# Pulp Spycraft (FINAL UPDATE!) *Updated 04/15/03*



## jonrog1 (Dec 13, 2002)

*PULP SPYCRAFT*

Born of an unholy blend of _Spycraft_, D20Modern, and a one-shot for some of the usual Dark*Matter crew – Ross, Johanna, and Denis.

The year is 1940.

The US has yet to be drawn into the war – officially.  London burns, Europe is in chains, and the behind the scenes the Great Game is played out by Agents of Extraordinary Caliber …

*********************************************

Morning broke so beautifully this day, one could almost forget the sirens, the screams, the black haze even now clawing at the sky from the center of London.  This neighborhood of brownstones was almost untouched by the war.  Stone staircases with iron-hewed rails lead up to solid oak doors.  A few shattered windows, the ever-present bicycles were the only evidence that these Victorian homes were in anything but their heyday.

A young lady strode purposefully toward one of the brownstones.  She was in her late teens, perhaps early twenties, wild hair blowing in the breeze.  She wore grey skirt and white blouse of one of Europe’s richer private schools.  She no longer attended that institution – she’s been kicked out yet again.  She had a hard time adjusting to polite society – or any sort of structure society, at that.  One of her more astute house-mothers once used the phrase “borderline sociopath”.  Pity that dorm burned down as it did …

The girl offered to do her father this favor in order to forestall his disappointed lectures.  One of her father’s scientific associates in London, Vittorio Littello, had written letters claiming some dark power stalked the academics of Europe.  Littello was an old friend, and he didn’t panic easily.  He deserved a personal visit.

The brownstones were identical, but the girl had no need to check her father’s letter.  She’d memorized the address involuntarily.  It was just the way her mind worked.

For she was Nadia Tesla, the daughter of Nicolai Tesla, the greatest scientist the world has ever known.

From the other direction, a long black Bentley rolled down the street.  It arrived at the brownstone Nadia sought just as she did.  

The front door of the car opened.  Out stepped a tall Italian in an excellent suit and long flowing topcoat.  He whistled cheerfully, scanning the street.  A beat later, the rear door opened, the passenger unfolding from within.  His jaw was impossibly square, his shoulders improbably broad, his smile annoyingly flawless.  Spotting Nadia, he touched his forehead instinctively. _Used to wearing a uniform cap_, Nadia mentally filed.

Nadia ignored the two.  She trotted up the stairs lightly, arrives at the door.  She knocked –

-- _BRRRRAPPPPPPP!!_ Machine-gun fire SPLINTERED the door inches above her head!

Before she could even react, two of the most extraordinary things occurred.

The Italian gentleman’s hands suddenly filled with two heavy .45’s as if by magic.  In one smooth move he leapt forward, ran _up along the railing of the stairs_, his topcoat flapping like a great dark cape.  Another leap and he SMASHED through the front window, guns blazing!

The handsome young man took the stairs in two bounds.  He swept her around, shielding her with his body, his back to the door.  “Captain Tom Houston, miss. Pardon me.”  Casually, he kicked in the door behind him, sending four hundred pounds of wood crashing off its hinges.

If he was expecting gratitude, Houston was sorely surprised.  Nadia’s hand flashed beneath her skirt, high on her thigh.  A glittering Walther .32 caliber caught the light as it appeared.  “This is the point where you get off me.”

Houston decided to file this bizarre European behavior away for later.  He stepped into the darkened brownstone.

To the Captain's left, the Italian was firing away with both guns, somehow dodging the bullets perforating his topcoat.  The stairs to the second floor were dead ahead.  The machine-gun toting assailants fired wildly from the landing at the top.

Incredibly, the half-dozen seemed to have stepped from the Middle Ages!  They wore chain-mail and tabards, with longswords at their sides!  

Their machineguns were modern enough, though, and they needed to be dealth with.  Captain Tom Houston tore his own shirt and coat away, revealing a blue chain shirt beneath, a single star on his chest.  

The shield slid onto his forearm smoothly.

Time to test this thing out.


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## Morrow (Dec 13, 2002)

*Jonrog is at it again.*

Don't think we haven't noticed this.  We'll be watching you closely.  Very bad things are going to start happening very soon, and we know who is responsible.

Morrow


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## Ziona (Dec 13, 2002)

Wow. Excellent writing style!  I can't wait to see what happens next.  In some weird way, I'm reminded of Octavia E. Butler's scifi/elseworlds-esq short stories.  Keep up the good work!!


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## fenzer (Dec 17, 2002)

Jon, I giggled like a giddy school girl when I noticed the link in your sig.  My strange behavior was well rewarded.  Thank you.  WWII era gaming is one of my favorites.  I can't wait to see what you have in store.

By the way, since this game is a hybrid of yours, have you looked at Pinnacle's Wierd Wars series?  It is their d20 World War II game with a little fantasy thrown in, monsters and magic mostly.  I would recommend a look for the historic data alone.  The boys at Pinnacle are quite good.

Anywho, I am glad you are writing again.  I think I lost five pounds when I realized that your "Southern Girls" story hour was finished.  Now I can snack again.


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## Piratecat (Dec 20, 2002)

Why am I seeing some early uses of a certain super-serum...?


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## Kamard (Dec 20, 2002)

Cursed, cursed, cursed Captain America.


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## (contact) (Dec 21, 2002)

Okay, you gotta come with it now, Jonrog.  

[Hypnotic Stare]

You are growing very relaxed, veeeery relaxed.  You are slipping deeper and deeper into a state of total relaxation.  You will regard my suggestions in the most positive light, and desire to fulfill them above all other imperatives.

*Post more, sleep less.* 

When I snap my fingers, you will awaken with a powerful desire to post more updates to this thread.  You will be unaware that I have given you this suggestion, but be compelled to obey nonetheless.

*snap*

[/Hypnotic Stare]

Fun fun pulp fun!  Update more!


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## jonrog1 (Dec 23, 2002)

All three moved at once.  The Italian cut hard right, crossing the bottom of the stairs, guns BOOMING.  Nadia Tesla raced up the stairs with suicidal glee, her small gun coughing, catching one of the armored men in the throat.  She skipped lightly over him as he rolled down the stairs.

Captain Tom Houston passed her, though, taking the stairs in great strides, SPARKS pinging off his shield --

-- the shield shaped like the great state of Texas.  For Captain Tom Houston was the first of the super-serum test subjects.  He was ... *Captain Texas*.

"Say hello to Laredo!" Captain Texas bellowed as he cracked an assassin's skull with  precisely the section of the shield corresponding to that fine town.  With a snap of the arm, his shield FLEW away, crushed the chests of two of the anachronistic assassins, then rebounded beautifully back into his hand.

As he reached the top of the stairs, he shouldered one of the "knights" down, sending him tumbling.  The Italian below swore, now having to deal with three machine-gun wielding killers simultaneously.  He and the three circled the heavy rail and bannister of the stairs, wood splinters everywhere.

Nadia used the super-soldier as cover to dash into an open doorway.  She cursed as she realized that the pantry she'd entered led nowhere -- and one of the assassins dropped his machine-gun, drew his longsword and rushed her!

Up on the second story landing, Captain Texas was a whirling mass of fists and sheild metal.  One of the killers got off a lucky shot.  Houston felt a rib go beneath his chain shirt, but he shook it off, savagely disarming the man with his shield edge.

The Italian finally put two of his opponents down at close range.  When the third raised his weapon, the lithe gunman spun, catching the machine-gun barrel in the edge of his overcoat and knocking it away.  That split-second was all the time the Italian needed to press his .45 against the man's teeth and pull the trigger.

In the pantry Nadia ducked as the knight's longsword bit into the cupboard beside her.  The man pressed her too hard for her to bring up her gun.  As he bared his teeth and lunged again she ducked under his swing and placed her hand flat on his chest.

_ZZZAAPPPPP!_  10,000 volts arced from the delicate ring on her finger through the man's armor.  He convulsed, flew back and SLAMMED into the doorframe.  She didn't wait for him to stop twitching.  Nadia leapt over him and into the next doorway.  That one had an inner door -- and if she were right, it led to the bedroom the assassins had come from.  She bolted through the opening.

Nadia immediately saw two things in the bedroom.  First, the figure of Vittorio Littello, slumped over his writing desk.  Second, one last assassin lurked at the main door, about to get the drop on Captain Texas.

Houston tossed his opponent over the rail.  He turned just in time to see the bedroom door open.  The last of the knights was there, gun raised --

Suddenly, the dark young girl was behind the man.  She stuck her hands out on either side of his neck.  The knight looked at the delicate wrists on either side of him.  "Hey," he thought, "what a pretty charm bracelet.  Is that an elephantUUURRKKKK --"

At that moment Nadia TIGHTENED the Tesla Monomolecular Filament Garrotte(_tm_) she'd just unraveled from her charm bracelet.  She placed one foot in the small of the man's back, WALKED up his spine and back-somersaulted through her own arms.

She and the man's head landed simultaneously.  His body hit the floor a beat later.

Captain Texas arched an eyebrow.  "Ain't you full of surprises little lady."

"I do not see as that is any of your concern."  Nadia crossed to Littello's slumped figure.  She studied him, her pretty b row furrowed.

Houston nodded to the Italian as he reached the top of the stairs.  "Right nice job there, Furious."

"Furio", the Italian corrected laconically.  He'd long since given up hope this soldier would get the name right.  He perked up at the sound of sirens.  "_Policia_, I will deal with them."

Houston joined Nadia at the body.  Litello was seated at his writing desk, head down, as if he'd fallen asleep reading.  "Looks like we got here a little late for Dr. Littello.  He's dead, right?"

"More than dead."  With her index finger, Nadia pushed the top of Littello's skull.  It _slid away_.  Like the lid of a jar, the top of his skull flopped onto the desk ... revealing a bare, empty skull beneath. 

"Someone has stolen Dr. Littello's brain."


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## fenzer (Dec 23, 2002)

jonrog1 said:
			
		

> *"Someone has stolen Dr. Littello's brain." *




Excellent! (in my best Monte Burnes)  Fun action Jonrog.  Thanks for the update.


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## KidCthulhu (Dec 23, 2002)

jonrog1 said:
			
		

> *"Someone has stolen Dr. Littello's brain." *




Mmmm.  Eat brains.

Two JonRog stories at once.  I think I might just swoon with happy.


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## LightPhoenix (Dec 24, 2002)

Alright, I almost pissed myself over Captain Texas.  Hilarious!


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## (contact) (Dec 25, 2002)

Ah, I love it.  Captain Texas.    Will he ever get a sidekick?


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## Zarthon (Dec 25, 2002)

I just found this story and I think it's great.

Keep it coming jonrog


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## Jeph (Dec 26, 2002)

jonrog1 said:
			
		

> *
> "Someone has stolen Dr. Littello's brain." *




You know, that reminds of one of the excerpts from Kill Puppies For Satan (by Lumpley Games). One of the stats for zombies is Wants to Eat Your Brains. The older the corps, the higher their Wants to Eat Your Brains score.


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## threshel (Dec 30, 2002)

*Happy Holidays to us!*

I can't believe it.  Another jonrog1 story.

I am in ecstatic agony...

Now I will obsessively check for updates on *two* stories.

Oh boy.


J


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## jonrog1 (Dec 31, 2002)

*PULP SPYCRAFT*

Capt. Houston stared into the shiny, scrubbed-clean white brainpan of Dr. Litello.  "Now that's a helluva thing, he muttered ...

... to no one.  The girl had slipped away silently.

Two blocks away,  the "girl" -- Nadia -- stepped into a phone booth.  She arched an eyebrow as police cars raced  past her.  She attached her miniature Tesla WorldWideWave Transmitting Box _(tm)_ to the phone.  In a moment she was in contact with her father, half a world away.  "Dr. Littello's dead ... well no, I didn't do it ... YES, I'm sure I didn't.  There were some military types there, including someone I believe is a transgenic experiment ... no, on our side."

When her father finished his instructions, Nadia did her best to talk him out of it, but it was no good.  She hung up the phone, hiked her skirt up two inches and pulled her top button down three in anticipation of dealing with men, and headed back for the brownstone.

Outside, Furio stood  surrounded by police.  He was holding a baseball bat.  Neither Nadia nor Captain Texas realized it at the time, but while they were upstairs dealing with Littello, Furio had chased down one of the fleeing assassins and beaten him like a Jersey bookie.  "No, it's okay," he insisted, showing them the bloody bat.  "Louisville Slugger.  American.  Good guys."

A car pulled up.  From the backseat stepped a heavyset man in a tailored suit.  He nodded to Nadia as she approached.  "Miss Tesla.  I believe we've met.  Jakob Kriegstein."

"My father asked me to assist you in this matter --"  Before Kriegstein could comment, she smiled.  "-- in what small way I could ever help Room 39."  

It was the smile.  No one could ever resist the smile.

Nadia and Kreigstein entered the brownstone, leaving Furio to explain how a proper follow-through made for a clean kneecap-smash. They stepped up around the carnage, entered Littello's bedroom.

Houston was trying to search the premises, but his large, square Kirby-hands _(DM's Note: That's how Ross described them.  He is King Geek, all bow.)_ hampered him.  He snapped a salute as Kriegstein entered.  Kriegstein waved him off.

"You're in my office not three hours ago promising that you'll be no trouble," Kriegstein snapped, looking into Littello's skull, "and here you are in the middle of a war zone."

"It's where I'm meant to be," Houston said.

"Yes, well I'd rather you went and found one rather than manufacture them in the center of London."  A _click_ from behind them interrupted the spat.  Nadia had quietly, efficiently been searching the premises while they chatted.  She showed them Littellos' journal.

"Most of this is his work --"

"Classified," Kriegstein snapped.

"--  somewhat haphazard filing system, annoyingly, until the end.  Here he mentions how he'd lost track of several important colleagues.  At first, he assumed they'd evacuated London because of the bombing, and they'd soon be in touch.  But here  --" Nadia indicated a list on the back page. "-- here he's made a full list, and it's rather distressing.  Weapons, electronics, engineering geniuses ...  but then here there's another list of artistic types gone missing ..."

"What was the good doctor working on?" Houston  asked.  He politely slid Littello's skull closed.

Kriegstein looked uncomfortable answering, so Nadia jumped in.  "Electronic/brain interface.   He was trying to work up the similarities between the brain and a computer."

Houston nodded.  After a long moment he asked. "What the deuce is a computer?"

Nadia sighed.

Houston then shoved one of the corpses with his boot.  "And who are these fellas?"

"Steel Eagles," Kriegstein answered.  "A pseudo-Masonic order with close ties to the Aryan legend, supporters of the British/German brotherhood."  Houston looked puzzled.  "There are many in both Britain and Germany who remember the historic relationships between the nations, and feel this conflict is pointless.  They are sympathetic to the Nazis."

"Nazis," Houston growled.  "I hate those guys ..."


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## fenzer (Dec 31, 2002)

jonrog1 said:
			
		

> *
> Houston nodded.  After a long moment he asked. "What the deuce is a computer?"
> 
> "Nazis," Houston growled.  "I hate those guys ..." *




I love this guy.


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## LightPhoenix (Jan 1, 2003)

jonrog1 said:
			
		

> *
> "Nazis," Houston growled.  "I hate those guys ..." *




Maybe he should be Captain Indiana...


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## Nail (Jan 1, 2003)

LightPhoenix said:
			
		

> *Alright, I almost pissed myself over Captain Texas.  Hilarious! *



Tell me about it.....

BTW, why am I seeing this "Captain Texas" with the face of G.W.B.?  Someone, please correct me!

Yer one liners are awesome, *jonrog1*.  May we have another year of 'em.


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## jonrog1 (Jan 1, 2003)

Nail said:
			
		

> *Yer one liners are awesome, jonrog1.  May we have another year of 'em. *




And a Happy New Year to all my fellow dice-throwers!!

(And I can't take credit for the one-liners.  My players are all movie freaks -- Ross had been waiting to use that line since he heard we'd be playing pulp ...)


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## Churchill (Jan 2, 2003)

*Large, square Kirby-hands*

"...large, square Kirby-hands..."

That, alone, is worth the price of admission. Even if I were actually paying for it. 

Now, when do we see Kirby-dots?


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## Yellow Sign (Jan 3, 2003)

> "Say hello to Laredo!" Captain Texas bellowed as he cracked an assassin's skull with precisely the section of the shield corresponding to that fine town.




 Everyone in my office just looked at me when I let out a big laugh at that! I am from Texas and I am wondering why I didn't come up with that. It's priceless! Adding this to my must read list which is getting longer by the day.


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## Lazybones (Jan 3, 2003)

Something tells me that if you guys ever decided to play "straight" D&D, it'd end up looking like a Terry Pratchet novel. 

Looking forward to more.


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## Horacio (Jan 7, 2003)

ROFLOL!

Everything near me at University look at me now and wonder why I'm laughing out loud.

It's your fault, JonRog, your fault...

I love this story


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## jonrog1 (Jan 8, 2003)

*PULP SPYCRAFT

Warning: PG-13 subject matter*

An hour later, the mismatched spies stood in Kriegstein's office. 

"Miss Tesla, allow me."  Kriegstein indicated the two men.  "Captain Tom Houston is here courtesy of the United States Army, on a 'test run' of some of his new ... training and equipment."

_"... and a bloodstream full of transgenic supersteroids ..."_ Nadia thought to herself.  She smiled prettily, though, and said nothing.  

"Mister ... ahh ..."

"Furio."  Furio bowed elegantly.  Nadia caught a glimpse of the .45's strapped to the small of his back.  There was the outline of a back-up piece under his pantsleg, too.  His accent was almost impenetrable.  "The pleasure is mine."

"Mr. Furio is on loan from a Mister Luciano, an American ... businessman."

Furio sat on Kriegstein's couch and put his feet up on a three-century old table.  "I do jobs for Lucky.   His cousin wrote him and said he was in trouble, Mr. Luciano sent me to check on him."

"What will you do now that he's dead?"

Furio shrugged.  "Kill whoever killed him.  The usual."   Before the others could reply, he asked, "Do you have any marijuana?"

"I ... beg your pardon?"  Kreigstein frowned.

"Oh, sorry, British must have different word.  Reefer.  Mary-Jane.  Smoke.  That's how I got my nickname."   Furio looked from face to face.  "It takes the edge off the shooting and the killing and the begging for their lives while you do the hitting and the smashing with the crying ... you know."

_(DM's Note: In SPYCRAFT tradition, each character had a codename.  Furio's was 'Smoke' because of the smoke emnating from his gunbarrels.  Denis decided to go another way, which is weird, because he doesn't partake.  But historically intriguing ...)_

Captain Houston decided to change the subject.  "I'll tell you what-for, Krikey --" Kriegstein winced at Houston's tendency to give everyone annoying nicknames -- "we work together, this little lady better understand exactly who's in charge."

"I understand completely.  I'm in charge."  Nadia glared up at the blue eyes a good foot-and-a-half above her.

"Miss Tesla and I have a previous relationship..." Kriegstein began.  

Furio arched his eyebrows.  "You and her?  Good job, Krikey --"

"-- Please don't call me that --"

"-- I mean, she's young and you're old and fat --"

"Not that type of relationship."  Nadia sniffed.  "Besides, I'm in the middle of experimenting with my orientation."

"Now little missy," Houston chuckled, ruffling her hair, "I don't think that word means what you think it means."

Nadia gritted her teeth and wondered if her father's monomolecular filament would cut through vibranium.  She forced herself back to the matter at hand.  "There is one name repeated regularly in Littello's journal -- *Mountheim*."

Kriegstein slapped a file on the table.  "Lord Edward Mountheim.  Quite the _bon vivant_, he hosts quite a few 'sweater parties.'"

"Now Krikey --"

"-- please don't call me that --"

"-- what exactly's one of these here 'sweater parties?'"

"The intellectuals living in London, working on the war effort, are quite popular with the social crowd.  It's considered chic to host a group of the awkward fellows, introduce them around, pour a little wine into them.  As they usually gad about in sweaters, the parties are called --"

"Please, we get it."  Nadia finished speed-reading Mountheim's file.  "He's got links to the Steel Eagles."

"Mmm, we've suspected him of Nazi sympathies before, but we could never prove anything. "  Kriegstein spread out surveillance photos.  "Mountheim built his mansion onto the front of a centuries old monastery here on the edge of London.  Grafted the new building right onto the front of the old.  Quite gauche."

"Well I say we swing on in there and bounce Mister Lordy-Pants off the walls a couple times until he tells us what for!"  Houston adjusted his shield and waited for the universal accolades to rain down on that plan.

After a long silence,  he frowned.  No wonder these Brits were having trouble with a bunch of goose-stepping mama's boys.  No git-up-and-go.

"Lord Mountheim is throwing a party this evening, a formal dinner party hosting most of the society, intellectuals and artists still staying in London," said Kriegstein.

"In that case, I just have one question."  Nadia hitched a thumb at Houston.  "Where do we get a tux tailored to cover that ridiculous shield?"

"This is Texas, missy," Houston grumbled.  He was dead serious. "I'd ask you to kindly remember that."


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## fenzer (Jan 8, 2003)

jonrog1 said:
			
		

> *
> "Not that type of relationship."  Nadia sniffed.  "Besides, I'm in the middle of experimenting with my orientation."
> 
> "Now little missy," Houston chuckled, ruffling her hair, "I don't think that word means what you think it means."
> ...




No really.  I love this guy.   Jon, I haven't laughed this hard in a log while.  Thank you.


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## Horacio (Jan 8, 2003)

JonRog, this is one the funniest yet the most interesting tales I've read in these forums... and I've read a lot.


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## Welverin (Jan 8, 2003)

Horacio said:
			
		

> *JonRog, this is one the funniest yet the most interesting tales I've read in these forums... and I've read a lot. *




What do you mean "a lot?" I thought you read all of them.

Good work JR.


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## Horacio (Jan 9, 2003)

Welverin said:
			
		

> *
> 
> What do you mean "a lot?" I thought you read all of them.
> 
> *




Well, maybe one or two of them escaped under the radar...


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## KidCthulhu (Jan 9, 2003)

*



			Furio looked from face to face. "It takes the edge off the shooting and the killing and the begging for their lives while you do the hitting and the smashing with the crying ... you know."
		
Click to expand...


*
I'm sure he didn't do it this way, but I keep hearing this line read with a Jerry Lewis voice.  "With the hitting and the smashing.  Flameal!"

Or is that ruining the mood?


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## emergent (Jan 9, 2003)

> "Well I say we swing on in there and bounce Mister Lordy-Pants off the walls a couple times until he tells us what for!" Houston adjusted his shield and waited for the universal accolades to rain down on that plan.
> 
> After a long silence, he frowned. No wonder these Brits were having trouble with a bunch of goose-stepping mama's boys. No git-up-and-go.




So I am at my desk at work, eating chili, and I happen to read this.  Good god, jonrog!  Are you aware of the danger your story poses to a man, his lunch, and a computer?!



> "This is Texas, missy," Houston grumbled. He was dead serious. "I'd ask you to kindly remember that."




And, having lived in the wonderful Lone Star  State for some time, I can assure all of you this is an accurate portrayal of a Texan who has become a super-hero.


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## Welverin (Jan 9, 2003)

Horacio said:
			
		

> *Well, maybe one or two of them escaped under the radar...  *




Looks like someone needs to recruit more story hour gnomes.


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## Mr Fidgit (Jan 9, 2003)

KidCthulhu said:
			
		

> *I'm sure he didn't do it this way, but I keep hearing this line read with a Jerry Lewis voice.  "With the hitting and the smashing.  Flameal!"*



LOL! Furio will never quite sound the same to me again  

great Story Hour jonrog1!


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## Schmackboy (Jan 9, 2003)

*KIRBY HANDS!!!!*

Giant, whacking, massive KIRBY HANDS!!

http://www.twomorrows.com/kirby/media/34cover.jpg

Every KIRBY HAND ends in a SQUARED FINGER (TM):

http://www.collectingfool.com/covers/cap199.jpg

They're murder on search checks.

Beautiful job, jonrog1.  Thanks for all your hard work!

-Ross
aka "Ross" in Dark Matter
Capt Texas in Pulp
Jastra and Taggart in the Scarred Lands...
hoping for the Pulp Spycraft "Captain Texas vs. Arnim Zola" sequel...


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## jonrog1 (Jan 9, 2003)

KidCthulhu said:
			
		

> *
> 
> I'm sure he didn't do it this way, but I keep hearing this line read with a Jerry Lewis voice.  "With the hitting and the smashing.  Flameal!"
> 
> Or is that ruining the mood? *




Curse you!  Although Furio speaks with precisely the same accent as Furio on _The Sopranos_, I too now have the Frink-voice in my head.   I'll have to get it out by using it as a vilain voice in the next game.


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## jonrog1 (Jan 13, 2003)

*PULP SPYCRAFT*

*That evening ...*

Nadia and Houston peered at the mansion from the back of Furio's borrowed Daimler autocar.  "That's a sight, all right," Houston admitted.

"Yes, it must be quite a shock, coming from the  desert towns of your state, to see a building over three stories tall."  Nadia, peered through opera glasses at the bizarre structure.  

A vast, square ninth-century monastery/keep sat atop this hill on the outskirts of London.  Several circular towers decorated each corner of the stone-and-mortar ruin.  The walls stretched a hundred feet into the night sky.  Literally stuck onto the face of this ancient edifice was a sprawling white marble mansion.  A long circular driveway looped up from the main road, past the guarded wall of the estate's front yard, arched to the front door of the mansion and then circled back down to the street.  Dozens of black-tie guests clustered at the front door, waiting for their invitations to be checked.

"We got tall buildings in Texas, missy," Houston explained patiently.  The poor girl had obviously never had the pleasure of being in that fine state.  "And the city of Houston itself is very tropical."

Nadia sighed.  "Thank you.  I don't know how I would have dragged my way through the rest of my miserable existence without that nugget of topographical knowledge burrowing away at my medulla oblongata.  Now, do we have a plan?"

Furio craned his neck around from the driver's seat. "I was thinking, the Captain and I climb the wall over by the side of the mansion while you distract them."

"And how should I distract them?"

Furio shrugged his head.  "Blow something up."

Houston nodded.  "Exactly."

"You know," Nadia said as she adjusted her gown, "there are distractions other than blowing things up."

Houston stared at her.  He squinted, lost in thought.  Finally, slowly, he shook his head.  "I don't think so.  Furious?"

Furio was also concentrating, hard.  "I suppose ... setting a fire would be a distraction ... but  that would end with something blowing up, and that's always better."  Houston nodded.

"Just drive."  Nadia checked the various goodies of her father's invention she might need.  This was going to be a long night.  "There's another option."  The men raised their eyebrows.  "Watch."

*****************************

The guards at the door subtly stepped into the trio's path.  "Invitation?"

"I'm afraid we don't have one."  Nadia flashed the smile.  "We're just in London for a few days, and so many of my friends are at this party, I just had to come."

"Miss, I'm afraid --"

"Could you just tell Lord Mountheim that Nadia Tesla is here?"

The guard's jaw dropped.  His partner shifted nervously.  Houston tensed when he spotted the gun half-hidden in the man's waistband.  It would be so easy to cut through these tuxedoed dandies with the sweet, sweet taste of righteous  American vengeance ...  but he restrained himself.  He'd give this not-blowing-something-up plan five more minutes.

The guards scurried away.  Mere moments later, they returned, apologizing profusely.  "Lord Mountheiim is deliriously hapy you've arrived.  Please, go right in."

As they passed through the doors, the Head Steward greeted them. "I see you've brought your own domestic."  They looked at each other, realized the Steward was looking at Furio.  "I'll bring him to the kitchen immediately.  You don't mind if he helps in the general serving?"

Nadia motioned Furio away.  He paused for a moment, then slowly -- sloooowwllly --  followed the Head Steward.  

Houston and Nadia swept thorugh the mansion's foyer.  They passed a grand staircase, beyond which lay large, almost garage-sized doors.  Both spies caught sight of the guards lurking in the shadows.

"My geography's right, just past there's the main body of the old monastery," Houston whispered.  "Wouldn't mind getting in there."

"Let's see if we can find a way in that doesn't involve the cunningly disguised blast doors."  Nadia nodded graciously as several young scientists waved to her.

In the ballroom, things were in full swing.  A big band played, guests mingled, servants patrolled with silver tray of _hors d'oeuvres_ and champagne flutes.  On the opposite end of the room, French doors opened out to a patio and lovely overgrown garden.

"Miss Tesla?"  The two turned at the sound of a high, aristocratic, vaguely Germanic accent.

The man before them was in an impeccable black evening jacket, gold pince-nez perched on a ski-slope nose.  He held his cigarette pinched between the forefinger and thumb of his right hand, held palm up.  "I am Lord Mountheim." 

Nadia curtsied prettily.  "This is Captain Houston, an American military attache."  Mountheim bowed extravagantly.  Houston made a mental note -- however this evening turned out, Little Lord Fauntleroy here would get one upside his head.

"You can't  iiiimmmagggiiinnne how pleeeased I am to have you here."  Nadia noticed that Mountheim was not looking at her cleavage,  as might be expected.  He was, rather disconcertingly, staring at her skull.  "A young lady of your intellectual caliber, with such a fine, fine head on her shoulders."  Mountheim grinned.  "How lucky I am to have you at my party.  I assure you, it will be the last party you EVER ENJOY."

"Beg pardon?"  Nadia asked.

"Oh.  I meant, the last party ... you'll ever enjoy ... quite like this one ... because of the enjoyability."  Pause.  "And the band.  Dance!"  With that, Mountheim swept away, leading with his hips.  His torso and cigarette trailed behind his cumberbund like a fey kite.

Nadia and Houston watched him go.  Houston whispered. "Think he suspects?"

Nadia was still cycling through sarcastic comebacks when a young man interrupted them.  He was elegantly handsome, and impeccably dressed.  "Nadia Tesla, as I live and breathe.  David McGregor --"

"-- the engineer!"  Nadia air-kissed around McGregor's cheeks.  She'd met the lad at one of her father's seminars.     

"Great seeing you."  McGregor waved his hand around the room.  "You're in fantastic company.  I swear, every scientist and artist left living in London is here tonight."

For some reason, that filled Nadia with dread.  She turned to tell the Captain --

-- he was gone.  

And that filled her with more dread.

*****************************

What Nadia had missed was Furio's sudden appearance at Houston's side.  The gunman was carrying a tray of champagne.  "I found something," he whispered.  "A doorway, at the back of the kitchen."

"What should we do?"  Houston asked.    Nadia was making small talk with this new pretty-boy.  Natter, natter, natter, if this was spying, he preferred the battlefield.

Furio didn't answer,  but instead led Houston silently away.

Once they reached the kitchen, Furio suddenly whirled and THREW his drink tray on Houston's shirt.  Before Houston could react, Furio backed into the kitchen, begging: "Signore, I am so sorry, please, please --"

Houston caught on.  He barreled into the kitchen.  "That's it, you useless moron!  I'm sick of --"

The Head Steward interrupted.  "Sir, is there a problem?"

Houston glared at Furio.  "Just this damn lazy servant of mine.  I don't suppose you mind if we have a minute?  I feel a man should discipline his own domestics, but we should have a little decorum."

The Head Steward nodded, a sadistic gleam in his eye.  "Of course sir."  He clapped, and the rest of the help cleared the kitchen.  "And if I may, there are several very appropriate items here in the kitchen for dealing out a soud thrashing."

"Err, thanks."  Houston waited until the Steward left.  He rounded on Furio, shaking his head.  "Is everybody on this side of the Atlantic all freaky-like?"

"You know, I am from Italy," muttered Furio.  But he led Houton to a locked door in the back of the room.  "Think you can --"

CRACK.  The doorframe was massive, but Houston quickly levered the knob clean off.  He eased the door open.

An ancient stone corridor stretched away to their right and left.  Dead ahead of them was a circular stairwell heading upward.  Houston slid his shield out from under his tux.   Instantly, the two men slipped through the door, eased it shut, and stepped silently up the water-worn, dank stone stairs.  They followed the wall, leaving an open space, free-drop in the center of the shaft.  At the top appeared to be another door ...

They got halfway up before a voice echoed from below them.

"All right!  Whoever's up there, COME DOWN!"  The threat was punctuated by the CH-CHANK of a machine-gun's bolt being slammed back.

"Oh, we're coming down all right ..." Furio called down into the dark, palming his gun.

"Right down," echoed Houston.  He grinned over the edge of his shield.  Finally.  Skulls to crack ...

He hoped Nadia was finding something to blow up.


----------



## (contact) (Jan 14, 2003)

jonrog1 said:
			
		

> *"You know," Nadia said as she adjusted her gown, "there are distractions other than blowing things up."
> 
> Houston stared at her.  He squinted, lost in thought.  Finally, slowly, he shook his head.  "I don't think so.  Furious?" *




This made me laugh out loud.  Not "lol, dude", but actually out loud.  I haven't laughed like that since I saw some girl scouts mugging a investment banker.

Good ol' Cap'n Texas.



> *With that, Mountheim swept away, leading with his hips.  His torso and cigarette trailed behind his cumberbund like a fey kite.*




Is it un-American to root for Mountheim?  Sure, he's a dirty Hun, but I luh-huv this guy.  But not in that way.

(Yet.)


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## Barastrondo (Jan 14, 2003)

(contact) said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Is it un-American to root for Mountheim?  Sure, he's a dirty Hun, but I luh-huv this guy.  But not in that way.
> 
> *




Much to my surprise and faint embarrassment, I find myself practicing each of his lines aloud to see if I can get the accent to the right half-fey, half-Germanic pitch to be as hilarious as it must be in person. 

It's a good thing I don't have to read this story hour in a typical shared office thing. I'd get weird performance reviews for sure. 

Pause. "And the band. Dance!" My lord, that's perfect.


----------



## LightPhoenix (Jan 14, 2003)

(contact) said:
			
		

> *
> 
> This made me laugh out loud.  Not "lol, dude", but actually out loud.  I haven't laughed like that since I saw some girl scouts mugging a investment banker.
> 
> ...




I'll second this.  This is by far the most hilarious story hour on these boards.  Every entry just gets better and better!

I personally loved this quote:



> *
> It would be so easy to cut through these tuxedoed dandies with the sweet, sweet taste of righteous American vengeance ... but he restrained himself. He'd give this not-blowing-something-up plan five more minutes.
> *


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## fenzer (Jan 14, 2003)

Jonrog, thanks again.  I almost woke the kids this time.  I had to keep covering my mouth.  I should read this when the house is not so quiet.   Wonderful, wonderful writing, I can't wait to see what our heroes do next.


----------



## Horacio (Jan 14, 2003)

LOL
But really so loud that I almost woke everybody here. 

I love this story!


----------



## barsoomcore (Jan 14, 2003)

Another supremely entertaining tale, jonrog. Thanks for letting us enjoy your talents in this way.

If you or any of your gang are ever in Vancouver, let me know -- I'll schedule a special Barsoom evening for y'all to sit in on. Players like these are worth their weight in masterwork caltrops.


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## emergent (Jan 14, 2003)

> It would be so easy to cut through these tuxedoed dandies with the sweet, sweet taste of righteous American vengeance ... but he restrained himself. He'd give this not-blowing-something-up plan five more minutes.





Ummmm. . . vengance.


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## Nail (Jan 14, 2003)

> *... but he restrained himself. He'd give this not-blowing-something-up plan five more minutes.*



See!  Now there's good ole American patience for you.  He waited five whole mintues!  Maybe Capt'n Texas is getting soft?


----------



## Lazybones (Jan 14, 2003)

Another of those "I have no idea what's going to happen, but I know it'll be funny and unusual" moments.  Great SH, awaiting more.


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## Shadoe's Lady (Jan 15, 2003)

Good thing I didn't try reading this at work-8 hours of hysterical laughter is NOT in my job description.

But the thing that impressed me most: Someone actually knows where Laredo is!

Wow.

Just, Wow.


----------



## Horacio (Jan 15, 2003)

Shadoe's Lady said:
			
		

> *But the thing that impressed me most: Someone actually knows where Laredo is!
> 
> Wow.
> 
> Just, Wow. *




Well, the funniest thing is that the true Laredo isn't in Texas, it's in the North of Spain, in Santander. It's a small village near the beach. Your Laredo is an homage to the original one 

(Please, take no offense. Just joking about that the Spanish one is the true Laredo. As most Spanish names of American towns, they are taken from Spanish towns, usually because the guy who founded the American town was born in the Spanish one. I always find it funny when you speak of American towns with the same names that Spanish ones )


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## Nail (Jan 15, 2003)

Horacio said:
			
		

> * As most Spanish names of American towns, they are taken from Spanish towns, usually because the guy who founded the American town was born in the Spanish one. *



An' they're not all in Texas.  Laredo, Missouri, fer instance.

And that "they're born there" thing doesn't work out, either.  During the Mexican-American War, American troops from Iowa were real impressed with Mexico, so when they came back, they named some Iowan towns after their favorite spanish names, like _Alta Vista, Iowa_ and _Lourdes, Iowa_.

An' I think Iowa would make a better shape fer a shield, too.  It's not got all those pointy bits, like Texas.

_"Say hello to Alta Vista, evil-doer!"_


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## Welverin (Jan 16, 2003)

I just realized this Sh reminds me of 8-bit Theater. Captain Texas is Fighter, Nadia is Black Mage, and I haven't figured out who Furio corresponds to yet, but I'll go with Red Mage at the moment or maybe Black Belt. The interaction between the characters so far is amazingly similar.



> _Originally posted by Horacio _*Well, the funniest thing is that the true Laredo isn't in Texas, it's in the North of Spain, in Santander. It's a small village near the beach. Your Laredo is an homage to the original one *




Heh, half our cities and towns are named after other places. Sometimes it seems like all of them are. Not an original lot us Americans when it comes to names.


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## Schmackboy (Jan 18, 2003)

Know where Laredo is?

I spent a summer there as a 12 year old getting paid $1 an hour to "pull wire."  Believe me, I know where Laredo is.

One thing is true, though -- no matter how long you've lived in Texas, you're bound to meet someone from a small town you've never heard of.

Haven't seen John post up the other quotes:
"And THIS is El Paso!"
"Allow me to make your acquaintance with the Great State's Panhandle!"
And I think I worked the Piney Woods in there somehow...

I'll never forget jonrog1's face when he asked me what the shield looked like:

"It's shaped like Texas."
"The ENTIRE SHEILD?!"
"Yeah."
"The SHEILD'S SHAPED LIKE TEXAS?!!"
"Yeah. I can do that, right?"
"Well, SURE, BUT WHO WOULD WANT TO??"
"I'm not going to get any projectile weapon penalties, am I?  I mean, it's not going to wobble weird in the air, is it?"
Then with a striaght face: "No. It's been specially weighted."


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## Horacio (Jan 18, 2003)

I love the idea of Captain Texas, and the Texas shaped shield is just the perfect detail


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## jonrog1 (Jan 18, 2003)

Schmackboy said:
			
		

> *Haven't seen John post up the other quotes:
> "And THIS is El Paso!"
> "Allow me to make your acquaintance with the Great State's Panhandle!"
> And I think I worked the Piney Woods in there somehow...*




I believe those come up in the big fight at Mountheim's.  You had a few others, but as you pointed out, who can remember some of those names?



> *I'll never forget jonrog1's face when he asked me what the shield looked like:
> 
> "It's shaped like Texas."
> "The ENTIRE SHEILD?!"
> ...




Yes, it took me a moment to wrap my head around the Texas-shaped Shield.  But only you would try to rules-tweak a Texas-shaped shield. 

And for the curious --

CAPT. TEXAS' SHIELD(Spycraft Stats): Signature Gadget, Large Shield, Defense Bonus +4, Throwing, Returning. Does 1d8+STR damage.  When thrown or used as the second weapon in two-weapon fighting, PC is denied the Def. Bonus.  

Being able to throw the shield requires Exotic Weapon Proficiency(SuperSoldier Shield), Weapon Focus(SuperSoldier Shield)

If PC has the Combat Reflexes and Weapon Specialty(SuperSoldier Shield) feats, then he can attempt the REBOUND:  If the thrown weapon attack roll beats your first target's Defense by more than 5, the Shield REBOUNDS off that opponent and into the next closest one.  Compare the original attack roll to that opponent's Defense.   If it just hits, then  the shield does damage and returns to the PC's hand.  If it beats this opponent's Defense by more than 5, continue the Rebound.  The Shield can Rebound a number of times equal to your Dex. bonus.


----------



## Piratecat (Jan 18, 2003)

I can just picture him shouting "Remember THIS Alamo!" while bashing him with San Antonio. *sniff* It does my heart good; what a great, memorable schtick.


----------



## Speaks With Stone (Jan 22, 2003)

Wow.  This sounds like a blast to play in.  Reminds me of fond days of playing Champions super heroes.  Only you guys are having way too much fun.  That is awesome.

Can't wait to read some more.


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## Dungannon (Feb 3, 2003)

C'mon, jonrog.  I need more of Capt. Texas' heroic actions!


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## jonrog1 (Feb 3, 2003)

The Bad Men who pay me for scripots demand satisfaction and page count.  Hopeful update to all three storylines this week.


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## KidCthulhu (Feb 5, 2003)

> Like a fey kite




Ah, yes, but gems like this one are why the Bad Men pay you.  And the paying puts food on table and roof on head so you can concentrate to run your games and produce more gems like this.  Funny how life works.


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## Zarthon (Feb 7, 2003)

KidCthulhu said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Ah, yes, but gems like this one are why the Bad Men pay you.  And the paying puts food on table and roof on head so you can concentrate to run your games and produce more gems like this.  Funny how life works. *




I agree


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## Horacio (Feb 14, 2003)

hmmm, an update would be nice, wouldn't it?


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## Metus (Feb 16, 2003)

Just got finished reading this story hour, and I have to say that I'm enjoying it immensely.  I'm planning on running a Spycraft game, but I was kinda put-off by the (seemingly) silliness of it.  Moreover, I was a bit skeptical when I read it was set in 1940.  It really is good though, and I'm very impressed.  It's coming off as being fun without being too hokey (or at least hokey in a bad way).

In any case, it's been awhile since last update!  Let's make this a regular story hour on the boards!


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## dogchild (Feb 16, 2003)

Metus,

Your sig--bizzare. Do you mean sentience in the sense of "rational being" or in the sense of "having senses". 

Because if you mean, "I think, therefore I destroy" and "[things that think] are all about overriding instinct," then what you're saying is: destruction goes against instinct. But that's clearly not true. 

So whoops.

Oh, great story hour, keep posting, I'm enjoying it.


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## Metus (Feb 16, 2003)

Dropping nukes and deforestation goes against animalistic instinct.  But let's not bog down this great story hour with philosophy.  Please e-mail me if you'd like to discuss it.

Jonrog, bring on the story!


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## jonrog1 (Feb 21, 2003)

just bumping all three so I can find them easier to update this weekend.   Cheers.


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## jonrog1 (Feb 24, 2003)

*Pulp Spycraft*

Furio, descending the stairs first, shielded Houston’s actions from view.  He saw two guards in plainclothes standing in the lower corridor, by the kitchen door they’d forced.  Then, a _whiiifff_ zipped by his right ear.

“Kiss El Paso!” shouted Houston as the improbably aerodynamic super-soldier shield SLAMMED into the first guard’s chest.  The Nazi sympathizer bounced off the wall as the shield boomeranged back to Capt. Texas.  Furio dove under its arc, his .45 rising.  He prayed the weapon’s BOOM wouldn’t be heard –

-- but he had no need to fire it.  The remaining guard had his hands raised already.  From behind the villain stepped Nadia Tesla, a pretty little .32 pressed against the man’s temple.  Some fop in tweed hovered behind Nadia, staring at the gun in horror.  It was David McGregor, the engineer she'd met at the party.  “Nadia, what , what is this –“

“Do be quiet, David, I barely have enough patience to continue explaining the subtleties of espionage to just one clod-footed dolt.”  Nadia nodded to Furio.  Furio picked up the unconscious guard, pulled him back into the shadows of the tower stairwell.

“Now see here, Miss Tesla, no need to speak about Furious that way.”  Capt. Texas finished adjusting the arm straps on his shield.  “He may be a foreign fella, but that’s the glory of the U. S. of A.  Everybody can pitch in to make it a better place, even – in their own small way -- non-Texans.”

Nadia’s eyes narrowed.  Could she get a shot off at Houston before he reacted?  Probably not.  With a sigh she shoved her hostage forward. “This corridor runs between the main house and the body of the monastery.  I assume you’ve found a way into the inner sanctum?”

Furio pointed to the top of the spiral stone steps.  “Door up there.  Seems like a good place to kick in and start shooting.”

Nadia ‘s companion, McGregor, agreed to accompany them and remain quiet – Nadia didn’t trust his ability to play it cool back in the party.  In single file they tiptoed up the steps until they reached a steel door anchored into the ancient rock.  Houston grabbed the captured guard by the throat.  “How exactly we get through this?”

“I – _gurgle_ – knock and they answer – _gack_ – my voice.”  

Houston grew annoyed when the man’s eyes rolled back in his head.  A few quick thumps against the stone wall and his cooperative spirit was renewed. “So get to passwording.”

“I don’t think that’s a verb,” whispered Furio.

“Sure it is,” Houston replied.  “ I just said it, didn’t I?  You can take any noun, make it a verb. ‘Prioritize.’  It’s an American thing.”

The guard knocked.  A second later, a voice asked a question in German.  The guard hesitated, but when Nadia hissed a few words in German he quickly realized he couldn’t bluff.  Another phlegm-filled polysyllable later, and the door cracked open.  Before the guard within could react, Capt. Texas SLAMMED through the aperture and tympanied the man’s skull off the far wall.  “Ya see,” he drawled, “if this covert sneaky-business was always broken up by laying a beating every two minutes or so, I could get behind that.”

Furio quickly spun and backhanded their hostage into unconsciousness.  When Nadia looked a question at him, he shrugged. “You wanted to hold a gun on him and sneak at the same time?”

Nadia couldn’t argue with that.  Closing the door behind her, she took in her new surroundings.

The stairs had led them to an upper level, another corridor, this one built within the walls of the monastery some three stories high.  The tower was a dead end, the corridor stretching away along the front of the monastery building.  At the far end the corridor right-angled.  She deduced that this hallway ran all along the outer walls of the ancient edifice.

She could also see light beaming in from the right side of the corridor, and could hear the steady hum of machinery and German voices.  It seemed that just ahead, part of the wall was cut away, creating some sort of observation balcony.  Furio, Nadia, and McGregor crept forward, with Capt. Texas guarding the rear.  When they reached the balcony, they peered past the wall, looked through the metal rail.  What they saw was beyond mind-boggling.

The entire interior of the monastery had been hollowed out into one, vast aircraft hangar-like space.  Down below, legions of white-coated scientists labored at dozens of bizarre super-science projects.  Among them fully-uniformed SS STORMTROOPERS patrolled, both down on the floor and up on the walkway opposite the heroes.  One of the biggest projects was a nine-foot-tall humanoid robot.  Nadia recognized the Mignola design from her father’s studies.  Where the head would be was a series of electrodes and spikes, as if something was to be perched in the brainpan of the creature.  Spread before them was a think-tank of Nazi superscience, creating weapons the likes of which the world had never seen.

“How did the Germans get so ahead of us?” Furio wondered.  “We have DaVinci.  They come to our beaches in tiny bathing suits and demand beer.  This is impossible.” 

Nadia pointed at the hellish object dominating the center of the room.  “That.  My God, they have … _that_.”

It was a Brain-puter.

A nightmarish tree, its silver trunk coiled with thick power cables rose to articulated metal branches.  Those branches spun and whirled on individual orbits, arcane power sparking between contact points.  Like a sickening fruit at the end of each of the hundred branches, a HUMAN BRAIN bubbled in a glassine sphere!

Behind Nadia, McGregor passed out.  She traced the design with her own super-genius mind.  They’d tapped into the raw computing power of human minds.  The missing scientists’ brains were working for the Nazis – literally.  These monsters had somehow figured a way to meld circuitry to synapses.  Why, if they were able to tap even a tenth of the inherent brain power spinning in that bizarre electro-web, the processing power would allow them to rocket past the Allied scientists … 

What Nadia realized then rocked her to the depths of her hardened soul.  Those brains must somehow be alive – the personalities of those slaughtered scientists must still be intact, trapped forever in unending darkness, spiraling into immortal insanity!

Nadia wiped a single tear from her cheek.  She looked up at Houston, saw that his eyes were damp, too.  _“I’ll be,”_ she thought.  _“Even this soldier is moved by the horror we witness here today.”_

Houston wiped his eyes.  He was indeed, crying at the sight before him …

… crying with joy. _”So .. many … @sses … to kick …”_


----------



## Maxwell's Demon (Feb 24, 2003)

You Sir, have made my day.


----------



## Horacio (Feb 24, 2003)

jonrog1 said:
			
		

> *Nadia wiped a single tear from her cheek.  She looked up at Houston, saw that his eyes were damp, too.  “I’ll be,” she thought.  “Even this soldier is moved by the horror we witness here today.”
> 
> Houston wiped his eyes.  He was indeed, crying at the sight before him …
> 
> … crying with joy. ”So .. many … @sses … to kick …” *




Pure genious, that is pure genious, jonrog! 
LOL and LOL again


----------



## fenzer (Feb 25, 2003)

Horacio said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Pure genious, that is pure genious, jonrog!
> LOL and LOL again
> ...




Amen Horacio, amen.  

Excellent read Jon.


----------



## LuYangShih (Feb 25, 2003)

Captain Texas is the Best.  Character.  *EVER.*  His sidekicks are somewhat amusing, too.  This is hilarious and, quite simply, fun.  I love it.


----------



## Dungannon (Feb 25, 2003)

LuYangShih said:
			
		

> *Captain Texas is the Best.  Character.  EVER.*



I think it's a tossup between him and Jo the Drunk Southern Girl.


----------



## KidCthulhu (Feb 25, 2003)

Laughed so hard I scared the dog.  So many @sses, so little time.


----------



## Nail (Feb 25, 2003)

jonrog1 said:
			
		

> *Capt. Texas SLAMMED through the aperture and tympanied the man’s skull off the far wall.  “Ya see,” he drawled, “if this covert sneaky-business was always broken up by laying a beating every two minutes or so, I could get behind that.” *




This is the stuff great players are made of........impatience is a virtue, after all!


----------



## emergent (Feb 25, 2003)

I have had a crappy week, and it's only Tuesday.  Rejections, speeding tickets, more rejections. . .

but then jonrog updates this story hour!

Captain Texas is awesome.  And Furio and Nadia are pretty cool too.

Plus, there are lines like:



> Nadia recognized the Mignola design from her father?s studies.




These make the comic geek in me all sorts of happy.

What shows are you writing for again, because I definitely am tuning in!


----------



## Rel (Feb 26, 2003)

A friend of mine e-mailed me and told me that I just HAD to read this SH.  Boy was he right.  Great stuff.

Re:  Capt. Texas' shield, I'll bet he's glad he didn't try to make "Captain Hawaii".  "Captain Florida" probably wouldn't have fared much better.

But bellowing, "WELCOME TO THE SUNSHINE STATE!! - *WHAM*" would have been fun.

Keep up the good work.

(Nobody needs to lecture me about how Hawaii wasn't a state in 1940.)


----------



## jonrog1 (Mar 12, 2003)

*Pulp Spycraft*

Suddenly,  ALARMS SOUNDED!  Nadia turned to Captain Texas.  “What did you do?”

Furio cut her off. “Sorry, _ma bella_, but listen, those are from outside.  Those are air-raid sirens!”

The first bomb ROCKED the monastery.  London was again being punished from above, but this time the deadly Valkryies were accidentally targeting their own nest.  Another explosion echoed even closer.  Some of the scientists on the floor glanced around in panic – and one glanced directly at the hiding group.  He pointed and yelled.  Instantly, Stormtroopers from every direction spotted them and OPENED FIRE.

Bullets sparking everywhere, Nadia spotted more Stormtroopers pouring from a door on the walkway and rushing them.  She fired down on the soldiers crossing the floor of the compound.  Furio’s other .45 appeared in his hand and he began chewing up the incoming SS troopers.  The alarm bells deafened them, drowning out even the automatic weapons fire.

Capt. Texas whirled as the tower door behind them suddenly burst open.  Three SS Troopers poured into the corridor, guns blazing!  Capt. Texas rushed them, bullets PTANGING off his shield.  The group was flanked on both sides!

*******************************

Little did the group realize, but in the mansion, the alarms could be heard.  Lord Mountheim was in the middle of singing tunes with the pianist when the bells began reverberating all around him.  With an annoyed roll of his eyes, he signaled to the circulating guards. “Fine,” he grumbled, “I never get through ‘Lili Marlene’.  BRING ME MY EQUIPMENT!”

One of his attendants brought him two oversized feather fans and a jeweled bustier.  “No, no,” Mountheim snapped, “MY OTHER EQUIPMENT! … although I do like what you did with the brocade along the seam …”

********************************

On the walkway of the monastery library, Nadia kicked McGregor awake, and stepped past Furio.  “Turn your eyes,” she yelled over the alarms as she pulled off one of her ear-rings.  Furio looked away as she lobbed it toward the incoming Stormtroopers.  When it hit the floor it exploded with a FLASH.  The blinded Stormtroopers stumbled around, clawing at their eyes.  Furio easily picked them off.  Nadia yelled back to the supersoldier, “We need to get off this level!”

Captain Texas reached the tower door even as three more Stormtroopers got to the top of the stairs.  “Your wish is my command little lady!”  With that he rushed the lead soldier. He bull-rushed the man back with his shield, back through the door –-

-- and before the other Nazis could react, the two of them SAILED off into space and PLUMMETED down the central shaft of the spiral stairs!

_(DM's Note: Yes, *Bourne Identity* style.)_

Captain Texas SLAMMED into the floor, the Nazi breaking his fall.  Even so, the terrific Texan was a bit winded.  He was half a second slow crushing the man’s trachea for good measure, and almost didn’t hear the KA-KLANK of automatic weapon slides being jammed into place.

The Nazis on the stairs above opened up full-auto down the shaft, hot lead thundering down onto Captain Texas.  He had just enough time to get his shield over his head.  He knelt on the chest of his first victim, round after round SLAMMING onto his Texas shield, the sheer physical force of so much firepower pushing him down, weighing on him like a deadly Niagara.

Meanwhile, up on the walkway, Furio continued to cover Nadia as she removed one of her high-heel shoes.  She hooked the heel onto the railing, grabbed it with both hands . “Going down!” she shouted, and slung herself over the railing.

But instead of free-falling, a _whirring_ rappelling line from the shoe-hook slowed her descent.  She fell gently, firing at approaching soldiers with her .32.  Nadia touched the ground and motioned for McGregor to follow her down.

At just that moment, a GRINDING noise made her turn.  She’d landed directly next to the BLAST DOORS separating the monastery main archway from the foyer of the mansion.  The massive doors slid upward, revealing the scene within the mansion like curtains parting on a stage:

It was total chaos.  Scientists and party guest were running for the front doors of the mansion.  Plaster and stone fell from the ceiling as the Nazi bombing thundered around them.    A scientist Nadia knew ran past – then JERKED to a halt as a BASKET on the end of a POLE came down over his head.  The man’s hands went to the rim of the basket, scrabbling.  Then there was a SNAP.  Nadia could barely process it as the scientist’s body fell away … _without his head_.

Nadia’s eyes traveled back up the pole.  Lord Mountheim held the end, like a pool-skimmer.  He pivoted the pole around so the basket was over a sack carried by one of the waiters.  Mountheim threw another lever, and with a CLUNK the guillotine blade of the basket retracted.  The freshly harvested head dropped into the sack.  Nadia realized that the sack was almost … _gulp_ … full.

Almost.

Lord Mountheim saw her. Walked forward with the guillotine basket.  With his most charming smile he called out: “Naaaaddiiiaaaaaaa ...”


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## jonrog1 (Mar 12, 2003)

Thanks as always for all the support, everyone.  I just turned in my last overdue first draft (an adaptation of Rucka's _Queen & Country_ for you comic geeks), and I should be able to stay on a once-a-week update schedule for a while.   *Pulp Spycraft* will sadly be ending soon, as it was a one-off, but will be archived.  And plans are forthcoming for another foray for the Agents of Extraordinary Caliber.

A few other updates that may be of interest:

-- *The Core* opens March 28.  Wrote that one, and saw it last week.  It's a far cry from the dumbed-down sci fi of late; I think it lands smack-dab between * Andromeda Strain* and *Fantastic Voyage.*  Hope you like it.

-- Work begins this week on my new gaming website.  The Dark*Matter D20 group will be voting on a name, so assume it will involve monkeys of some sort.  

When opened, the website will start with *"Drop-ins"*: one-page ideas you can utilize no matter what D20 system you're using in order to add fun and variety.  

I love the *Spycraft* system, so a lot of the first Drop-ins will be utilizing OGL sections from those rules.  How to create even pulpier super-science items based on D&D spells but utilizing Gadget Points, a more streamlined requisition system for D20Modern called "What Form Do I Fill Out for the Gym Bag Full of Guns?" (which also shows you how to figure the Budget Points for your D20Modern PC so you can use the many Spycraft expansion books), etc.  Most of the Drop-ins assume you have the relevant rules systems, but there will always be copious illustrative examples.  

Any Drop-ins will always obey the one-page rule: no new rules should ever be brought to a game so complex they can't be boiled down into one page.  GM's need to be able to  shove a page to a PC and say "Here.  Read."

Reviews of OGL concepts rather than products ("The Psi System you Should Be Using...") and a hit page of media to mine for gaming ideas will follow (comics to read, old movies, etc.).

After that, various *free modules as samples (including Story Hour adventures)* will lead to .pdf sales of adventures triple-configured for  D20Modern, Spycraft system, and the upcoming Savage Worlds system by Pinnacle. (If you haven't downloaded the Test Drive Rules from Pinnacle's website, go now.  Bloody elegant)

And then, *concept books*, taking advantage of the fact that my friends and I are writers first, game mechanics second.  We spend our whole day coming up with cool locations to put fight scenes in movies.  You GM's already have your plots -- what you need are locations and weird mechanics.

I hope that's of interest to you, and look forward to giving back to the hobby that's, frankly, kept me from killing anybody for the last two years.

John


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## barsoomcore (Mar 12, 2003)

John, that sounds awesome.  More Pulp Spycraft would be GREAT, of course -- regular updates? Could we be so lucky? But a website of clever ideas by clever people? Uh-huh, yes, please, thank you.

March 28th -- it's on my calendar.


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## fenzer (Mar 12, 2003)

John, thanks for the update.

I am excited about your web page.  I look forward to taking advantage of your creative tallent.    I assume you were intentionally vague but any idea when it will be online?  Soon I hope.


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## jonrog1 (Mar 12, 2003)

Unintentionally vague.  My webmistress (ooo -- _spank_ -- titter) is a little busy, I'm still recruiting a few artists, and the movie premiere's next week.  Looking at the middle of April for the first, minimal early version.


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## fenzer (Mar 13, 2003)

_oh man...i want a web mistress._


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## Horacio (Mar 13, 2003)

WOW!!!

Thanks for the update, jonrog, but I still think you should update more often


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## NiTessine (Mar 13, 2003)

Cool... nice cliffhanger, there.

The website idea sounds like something that would get a place in my bookmarks list, at the very least. Perhaps one day I could actually get to run a modern game and utilize those ideas...


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## Henry (Mar 13, 2003)

Thank you, John, for the only Story Hour that I am now more rabid about than Piratecat's. 

I cannot help but put Tim Curry mentally in the part of Lord Mountheim.


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## jonrog1 (Mar 13, 2003)

See, Curry's bit too campy, I think.  I always tried to find that  "regular actor playing weird part" image for him, like Alec Baldwin in so many great SNL appearances, but I never really landed.

The persona was popular enough (and frankly too stinking fun to play) that another villain in my Scarred Lands campaign wound up taking it over.


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## Nail (Mar 14, 2003)

jonrog1 said:
			
		

> *Thanks as always for all the support, everyone.
> 
> -- The Core opens March 28.   *



Good Luck!


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## jonrog1 (Apr 16, 2003)

*PULP SPYCRAFT*

More stones rained from the roof of the mansion and monastery. A constant fog of dust and smoke fomr small fires now rolled through the laboratory and into the mansion foyer.  Nadia backed away, shoving McGregor behind her.  She knew she had a gun, but the little .32 wasn't too confidence-inspiring when faced with a homcicidal brain-harvesting cabaret-singing Nazi sympathizer.

Flanked by armed guards, Mountheim lurched forward with the guillotine basket.  It arced out toward Nadia --

BOOM BOOM BOOM.  Mountheim gasped as two of his men dropped, their faces now existing nowhere but in their sainted mothers' memories. Furio descended on Nadia's shoe-rappelling line, his .45 thundering.  Mountheim and his men scurried back.  Furio's gun clacked empty halfway down.  Furio released the rope so he could draw his spare automatic with the opposite hand.  He fell the remaining ten feet, landed like a cat.  The new .45 BLAZED at the Nazis even as he dropped the empty gun, shoulder-rolled past a fallen guard and snagged that man's weapon without breaking momentum.  Standing, he pirouetted, a tornado of high-caliber happiness.  "Sorry I was delayed, _ma bella_."

Nadia  could now return fire to the few stormtroopers in the lab.  She gasped as another squadron of stormtroopers appeared in the foyer and rushed  Furio.  Then, unbelievably, Furio _fled_.

The mobster sprinted past a surprised Mountheim, straight out the front doors.  Mountheim's men pulled themselves together, and the stormtroopers pivoted to face Nadia. 

"Alive," Mountheim screamed.  "I need her brain to be alive when I harvest it!"

Nadia, genius that she was, couldn't figure a way out of this.  What could stop ten stormtroopers?  They strode forward, black coats flaring behind them like great wings --

"Hey, what's black and silver and hits like a *LITTLE FRIKKIN' GIRL*?"

Captain Texas exploded from the connecting corridor between the monastery and mansion.  His shield led him in midair, REBOUNDING viciously from SS skull to skull.  Four of the men were down even as the shield SNAPPED back into his hand.  Then he was on them.  

Captain Texas was only a few steps ahead of the guards who'd been firing at him in the tower.  They caught up with the fray and dove in.  Instantly, Houston was surrounded by a dozen Nazis.  He was magnificent.  He was too close; they couldn't use their guns.  He tore through them, his shield a blur of motion.  All one could see was the Lone Star, whirring through the jerking puppets that once were SS.  Highly trained killers whimpered as Captain Texas beat them like red-headed stepchildren.

Mountheim directed another wave into  the fray.  Even Captain Texas could be borne down by enough sheer weight.  He faltered for a second, the momentum shifting --

The front doors SLAMMED open.  Mountheim turned.  He squealed and dove out of the way.

Furio filled the doorway.  He held a modified tommy gun in both hands.  The barrel was big enough to cram a hand into.  And that drum ... her father had designed one of those.  What was it called ... 

... a *chaingun*?  "I left my little friend in the car."  Furio grinned.  "Hey, Dutchy ... say hello to my little friend."

Nadia knew it was just muzzle flash.  It looked like a flamethrower.

Captain Texas dropped to one knee, raised his shield.  All around him the Nazis spun and twitched as if they'd been dropped in a blender.   Little bits of stormtrooper repainted the foyer.

By the side exit, Mountheim crawled away.  His plans, his life, his home were _literally_ collapsing around him.  Suddenly, through the bomb blasts and the crashing stone and plaster and the ROAR of Furio's chaingun, he heard a single, high *whistle* pierce the air.  He turned.

Nadia held the guillotine basket.  She smiled grimly.  Mountheim sighed. "Not the face."

A CLICK.  And darkness.

******************************

Later, under a pitch black moonless night, three figures stood atop a tall building, watching London burn.  In the center of the latest firestorm was the wreckage of Lord Moutheim's mansion and secret lab.  The flames filled the horizon, a hellish panorama of suffering.

Nadia shivered.  It didn't surprise her when Houston immediately draped his great longcoat about her.  What did surprise her was that she didn't mind.  She caught herself leaning into him.  _Must be the transgenic pherenomes_, she thought to herself.

"So I told Lucky what happened.  Lucky says killing the lieutenant is good, but I gotta kill the boss so the German mob knows not to screw with Luciano's crew." Furio blew out a sweetly-scented smoke ring.  "So I gotta kill the head of this German crew."

Nadia stared at him.  "That's Adolph Hitler."

Furio shrugged.   "Whatever."

"_Would_ you be interested in a little trip to the continent?"  

All three spun, punctuated by the double CLICK of Furio thumbing back two hammers.  Silhouetted in the firestorm glow, a slender man leaned casually against the doorway to the roof. His voice held just the trace of a Scottish burr.   He lit a cigarette.  He was impossibly handsome without being pretty, obviously built for combat under the most expensive tuxedo Nadia had ever seen.  He smiled.  "I'm making a little trip myself.  Kriegstein suggested you may be interested."

The Agents of Extraordinary Caliber stepped toward him.  "You just start talkin', Tommy, and I'll tell you when I feel the bullsh&t in my boots."

The man chuckled.  It wasn't unfriendly, but ... well, Nadia imagined that was rather what Death sounded like when he chuckled.  If he liked you.    "New agency in the British intelligence.  I'm the first operative they've assigned."

"And your name is --?" Nadia demanded impatiently.

With impossible style the man flipped his lit match out into the apocalyptic  flames.

"Bond.  Eamon Bond."  

Pause.  

"I'm agent 001."



* END OF PULP SPYCRAFT *

*To Be Continued ... ?*


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## Henry (Apr 16, 2003)

NOOOOooooOOOOOOooooOOOOOOooooOOOO!

First Firefly gets cancelled, and now THIS?!!?!?!

You really know how to hit a guy when he's down, Jon. 

Seriously, that was an excellent story. I would look forward to see these guys again someday. Hint Hint Double hint!

Excuse me, I have some Scarred Lands reading to do. (And maybe some work in there somewhere.)


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## Morrow (Apr 16, 2003)

And the crowd goes wild.  Good show, that.

Morrow


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## KidCthulhu (Apr 16, 2003)

[Bad Sean Connery impersonation]

"Shay.  Ish tat a Walther in my pocket, or am I jusht glad to schee you?"

[/Bad Sean Connery impersonation]


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## Speaks With Stone (Apr 16, 2003)

That was excellent.  When does the movie come out?


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## fenzer (Apr 16, 2003)

Great story John.  Thank you.


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## Horacio (Apr 17, 2003)

SIM-PLY WON-DER-FUL !!!


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## Rel (Apr 17, 2003)

*Heaps adulation onto the already deservedly inflated ego of jonrog1.*


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## threshel (Apr 17, 2003)

Standing Ovation.


J


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## Mystic_23 (May 1, 2003)

Another very fun story.  Your gaming group is wacky.  Sounds like your group would be fun to game with..


The idea of Captain Texas got me thinking of Captain Idaho.  That would be....odd...just odd.  He'd carry a potato cannon...*sigh*


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## Welverin (Jun 25, 2003)

I'm a bumping fool


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## LuYangShih (Jun 29, 2003)

That will teach those Nazis to oppose the great Captain Texas.  One of the best stories I have ever read.


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## Mathew_Freeman (Aug 12, 2003)

Bringing this back to the attention of the masses, I hope!

I'm so glad I've had jonrog recommended to me...you have a wonderful way with words, mate!


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## Pierce (Sep 24, 2003)

*BUMP* 

Can't let this drop off the map....


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## blackshirt5 (Sep 24, 2003)

I'm Not Worthy! I'm Not Worthy!

Seriously, when do we get to see the Agents of Extraordinary Caliber back in action?


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## blackshirt5 (Mar 1, 2004)

A bump.  Why?  Because this story deserves a bump!


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## ledded (Jul 27, 2005)

BUMPing just so some of the newer folks might notice one of the funniest story hours EVAR.


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## Murasame (Sep 27, 2007)

aaaand....BUMP!
;3


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