Personal note to all know-it-alls. Despite the agony, and trauma created in a "Real combat situation," war is just a game. There is little difference in the actions of a soldier cutting down an enemy, and squirting your friend or brother with a water gun in a make believe situation. The defining difference is as I posted "DEATH."
This is why wargames are effective tools. NS combat RP's are just a form of wargames. In wargames you do say "lets pretend." (boneheads.)

An unearthly howl, the Vaxintorian victory shout, rose over the bloody battlefield as the warriors raised their crimson-stained weapons high. Most of them were wounded, some severely, and 17 (if this is too little, I can raise it) were dead... but soon, all who still lived would be ready to fight again.

Today the eagerly anticipated first event begins inside the killfest stadium in Sasqumanja city, and already the hype is unbearable. Someone let the Vaxintorian and Silvery Minnow Teams out of their cages, err, enclosures, and already one team is out for the count. Chancellor Willikins is a little displeased, as he has to clean all the blood of the nice clean arena, and the swords and chainsaws have been soiled, but the excitement has sent audience figures rocketing. The victorious Vaxintorian team was set upon by one of the silvery Minnow Team's mum, and the spunky lady took the Vaxintorian body count to 24. The next event, hastily rescheduled since the slaughter of the Silvery Minnow team, is the tank battle. The Dregruk Team, De angst and Sasqumanjan teams are all entered in this round. Somewhere in the arena is a box full of rocket launchers. The tanks roll into action and the crowd roar with pleasure as shots are exchanged...

Teams entered into Killfest 2004:

Dregruk
De angst
Silvery Minnow (all dead- eliminated from competition)
Sasqumanja
Vaxintorians ( 24 dead)

The tank battle proved to be interesting. The six tanks controlled by the pacifists seemed to have problems, probably because they had to control them with their noses and feet, rather than with their arms, however, a few of them developed quite some skill in loading the Bouquets of peace into the guns, although the lack of an actual propelling charge made this maneuver rather useless.

However, the tanks looked quite beautiful, since the pacifists had actually taken the time to colour them in a bright mix of orange and yellow... Even a pink tank could be seen. Flowers were handing everywhere and pacifists were standing on their top, winking at the audience with their feet. It was, as the expression goes, a wonderful day. Even the sky was blue, not a single cloud to see.

The three tanks controlled by the hippies on LSD were far more fun. They hadn`t been taken the time to colour them, so the tanks looked fairly ugly.

Despite the hippies being on LSD, they actually moved!, although in rather strange ways, no order, no clear direction could be seen, it was almost as i the tanks were driven by females.

Which, in two cases, was true.

And suddenly, two shots could be heard, coming from the hippies tanks...

One of them hit one of the 'mothers against war' tanks, however, the damage wasn`t too bad, since said mothers (all of them pregnant) weren´t inside the tanks, but blockading them, showing their War is murder! Save our children! signs.

However, this changed. Being actually endangered, the mothers showed what an actual rage can do and stormed their remaining two tanks.

Mere seconds later, and with a DIE, YOU CHILD- SLAYING BASTARD! cry coming from their two tanks, two shots were fired, destroying one of the hippie tanks. The other one they had aimed at did survive, though, turning unexpectedly.

Inside the tank that had been blown up, a single survivor sat, with wide eyes. "That stuff is great..."

While this thrilling events happened, the tanks used by the monks didn´t do anything at all, the monks either meditating or sleeping... mostly the latter, since it was what they did 25 hours/ day, anyway.

Martin Luther Kind proved to be the hero of the event, though. Standing alone against the enemies superiority, he rised his arms and shouted at the Sasqumanjan force: "I have a dream. I have a dream that the masses, who enjoy us killing each other will realise the perverted illness of this event! I have a dream! I have a dream that you, Sasqumanjan soldiers, will realise that killing is bad! That you slaughter human lives for nothing! I have a dream! I have a dream that all of us will finally realise just how important, how valuable peace is! That we will abandon our weapons and begin to live how we should live! IN PEACE!

JOIN me, BROTHERS IN FAITH! JOIN ME, AND BE FREED!"

Chuckling, someone dark looked at him from outside the area. "You fool... But I will teach them the truth about war once you´re terminated." He chuckled again, and he could hardly wait...

Back in the arena, nobody could see Mahatma Gandhi...

He was well hidden, protecting his precious...

And aimed the rocket launcher at the first tank he saw, not caring which team it was.

You will pay.

Then, he pressed the button, and the rocket headed towards its target while he reloaded...

This shall be my party... Your blood... is all MINE!

An unearthly howl, the Vaxintorian victory shout, rose over the bloody battlefield as the warriors raised their crimson-stained weapons high. Most of them were wounded, some severely, and 17 (if this is too little, I can raise it) were dead... but soon, all who still lived would be ready to fight again.

No complaints here... :wink:

...Mahatma Ghandi's rocket launcher fires into the midst of the Sasqumanjan elite government kill squad, blowing one of their tanks into smithereens. Dave Beard, the feared Sasqumanjan kill squad leader who's farts are as vicious as his wooden leg and hook-where-a-hand-should-be goes made and starts shooting his tank cannon wildly, hitting a dregruk tank, the last hippie who didn't have the good sense to move out of the way, Martin Luther King and a tank with three of his team mates in it.

This was just the motivation the Dregruk and Sasqumanjan teams needed and they plough into each other guns blazing. Jimmy 'the stoat' Mcgrath, a Sasqumanjan fighter known for his bizarre skin diseases and lack of personal hygiene forgets the tanks and unleashes his pet stoat Frank into one of the Dregruk tanks. The stoat bites the gunner on one of his butt cheeks and the shell manages to take out several spectators in the arena viewing area including the Sasqumanjan minister of culture (we didn't need him anyway.)

After the smoke clears away all the tanks are destroyed or imobile and the survivors limp away to their enclosures. The body count is rather high, so instead the organisers counted the survivors:

Dregruk: 45 men left alive

Sasqumanja: 36 men left alive, including Dave Beard, Tommy five bellies and Irene 'steel toe cap' Loony. (Jimmy the Stoat Mcgrath is in seventeen pieces)

Der Angst: 14 , Mahatma Ghandi, 8 'mothers against war' and five still meditating monks.

Vaxintorians: 55 still alive (one of them was eaten by the others in their eagerness to be back in the game)

The next (rescheduled) event is the Battle Royale. This is the final event, and the surviving Vaxintorians and the survivors from this round are all entered. The Battle Royale takes place in a huge arena filled with pits with spikes in, land mines, unexpected flames and all manner of traps and things. Hidden in over 99 crates are weapons ranging from baseball bats and frying pans to machine guns and grenade launchers (O.O.C. use your imagination) In some of the crates are useless items like cabbages and a book entitled 'Controlling the playground - respect through fear' (maybe not so useless this one.) There is a hidden crate somewhere in the Battle Royale arena with a button inside it. There is space for one person to climb inside and seal the crate (it is made of four inch thick titanium) because pressing the button sets off the explosives all the way under the arena floor -the 100th golden crate. Remember, this blows up the entire arena (which is about 2 miles by 2 miles in area) and will probably take out some of the crowd with shrapnel as well.

Sasqumanjan chancellor Willikins, watching on Pay per view many safe miles away from the event chuckles to himself as the viewing figures hit the 60 million mark... and wishes the 150 remaining competitors good luck in the final round.

...Mahatma Ghandi's rocket launcher fires into the midst of the Sasqumanjan elite government kill squad, blowing one of their tanks into smithereens. Dave Beard, the feared Sasqumanjan kill squad leader who's farts are as vicious as his wooden leg and hook-where-a-hand-should-be goes made and starts shooting his tank cannon wildly, hitting a dregruk tank, the last hippie who didn't have the good sense to move out of the way, Martin Luther King and a tank with three of his team mates in it.

This was just the motivation the Dregruk and Sasqumanjan teams needed and they plough into each other guns blazing. Jimmy 'the stoat' Mcgrath, a Sasqumanjan fighter known for his bizarre skin diseases and lack of personal hygiene forgets the tanks and unleashes his pet stoat Frank into one of the Dregruk tanks. The stoat bites the gunner on one of his butt cheeks and the shell manages to take out several spectators in the arena viewing area including the Sasqumanjan minister of culture (we didn't need him anyway.)

After the smoke clears away all the tanks are destroyed or imobile and the survivors limp away to their enclosures. The body count is rather high, so instead the organisers counted the survivors:

Dregruk: 45 men left alive

Sasqumanja: 36 men left alive, including Dave Beard, Tommy five bellies and Irene 'steel toe cap' Loony. (Jimmy the Stoat Mcgrath is in seventeen pieces)

Der Angst: 14 , Mahatma Ghandi, 8 'mothers against war' and five still meditating monks.

Vaxintorians: 55 still alive (one of them was eaten by the others in their eagerness to be back in the game)

The next (rescheduled) event is the Battle Royale. This is the final event, and the surviving Vaxintorians and the survivors from this round are all entered. The Battle Royale takes place in a huge arena filled with pits with spikes in, land mines, unexpected flames and all manner of traps and things. Hidden in over 99 crates are weapons ranging from baseball bats and frying pans to machine guns and grenade launchers (O.O.C. use your imagination) In some of the crates are useless items like cabbages and a book entitled 'Controlling the playground - respect through fear' (maybe not so useless this one.) There is a hidden crate somewhere in the Battle Royale arena with a button inside it. There is space for one person to climb inside and seal the crate (it is made of four inch thick titanium) because pressing the button sets off the explosives all the way under the arena floor -the 100th golden crate. Remember, this blows up the entire arena (which is about 2 miles by 2 miles in area) and will probably take out some of the crowd with shrapnel as well.

Sasqumanjan chancellor Willikins, watching on Pay per view many safe miles away from the event chuckles to himself as the viewing figures hit the 60 million mark... and wishes the 150 remaining competitors good luck in the final round.

...Mahatma Ghandi's rocket launcher fires into the midst of the Sasqumanjan elite government kill squad, blowing one of their tanks into smithereens. Dave Beard, the feared Sasqumanjan kill squad leader who's farts are as vicious as his wooden leg and hook-where-a-hand-should-be goes made and starts shooting his tank cannon wildly, hitting a dregruk tank, the last hippie who didn't have the good sense to move out of the way, Martin Luther King and a tank with three of his team mates in it.

This was just the motivation the Dregruk and Sasqumanjan teams needed and they plough into each other guns blazing. Jimmy 'the stoat' Mcgrath, a Sasqumanjan fighter known for his bizarre skin diseases and lack of personal hygiene forgets the tanks and unleashes his pet stoat Frank into one of the Dregruk tanks. The stoat bites the gunner on one of his butt cheeks and the shell manages to take out several spectators in the arena viewing area including the Sasqumanjan minister of culture (we didn't need him anyway.

After the smoke clears away all the tanks are destroyed or imobile and the survivors limp away to their enclosures. The body count is rather high, so instead the organisers counted the survivors:

Dregruk: 45 men left alive

Sasqumanja: 36 men left alive, including Dave Beard, Tommy five bellies and Irene 'steel toe cap' Loony. (Jimmy the Stoat Mcgrath is in seventeen pieces)

Der Angst: 14 , Mahatma Ghandi, 8 'mothers against war' and five still meditating monks.

Vaxintorians: 55 still alive (one of them was eaten by the others in their eagerness to be back in the game)

The next (rescheduled) event is the Battle Royale. This is the final event, and the surviving Vaxintorians and the survivors from this round are all entered. The Battle Royale takes place in a huge arena filled with pits with spikes in, land mines, unexpected flames and all manner of traps and things. Hidden in over 99 crates are weapons ranging from baseball bats and frying pans to machine guns and grenade launchers (O.O.C. use your imagination) In some of the crates are useless items like cabbages and a book entitled 'Controlling the playground - respect through fear' (maybe not so useless this one.) There is a hidden crate somewhere in the Battle Royale arena with a button inside it. There is space for one person to climb inside and seal the crate (it is made of four inch thick titanium) because pressing the button sets off the explosives all the way under the arena floor -the 100th golden crate. Remember, this blows up the entire arena (which is about 2 miles by 2 miles in area) and will probably take out some of the crowd with shrapnel as well.

Sasqumanjan chancellor Willikins, watching on Pay per view many safe miles away from the event chuckles to himself as the viewing figures hit the 60 million mark... and wishes the 150 remaining competitors good luck in the final round.

...Mahatma Ghandi's rocket launcher fires into the midst of the Sasqumanjan elite government kill squad, blowing one of their tanks into smithereens. Dave Beard, the feared Sasqumanjan kill squad leader who's farts are as vicious as his wooden leg and hook-where-a-hand-should-be goes made and starts shooting his tank cannon wildly, hitting a dregruk tank, the last hippie who didn't have the good sense to move out of the way, Martin Luther King and a tank with three of his team mates in it.

This was just the motivation the Dregruk and Sasqumanjan teams needed and they plough into each other guns blazing. Jimmy 'the stoat' Mcgrath, a Sasqumanjan fighter known for his bizarre skin diseases and lack of personal hygiene forgets the tanks and unleashes his pet stoat Frank into one of the Dregruk tanks. The stoat bites the gunner on one of his butt cheeks and the shell manages to take out several spectators in the arena viewing area including the Sasqumanjan minister of culture (we didn't need him anyway.)

After the smoke clears away all the tanks are destroyed or imobile and the survivors limp away to their enclosures. The body count is rather high, so instead the organisers counted the survivors:

Dregruk: 45 men left alive

Sasqumanja: 36 men left alive, including Dave Beard, Tommy five bellies and Irene 'steel toe cap' Loony. (Jimmy the Stoat Mcgrath is in seventeen pieces)

Der Angst: 14 , Mahatma Ghandi, 8 'mothers against war' and five still meditating monks.

Vaxintorians: 55 still alive (one of them was eaten by the others in their eagerness to be back in the game)

The next (rescheduled) event is the Battle Royale. This is the final event, and the surviving Vaxintorians and the survivors from this round are all entered. The Battle Royale takes place in a huge arena filled with pits with spikes in, land mines, unexpected flames and all manner of traps and things. Hidden in over 99 crates are weapons ranging from baseball bats and frying pans to machine guns and grenade launchers (O.O.C. use your imagination) In some of the crates are useless items like cabbages and a book entitled 'Controlling the playground - respect through fear' (maybe not so useless this one.) There is a hidden crate somewhere in the Battle Royale arena with a button inside it. There is space for one person to climb inside and seal the crate (it is made of four inch thick titanium) because pressing the button sets off the explosives all the way under the arena floor -the 100th golden crate. Remember, this blows up the entire arena (which is about 2 miles by 2 miles in area) and will probably take out some of the crowd with shrapnel as well.

Sasqumanjan chancellor Willikins, watching on Pay per view many safe miles away from the event chuckles to himself as the viewing figures hit the 60 million mark... and wishes the 150 remaining competitors good luck in the final round.

OOC: What weapons do we have to start with?

OOC - In the final round of the tournament all team members are let into the arena unarmed. It is up to you to try to find weapons as soon as possible. The four remaining teams (what's left of them) will be let in at the four corners of the arena. It may be the case that you trigger a trap before you even get your hands on a weapon, or you open up a box to find... a dead hedgehog. Basically it will be a miracle if anyone survives.

The portcullis rose upwards and the Sasqumanjan team headed out cautiously into the arena. There were many obstacles and walls between here and the other three gates, and they knew that the other three teams had been released as well, those Vaxintorians were inhuman monsters. In order to stand a chance they would have to find weapons as soon as possible, they would have to take a risk. "Lets Go!" Screamed Dave Beard, and several of his most loyal followers jogged out into the arena. The first trap was rather obvious, many holes in the floor around a crate. Dave ran and leaped over the area with holes, and razor sharp spikes rose up from the ground, ripping his trousers in several places and leaving a nasty gash on the thigh. he pulled himself up and went over to the crate. Inside the crate were about a dozen pistols and ammunition. He gasped with delight, and threw them over to his team mates. One of them hit the ground and went off, hitting someone in the foot, who shouted abuse at Dave Beard.
"Fortune favours the fearless!" He screamed, and leapt over a wall...
...and down a pipe, which was like a waterslide. He fell down and down, until finally he hit a trampoline, which flung him upwards, and he landed on the surface grunting and sweating. Three Dregruk team members were standing around him, armed with machetes. Dave gulped, but here was another crate...
he opened it. Inside was a packet of chocolate digestives.

The portcullis rose upwards and the Sasqumanjan team headed out cautiously into the arena. There were many obstacles and walls between here and the other three gates, and they knew that the other three teams had been released as well, those Vaxintorians were inhuman monsters. In order to stand a chance they would have to find weapons as soon as possible, they would have to take a risk. "Lets Go!" Screamed Dave Beard, and several of his most loyal followers jogged out into the arena. The first trap was rather obvious, many holes in the floor around a crate. Dave ran and leaped over the area with holes, and razor sharp spikes rose up from the ground, ripping his trousers in several places and leaving a nasty gash on the thigh. he pulled himself up and went over to the crate. Inside the crate were about a dozen pistols and ammunition. He gasped with delight, and threw them over to his team mates. One of them hit the ground and went off, hitting someone in the foot, who shouted abuse at Dave Beard.
"Fortune favours the fearless!" He screamed, and leapt over a wall...
...and down a pipe, which was like a waterslide. He fell down and down, until finally he hit a trampoline, which flung him upwards, and he landed on the surface grunting and sweating. Three Dregruk team members were standing around him, armed with machetes. Dave gulped, but here was another crate...
he opened it. Inside was a packet of chocolate digestives.

OOC - In the final round of the tournament all team members are let into the arena unarmed. It is up to you to try to find weapons as soon as possible. The four remaining teams (what's left of them) will be let in at the four corners of the arena. It may be the case that you trigger a trap before you even get your hands on a weapon, or you open up a box to find... a dead hedgehog. Basically it will be a miracle if anyone survives.
Bwahahahahaha!!!
I'd kind of recommend that everyone else team up against me, at least to a certain extent, since most of my team doesn't need weapons to be dangerous. Some of them don't even use weapons when they have them...
IC: As they advanced into the maze-like arena, the Vaxintorian team split up into groups ranging in size from 2 to 5 warriors each. Most were grinning as they vanished into the chaos; this was definitely their kind of fight.
OOC: I'll post more than this when I have time.
OOC: Which is now.
IC: Two Vaxintorians were moving carefully around a curved wall, when one, who had long arms and legs, pointed ears, and scales, held up his hand. "Watch this." He carefully tossed a rock in front of the, setting off a land mine.
"It should be safe, now." he said, striding forward...
-CLICK-
A sharp metal spike shot out of a concealed hole in the wall, spearing through his head. He collapsed, instantly slain. The other Vaxintorian, who had a crab style claw on his left arm and nimble fingers on his right, pulled the spike out and whistled an odd signal. Three more Vaxintorians arrived a few moments earlier; one was armed with a spiked morningstar, one with a hunting rifle, and one only with his claws... not that they didn't look effective...
--------------------
In a different part of the arena, a group of five Vaxintorians had located a crate. They carefully worked their way to it, frequently having to dodge jets of fire that shot up from the floor. "This must be something useful, as well protected as it is!" They opened the box excitedly... and discovered a large carton of eggs. "What are we supposed to do with these?!" demanded one disgustedly. Another one shrugged. "Throw at the eyes?"
--------------------
A rather arachnoid Vaxintorian with four arms and four legs stepped cautiously into a cloud of smoke... and tumbled into a hidden pit. She managed to catch herself a few feet from the bottom, right above the half-dozen or so vicious spiked that had been planted there. Grinning evilly, she reached down and began breaking the spikes off at the base...
She emerged to find her companion waiting with several knives stuck through his belt and a long skewer in his hand. "I found a box of cooking equipment!" said the creature, who was covered in shaggy, gleaming fur.

Gandhi was in his element. He quickly found a crate, and equipped himself with the AK inside of it.

Now to find some ammunition...

He was still thinking about it when he saw *someone* coming around the corner... something was exactly right, since it most definitely wasn´t human.

It was already all over him, it`s... arms? trying to squash his head, but he quickly stabbed it into it`s eyes, then threw it against the wall... a wall that was, apparently, a trap, judging from the sudden electric charge coming from it.

Well... this worked. Subhuman bitch.

While Gandhi continued his quest, the mothers against war were in trouble.

Yes, they were enraged, and would probably have beaten any force coming after them in normal territory, unfortunately, their rage made them blind for the traps...

One ended with spikes in hzer head, another one dropped down, dead, after receiving an electrical charge that could kill a whale.

Of course, the various forms of death they suffered were quite fascinating, however, conflict with the other teams would most likely have attracted the audience more than this rather... humourous parts of the game.

Within two minutes, only one of the women was still living, and this was mainly due to the fact that her child was mere minutes from being born.

In fact, the audience had the pleasure of watching her, being relived, holding her newly born child in her hands, smiling, laughing.

Beauty in the very eye of death.

However, the battle was going on.

The hippies would have been a valuable force, being full with LSD, they would have been able to evade the traps due to dumb luck, but well...

They were dead.

The monks, however, finally finished meditating.

Being one with the universe, with god, with everything, they achived divine understanding, and finally, finally understood it all.

With secure steps, evading every trap, they found their weapons, and begun fighting.

Fighting for the glory of god. For their future. And they fought, silent, deadly, yet, sometimes, showing mercy...

Tommy five bellies cautiously peered around another corner, three sasqumanjan team members behind him. They had been separated of from the larger group, which had been part of a split in two after a disagreement about what should be done after the dissappearance of Dave Beard. Stupid... stupid... strength in numbers. But too late to think now, now they must act. The next trap was pretty straight forward. Thick metal poles protruded from the arena floor and attached by thick chains were large metal orbs with which swung around wildly, apparently controlled by electronics hidden within the metal poles. The rifles they had managed to find (with the unfortunate side effect that poor old Ricky was now char grilled ashes) would be no use here. They would simply have to run. The walls on either side meant that a dash through the centre was the only way.
"Now!" screamed five bellies.

The Sasqumanjan squad ran through the gauntlet and a returning metal orb about six feet in diameter sent the unlucky man bringing up the rear hurtling into the air, clean over the wall and presumably to an unpleasant end, but Tommy didn't have time to speculate. He ducked under another swinging ball and dived out the end of the gauntlet. One of the other two survivors had busted his ankle and was being supported by good old Harry Thompson. And just in front... there it was. The ring of fire.

Everyone had heard rumours- that in the very centre of the arena was an area with no traps at all, and many crates and a few walls and pillars. Most of the winding walkways filled with deadly devices ended up here, if you survived them. Around the edge of the centre of the arena was a wall of fire - like huge constantly flaming bunsen burners burning blue heat. They had made it. But they weren't the first.

"Get Down!" Screamed Thompson. Something had jumped up and bit Tommy. He leapt behind a large pillar with the other two and looked down. A large nail was stuck in his rotund belly.
"Nail guns. I think it is some Dregruk guys. Lucky it was you - all that blubber has shielded the vital organs." The other team mate was firing a few rifle shots at the Dregruk team to keep them at bay.

"Looks like six or seven of them at least Sir! But not all of them are armed!"

There was an explosion, some distance away, but something landed just by their feet. They looked down. There was no mistaking that. It was Dave Beard's wooden leg.

"No! I'll kill them all!" Screamed five bellies, and grabbing the rifle off of Thompson and charged towards the Dregruk team firing insanely.

The Dregruks returned fire, and another nail hit Tommy in the shoulder, but he kept firing and a luckless Dregruk teamster without a weapon had his head blown into several pieces. The nailgun was more carefully aimed this time...

It would have looked bad for five bellies, but then several Vaxintorians entered the ring of fire from another entrance. One of them was carrying a grenade launcher. He saw the little skirmish going on, and aimed his weapon. The explosion didn't kill anyone, but considering the distance it was fired from, it was too close for comfort. Sasqumanjans and Dregruks alike picked themselves up from the floor and Tommy crawled over to the guy who seemed to be in charge of the Dregruks.
"Alright, I don't like you and you don't like me, but we've got to finish these creatures, or we both don't stand a chance."
The Dregruk captain snarled but nodded, and said
"We will give covering fire. You sneak round the back."

Tommy and the two Sasqumanjans, with their heads bowed, used the fallen pillar were the grenade launcher had fallen as cover, and managed to get behind the reloading Vaxintorian. Guns blazing, they charged into the enemy, but already the red blood of good old Thompson was flowing were a claw and a tooth had gashed his arm. The Vaxintorian had reloaded. He aimed his weapon... dear God. At Tommy! At this close range hill kill all the Vaxintorians as well! Thompson was furthest away from the attack, and crawled away from the carnage, noting that five bellies' head was rolling into the blue flame were its hair caught on fire. He glanced over to the Dregruk team members. Someone was on their case: someone with a flamethrower. The figure was covered in blood, and had a leg missing. It was Dave Beard.

The explosion that took place last week led the organisers of 'Killfest 2004' to suspect that one of the contestants had managed to find the crate with the detonation switch the blew up the Killfest grand finale arena. After much searching through the wreckage and the rubble we managed to find the only survivor - a monk still meditating from within his metal defence against the multiple detonations. All the other contestants - judging from the pieces of them all around the areana - as well as several dozen spectators are all dead. The viewing figures were very pleasing and anyone wishing to buy the video or DVD version with running commentary look at www.killfest2004@immoral.com.

The victorious Nation of Der Angst will be awarded £100,000,000 metric pounds as well as the coverted Killfest trophy. If they want to hang onto it for another year, then they have to win killfest 2005. Well done, to the winning monk (although he does appear to have lost an arm somehow) and to all our deceased competitors.

-Sasqumanjan Chancellor Willikins III

"Ommm... Ommm... No... NO! IT`S FALLING! THE MOUNTAIN IS FALLING ON ME!!!"

~ The voitorious monk, not exactly in a state of mind that allows him to use the money

The Republic of SilveryMinnow has begun searching Prison, Asylum, and Government Employee Files looking for candidates to Cybernetically enhance, or introduce to Hormone and Steroid use. Genetic engineering has not been ruled out.

The team will be trained under top secret classification, and introduced during Killfest 2005.