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hey handy. Small problem. my entire left hand is real screwed up. as it is; I'm typing single handed. The pain sould pass soon enough. Sorry I can't make the rolls. I want Hockey to fire 10 rounds, and would like Duke to try and take out the rat (on the corpse)

Garage Wallace heads towards the Doorway. "This one's you're idea?" he asks, peeking out, at Alice. "What the hell kinda' crap-chute are you plan'n?" He asked, Both Puzzled, and agrovated.

(Not much time at the moment. I'm just going to post for Wallace.) Garrage "Woah-Woah-Woah.... Hold yer' horses, their David." said Wallace. "When the fuck did ya'll decide to run off with ma' truck?" he asked. "I'td be nice to be in on the planning for this li'tle Escapade." "And for that...

I'm not too pissed. I'm a little agravated bechause as a senior, I'm supposed to solo tomarrow night (for Jazz Band); But I'm incapable of playing bass. (little personal grievance) I refuse to take the pain killers (Valume) given to me. I would wrather cope with the pain, then poison myself...

Garrage - Wallace looks to Jimmy. "Don't worry, Boy. It's best to keep on thinking with you're upper head, if you catch my drift. No reason to go chasen' her." he said, Checking the M-14's magazine. Balcony - (I'm currently incapable of the rolls, due to a shitty browser. I would like...

hey guys. Got into a little bit of a fender-bender with some drunk ass hole. Got T-boned by some old bastard. Broke my left index finger. Bruised ribs, little bit of a bump on the head. I'll try to get around to posting. (Can't do anything other than, damn it)

Cell Block Duke stands ready, watching for any movement. He began to whistle the theme from The A-Team Civie Helo Ortega stands, still shooken. His hands wrapping the M-16 tightly. "What the fuck are these things?" He says aloud. Garrage "Gawd-Damn." Said Wallace. " 'S lookin'...

Stompie Lives Well, I'm back from the big blue, once again. I'll be able to post tomarrow night (hopefully) Life's dossile now, so - I have some wiggle room.

Good ideas, Actually. I assume you lived in So-Cal? We've thought about living near the Base, but that's quite a commute, day to day.

Sound Advice, Welsh. Here's the Skinny. I received my high school diploma December (A semester early). I'm finishing this semester with three periods, electives. Jazz, Symphonic, and Orchestra. (Only reason I'm still in nor-cal, actually.) Ive been working since last may, hoarding cash so...

Sorry Welsh. I've been bugging out constantly. Trying to find an apartment down south. San Diego is a VERY expensive city. All I've found for less than 550/mo. are un-liveable. (Fixer-uppers to the twelth power.) been driving down and back three times in the last week. Good 24 houers in a...

Hey Mr. Handy. Sorry I havent posted. I've neglected to inform you that I may be coming in and out. I've reciently made the decision to move to san diego in the coming months, so - There is alot of preperation, as far as aquiring extra money, paperwork, and other planning. I'm fine, as of now...

Its a safe assumption that the militants would have nightvision. Maybe the cheap stuff; like something off of the Viper line, or old Russian tech. And its also a safe assumption that the USAF boys wouldn't be willing to risk any assets with an attack, or their own supplies to aid an attack. All...

Night attack is a no-go. Our Protagonists don't have access to NVG's. Only flashlights. What better way to give you're position away? Besides, you wouldn't want to get caught in a firefight with nazi-muffins that could outflank you, almost invisibly. Best bet is surprise

Hey Mr. Handy. What can you tell us about the PMS compound?

Wallace "What the hell happened here?" He asked himself, as he quickened his pace towards the T-bone. Wallace Notices cooagulated blood on the muzzle of his pistol from the airfield. "Bastards got too close for confort, I rekon' " thought Wallace. "Best not toutch it" He mumbled to himself...

Souldnt rats be vulnrable to blunt damage? A Stomp would be more effective than a bullet, given their size.

Thats some good stuff, Hell. Thanks for the link.

Wallace Wallace Looks over his shoulder, seeing the Helicopter. He shrugs, slinging the M3 over his shoulder, and withdrawing his .357. He begins his route to the T-Bone. Manuel Ortega "Shit stain!" He said to himself, checking the breach on his M203. He withdraws the empty 40mm Shell...