Legion World Forums LEGION OUTPOST Bits o' Legionnaire Business OneVision: Dragons

PROLOGUE 1


Once Upon A Time In Legionworld there lived a dragon. It was not a fun, friendly dragon a la Pete. It was a bright, patent leather dragon, roughly the size of a London bus. It was not one whose treasures Bilbo would have dared steal. Because it would have ripped off his head and sha……….

Sorry, almost got a bit carried away there.

She lived in a cave high in the mountains overlooking Legionworldopolis, the largest city in Legionworld. She had a rather voracious appetite, much to the chagrin of the local population who would often find themselves ending up as an entree on her menu. She would think nothing of having two cows between half loaves of bread for a snack.
Her favourite tasty morsel was young virgin males, whom she would eat four at a time, in a Ford Transit – her personal equivalent of Coq-au-van.

She would appear as if from no-where, consume her latest kill and then vanish without trace.

No-one knew how to find her……….

PROLOGUE 2

“…………..”
“Sorry, Sargeant Fernandez, what did you say?”
“ I say we onlee got enough room for two peessed Tequila heads on a Sabado noches. Not room for hundreds of guerrilos that you left for us to deal weeth. We got no food to feed them neither,” complained the sargeant. “And it no good for the local economy – no one to buy newspapers, local gingham table-cloths, and our specialeest camouflaged balaclavas. And the local rowie bar ees complaining already about the downturn in custom.”
“You’ve got a rowie bar there? Real rowies?” asked Numf, getting all excited.
“Hey, we got the best rowies outside of Scotland. We got an Aiberdeen Theme Pub, complete weeth old feeshing nets, a model oil reeg and we eemport Aitkens and Thains rowies daily for freshness. We haff a small problemo a few weeks ago, but that all sorted now,” Sargeant Fernandez explained. “Anyways, we let everyone go. ¡Hasta luego!” With which the line went dead.
Numf-El carefully cradled the receiver.
“To use a suitable Latin American expression ¡CABRÓN!” he exclaimed to nobody in particular. He stamped his feet like an irate toddler.

“Numf-El, I realise that you’re a bit annoyed at the moment, but what the merry hell just happened here?” asked Nightcrawler, who had just bamfed into the ruins of Shameless Hussies.
“Well, that was a phone call from….”
“Not the phone call, this!….” exclaimed Nighty with an expansive gesture taking in the waterlogged ruins of the nightclub.

“Well, it’s a bit difficult to explain…” said Numf.
“Well bloody well try, it’s not too often that we get maniacal dragons attacking innocent revellers, and we’d like an explanation,” said Nighty, standing back, arms crossed in the classic “Well, I’m waiting” pose, tapping his foot. He also knew that the CCTVs were beaming the images to the Control Centre where Lightning Lad was watching it live.

“Well, you could go back and read the Tag Team Thread where my original exploits with Harbi to trace my mum, and my recent tromping through the Panamanian rain forest are recounted…..” said Numf.
“Uh huh,” said Nighty, foot still tapping.
“And then follow the link in the Apology thread to where the even more recent events in this very bar are recounted,” continued Numf.
“Oh yes, the one that was stricken from the records for excessive bad taste in a family website?” asked Nighty, eyes wide, as if awaiting some kind of contradiction.
“Ummm yes, that would be the one. Thanks for linking that one up for me,” Numf almost apologised, sheepishly.
“Yes, but what about everyone who hasn’t the time, nor the inclination, to go searching for them and just wants an update so that they know where the story’s going?” asked Nighty, looking around him as the others gathered around to hear the tale. With more than just a little interest in their eyes, since it would appear that Numf was the sole culprit behind the spoiling of a glorious evening.
“Hey, come on guys don’t crowd me. You know I don’t do too well with an audience. That’s why I never made it in the porn industry I’ll have you know!” said Numf, backing away from what looked like an angry mob late for a damned good lynching. There were one or two sniggers as well.
“Yeah, back up a bit folks, give him some space!” said Sonnie Bloke, ushering people back. “This ain’t a hanging you know.”
“Thanks Bruv, much appreciated.”
“Yet.”
“Gulp……I know, lets have a breather here before this post gets too long.”

This certainly aint a hanging Numf... it's a hoot!

More, more, more....

sooner already too ....yah?

criticism? want it? you got one already.... put line spaces between speeches or its a bit dense to read.... cha cha ... nae bad tho for that...

so where's the rest of this then?

Oh, and maybe someone can clarify but is it ok to post replies/support on threads titled 'onevision'? I'm not three sure what the acceptable procedure is with that... anyone know?

So... more already Ken yeah?

to all

No complaints from me if you want to post replies / support , as long as you don't try to influence the story / give the game away.

x

PROLOGUE 2 - cont'd


“Okay, here’s the abridged version.

“I’m a superhuman clone. Cloned from hundreds of people, most of whom I don’t know yet. But James T. Kirk, Darkseid, Supergirl and Attila the Hun are in the mix. Possibly part John Holmes…”

“Yeah, the dodgy moustache..” sniggered Sonnie.

“ And it also turns out that I’m part Banana Split….”

“Is that how you got the job in the porn industry to start with?” asked Spellbinder, looking most interested.

“I’ll tell you later, in private….Anyway,” said Numf turning back to the rest of the crowd, glad that Spellbinder hadn’t heard Sonnies earlier comment, “if you remember the TV show, the Banana Splits had a rival gang – The Sour Grapes Gang. It would appear that they’re much nastier than we all thought.”

There were sounds of breaths being drawn sharply all around.

[If this were a film there would be some big fat chords right about now, like at the start of Beethovens 5th Symphony. Da da da DAAAAAA. Played on a large church organ. With windows being blown open, candles being blown out, lesbian vampires and all that sort of thing.]

“Yeah, they’re the real reason behind the invasion of Iraq, and they’ve recently murdered the last survivng member of the original Splits. We’ll probably find that they were also behind the assassination of JFK and the Osmonds splitting up.”

There was much swooning and an unusually large amount of gnashing of teeth.

“Exactly, we can at least be thankful for the last one. So, myself, Homecoming Queen and Rody the Super Rat, with the help of internationally acclaimed superstar Wayne Hussey have just defeated the Panamanian branch of the SGG.
“Okay, I’ll change that,” said Numf, staring into the business end of a Martian Ray Gun. “Marvin here and Rody saved the rest of us with the help of Speedy Gonzalez – now drunkenly asleep on the bar top – and Bugs Bunny – now being looked after by Marvins spaceships auto-doctor.”

“That’s better,” said Marvin, holstering his gun. And getting patted on the back from everyone within patting distance. He waddled back to his drink in the corner, less paranoid than he had been for some time.

“Okay, so where did the Zombies and the dragon come from?” asked Varalent.

“Well, I promised the Zombies a drink.”

“And why on earth would you do that?” asked Nightcrawler.

“Buggered if I can remember – I was hung-over at the time. But that’s not relevant at the moment.
“Anyway, their squadron leader, was a young Oriental lassie called Kaant, who managed to trick her way into my confidence. Turns out she’s a complete nutter. She managed to capture HQ and Wayne Hussey…”

“I used to fancy him, you know,” interjected Sonnie to anyone who would listen.

“…and I gave myself up to distract her attention while Rody contacted Speedy, who contacted Bugs who got Marvin who all came and saved us.”

“What’s that got to do with a great bleeding dragon coming and wrecking Shameless Hussies?” asked Abin Quank from his pile of rubble.

“There you’ve got me stumped I must admit. Kaant seemed to vanish into thin air when the Looney Toons cavalry arrived. That’s all I know really..” finished Numf a bit anti-climactically. “We came back here for a few beers after dropping Wayne off for his gig in Buenos Aries and the guerillos off at the local cop-shop (and they have just let them go again).”

PROLOGUE 2 - cont'd cont'd

“So, EDE, Maxx, Cobie and Harbinger are down and out, and we don’t even know what we’re up against,” concluded Nightcrawler. “Oh, and Rody isn’t in too great a shape either.”

“Doctor One is looking after them as we speak,” said Spellbinder, doing a quick check.

“Squeak, squeak, squeak,” said Rody the Super Rat, who was sitting on Invisible Brainiacs hands preening himself after his unfortunate ordeal.

All of the Legionworlders telepathic implants were tuned into certain animal wavelengths, which made it possible to understand certain un-human heroes, Rody included.

“So, let me get this straight,” said Nightcrawler. “Rody, you’re saying that Kaant is a shapechanger, who hid onboard Marvins spacecraft as a hamster, and then turned into that dragon that we all saw. And when you tried to call the alarm she hit you so hard that you came flying through the air and landed somewhere dark and not very pleasant…”

“Yeah,” started Potty Mouth Master, “right up Harbis ar..”

“Okay” interrupted Nightcrawler very quickly, “ I think I know where he went. We do have CCTV here you know.”

“Giving the Coventry City Television gag a miss, then Homecoming Queen was possessed by Space Tart, Cobalt Lad was smacked on the face by Harbi, Invisible Brainiac was caught getting a close-up of the pole-dancing action and Rody was saved by Space Tart, which killed Harbi. Space Tart did something funny with Cobalt Lad and then saved Harbi, and it was about then that we noticed that there was a great big dragon trying to get in without paying the cover charge,” continued Numf, gesticulating round the room at various points where the aforementioned action had taken place. Takes a deep breath to continue. “The zombies got flash-fried, as did Bugs in a moment of cartoon comic genius, and then Iron Rat, Arachne, Maxx, Lucifer Lass and Beagz mounted an offensive action. Maxx got hit by a door, Abin Quank got covered in debris, EDE tripped and hurt himself, but Kaant ran away.”

“So, what have you done to capture her?” asked Nightcrawler.

“Um, nothing much – I had to answer the ‘phone.”

“What? And leave a 95 foot dragon to decimate the population?” exploded Nighty.
“We’re supposed to make this place safe for its people, not release great big freaking dragons on them!” Nighty was by this time jumping up and down in an absolute rage.
“I’m well impressed, Nighty,” said Lardy.

“Huh?” exclaimed Nighty, “What are you talking about?”

“Saying freaking when you so obviously wanted to say fu..”

“Stop it – Numfy’s trying his damnedest to not swear too much in the narrative so that he doesn’t get censored yet again, and he’s allowed to play with everyone else.”

“Well, why don’t you just bleep them out, or make up other words?” asked Lardy, turning to Numf.

Numf turned back sharply to Lardy, and started towards him menacingly. “Why don’t you mind your own sprocking business,” he growled, jabbing his index finger towards Lardy, “and take your raxing head and shove it all the way to the shoulders up your FIRKING CHOCOLATE BOX!”

Lardy had started to back away at the ferocity of the assault from Numf, who he knew to be a rather laid-back member of their team. But Numf had followed, and now on his tip-toes he glared eye-ball to eye-ball at Lardy, mere inches apart. Lardy had taken the first few steps back out of surprise, but was determined not to back off any more. The audience could feel the charge in the air. The tension mounted. And then mounted some more.

“It’s not quite the same, is it Numfy?” said Lardy, slightly confused – Numfy’s stance had been strong and angry, but the words were straight out of a comic book.And not a very good comic book either.

Realising that he’d been wound up by Numf, Lardy gave him a mannly ‘chug’ on the bicep. Obviously a lot stronger than he’d planned, because Numf immediately clutched at his arm in a great deal of pain. Big Jessie that he is.

“It’s not important right now – we’ve got a dragon to catch. Where’s GreybirdBoy?” asked Nightcrawler looking around.

“I believe he said something about going to crap on some statues,” came Abin Quanks voice from beneath the pile of rubble.


----We will now have a brief interlude for Cobalt Lads story – The Price Of Security ------------

If you haven’t read it then it’s not really important – it was just really to fix the story in the timeline, and find out what happened to Numfs broken arm…….

Quality Ken, I love it!

Thanks, I needed a good laugh tonight and this was just the tonic

Numf, I absolutely love it! And thanks for the recap!

And thanks for the plug for my story, *and* fitting into the continuity! Now we can figure out where both our stories fit in with the tag threads too! Nicely done!

And good scenes with Sonnie, Nighty and Lardy ! Your dialogue sucks me in everytime and gets me grinning and then laughing!

H&C, Many thanks for your kind words - it's comments like these that make the stories worth writing.

x

---------- Post Cobies story – The Price Of Security ---------


THE STORY (at last)

Harbinger awoke in the same sterile environment that she had for the past week. White, sanitised, complete with the machine that goes ping. Thankfully it was turned off at the moment.
She hated hospitals. Hated the disinfectant-masking-death smell of the place. Hated the tinned-peach salads that passed for lunch, complete with the lettuce swimming in the syrup. Hated the smart-arsed doctors and nurses who knew sod-all. “Oh, lets try this one then….”
And hated especially the machine that goes ping.
The physical pain may have been taken away but…..

As if knowing that she had just woken up, a strange man entered her private room, with Stoopid Cat in his arms, who was eyeing the man very warily.
Sensing Harbis prescence Stoopid Cat turned and sproinged out of the mans arms and landed on Harbis bed with the same feline grace as a herd of lil Rhinos.

“You fat git – who’s been feeding you Mars Bars while I’ve been stuck in here?” asked Harbi.

Stoopid Cat offered his rear end to Harbi and lifted his tail, which in cat speak is normally quite an honour, and shows a certain amount of trust and friendship. Not in this case. A sharp high pitched squeal could be heard. Seconds later Harbi and the stranger were gagging, and Stoopid was sat giggling underneath the hospital bed.

“I’m owe you for that one you disgusting beast! Just you wait until I get out of here!” moaned Harbi once she was able to breath again, minutes later.

The stranger picked himself up off the floor and introduced himself, offering his hand.

“Hi” he said. “My name is Michael J. Hunt, and I represent the Legionworld Insurance Company. We’ve been having problems with…..Are you alright? You’ve turned a funny colour.”

Harbi could feel a scrabbling inside her lower intestine, as of a rather large rodent trying to claw its way out. She instinctively arched her back and screamed.
MJ Hunt reacted quickly, hitting the Emergency button behind Harbi’s bed, which brought the sound of scuffling soft soled white shoes along linoleumed corridors almost immediately. There was also a faint swishing as of cardigans rubbing frantically against bleached and starched white uniforms.

Three nurses burst into the room, in time to see Mike try unsuccessfully to pin Harbi by the shoulders to the bed.

Through her hospital whites a fist sized beast appeared to be trying to rip its way through her lower abdomen, until……….


……..Harbinger woke up with a jerk (not for the first time), in a cold sweat. That nightmare again - each night she was getting a little bit further into it. But it looked like tomorrow night she would be ripped in half, and everybody knew the urban myth that if you die in your sleep, if you fail to wake up in time, then you only had seven days to live. Absolute bollocks, but still a disturbing thought.

She was cold and clammy, the hospital air conditioning having frozen the sweat to her terror ridden body.

The intercomm screen in front of her lit up, the face of BattleNurse Brannigan appearing bored and dis-interested. “Nightmares again?” she asked, as if she cared.

“How did you guess, Einstein?” replied Harbi, with as much sarcasm as she could muster. The alarm had obviously gone off in the main nurses station when Harbis signals had changed so rapidly.

“Like I give a shit, but you’d better get over them pretty darned quick, ‘cos your insurance runs out tomorrow.” The screen died with a ‘blip’.

“oh bollocks,” Harbi whispered softly to herself as she slipped back into an unconscious sleep. She also had her de-briefing tomorrow – but not the kind of de-briefing that she preferred.

Harbi stood, hands on hips in her bestest Superheroine pose. Well, not quite her bestest, because her jaw hung open and there was a look of total shocked amazement on her face..

She shook her head as if to get her thoughts in order. She took her hands from her hips and leant forward, placing her knuckles on the table and shifting her weight over them. Her head swivelled, taking in the smiling, suit wearing, number crunching assassins around her. Mr Hunt was amongst them, trying his best to look apologetic, but not succeeding very well. There were a round dozen of them. It felt like a jury to Harbi.


“Let me get this straight – you think that Rody and I are in cahoots with Miss Hussy, and are trying to defraud your company of $42,000,000 in adjusted dollars to re-build Shameless Hussy’s bar. And to do this we distracted everyones attention by putting on an ‘act’” Harbi stressed the word distastefully, “while someone pushed a model dragon s head in through the front door and proceeded to wreck the joint. Because there’s no such thing as dragons. Is that it?”

“That’s the gist of it, yes,” said the head number cruncher.

“Unbefuckinglievable,” said Harbi. She paused, shaking her head slowly. “Tell me, have IQs dropped sharply since I got out of bed this morning? I’ve already told you, that one dragon put a whole lotta my friends in hospital and killed loads of zombies. And as for Rody. ….You just leave him the hell alone. Nighty took the surveillance camera film, and did some computer wizardry and calculated the speed of impact. 172 miles an hour. Tell me ‘Ladies and Gentlemen’” she said, scornfully, “ could any of you put a price on how much you would charge to let anyone insert a medium sized rodent into you at 172 miles per hour?”

Apart from someone sounding suspiciously like Mr Hunt offering under their breath to do it for free, the only answer was that of heads being shaked.

“Believe me,” continued Harbi, “ $42,000,000 doesn’t even come close!” And with that Harbi stood up straight and headed towards the door.

“But what about the money?” asked the head honcho bean counter in a loud, almost panicked voice to her back.

“Bill me!”

She made damned sure that she slammed the door behind her.

Mike Hunt the insurance adjustor! HAHAHAHAHAHA

And not a pastiche of our all time fave film really, oh no.... oh, maybe it is(I still have a badge y'know!)....

Too good Numf, biggest orange hugs....

Kx

Is that my badge or Daves?

“But who can decide what they dream – and dream I do…….”

Night after night she awoke.
Cold with sweat.
She didn’t remember the nightmares now, but the dread remained.
Dread gripping her insides with its frozen hand.
Until it had taken over her.
Until she would do anything in her power to be rid of the evil that haunted her every sleeping moment.

It got to the stage that she spent her days shaking, terrified of sleep. She passed through her woken hours like a ghost. Not feeling. Drifting through a fog of unreality.

Sleep was little more than a catnap, inevitably interrupted in the same way.

“Don’t try to fix me – I’m not broken….
Don’t try to fix me – I’m not broken….
Don’t try to fix me……..”

Amy Lees words became her mantra. It wouldn't be so bad, but Numf had played Evanescences album to death, and Harbi hated it. She would rather listen to Darkseids minions playing" I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles" on their home-made instruments.

But it was a mantra inside her head, not spoken aloud, because she realised that it wasn’t true.
That she was broken.
And she knew that everyone around her must see the truth. But she couldn’t give in to the dread – she couldn’t succumb to the fear.

She had survived for 27 years in the realm of the Dark one himself – with as much dignity and respect as was humanly possible, and soooo much more than anyone could ever have guessed. With pride. She was god-damned proud of how she had handled herself in the realm of the eternal darkness of the soul. She had earned the respect of Darkseid himself and the fear and love of his minions.

So why the hell was she crumbling now?

True to form the bill had arrived.
With compound interest charged by the day.

The best laugh that the once beautiful Harbinger had had in ages.
She even had the bill mounted behind glass and fixed firmly to her bedroom wall.

But after the laughter the tears returned.

<said in best Basil Fawlty after a win on the geegees way...> it's MINE.....

Oh yeah, the stories not bad too...

Knock, knock.

“Fuck off.”

“Come on, please open up Harbinger, we need your help,” came the strangely familiar voice from the far side of her closed door. “Anyway, aren’t you supposed to be on this censored language kick in this story?”

“Sorry, forgot. Listen, you woke me up, and I’m never my best when I’ve been rudely awakened from my beauty sleep,” said Harbi, opening the door to Michael J. Hunt and a tall, angular official military person.

The TAOMP and Harbi assessed each other fromhead to toe and back up to eye-to-eye.
“Terribly sorry for inconveniencing you ma’am. We were looking for the “Beautiful” Harbinger.”

Even having just woken up, Harbi’s reflexes didn’t let her down.

Before he could react, the TAOMP was on his ass, back against the oppposite wall, mashed face spraying forth blood, all over his previously immaculate officers uniform.

“You were saying?” asked Harbi, calmly spoken words dripping poison, daring another verbal faux pas.

“It’th an honour to make your aquaintenth, your Imperial Magnifithenth,” came the reply through broken teeth.

“And don’t you forget it. Now, Mike, what’s this all about?” she asked, turning her attention back to the Insurance man.

“First of all, and I say this with the greatest respect, can you do me a favour and not refer to me as Mike?” asked Mike graciously.

“Why would I want to do that…Mike?” asked Harbi, knowing fine well that she would now call him nothing else.

Sensing that he wasn’t going to win this one, he changed the subject.
“Captain Dallas,” he said, indicating the injured soldier pulling himself to his feet, “and I are recruiting for a task force to go out and rescue a village full of people up in the Mountains of El Veefortoosix. We received a distress call yesterday, and we haven’t been able to get contact with them since.”

“Hails of derisive laughter, Mike,” snorted Harbi derisively. She stood on the threshold of her flat, leaning relaxedly against the door frame, arms folded under her magnificent breasts, totally in control of the situation.
“Tell me – why should I help you, minion of an evil emporium who are trying to get me to pay them one shit-load of money, and a soldier who, well I’m sorry, but I can’t remember the last time that I saw a man so painfully in need of a bl…”

“Please, if you’ll give us a moment I’ll explain.,” interjected Mike.
“First of all, you’re a hero, and that’s what you do. Secondly, the LIC are willing to write off your debt, including the past seven weeks of interest, if we are successful...”

“Like they were ever going to see one red cent of it anyway…” said Harbi. If she had worn glasses, right now she would be looking over the top rim at the pair of them.

“…and thirdly, the distress call mentioned black clothed army personnel with an interesting tattoo.” Mike stopped for the inevitable question.

“Oh, go on, what’s the tattoo,” said Harbi, yawning through her hand with obvious lack of interest.

“A red dragon.”

“What, like the picture by Henry Blakes?” asked Harbi.

“See, I told you she’d ask that, didn’t I Captain? That’s 50 quid you’re owe me. Nah, that’s a different film.”

BZZZZ!!! BZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!!!!!!

“Huh, whazzzzuppppp?” asked Mike as he answered his video –phone at 4 am.

“Don’t start, it’s not a beer commercial,” chided Harbi at the other end.

“True.”

“Tell me, you berk*, we’re going there to kick their butts, aren’t we? None of this namby-pamby lefty getting in touch with themselves crap. Yeah?” asked Harbi.

“Absolutely – you have my word.”

“Right then – I’m in.”
With which Harbi put down the receiver.
She turned to the cat on her bed.
“And you, you stoopid little shit – you ain’t comin’ with me.”

“yeah, like I’d want to anyway,” Stoopid Cat beamed into her head by way of their optic nerves. And turned back to licking his own genitals.

“ I wish I could do that,” murmered Harbi under her breath.

“Give me a handful of crunchies and I’ll let you,” purred SC back at her.

Harbi went back to bed and had the best sleep that she could remember.
And dreamed of doing just exactly what SC was doing.


* FYI - according to the Collins Compact English Dictionary - berk or burk n Brit slang a stupid person; fool. [Berkshire Hunt, rhyming slang for c***] (asterisks added by Yours Truly)

" “What, like the picture by Henry Blakes?” asked Harbi."

What picture is this then Ken?

It's a picture of a .....

Well take a guess Harbi, you're s'pposed to be the intelligent one.

Or ask Keith, he's the artist in the family.

Or, watch the aptly named "Red Dragon". Although I'd suggest "Manhunter" is the better version.

(And yeah, it's Blake without the "s".)


Wait a minute - you're winding me up, ain't cha?

In your own time Numf....

Harbi awoke, feeling better than she had in ages, although feeling strangely unfulfilled.

After a 45 minute shower she felt sooo much better.

She combed her hair, leaving the long blond mane to dry naturally, and looked out her very best skin-tight lycra superheroine costume for later on.

Although she hadn’t said as much, the barb by Captain Dallas had stung, and there was only one thing for it.

Pampering.

She hit the beauty parlour at a run.

6 minutes in the tanning booth. All over body massage – rubbed and pummelled to with in an inch of a, well, to within an inch of a perfect massage.

Hair – trimmed & curled to give her suitably heroic BIG!! hair.

Eyebrows tweezered, eyelashes curled and mascara’d.
Eyeliner applied.

Pedicure, manicure, nails painted.

Teeth whitened until they gleamed.

Make-up applied.

Only then did she apply talc to the inside and don her costume.

And finally look every inch the heroine that she is.

Wolf whistles followed Harbi as she walked into the aircraft hanger where Marvins spaceship waited to take them to their destination.

There was what can only be described as a squad of useless looking individuals waiting at the far end of the hangar, and seeing no-one else around that was where she headed.

She was met half way by Captain Dallas who had noticed her approach and gone to meet her. He gave her a similar appraisal as at their first meeting, only this time his eyes never went further than her magnificent lycra hugged breasts. And it was to them that he started to speak.

“Welcome, Magnificent Harbinger, it’s good to have you onboard,” he slimed.

“You’re going to have a bloody long wait, you realise,” said Harbi after a pause of a few seconds.

“Excuse me?”

“If you’re expecting to get some kind of a verbal reply from these,” replied Harbi, grabbing her already monumental breasts and thrusting them together towards Captain Dallas.

The embarrassment seemed to rise from his boots, quickly turning him a beetroot colour. The peels of laughter ringing aroung the accoustically harsh environment only served to heighten his discomfort. The Useless Squad were falling off their seats / hanging on to each other.

“Yeah, if you want any respect, you’ll look me in the eye when you talk to me,” said Harbi in all seriousness, making sure that she spoke loud enough for everyone else to hear. She reached out with one finger and closed Dallas’ wide open mouth, also lifting his eye-level.
“That’s more like it.”
So saying she nudged her way past the still red captain, and walked towards the assembled squad, who understandably were greeting her like she was the second coming. (Nah, too obvious!)

Catwalk models could learn a thing or two.

For some strange reason Captain Dallas waited until she had reached her destination before turning round and following her.

no change there then

Ken, your writing makes me laugh like a drain.

Sometimes.

“Right you ‘orrible lot! Pay attention!” roared Captain Dallas in an attempt at restoring order.
Mike had joined Dallas and Harbi in front of the Useless Squad who were being surveyed as if they were shit on his shoe. There was still a lot of sniggering going on behind hands.

Eventually order restored itself. But it was more out of boredom than obedience.

“First up troops I’d like to introduce you to the people up front. Most of you have met me, I’m Captain Dallas – I am in command of this command.”

And there was much sniggering, and comments of the “…and you think so…” type.

“I will stand for no more of this insubordination!” said Dallas, getting a tad angry.

“Well, sit yer arse down then,” came a voice from the rear.

“Secure that shit sonnie!” said Dallas, even more angrily.

“I’m Numf,” said Numf. “He’s..” he continued, cocking his thumb at his brother, “…Sonnie.”

More sniggers echoed throughout the holding area.

Dallas could be seen to get increasingly flustered, and was severely close to losing the plot completely.

Harbi took over. “Okay, heads up….No seriously, raise your eye level a bit, gents. ….Right, that’s a bit more like it. We’ve got a crack SGG unit holed up in a village half-way up a mountain. The villagers lost radio contact 3 days ago and haven’t been heard from since. We also have a metamorph missing…….”

“A what?” asked Numf. “ A metawho? Listen, all that I want to know is, is this gonna be a stand-up fight, or some kinda bug hunt?”

Clapping, back patting and general agreement came from the rest of the squad.

“Listen Numfy, you great twat! It was you that brought them here in the first place. It’s Kaant we’re going after, and I’m betting from the tattoos that her new squad have got that it’s the best of the best that we’re up against,” explained Harbi.

“Oh shit,” replied Numf, sotto voce.