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Capture The Flag


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I offer to hold your flagpole while you go to the little boy's room .......

Keep the flag for now, this has made my day. ;)

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As time passes, the flag pole becomes limp and withered. The flag starts its falls to the ground. As it floats through gravity, I fly in, just catching the flag before it lands.

Needing a new pole, I swiftly take it to the flag pole and flag shop, Just off the M4.

Whilst I wait, I have several copies made from the original flag. secretly marking them so only I know which is the real one. I then send one off to each of you via the royal mail first class postal services..... You should have received them by now.

Don't ask me how I came by all your addresses, it's a secret.... I shall never tell.

Edited by Blue Star
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While you sit back and track you 'false flags' postal journey via the on-line Royal Mail tracking service you are hit by a power-cut that I have caused.

In your state of triumphant joy you casually slope of to check your fusebox and I sneak in to your humble abode. I switch the real flag for one of the fake ones I intercepted in the post and leave, carefully restoring the power as you fiddle with your fusebox. When the power comes back on your are convinced you have remedied the power-cut your self and no suspicion is aroused.

You go back to your laptop and are puzzled to find one of your 'false flags' is not showing on the postal tracker. Not knowing that the missing 'false flag' is with you right now posing as the real mccoy you sit back and wonder where that 'false flag' has got to.

I also leaving a false trail for you to follow that will lead you back to the M4 if you ever realise you have been duped..

Edited by Junior Chubb
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Having been proactive as usual, i had considered such rumination's before making up these impostor flags.

I had made allowance for any such skulduggery by taking the original flag, well away from your grubby little mitts.

Placing a false flag in my own possession.Ha, Hah :devil:

i had, had a premonition that you would try such an act.

The decoy has worked a treat, as you have absconded with such a decoy....Ha! LOL, OMG!

How do I know?

As I had said, I had marked each copy. You have no idea just how many of these false reproductions I had made as the records are in a sealed vault.

You may well think you have the original.......Ha! That was the idea, after all.

My what a cunning plan.

WTF are you going to do now? You may have it, you may not?????

FFS.....What now????

Skipping about, swinging the true flag........ In my secret location or am I?

The plot thickens..... B)

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Your plot is about as thick as Asdas own brand gravy...

Whilst frantically searching for clues in the dead end that is the 'Psychic Readings' section of the forum you made your biggest mistake yet. While being annoyed that you were tracking my progress with a devilish grin, your post left a fatal clue, under your avatar your location, Wales. How did I miss it previously...

I headed straight for the M4 (again) in my Buggatti Veyron and was soon in Wales. Due to my previous job of running the Tom Jones fan club I had a vast network of female helpers all over Wales. We soon tracked you down and rushed your hideout in Ystradgynlais with 100,000 screaming Tom Jones fans (all on a promise of a night of nookie with TJ for the one who gets me the flag). You are swamped and unable to fight them of, it is like the final battle in Lord of the Rings when the ghosts kick ass!!

You awake the next morning in a green but smoking valley, still slightly concussed, you look up to where your flag once stood proudly only to see it has been replaced by a middle aged womans knickers on a stick, you facepalm yourself in disgust...

Bronwyn Talog got TJ, I got the flag and you got Browyns knickers...

Edited by Junior Chubb
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You numpty!

A fine example of a golem you have shown yourself to be.....

You have left a trail of granny knickers, right back to your hovel in "sowf Lundan".

The pile of cockles and eel pie in the front parlour gave it away as your crypt, as if more evidence was needed.

I didn't even bother to get out of bed for this one.....

Me ol' mates from the dog and duck, remember them?

They give you a call, climbing the apples and pears they soon find you, smashed out, prostrate across you unmade bed.

Your fog horn snore, the only air left fluttering the flag, strewn over your naked body.

Leaving you amidst the detritus of your takeaway life style, unconscious..... Who can say why? The empty Blue Nun bottle may have something to do with it.

One of me pals, loans your Buggatti.

Returning the flag to the rightful flag bearer... Me.

The Buggatti?...... You will find safely back outside your door.

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You numpty!

A fine example of a golem you have shown yourself to be.....

You have left a trail of granny knickers, right back to your hovel in "sowf Lundan".

The pile of cockles and eel pie in the front parlour gave it away as your crypt, as if more evidence was needed.

You attack was quick but also so funny I am having trouble moving due to lack of breath from laughing...

I thought Sowf Lundan was another Welsh village until I read it phonetically, the cockles and Eel pie clues, you're right only a numpty would leave such a trail. I will have to rest and regroup before setting out to capture the flag from such a worthy opponent...

Keep it for now me ol' mucker for when I come I shall bring the fire of a thousand dragons turning those wet valleys into valleys of flag-less steam and death!!

Once the Psychic Reading forum lets me know where you actually are that is...

Edited by Junior Chubb
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  • 2 weeks later...

After leaving things to cool down for a while, using information sent to me from a so called 'friend' I stealthily invade your residence making use of my years of SAS training. It has been so long since the Flag has been attacked your defence is weak and I slip away into the night...

You awake in the morning to find your leg broken, your property ransacked and your pet fish molested!!!Also 'Chubb was here you big fat loser' is spray painted all over your living room walls, yes I have added insult to injury!!!

I have the flag securely stored safely (rippling away in my Avatar) and it is out of your reach for now and all of eternity...

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Dear oh dear oh dear! What a rookie mistake to make: standing in front of the object you are meant to be guarding. 'Years of SAS training'? Don't make me laff(that's 'larf' for you Southern Softies).

*strolls off with flag stashed securely in old kit bag* *alongside troubles* *smiles*

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Dear oh dear oh dear! What a rookie mistake to make: standing in front of the object you are meant to be guarding. 'Years of SAS training'? Don't make me laff(that's 'larf' for you Southern Softies).

*strolls off with flag stashed securely in old kit bag* *alongside troubles* *smiles*

Doh!

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  • 4 months later...

Dear oh dear oh dear! What a rookie mistake to make: standing in front of the object you are meant to be guarding. 'Years of SAS training'? Don't make me laff(that's 'larf' for you Southern Softies).

*strolls off with flag stashed securely in old kit bag* *alongside troubles* *smiles*

"Normally I save this kind of stuff for Helen, I think I'll make an exception in your case."

Suprised, at the sound of an almost forgotten voice, you never feel the blow that takes you out.

Upon awakening, you find yourself hogtied upside down in chains dangling over a pit of lava, the ropes that bind you are connected to a weight and pulley system that bounces you up and down like a yoyo. You can hardly catch a breath, much less think. Oh, and every time you move, it drops lower. I wouldn't wiggle too much if i were you.

Daddy's Home.

Who's next?

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I've suffered worse. You make no mention of the flag. Couldn't find it, huh? Shame, 'cos that's what this game is all about, 'owning the flag' ........ looks like I still do :P:lol:

(And where, exactly, has 'Daddy' been all this time?)

(Yes, we have missed you!)

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While ouija is dangling upside down on her perpetual yo-yo, growing ever closer to the lava, I happen along and spy your knit bag still slung over your shoulder, but now dangling precariously from your arm pit over the lava. Thinking to steal a perfectly good knitting bag for a friend, I pull out my trusty bow and arrow with sharpened steel tips. I use the first arrow to slice through the fabric of the strap of the bag, quickly followed by a second that pins the bag to the frame of the mechanism holding you in place. Gleefully, I snatch the arrow and bag from their spot on the wood frame and disappear with the bag and unknown flag inside.

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You may have thought that you managed to disappear into the night but unfortunately for you your reputation had laid a dangerous path for you to follow...

Being well known as the 'Most likely to steal ketchup from the office' has lead you to be number one on my surveillance teams hit list. They followed you to the secret lair in which you stash your hoard of stolen ketchup and low and behold the flag was also there. While you were out on a ketchup raid (to feed your ever growing addiction) I stealthily entered your lair and stole the flag, at the same time I took the opportunity to empty every ketchup bottle you had amassed over your 20 year crime spree.

I disappeared into the night to enjoy ownership of the flag and celebrated with a nice bottle of salad cream. ;)

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The bottle of salad cream with few drops of secret ingredient from the Borgia cookbook.

So it’s not chocolate on Junior’s... cheeks.

Serve you right for stealing my flag. I think I'll keep it under my bed, right under the last dead body that waits for me to catch some free time to relocate it.

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Taking the flag from me was your biggest mistake for it gave me a problem and no-one else could help, because I knew where to find them I was able to hire the A-Team (cue music)...

After locating Hannibal, who was cunningly disguised as somebody from outside his own ethnicity I was introduced to Face and BA, we then went on to a Psychiatric Hospital to break out Murdoch. Once the team was together I explained my plight of woe and despite not having any money they agreed to help on morale grounds. We then drugged BA's milk and flew to Croatia.

We soon located your den and infiltrated it after a punch up with some z-list thugs, we came face to face with you only to become captured (due to Face flirting with you) and locked up in a barn full of tools and machinery. Whilst captured and during a quick musical interlude we managed to build a flag capturing machine out of the bits and bobs in the barn and escape. We then used this machine to take on your army of machine gun wilding goons and knock them all into a nice and convenient pile of unconscious thugs while being shielded from thousands of rounds of ammunition. While this was happening BA was busy fighting the biggest of the goons in a punch for punch battle of strength.

You tried escaping your bed but instead ended up in it with Face, while the two of you had Eighties TV sex Murdoch snuck into your room and under your bed to retrieve the flag for myself. Once I had the flag and while Hannibal was celebrating the coming together of a plan the military police arrived, the A-Team managed to get in their van and escape leaving me with the flag and you longing for another encounter with the Face Man....

Da da da daa, da da daaaa, da da da da daaaaa, da dada da....

Edited by Junior Chubb
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After hearing "I love it when a plan comes together" for the hundredth time in ten minutes, I unleash the ancient and mystical art of Boot to the Head upon your cranium.

Tis a pity, Fool, that you're taken down so easily.

Flag is mine.

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I deftly sweep kick you into the fire ant hill ,and as you fall ,I liberally douse you with thick molasses. The ants are on you within seconds,and leave nothing but tattered holey clothes,and dry bare bones in their wake.

Flag is mine.....heh heh heh ...

Yes,you did scream and writhe a lot .tut

Edited by Simbi Laveau
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The use of molasses let you down as I followed your sweet scent to the Rim of Hell...

Once there we locked eyes and I felt a tremor of emotion as I realised how long it had been since we conversed on UM. Pushing back those emotions I used the Tiger, Crane and Drunken Master styles to pummel you to within an inch of your life before ripping the flag from your hands. Out of respect I dialled 999 and told the emergency services of your wounds and location before dancing away in a River Dance style with the flag...

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Amatuers, no sense of continuity whatsoever.

If you were to jump into the way back machine and look at the genetic experimentation, immortalities as well as the looney toonalities and you'll realize one thing, you can't kill me.

I say this as I defeat every style you bring to the fight, it's easy when you have a taser with enough juice to jump start the big bang.

Remember that as you lay twitching, being tossed into the pit that spawned you.

Flag is mine.

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Hold this baby for me, will you, while I help that old lady cross the street?

Yes, he fell for the oldest one in the book: exploding diaper.

(No baby was hurt during imagining this scene, the baby was purely fictional and made of straw-filled condoms. Did I say condoms? Silly me, balloons. Family and eco friendly.)

I couldn’t ask bat to hand the flag over to me before he was blasted away, that could make him suspicious, so I had to catch his flag-bearing hand mid-air and rip my flag out of his - still warm! feels like pretzel straight from the oven! ... where was I? Aha, my flag out of his mangled fingers before they cool off and become so stiff you’d have to break them off to get your property back.

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Suddenly swinging through the urban jungle like Tarzan, Junior Chubb swings into play on a telephone line, swiftly grabbing the flag as you adjust your hatopus. Letting out a Tarzan like scream all the animals of the urban jungle (dogs, cats, foxes, rats and hamsters and cockroaches) come rushing to my aid and stop you from giving chase.

Once I triumphantly swing to the top of the nearest taller than average building I neatly fold up the flag and insert it onto my rectum, knowing that no human will ever be brave enough to retrieve it from its new home...

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Hmmm, you could be right. I'll leave this to the Bat or maybe Helen ...... it's not my style to stoop so low.

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Hmmm, you could be right. I'll leave this to the Bat or maybe Helen ...... it's not my style to stoop so low.

One challenger perplexed, who else would dare take the flag now!!

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Brace yourself for an invasion of your very personal space! Bat and Helen may even launch a two-pronged attack ...... have you considered that?

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