It was just another day at the office. The streetlights were just turning on, and darkness began to creep into the city. The sounds of muted music could be heard from ground level, signaling the weekend reveling of the crowds that would soon pack the causeway. The smells of street vendor carts wafted to my nose, signaling a craving for sausage subs and chili cheese fries, and for pizza, the other white meat. Misarranged cars from '32 Ford Coupes to '67 Chevelles to '74 Plymouth Valiants were strewn about the alley, in hopes for a quick entrance into the action that would soon unfold. There was a buzz in the air, an immeasurable current that flowed about the crowd.

Though I knew it was time for another day's work, today seemed somehow different, more than I could ever imagine. I had my umbrella in hand, and walked slowly through the alleys to the office door. Solid wood the door was, newly stained oak, but the hinges were tainted by oxidized iron, rusty to the core, and in need of some oil; a task for tomorrow. It was my day to open shop, to take in the crowds that would soon arrive. I made haste to hang my coat, and quickly make my way to the bar to prep the bottles for our thirsty clientele. As always happens, the night crew left the beer bottles strewn about, which were the only objects to likely occupy their hands, undoubtedly never in possession of a broom or mop. I quickly gave the floor a quick pass, and picked up the remaining trash. I tossed out yet another magazine advertisement for those miniature swampdonkeys, that grow into life size from capsules in the water; what a sham.

Another of my co-workers arrived, and set about busily to prep the club for the unveiling of a new spinmaster, ready to enchant the droves of dance hungry fans with a mix of trax to keep them groovin' into sunrise. Club management had recently tried to entertain the peeps with a comedian named Hando the Mando, but he made people laugh so hard they threw their backs out of alignment. The clients began to roll slowly in, and unfortunately my co-worker forgot to shut off the security system; the first guest at the door was met by an unfortunate circumstance. I hastily sped for the mop, and asked the next guests to stand aside, as I turned the switch, and began a rather messy cleanup. After deactivating the security system, the dobbers began slowly poured in. They were greeted by Boo, clad in her official MCO checkered dress. Nobody noticed that the shadow lurking near her was charging $20 covers instead of $10. The guests came in many shapes and sizes and colored clothes: clad in their blue collars, or red shirts. They found their way through the establishment with ease, seemingly known to them from the past.

I have to hand it to Weez, the owner, that there was always plenty to do in his club. He rented the place out on Ham's land, but these 2 were partners from the beginning, and it made for a great arrangement. Weez made sure to design the pad chock full of entertainment to keep everybody happy. The first 2 jobbers grabbed some keys, and went off to play some of the club's version of live racquetball. But in this club, the rackets are like weapons, and the balls made of lead and metal. Other guests began to enter, stodgy goats with cigars that setup their ammo stands near the bar, while they ponied up for a drink. Some medic fool with a cup over his mouth forgot to read the signs, as he got too curious and tried the heartiest of dragon brews before warming up at the left of the bar first; another foolish mistake. He would revive soon enough and be back again. Before the DJ arrived, I decided to fulfill my fantasy job, and started to mix some of my own tracks, and lit the lights. My fX were trick, my trax groovin', and the lights were synched to the tune in unison. I went from disco balls, to colored floor lights, to laser show. It was incredible. It would hurt not to take a shot at groovin' to the funky beats I was kickin', and so I strutted on down to the dance floor and shook my booty, 'cause what don't kill me makes me stronger.

Just as I was body movin', I heard a commotion upstairs in the library lounge. My jaws dropped as I forgot to bar the way up there, the secret stronghold and club center of operations. Since my co-worker was trying to get under the dance floor for a private showing, I took a jump up to the room myself. And to what did mine eyes behold, but a blue shirted grunt sittin' pretty at the owner's desk. He had pushed away the secret bookcase, and waited for somebody to see his handiwork. In his haste, he knocked down the family picture, and that's when I got ripped. I whipped out my umbrella, and began to flail away at the surprised soldier. To his dismay, the umbrella packed a quick wallop, and he was ushered out quickly before too much was revealed. I barred the door with a couch, and went to see what damage this buffoon had done. Fearful that the company secrets were revealed, I examined the valuable crystal in its safe haven, and was relieved to see it shining there. Unfortunately, with the dance floor crowded and hoppin', the lasers were not holding, and the crystal, though hidden, remained easy prey. I had to take action immediately.

I rushed down the hall and made my way to see the costume room. It was a Halloween treat, seeing such lovely charades. To scare any thieves from the club's life savings, I donned the Homer Simpson costume and ran back to the dance floor. Much to their shock, they thought that they beheld the real Homer Simpson, and rather than run, began to dance more. DJ SkolNuTz was rockin' the house, changing out tracks while the crazed fans grooved on. He started to taunt me with doughnuts and beer, so I ran off, having scared nobody. It was time to enact revenge on these geeks and freaks, so I decided to add a little spice to the racquetball soup.

I saw a couple of unbeknownst gamers within, so I began to taunt them with sounds and lights, then pepper them with trapdoors and cleverly located reloads. Having carefully sharpened the trap spikes the night before, I knew that the plunge would be a costly one. After watching a few accidents, I knew it safe to let the crystal remain. I dusted off the picture in the bookcase, and made my way back to the dance floor. DJ Skol unveiled the Tres Cucarachas, getting his boy Intim on the scratch and McMang on fX. Well, they weren't going to steal the show, and not even prophet could predict when I got into the center and said, "LOOK AT MY MONKEY!" I saw quite a few dancers that night, anybody from ducks, to z-shaped spoons, to canned pork products and caped bat heroes to sinister super villains and masked alien spawn. If it weren't for a preacher man, I would have surely shown my monkey to all.

When I was finally calm, and things were settled, I began to smell a strange odor. I immediately walked toward the bathroom, thinking it might be 16:20 in the afternoon, but it wasn't. The odor became stronger, and the fog effects thicker, when all of a sudden, I saw some g00f named Joe holding incendiaries and a flame-thrower. All of this for toasted marshmallows, I thought to myself as the alarms rang out. I couldn't help the coughin' in my lung, as the fire began its vengeance on the floor. The sprinklers began to throw out hundreds of gallons of water, with no place for it to go. The freak with the crowbar, and the neatly embroidered "L" on his shirt, laughed as we ran past. Rather than be punished by the soldier sneaking upstairs toward my crystal, I had to save the guests from their demise. There were storms onRUSHing on the horizon, which thankfully were dousing the flames with ease. Somebody thought it might be funny for the famous artist Turret would paint his famous crimson wall mural, but I stopped the painting before it began. I ushered the guests to safety, and watched the crystal be pulled away, all because the candy man can.

Besides his life's saving gone, the club filled with water, and charred wood, all in all, it was a great night. Not too many folks were hurt, and they all had fun. And though another mess would be waiting for me on my next shift, it was worth it knowing that I was at the hottest nightclub in the entire world. The next night might mean new music, or new exotic brews, but the same clients would all be back. It's a good thing the streetlights were slightly dimmed, to hide my smile of satisfaction as I heard the errant sounds stray from the building. At least the electricity was still running, as I heard a continuous track play the hard rockin' beats of HalfordMang, singing, "United We Stand".

I have seen an inordinate amount of buttcrack on the UWS servers lately. In many cases it's horrific, utterly gruesome. I've lost so many frags, or have been unceremoniously EMP'd by having to turn away from a loose-fitted pant or simply a misguided bendover. To counteract these unfortunate circumstances, I'm going to suggest a series of TFC binds to add to your autoexecs or config files; this is a game-breaking, win-or-lose issue, so please listen. This is SO important that it may need to be added to the UWS server MotD.

Make sure you bind "cl_buttcrack 1" to an easily accessible key to disable any form of server plumber butt. Please be sure to press the button often throughout the game to ensure compliance with all local, national and federal buttcrack minimization standards. It's not only aesthetically displeasing, but it can provide an unfortunate methane pathway that would significantly decrease the air quality in the server. Your health is important to us! We are currently in discussions to elect an Officer to maintain full compliance.

If the direct approach doesn't work, there are some variables that serve as a prevention layer or treat the butt symptoms. The most effective alternate is to try "cl_tightenbelt 25". For petite waists, the belt tighten variable should be set to 15. I've seen in the gaming field that the tighten variable can impact both your framerates and general comfort, so please conduct a full test and use with caution. If you find yourself unable to use this, try "cl_boxerheight 50" or "cl_briefheight 35". These are examples of handy underwear height adjustment variables, tested extensively for minimal gaming impact. These have proven not to discomfort the player in any way, nor will it hinder latency and ping. This makes for an effective compromise while still providing a barrier between you and your clothes. Change the value to to make sure your undies are high enough to effectively increase buttcrack prevention. Any server pal can check out your stuff to help ensure compliance.

For equal opportunity with the ladies, try to use "cl_lowrise 0" to disable lowrise panties, which could potentially expose serious butt cleavage. If you truly must wear lowrises for comfort, another option is "cl_pantyheight 30". In order to "cover" all popular undergarment options, especially for caped superheroes, there's "cl_thong 0" or cl_speedo 0", disabling both versions of butt exposure at the source. We also find that "cl_silk 1" provides a stronger fabric than "cl_cotton 1", preventing ripping or tearing and potential exposure; it can be more stimulating to your sensory system.

If for any reason that you cannot make any of the above variables fix the issues, than for everybody's sake, PLEASE set "cl_hairdensity" variable to no higher than 22. Anything more would require you to include "cl_nair 1" simultaneously. It is strongly suggested that you also add "cl_cleanundies 1" and "cl_nastytatoos 0" to your autoexec. You should also be considerate and enable both "cl_bathshower" and "cl_gasx" variables to 1, and we stress the usage of "cl_babypowder" set to at least 27, and to avoid "cl_musk 1". We also ask that you limit excessive intake of beans and other high fiber-containing foods before playing.

Please, do NOT accept imitations, and be very cautious on this unsightly issue! There are some unscrupulous websites that will indeed steer the female TFC players to use the wrong variables to actually PROMOTE buttcrack, thongs and cutey tatooies from them. Whether or not my choice, I am obliged to produce a professional article, maintaining extreme chivalry as a journalistic requirement.

Whatever you wear, male or female, there's a client-side garment variable or workaround to "fit" your needs. If I have not covered an @r$e-cover script to match your undergarment requirements, please e-mail me at tightywhiteys@boxers.com. Please do NOT include pictures.

Please provide positive feedback to nominations@journalismawards.com and recognition@bonus.com. All negative feedback should be directed to shut.your.pie.hole@y0usux0rz.com.

This has been a public service announcement from [UWS]StickMang.

-Mango

Food is more than just nourishing, it's more than just tasty, it's more than just the beginning of a romantic evening, and more than just fodder for a good food fight. Food can also be the ultimate metaphor, and this holds true for UWS and TFC. For one heckuva place to go on a weeknight, weekend or weekday for having fun, meeting friends and fraggin frenzy, come to 216.24.32.57:27015 at the [UWS]Funhouse or to 64.55.196.63:27015 at the [UWS]Bar & Grille. We bet that whether you win or lose game, you'll make good conversation, make good memories and have a great game. The atmosphere is always fun, and friends known and unknown are always welcome! UWS is about friendship and gaming fun, so enjoy your meal.

PYROJOE
There's nothing like the delicious taste of hot BBQd gibs, seared to perfection. And there's nobody better to provide than the fire-wielding Pyro Joe. The man is unrelenting, tireless and down-to-business; this man gets his sh!zn!t done. Be sure to ask for your choice of hot, superhot, blackened and carbonized, and have an ice cold Miller ready to cool down. Opponents beware though, you provide the beef, he provides the crisp. Play with fire, and you're gonna get burned.

STORMBRINGER
Well, bad weather is imminent when StormBringer is afoot. Storm's AC fodder feels like golf-ball sized hail. His MIRV's are like momentous lightning that blind the sky. His grens are like rolling thunders, deafening you while you're sent unceremoniously back to respawn. Immovable, indomitable, invincible, Elrician. He doesn't supervise this restaurant with a gentle hand, he's like a hammer to a T-bone. Knocking him off the bridge is like sending your meal back to the chef...bad news! Look out Neal Peart, the pounding rhythms of the Bringer of Storms helps the entire team keep beat, his communication is key, his play inspiring. Let the lightning strike, the wall of Stormbringer stands tall.

MR. LOSER
Despite his chosen name, this man is a pure winner. He'll clear your table faster than a racing jaguar, and clean your clock to boot. The master of the caltrop kill is also on the restaurant's maintenance staff, carryin his shiny crowbar in case anything or anybody needs a good-fixin. Don't think that you'll be able to stop him from grabbing the flag, and bring it back for a grand cap. He's quiet, he's quick, he's efficient, and you'll never know he got you until you're back in respawn. And remember, that's MISTER to you!

DUCKSHIRE
Don't quack at this steward, or he'll take your order and return with a heaping helping of headshot huevos. And he'll be sure to super size it! The sting of the armor-piercing round, and that "splat" is served with every dish he brings. And if you're rude to him, or mention duck hunting season, he'll dance the duckmang over your fresh carcass. Although the rumor in the restaurant is that he's related to the swampdonkeys, the entire staff won't talk about it; they know better. Master of the grill trap shower, Ducky provides dead Nutz on accuracy as his Dish of the Day. Don't order the duck, unless you want a Quack SPLAT!

HAND OF GOD
We don't use grills at the Bar & Grill, we just set Hand of God up with incendiaries and watch him at his craft. Though he may not be an avatar, he's certainly got game from out of this world. Please be warned though, this man will not be parted from his flamethrower, and he doesn't go down easy. But it's not just his BBQ that will set you ablaze, it's his 1-liners that fuel the inferno! The only standup BBQ specialist that can flame broil, frag and make you laugh all in a millisecond. Don't be joke smitten though, 'cauz while he's making you laugh, he'as also making you pay. Hando is the Mando.

SPAWN
Although part human, and supernatural, this creature is quiet and dangerous. He's quite versatile, filling in any role that the team needs. However, his specialty is to cook you the unusual dishes that often go unordered. His favorite ingredients incluse spanner, dispenser, single-barrel and don't forget his often forgotten creation, the eclectic caltrop cake. He'll sneak up on you as quietly as a mouse, but he dishes out punishment like a lion. Don't you dare think that it's clear around the corner when SPAWN is stalking. It spawned, it came, it fragged, it conquered.

INTIMIDATOR
What's in a name? EVERYTHING! There's nobody quicker and more skilled at acquiring the flag, and bringing it back home than the DMang. Of great importance to this Bar & Grille admin is his offensive leadership, directing willing listeners on an offensive sortie that always leads to a successful mission. Don't think that your AC will slow him down, he'll serve you up a Conc-on-the-Cob followed quickly by Grenade Grog and Buckshot Bread, and you're back to respawn before you can say chics. He knows 5 other guys that are sick and his favorite gum is chiclets. Remember, Intimidation is a means to your end.

CANNEDHAM
The Head Chef, Funhouse admin and UWS Founder is the most adept baker this side of the candlestickmaker. He has proven to be a great SponsorMang, bringing new chefs into the business. He calls defensive plays with his deep radio voice, which is much clearer on RW. His pork recipes are always dry and overcooked, but if it's Ham you hanker, the Canned One can oblige. I've never tasted a more delicious EMPpie than baked by Hammy, nor heard more creative lyrics than a Hammy Tune. He'll vary his recipe from time to time, depending on to whom he's serving, but he always goes back to that metallic vibration that r0x0rz your meal with the EMP show. So, if the hot, freshly baked, EMPlicious EMPpie isn't your demise, watch out for his cousins, Dubba B. Arrel and Sent R. Egun. Your goose is sure to get cooked if you get to close to HamDawg, Rrrrrrrrrrroger Dodger. Don't cut yourself on the can, cause the Ham wants first blood!

ZERO
Zero is Head of Restaurant QA and another UWS Founder. He's a tricky chap, sly and slick, and good in every area of the restaurant, yet fabulous at stealth. You may walk right past him, but don't make the mistake of not knowing he's there. Because if you walk past, you can be sure to get a citation back to respawn, with love from Zero. He's mastered the recipe of Conc Fritters, and has every kitchen knife sharpened, balanced amd ballz on calibrated to his high standards. He's also been known to provide website Flash and graphics. His ability to communicate to the entire team is incredible, and his comm scripts are great. He's known to walk tall and carry a long spoon. You just got divided by Zero.

420:
It's late afternoon, and it's time for...dinner. He's the whacked out network admin freak for the UWS restaurant servers. All that data gets stored somewhere, and 420 guards it like a hawk, and he watches and dispenses with out-of-line customers the same way. Cross him wrong, and you're gonna pay, and if you don't watch out, you'll get smoked! This guy means business. He's lived in the mean streets, and brings that grit to the UWS restaurant. So unless you wanna taste test some concrete, stay away from 420. Check your watch, cauz 4:20 is the time to say goodbye.

SHADOW
Shadow is a UWS Founder, a Funhouse admin and graphics master. He's made custom art for major software, and is the mastermind behind some pissa decals and logos. He maintains the UWS website at http://uws.itgo.com and his game reviews point UWS to gaming mods to play. His weakpoint is a standing SG. Give him a minute, and he'll sniff one out like a 3AM snack. He calls plays on the offense, and strategizes tactics, seeing the openings and weakpoints. He fires rockets like a kid with candy, but with dead nutz on accuracy. His pair up missions with Prophet are legendary. Just when you think your SG is up, the silent shadow walker sneaks out to open a path. He stalks the shadows with amazing stealth, but his blasts are ground shaking. Who knows what lurks in the darkness of TFC?

WEEZEL
Weez is the Facilities Engineer, Funhouse admin and a UWS Founder. He's the Mod Master, and mapper extraordinaire. If you don't remember Prodigy in your sleep, you haven't clubbed enough. His den is loaded with self-created custom maps, sounds and crosshairs. The black, starry skies and sniper civs are super, but the alien skins and disco are masterful. Give him 10 seconds in TFC, and he's got an SG ready to provide a bounty of bullets, and he runs the defense like a pro-bowl quarterback. Somebody might say, 'you killed Weezy' once, but don't count on it again for a long while. You won't get Lynyrd's 3 steps toward the door Mister, cauz after Weez is done, you won't be there no more.

BOOSKIE
Boo is the resident female, and clan Mother. Boo brings common sense and sensibility to the chaos of this business. But don't be fooled by such sensitivity, she's a rabid tiger! She greets the oncoming patrons with a smile, then serves them a rack of redhot Rocket ribs, with a generous portion of nails on the side. She's adorned some of the most illustrious restaurant magazine covers in the business, most recently the UWS MCO cover. She does have some inside connections to the restaurant Foundership, but doesn't need it, she packs a major league fastball, and uses it to brush you away from the plate. She may read sci-fi, but your trip to respawn will be reality.

PROPHET
Watch your mouth around Prophet, or it'll be washed out with soap, only to be bloodied and swollen. There's few better at the SG search and destroy than Prohet; he takes it as serious as telling the future. And the future with Prophet is always bright. If you talk smack, be ready to back it up, cauz the Prophet can see doom as well as nirvana, and if he takes fate in his hands, you're gonna met doom. The Prophet sees that your history will be doomed to repeat itself to respawn.

PUNISHER
I've never seen a more dominant Soldier in the restaurant than Punisher. If you don't taste his kickboxin foot, you'll get to taste a few of his habanero ranchero rockets, and I guarantee, they won't sit well on your stomach. He has eyes all over his head, and his rockets have a life of their own. Offense or defense, the Candy Man can. Punisher drinks his MIRV's on the rocks, but serves 'em neat to you. If you think armor will save you from the Punisher, think again. Bring the entire team, and watch him mow you down. Take your medicine, and accept the consequences, cauz no matter what, you'll be punished.

SKOLNIK
Swammy is his name, and TFC is his game. He's on the construction crew, and a server admin, but demolitions is his specialty. He's the det pack king, so watch out Elvis, the true king is ready to blow you away. DJ Skolnutz scratches out the hits, but [UWS]SKolnIK dishes out the spankings. So deftly does he hide those pipes, so handily does he create holes where none existed, so easily does he jump through the sky on Pipe Airways. He won't deal you no swerves, he'll just dish out the MIRVs, and plentifully. Whether or not you like the taste of C4 pancakes, he'll turn you into fried bacon in an instant. Just a pinch between your cheek and gums, and this Skol's gonna burn ya.

SNUFFSTER
Snuffster is a huge cog in UWS machine. He appears quiet and unassuming, but it's always the quiet guy that makes the most noise. He's named after an imaginary character, but make no mistakes, this man's TFC handiwork is the real deal. The rockets are real, the shotgun is real. Don't steal the man's beer nuts, or he's gonna thrash you with his trunk. Whether you know him as Snuffy, Snuffster or Dobber, you'll be sure to get to know him; you'll see his face just before you see the walls of respawn. Dobberiffic!

DRAGONBREW
His PC may be fried, but this scaled creature will make you toast. You've heard of red dragons, and green, but beer dragons? This man is the ultimate amalgamation, fire-breathing and sudsy, hot and cold. He's the TFC McDLT with ammo packs. Get him in the map, and there's no joking, DB will make you pay to play. He's the biggest Fileplanet fan, and a DOS junkie by day, and a pizza delivery boy and Lan Party fraggin maniac by night. There's no stopping the unstoppable.

BATMAN
He's a SuperHero, but more importantly, the clan methane admin. Descended from swampdonkeys, he became the most powerful superhero, and protects UWS like no other and with such enrelenting valor. In between the bean burittos, and all that gas, Batty is an iron wall for the restaurant. He can go on the offensive, or stick back to play defense, he can cook, serve or mop up the messes; most of which are a result of his handiwork. He never forgets to call out to UWS the comings and goings of his foe, and makes everybody work better. His infection sangwiches and rocket ribeye are amongst the best in the biz. Holy thongs Batman, you fragged him again! KAZOWIE!

CARNAGE
The rootin tootin, AC wielder is the UWS SuperVillain. Formerly arch rival of superheroes everywhere, Carnage became part of the UWS restaurant, and continues his reign of tyranical supremacy. His cannon cakes are world famous, and his Lead a'la MIRV is TFC renowned. His villainous laughter can be heard after every frag, making Victor Price sound like Mickey Mouse. Darth Maul has nothing on Carnage, so be very afraid and let the carnage begin.

PREACHERMAN
What do you get when you mix piety and righteousness with gameplay? You get [UWS]Preacherman and his famous prayer list. His sermons are simple, yet his game message endures: get by me and you'll have earned it! Preachy walks tall and carries a loaded cannon. Preachy says some prayers for the patrons, cause they just might need it. He infuses the food with positive attitude and common sense, and few can call the incoming better. He brings calm amidst the chaos, and pure friendship. Say a prayer, cauz Preacherman's got the book on you.

VENGEANCE
What can be said about the Bar & Grille without its Admin, Owner amd Proprietor, Vengeance. He's both B&G administrator and bartender. He serves up the flaming gun shots, and ends it with a dispenser chaser. If you don't leave him a tip, you can guarantee revenge, cauz he runs the show with a vengeance. If you're illin for a beating, then Vengeance has the 'kure'. He too knows 5 sick guys, and is a Flash animator himself. He may know deep dish pizza, and he may know sausage subs, but he definitely knows TFC. Pay Vengeance now, or pay later.

15. Stick's class selection.
He actually played Engineer; miracles do happen! I think it was just my everlasting need to slip a well placed EMP
Hammy's way for retribution on the 1000 so given to me by Pork. Can you say EMPEnvy?

14. PreacherMan's connections
One of the newest UWS members can sure come up with a minister very quickly for his wedding! Too bad he couldn't
c@$h in on a better beerrun_r connection. At least he's learning the Wango Mango in time to replace the Chicken
Dance at the wedding.

13. Snuffy's long...
...fragging spree with the AC in 2Fort. You didn't think I was going to say...snout...did you?

12: UWS Diet Plan commemorative portrait.
This contained the most intricately and carefully erected pyramid this side of Egypt, which was later so innocently and
mistakedly (and OH SO cleverly) toppled by a StickEMP. Ain't I a stinker? MUUUAAAHAAAAHAAAAHAAAAA!
Ok, so that wasn't at practice, but I'm still enjoying that one!

11: No need for a new utility belt.
The d3@d nutZ 0n @ccuR@cy of 1 Batty with that dang rocket. BLAH! Though, on second thought, I think he's more
accomplished with the methane gren.

10. SPAWN's weapon selection.
In his first practice since the completion of the diet plan, and full membership, SPAWN proved himself accomplished
at the lesser-used, but equally devastating weaponry. His successful use of stealth, in combination with dispensers,
rail guns, single barrel, spanners and crowbars, proved that there are places where no such items should ever be used!

09. Hando's 1-liners.
What more need be said! Hand of God's voice comms are nothing short of genius. And as always, they were as well
placed and delivered as a Lenny Clark comedy show. Luckily my bladder was empty during the game.

08. Did I mention the UWS commemorative EMPortrait?
BAAAAHAAAAHAAAAHAAAAHAAAAHAAA! :evil :lol :) :eek

07. Intimidator's bloodhound skill.
Intimidator sniffed out each and every SG that I could imagine a place for, sneaking as quietly as SPAWN, using the nail
gun with more precision than Bob Vila on renovation weekend. Next time I'll ask Batty to let out a few cracklers to
use methane to put Intimidator off his trail.

06. Hammy's professional guided tour through beerun_r.
SponsorMang provided his tour complete with tactical breakdown and entertainment. He displayed his circus exhibits
with Shad00d's arrow ride of d00m and Intimidator's sacrificial balista. Of course, his tour wouldn't be complete withouth
Skol's special anime poster art showing with multimedia "beer" music exhibit.

05. Trying out a new map for a test spin.
Playing in tempest_r2 reminded me of a good game of mulch_trench, complete with tasting Hammy's EMPpies, Hando's
CannonCakes, SPAWN's KnifeFritters and Jumpernator's MunchyMedikits.

04. The world premiere of Tres Cucarachas.
The post-practice unveiling of the latest musical genius of DJ SkolNutz, mixing in tunes and voiceover as good as
Scatman and Oakenfold. Skol also brought out his new music kr3w of Intim on the scratch and Stick on the FX trax.
I'm not sure what new dance the Tres Cucarachas created, but it was certainly interesting...almost like 3 guys who
mistook the cayenne pepper for foot powder.

03. Beerun_r, scenario #3.
StickMang bearing the last beerrun_r keg in for tapping in Blue respawn, racing toward the finish in fine fashion..well,
if it weren't for Shadow and SG (see #2).

02. Beerrun_r, Scenario #2.
Shadow's sneaky SG near our bridge, shredding 'ol Sticky like a paper puppet, as he falls, and the Lurker grabs the keg
thirstily for a rebound save and races back to Team Red...well, if it weren't for Hammy (see #1).

01. Beerun_r, Scenario #1.
Hammy's gift of shrapnel to Shad00d, downing him from a well placed grenny. Ham then confidently grabbed the keg
and crossed the bridge toward respawn and safety and.........LOADING, lol! Time up!

Great fun this practice, and as always, UNITED WE STAND!

-Mango