View Full Version : G.I. Joe After Berlin
11-22-2011, 11:30 PM
I apologize in advance for any misspellings, and/or blatant ignorance of source materials. ENJOY!
The year is 2006, Five years after the Berlin Event.
The Location: Officer's Quarters, Pentagon City, District of Columbia.
Brigadier General Conrad 'The Duke' Hauser awoke in a cold sweat, as he always did, when dreaming of Berlin. He ran a clammy hand over his rugged and aged features, grunting as he took a moment to compose himself. Deep breathes , and a calm mindset, that's what the doctor said. Duke swung his body to the side of his bed, to look at his clock, one foot tapping the floor as he gauged the time and mentally ran through the mission itinerary. Three hours until the Operation started. It had taken a solid year to get through the necessary channels, cut through the red tape. The Op had to be done, Cobra island MUST be investigated. 5 years since Berlin and the almost end of the world at the hands of the most vile threat the world had known. 5 years since the world fought back, and in victory, had lost it's protectors.
Duke frowned, then reached over, plucking his Wayne/Stark prosthetic leg from it's charging port, checked its power levels, and strapped it onto his left thigh. He grit his teeth as he felt the leg power up, what remained of his nerve endings firing up with painful life, making his fists clench into his sweat soaked bed sheets. He looked up at his nightstand looking into the pictures that adorned it, focusing on those memories. With a ping the leg activated, and once more Duke stood, thinking about rolling his toes, and half an eye blink later, the high density, lightweight plastic 'toes' rolled in command. Standing, Duke gave his leg a moment to adjust, then strode towards his foot locker, and uniform, stopping only to glance at a particular photo, one taken at the party when he was awarded his first star. In the photo was himself, seated in a chair surrounded by his friends, Kestrel, The Fairebornes, and Wilkinson.
He paused, smirking at the flitting memory, then readied himself for the mission ahead.
Location: Bunker Delta, deep underground a secure facility deep within the Bronx slums, Somewhere, NY.
Time: One hour before Go/No Go.
Gen. Hauser stalked down the hallway, barely limping as he looked as though he'd just chewed concrete, and asked for seconds. The personnel all clicked to attention as he strode past, even the civilian contractors. All knew his reputation. 'The Duke' had come from blood and fire, survived Berlin, among a very small handful of others, and each was considered among the most dangerous people on the planet. He only stopped when he came upon a tall well built man, in a very expensive suit unsuccessfully trying to covertly flirt with on of his technician aides. Duke narrowed his eyes as he came up straight, and addressed the man. "Excuse me, Mr. Vice President, I wasn't aware you'd been let on site."
Turning to meet the general's gaze was indeed, the Vice President of the inCorporated States; Bruce Wayne. "Oh, there you are, Conrad. I was just mentioning to miss..ahh..your name again, Miss?" The V.P. giving the young aide that smile that could seal a multinational deal, or melt a starlets heart. The girl giggled, bobbing her head, then looking to Duke, who gave a short nod before responding. "Mackenzie, Mr. Vice Pre.."
"Please...It's Bruce, or at least, Mr. Wayne." The V.P. broke in, making the girl giggle more.
Duke, now clearly more than annoyed, cleared his throat, which made the girl sharply turn to the doorway the two had been flirting in, snap her fingers across a keyboard, and open the door. "If you'll follow me, Mr. Vice President, I assume you're here for the Op."
"oh, Conrad, there's an operation scheduled for today?" Wayne mused casually as he followed Duke down the hallway "I wasn't aware..."
Duke waited until the door shut behind him before growling out "Save it, Wayne. Save the act for your Gotham starlets. I'll tell you what I told Luthor, this Op is mine. At least Luthor has enough respect for Kestrel to not sneak in."
Bruce had the grace to at least look surprised. "Sneak in? I'm sure I don.."
"No one reported you until you hit this level. I would have been notified. You can stop acting surprised. I know about Tibet, or did you forget the part of my unit that was fully trained Ninja?"
The Vice President clenched his jaw, and said nothing until they reached the last door to the Ops room. He then put his hand on the door, sideways glancing at Duke as he put in the code to open the door, and internally enjoyed the flash of irritation that crossed the old generals features. "One question, general. The captain. Kestrel. I read his file, I know your past. Can he be trusted with this operation?"
The general turned, and gave the Vice president a very cold, hard stare. "I'm not going to answer that question, Mr. Vice president, But you'll see his actions soon enough will warrant more operations such as this."
And with that the two men entered the room, which then filled with both cheers and salutations.
NEXT... OPERATION ISLAND GETAWAY.
11-22-2011, 11:31 PM
Location: Abandoned Cobra Island in the Gulf.
Time: 15 minutes before Go/ No Go.
The deck of the Lexcorp sentry ship 'Last Call' was eerily silent, only the lapping of waves against the hull made any sound. Only two men stood upon it, a tall man in a backwards baseball cap snapping together what appeared to be an enormous rifle, and an incredibly large man sifting through armor parts, and high explosive weaponry. A ping went off on the taller mans wrist.
"Ok, 15 to go. Cap's doin' a weapon's check, always expects us to have our gear ready by the time he's up, we got ten minutes. You ah...need some help there with that overgrown Kree-O set?" He smirked, screwing an obscenely long barrel on the end of his rifle.
"Nah, Stark's a genius. Also, HATES inefficiency. " The big man pressed a button, and one by one, bits of his equipment star humming to life. "Loves me some powered heavy weaponry."
The tall man grinned and then hefted his rifle, locking it into place on a tripod mounted on the bow of the boat, facing the shoreline. "So, Marcus, first Op with the Sparhawk, hey?" Turning to then regard Lt. Marcus Strong, call sign; Machine Khan as he started the magnetic locks on his suit.
"Yeah, heard this was the unit to be in, man. Best intel around with this crew. And heard those stories about the Cap. Any truth to them, Dare?"
Darren Kingsley, call sign Big Shot, grinned as he peered through his scope, eyeing the shoreline of the isle. "You mean those stories of the Captain barreling through scores of enemies, pistols firing and emerging, movie like, without a scratch? nah man, just stories. Cap's as flesh and blood like you n' me. Just a kind o' mean Death don't wanna face." He looked down as another ping sounded on his wrist. "Showtime, Marcus, put'cher game face on."
"On it." The big man heaved on the last of his armor, or rather, a magnetic locking harness for a small mobile heavy weapons platform. His own design, and one that won him a personal interest by president Stark himself. he locked on his helmet, booting up the Heads Up Display just in time to see a man come up from below decks. Marcus started to raise his hand in salute...
"Drop the hand, Strong. You go, or no go?" Asked a man bedecked in pistols. Revolvers, semi-s, even an automatic or two all strapped to his body, covering him in hand held lethality. And where there wasn't a pistol, a knife here, and small cannisters there, all dulled down to reduce light refraction. An old school, pre-Berlin Event beret sat atop his head, black in color, and a riot shotgun slung across his back.
"Go, Sir. All systems up and running." Marcus replied, wondering just how the man moved with all those pistols.
Captain Jack kestrel nodded, then turned towards the tall man ."Dare, Go or No go?"
The sniper known as Big Shot continued his grin, and then rocked back the lever on the side of his rifle, locking in a bullet the length of a forearm.
"Go, Cap. Nuthin' on shore, no lights, no movement, nuthin' but that weird energy signature."
"Wait, energy signature?" Asked Marcus, locking a cannonade of anti-personnel rockets to his left forearm. "I was informed this op was to get the hard drives...This island has been abandoned since before Berlin."
Captain Kestrel shook his head. "Nobody gives a rats patooty about anything in those computers. Case in point, Marcus, we're here to identify the signature, and make sure there's nothing TO down, up, or sideways load from the hard drives and servers, Copy?"
Marcus nodded, and thought to himself what a waste of information, just before remembering where that information was coming from.
The Ping happened again, this time from Kestrel's arm.
"Sparhawk, are we Go, or No Go."
Kestrel gave the two men in front of him one last look before raising his arm. "Duke, we are Go."
11-22-2011, 11:31 PM
Sparhawk loaded himself onto a small mobile submersible device, resembling a surfboard with air tanks and scuba gear. The Flounder was designed as a stealth insertion device for single man entry into water based hostile enviroments. As he eased himself into the water he looked up as his team. "Ok boys, here's the skinny. I go in, have myself a peek around, drop some mobile LAN generators for Foxy back as base.." He made a kissy sound at his wrist mounted comm device. "So she can get some readings. Marcus, once i've given the all clear, you are clear to launch. Big Shot, you are clear to survey the island and give heads up. You are NOT clear for live fire unless given the command code. Copy?"
Both men looked down from the railing,nodded their assent, then went to their stations. Sparhawk donning his scuba mask, an gliding into the water, looking up at his display as he swam upside down towards shore.
Far inland, a lone figure, cloaked in shadows, peered through covered lens opticulars, watching the boat far off. The figure coughed, hissed and withdrew.
Sparhawk washed up onto shore, keeping the Flounder on top of him, giving him cover and letting it's sensors give him the all clear, before slowly, carefully withdrawing from under it. Moving up the beach, he unslings his shoulder bag, checking to make sure the seal is intact before taking cover behind a cluster of trees, and shimmying from his wet suit, leaving it and the bag undercover as he scouted the area, pulling a well worn, used and cared for Magnum .357 from his side holster. "Duke, this is Sparhawk. Insertion complete, place looks as dead as the reports state. Approval for stage two?"
Back at Mission Control General Hauser, standing with Vice president Wayne, watch and listen to the goings on, while both pour over incoming data fed by satellites. Duke listens to the query, then responds. "Spark, balls in your court, proceed with dilligence and utmost caution. Don't want any staff finding you sneaking onto hotel property."
"Spar...is that Jay's magnum?"
"Yessir, gave it to me this christmas past. Modded it up special too, with vibranium finger grip, no recoil."
Duke sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He'd noticed Dash's beret on his head, as well. The V.P. looked over at Duke. "About how much of his gear is standard issue?"
"None. between Stark, your company, and Lex, the man's a walking field test. And yes, that is one of your top secret personal miniature grapple lines on his hip."
The V.P. covered his frown well before going back to watch the screen.
Sparhawk eased along the treeline, one hand holding the pistol, the other staking out LAN generators into the ground. his attention turning right, left, and then behind him, his sense searching for anyone, or anything out there. Finishing up his perimeter he stands, holstering his pistol, and then hits as button on his wrist comm. "Knuckles up, feet down, Khan, you're up." He then looked up, and after a minute, saw a flash from afar, and then, moments later, the heavy impact as Machine Khan landed in a giant spray of sand and vegetation . "Reporting for duty, sir."
Sparhawk smirked, and opened his mouth, then shut it, looking down at his wrist comm, a small circular section not on his team members that just started to glow. "Khan, company"
NEXT: COMPANY CALLS!
11-22-2011, 11:32 PM
"Sir?" The young tech Wayne had been hitting on looked up from her StarkPad, and frowned.
"Yes, Fox?" Duke turned from the screen towards her, then back as the screen started to fill with static, and the room filling with the sound of fingers moving faster and low murmured commands and questions filled the room.
"Energy signature just spiked. Oh...oh, no, Multiple signals, moving towards...Sir, they're converging on Captain Kestrel. The energy is being broadcast.." She went silent, dipping her head as she connected three pads together and started flashing her fingers between them. "We're being forced out..Sir, we'll have no contact in minutes with his team."
Wayne frowned and turned to Duke. "Nothing is supposed to be on that island, general."
Duke leaned forward, eyes soaking the scene before him. Knuckles pressing into the table in front of him. "Fox, pulse out a message to Lt. Khan via his gear. It's magnetic resonance filter should be able to receive a bounced satellite transmission."
Fox looked up, and nodded, starting to align a satellite for transmission. "Message has to be short, sir, what shall it be?"
The old general looked at her, then the V.P., then down at his left shoe, hearing the slight whir of automated joints. He looked up, his clear blue eyes hardening. "Charlie Mike."
"General!" Wayne pointed at the screen, almost filled with static as they observed shapes coming into view. The screen filled with Sparhawks face as he began shouting a word into the camera."General..did he just say 'rats'?"
Dukes's fists clenched tight, his eyes blazed hatred. "No...not rats..."
"WHAT THE HELL IS A BAT?!" Hollered Khan over the magnetic hum of discharged weaponized Pulsar technology. Looking over his shoulder at his captain taking cover behind his armored body, the metallic 'tink'ing sounds of ammunition en masse plinking off his powered armor.
Sparhawk slammed down his twin Urban Phoenix' .75 caliber pistols against his hip re-loaders, twin revolving automatic clip holsters."Battle Android Troopers! Old Cobra tech!" He peeked around the side of his large teammates armored harness, assessing the situation. Coming out of the jungle to the beach was a horde of robotic looking zombies, all in disarray, all sporting holes, damage and exposed wires. "Must have been dormant until someone stepped on the island. Could be automated, could be manually activated. Either case, Make them scrap!" He aimed and fired, each pistol holding twenty one rounds, forty two fired, and forty two B.A.T.s dropped, and on they lumbered."These things do NOT make the beach, am I CLEAR, Khan?!"
"Yessir, Sparhawk!" The big man raised his big arms, and aimed his even bigger canister cannons, fired the high explosive rounds into various parts of the encroaching horde. "Sir, bounced sat transmission, from HQ, Gen. Hauser has a command, "Charlie Mike. Whats that, old school military code?"
"Charlie Mike, Khan. Continue Mission. Our comms out, can you bounce a message to the Last Call?"
"Sure can, but make it quick and short , if there is someone here directing this, they'll detect it quick!"
Sparhawk quickly reloaded, firing rapidly out from the other side of his teammate. "Message as follows. Big Shot. Let the bodies hit the floor!"
A pause as the message was uploaded, and his canisters reloaded, and fired off. "Message relayed sir, how long until.."
The sound came loud and rapidly, the heads of the robotic forces simply exploding into a fine metallic mist. "Big Shot hates being left off the dance card! Between you two, you men can hold the beach, make sure they don't reach the LAN generators, copy, Khan?!"
Khan was stunned, and looked back towards the sea. "Man's on a boat, a mile out...Headshots?!"
"Sir, yes sir! Not one robo-geek makes it on this beach..but what are you..SIR!"
Khan gaped and then covered the captain as he bolted, right at the jungle line, holstering a pistol, firing with the other one, and pulling out what looked like a hand held claw with a handle. Sparhawk fired until dry, reloaded and fored off the claw, pressing a button with his thumb. The claw exploded into the jungle with a hissing cable, it caught, and then the line jerked, yanking the Captain off his feet, and up into the thick jungle canopy.
"Flesh and blood, MY ASS."
NEXT: OF 'HAWKS AND 'FLIES!
11-23-2011, 05:41 AM
Big Shot pulled away from his rifle, a massive beast of a weapon. Swiss design, meant to be an anti-tank/aircraft sniper rifle, this one has been personally redesigned by half a dozen of the world's top weaponsmiths, most recently personally reworked by none other than Lex Luthor himself, a reward for safely bringing his daughter home from her abduction a few years ago in Mexico state. He needed a break, and looking at the hundred and more casings strewn about the bow, plus the red hot barrel of his rifle, he had to pause. "Whew. Take a lickin', keep on...heeey, wait a minute." Big Shot then leaned in again, taking a closer peek through his scope. "I don't frickin' believe it. Morse code through his helmet light. Marcus, you are all sorts of right in my book." The tall sniper then picked up his comm and switched frequencies to hail the bridge. "Big Shot to Jolly Roger, copy." A moment later his call was returned by the Last Call's captain. "This is ol' Jolly, copy ,Big Shot." The tall sniper peered through his scope once more. "Set up a call to the Duke. Sparhawk has engaged the enemy, and has set a perimeter on the beach. Machine Khan holds the beach with my support. The Captain has initiated mission protocol and penetrated into island interior. Advise."
Sparhawk zipped into the treeline, swinging onto the branch of a huge tree, vines covering the trees that engorged the interior of the jungle. Looking down, he saw an army of B.A.T.s slowly making their way towards the beach. Grimacing, he slid off his beret, stashing it inside his reflective armor plate on his chest, replacing it with a headband to keep the sweat form his eyes. He breathed in deep, then, resetting his feet, fired off his grapple line deeper into the forest, a jumping start carrying him from tree to tree, avoiding the swarm beneath him. His goal was the center of the island, where the Cobra citadel sat in ruin. Years since Berlin, every now and again an odd corporate state worth its salt would simply schedule a bombing run over the island, to disinterest any would be heirs to the throne, and to show off their latest wares, or to simply liquidate old stock. Checking the comm system on his wrist, he kept heading further into the center of the island, staying to the trees to avoid the sensors of the robots under him. He was almost to the first ring of ruined defenses, large broken walls of a giant perimeter system, when his senses warned him, and instead of jumping to the next tree, he toppled forward, landing boots first into the chest of a B.A.T. taking it to the ground, and with a wind up kick, sending its head spiraling off into a group of more. "Very good!" came a harsh, bitter voice from within the trees. "You show skill...a lesser man would have been perforated.." A cackle came from around him, Sparkhawk putting his back to a tree and filling his hands with pistols, a beretta and his magnum. He looked up, and saw an arrow protruding from the tree where he had been about to leap off of. "You are under arrest, on authority of President Anthony Stark, CEO of the United Corporate States. You will drop your weapons and surrender." A cackle met his ears, the mysterious assailant moving through the trees, the underbrush, and using the moving tin soldiers as cover. "HA! Brave words, soldier boy. I have you outnumbered, outgunned, and *I* know the terrain. You, on the other hand are simply going to die. Probably most horrifically, yes. Might just wound you, then let the B.A.T.s trample you on their way to deal with your friends on the beach."
Sparhawk peered around the tree he used for cover, trying to see just where the enemy was. The B.A.T.s hadn't engaged him, probably so run down they can only do one mission parameter at a time, the current most likely being defend the beach, and there's no beach around. "You'll run out of tin toys before my men run out of ammo. Again, I say to you, Surr--!" His words were cut off by a rattle of gunfire to his left, making him dive right behind another tree, then spin around a B.A.T. letting it take the damage. "Is that an AK-47 ? How long have you been ON this island, that thing's prehistoric!"
The mysterious assailant cackled again, then coughed, enough of himself pulling from cover to allow Sparhawk to use his comm device to snag a picture. Blazing gunfire tore the tree around him to bits, chunks flying off, even downing the occasional B.A.T. "NO!! No one sees me, EVER! You'll die here, unmarked, unmourned!" Coughing breaking up the rate of fire. "We'll see about that." reaching behind him, into a pouch, he pulled out a cylindrical battery pack, jacking it to his wrist comm, powering up his device, enough to give him enough power to upload the picture, and send it to HQ.
"General Hauser, sir!" Fox Mackenzie ,young tech aide ran up to him and held up her pad to him. "Emergency upload form Captain Kestrel." Duke nodded, taking the pad from her, then growled thrusting the pad back at her. "Get me Stark online,NOW!"
Bruce Wayne looked up form his position, leaning over a monitor to stand and take the pad form the young tech. "I don't understand, General." he looked back down to a figure, clad in old style grey camouflage BDUs, his head covered in a matching balaclava. "Who is this?"
Duke turned, rage clearly written across his features. "That, Wayne, is identity unknown, Cobra terrorist, code name: FIREFLY."
NEXT: THE BIG BANG REALITY!
11-24-2011, 08:53 AM
Wow... this is getting interesting...
11-27-2011, 11:58 PM
Sparhawk peered around what remained of his cover, the tree torn to bits from the constant rattle of gunfire from his pursuer. All he saw was trees, and shambling B.A.T.s, making moving difficult. Another problem, were the claymore mines strung up between the trees, making him move slowly, while his attacker was free to move seemingly at will. He checked his wrist, and saw he had five minutes remaining of reserve power for his uplink to HQ. He slunk carefully through the swarm of B.A.T.s peering for any sign of his attacker, the robots making too much sound to pinpoint where his foe lay in wait.
"Just so you know, you're not the first to come here." Came the ragged, almost tired voice from anywhere. "Over the past years, they've sent entire teams of your kind to die here. Either my Troopers find them, or they run into one of my traps. Bravo, by the way for not setting any off, YET. Or, if they are extremely skilled, such as yourself, they get to die by my hand."
Sparhawk dodged in between passing Troopers, wedging himself between two trees, looking desperately around for his unseen assailant. "Well, gosh, don't I feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Gonna let you in on something, freakshow, I survived Berlin. I survived whatever whackjob crazy experiments they did to my platoon. You ran here, I've been running YOUR kind down for years. I've got entire scrapbooks filled with Cobra sigils." He looked down to his wrist, frowning, three minutes and counting. "You're just another addition."
There was a sound to his left, a quick snap and hurried release of safety, very close. "That was you? You're number 42? Impossible. You were to be all sanitized by Dr. Gift. Unless..." There was silence, then a bracketing cover of gunfire, his foe moving yet again. "NO MATTER! Your country has no faith in you. Your corporation has no trust in you, your people, no love. WE WON, don't you see? And now, you will die here, then your friends..."
PING! Went his wristcomm, and then down slid his HUD from his headband. "Ah. About time those LAN generators powered up." He popped his emergency powerpack back into his pouch, then scrolled through the messages from HQ. "Ahah. Firefly, is it? Hmm, yeah...I see now, you crawled here to live after Berlin. Your Cobra ties would've gotten you killed on any country you tried plying your wares. Blah blah blah, yadda yadda, Got to bring you in alive, it seems, You got all the info my superiors need...yeah, kicking your ass is gonna be a treat, old man." His HUD then blinked red in several places, mapping out the mines he'd found. "Let's try this dance again, shall we?" Sparhawk then flew from his cover, laying down a barrage of fire form both his pistols in the direction of the last AK burst, curses meeting his last few shots.
"No, I can't leave this island, you don't understand! I WON'T!" The terrorist known as Firefly broke from his cover, almost literally dancing with gunfire, both men spiraling in between B.A.T.s, trees, and jagged rocks, closer and further apart. Sparhawk finally diving behind a group of blasted rock, and Firefly halting an almost complete Trooper to use as mobile cover. Firefly hollers out "I canNOT leave this island. You have no idea of the ramifications, soldier. None! I'm the only thing keeping it HERE! You think I want to be here? With nothing but rundown damaged robots?! And weekly bombing runs overheard?! AND DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE RADIATION!!" Finishing his rant with a magazine draining burst of fire form his weapon.
"Yeah...thought you being this stupid was too easy. Must be the rads and the inherent loneliness. Thrown a wig on one of these things yet?" The remark was met by another prolonged burst of automatic fire, the rubble around him chipping up and flying everywhere. "Stupid?! I'll show you stupid, you insipid monkey! I've got you trapped, pinned down and in a moment, i'm going to blow you to every kind of Hell there is. Any fancy last words, 42?"
Sparhawk peeked around what remained of his rock, checking his HUD and pulling a canister from his bandolier , twisting the top to arm it. "Yeah, a couple, actually. One, the name's Sparhawk. " He then tossed the canister behind him into the trees. "And Two, YO JOE, MOTHER--" The canister then released an electric pulse, keyed directly to claymore mines, the pulse setting them all off, even the ones he turned around in between sessions of waiting between trees. The mines all blew sending screaming bearings everywhere, ripping the arms and legs off of B.A.T.s and ripping into Firefly leaving him a screaming, bloody mess in the jungle. Sparhawk peeked up over the pockmarked boulder, just in time to see a flash of white descend from a tree to land next to the downed terrorist.
"Uncle Tommy, glad you could join the party." Sparhawk mused as he brushed himself off and rose to meet the Last Master of the Arishikage. The white clad man stared curiously at Firefly, who'd gone silent, and was now breathing heavily. His right arm and leg had been blown off his body, right where his body armor had ended at the elbow and knee. He was clad neck to toe in white. An older man, his face lined with wrinkled, and his hair turned pure white from age. He kneeled then, disregarding the other man as his placed his hands in front of Fireflys' face, murmuring something that made the injured saboteur breathe more regularly, then set to binding his grievous wounds. "Very well done, little sparrowhawk. But what would you have done if your precious technology had failed?"
"Well, that's easy. Climbed a tree, blown the mines anyhow, and hoped I didn't kill him. I don't take unnecessary chances, Uncle Tommy, you taught me better than that. Now, i'd stay and chat, but you have to get that garbage bagged and tagged for the Duke, and I have to still figure out why a high profile Cobra felt trapped on this island. Which means going into the main installation." He made to leave, but turned as the white clad figure smiled , now standing next to him with Firefly thrown over a shoulder, and still not a drop of red on his outfit. "Be careful, little sparrowhawk. Whatever is in there made someone I knew to be without fear, to know fear. I will see you on the boat." And with that he slid right into the jungle, in between robots, and vanished. Sparhawk watched him go, then turned to the installation, and making time to collect his grapple, hailed his team to update them and HQ on his progress, and approached the main citadel.
NEXT: OF METAL AND MEN!
12-25-2011, 08:22 PM
Don't stop now man!!!
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