Years ago.
It was another slow night.
Ever since he was thrown into this assignment he had known that things would be a bit less than glamorous, but that was okay by him. He could be sure of himself now, sure that he was doing something good for once, and sure he was doing the right thing. It had certainly beaten the tense moments and lingering feelings that things were more than met the eye.
Ever since he had been put on Operation: Rustys Blanket things had slowed down. For once, he didnt really mind. It was supposed to be a garbage assignment and probably assigned by someone who hated him, but what the hell, he had the last
Hank would remember the day started out like so many others, after all. Birds chirping, bees buzzing, the sun high and shining and warming up the beautiful late summer day like it did so many others and that most of all it was-
-BORING! he yelled out loud in such an incredulous tone. Only his brother Dean was around to hear him, and per usual like so many days-as Hank remembered-he looked up from his well-read Jr. Boy Detective book (Jr. Boy Detective and the Case of the Mysterious Teachers Lounge), rolled his eyes, and sighed before burying his nose in the tome again.
Hank just stared back to his brother. Uh, Dean?
Broooooock!
Eh? Brock turned around and looked over the couch. Dean was standing there, hands on hips, his face scrunched up into one of clear annoyance. What do you want, Dean?
Well . Dean looked nervous for a second, hunching over slightly as his natural timidity took over for a moment. He then had another look of determination and quickly stood back up. Well, Id like to spend some time. With with you!
What? Samson merely raised an eyebrow.
Sure! Youre always helping POP with whatever. He raised one hand up and raised his voice slig
Samson? SAMSON!
Ah-eh?
Brock Samson, secret agent, OSI, all-around terror to anyone fated enough to have to face off against him, shot up to attention, mere seconds before face in palm, elbow against the table, more bored than anything else and trying to think of something exciting to keep from falling asleep. It had been slow lately. He didnt like slow.
Thankfully, Hunter calling to him meant something was up.
Get your gear ready. Couple days, were going to Reykjavik.
What for?
Peace summit between us and the commies. Naturally, that means some killings gonna be go
NOVEMBER 9TH, 1989
Mere seconds earlier on the TV he heard the eastern propaganda minister make the sudden announcement of entry into the western part of town he realized something well, something big would probably be happening. Moments later he was already out the door of the cheap apartment he had been crammed into by the government for the last several weeks, grabbing his coat, slinging it over his shoulder-hed put it on on the way, no time to waste. What he just heard well, even he knew that was going to be a statement with consequences and very suddenly he needed to see someone--fast.
Brock Samson had been stationed in
SOUTH PARK:Cartman vs. the FBI by UmbricMan, literature
Literature
SOUTH PARK:Cartman vs. the FBI
(FADE IN: We fade into a a darkened room with two FBI agents. One sits in front of the desk, the other stands close by. The sitting one puts down a phone he had been talking into to look up at the standing agent.)
AGENT 1: You found him?
AGENT 2: Yup.
AGENT 1: Now we can finally find the one who knows aliens exist.... now we can finally find ERIC CARTMAN!
(Quick Cut-QC-to our typical bus scene. The quartet, as usual, is standing there waiting for the bus.)
CARTMAN: I'm telling you, we need to tie Kenny to a tree during a storm!
(The other three get visibly annoyed. Kenny lets out a muffled "HEY!")
KYLE: Yeah fatass. That's as brilliant
VB: Who Watches the Bodyguard? by UmbricMan, literature
Literature
VB: Who Watches the Bodyguard?
"Did you ever notice Brock's like, you know…the Comedian from Watchmen? He's supposed to be a good guy but he's, well, such a merciless badass."
"What?! He's a great guy! And to tell the truth, I don't know why you called him a comedian, either. I never see him tell a joke."
Those words…those words, muttered by Triana and Dean as he had walked by the other day kept playing through his mind as he rushed through the halls of the complex, rapidly-flashing lights bathing everything in a red sheen and alert noises blaring at full volume. Huh, it was odd. Normally he was ready to just kill, but this was distracting him. Maybe he was having anothe
CIV: Battle of Machu Picchu by UmbricMan, literature
Literature
CIV: Battle of Machu Picchu
Under the reddening evening sky, Jordan Cooper, private in the 12th arquebusier regiment, finally laid down his heavy pack and took in a slight gasp for air, then resumed normal breathing. The march was over. They had probably marched ten miles today, and by these mountains no less. Imagine.
He was a soldier fighting in what was popularly dubbed the Third Incan War. Congress and the President had declared war on Inca unanimously when they had caught Incan spies about Washington and New York, and though many finally conceded after evidence had been given to the public spies indeed were about-popular opinion still wanted to let the Incans off,
TMNT: Ninja Turtles: Fiction? by UmbricMan, literature
Literature
TMNT: Ninja Turtles: Fiction?
June 17th, 2004 A16
Martial Arts Turtles: Fact or Fiction?
By ANDREW WILGUS, Staff Reporter
For the last decade, a popular urban legend in the New York area is the appearance of 'karate' or 'ninja' turtle-men who move swiftly through the night, occasionally fighting crime and fighting for citizens in need. In recent times, however, increased reportings in both the New York City and Springfield, MA area have caused many people to look once more into the rumors.
"They had ruined me!" says Hadji Takama, 50, a former Japanese businessman. "I do not deny I was doing criminal activities, but they foiled me! Four of them!" Hadji had apparently b
TMNT: Ninja Turtles: Fiction? by UmbricMan, literature
Literature
TMNT: Ninja Turtles: Fiction?
June 17th, 2004 A16
Martial Arts Turtles: Fact or Fiction?
By ANDREW WILGUS, Staff Reporter
For the last decade, a popular urban legend in the New York area is the appearance of 'karate' or 'ninja' turtle-men who move swiftly through the night, occasionally fighting crime and fighting for citizens in need. In recent times, however, increased reportings in both the New York City and Springfield, MA area have caused many people to look once more into the rumors.
"They had ruined me!" says Hadji Takama, 50, a former Japanese businessman. "I do not deny I was doing criminal activities, but they foiled me! Four of them!" Hadji had apparently b
CIV: Battle of Machu Picchu by UmbricMan, literature
Literature
CIV: Battle of Machu Picchu
Under the reddening evening sky, Jordan Cooper, private in the 12th arquebusier regiment, finally laid down his heavy pack and took in a slight gasp for air, then resumed normal breathing. The march was over. They had probably marched ten miles today, and by these mountains no less. Imagine.
He was a soldier fighting in what was popularly dubbed the Third Incan War. Congress and the President had declared war on Inca unanimously when they had caught Incan spies about Washington and New York, and though many finally conceded after evidence had been given to the public spies indeed were about-popular opinion still wanted to let the Incans off,
VB: Who Watches the Bodyguard? by UmbricMan, literature
Literature
VB: Who Watches the Bodyguard?
"Did you ever notice Brock's like, you know…the Comedian from Watchmen? He's supposed to be a good guy but he's, well, such a merciless badass."
"What?! He's a great guy! And to tell the truth, I don't know why you called him a comedian, either. I never see him tell a joke."
Those words…those words, muttered by Triana and Dean as he had walked by the other day kept playing through his mind as he rushed through the halls of the complex, rapidly-flashing lights bathing everything in a red sheen and alert noises blaring at full volume. Huh, it was odd. Normally he was ready to just kill, but this was distracting him. Maybe he was having anothe
SOUTH PARK:Cartman vs. the FBI by UmbricMan, literature
Literature
SOUTH PARK:Cartman vs. the FBI
(FADE IN: We fade into a a darkened room with two FBI agents. One sits in front of the desk, the other stands close by. The sitting one puts down a phone he had been talking into to look up at the standing agent.)
AGENT 1: You found him?
AGENT 2: Yup.
AGENT 1: Now we can finally find the one who knows aliens exist.... now we can finally find ERIC CARTMAN!
(Quick Cut-QC-to our typical bus scene. The quartet, as usual, is standing there waiting for the bus.)
CARTMAN: I'm telling you, we need to tie Kenny to a tree during a storm!
(The other three get visibly annoyed. Kenny lets out a muffled "HEY!")
KYLE: Yeah fatass. That's as brilliant
NOVEMBER 9TH, 1989
Mere seconds earlier on the TV he heard the eastern propaganda minister make the sudden announcement of entry into the western part of town he realized something well, something big would probably be happening. Moments later he was already out the door of the cheap apartment he had been crammed into by the government for the last several weeks, grabbing his coat, slinging it over his shoulder-hed put it on on the way, no time to waste. What he just heard well, even he knew that was going to be a statement with consequences and very suddenly he needed to see someone--fast.
Brock Samson had been stationed in
Samson? SAMSON!
Ah-eh?
Brock Samson, secret agent, OSI, all-around terror to anyone fated enough to have to face off against him, shot up to attention, mere seconds before face in palm, elbow against the table, more bored than anything else and trying to think of something exciting to keep from falling asleep. It had been slow lately. He didnt like slow.
Thankfully, Hunter calling to him meant something was up.
Get your gear ready. Couple days, were going to Reykjavik.
What for?
Peace summit between us and the commies. Naturally, that means some killings gonna be go
Broooooock!
Eh? Brock turned around and looked over the couch. Dean was standing there, hands on hips, his face scrunched up into one of clear annoyance. What do you want, Dean?
Well . Dean looked nervous for a second, hunching over slightly as his natural timidity took over for a moment. He then had another look of determination and quickly stood back up. Well, Id like to spend some time. With with you!
What? Samson merely raised an eyebrow.
Sure! Youre always helping POP with whatever. He raised one hand up and raised his voice slig
Hank would remember the day started out like so many others, after all. Birds chirping, bees buzzing, the sun high and shining and warming up the beautiful late summer day like it did so many others and that most of all it was-
-BORING! he yelled out loud in such an incredulous tone. Only his brother Dean was around to hear him, and per usual like so many days-as Hank remembered-he looked up from his well-read Jr. Boy Detective book (Jr. Boy Detective and the Case of the Mysterious Teachers Lounge), rolled his eyes, and sighed before burying his nose in the tome again.
Hank just stared back to his brother. Uh, Dean?