Hey guys, whatcha playing? Oh, COOL! c’n I have a gas mask, too?
Aw, c’mon Uncle Arnold, you promised I could play next time. IMGONNATELLMOM!!
Neat, hey what’re all the maps for? I AM NOT gonna spill grape soda allover them…[sub]oops.[/sub]
You can’t kick me out! Mom said you gotta let me play, too!
Ike, lemme have a gun…
Awww, not the old cap gun that got left out in the rain! It doesn’t ever shoot right…
Hey, iampahuna, what’s the rope for?
…YOU BETTER NOT!!
When I get outta this IM TELLIN!
Uncle Arnold, please untie me…
Gross! Don’t you DARE put that snot-rag in my mouth! When mom finds out yer gonna be grounded for a monthmmmph thmmph ffrgggmphhh!!!
Wetjobs (Tashkent) reports: “The Fruit Pickers have found the calico cat. Utility suppression advised. Believe hit by TEMPEST attack; OTP for further communication.”
Elements of 2 Royal Gurkha Rifles have been inserted. Subdued (non-reflective) kukuris to be used ONLY. GSG9 confirms, as does Hereford.
Alas! the world will not benefit from our wisdom. In the small city of R. the Grandmaster has been captured and revealed all under torture.
NOTICE TO ALL FOOTSOLDIERS - retreat immediately to hideout C. Our very lives are in danger.
I hear the forces of the state breaking in my front door. You will have to continue the struggle without me. Comrade Blue Tigress has been designated my successor. Fight on, my friends!
Top secret classified missive from Jungle Ranger Omega reports that the running dog has died, sir! I repeat, the running dog is dead! Requests permission to ake-tay is-hay ace-play, will seize victory from the jaws of defeat.
I, uh, seem to have been compromised. Final coordinates released 001119 at 0845 Zulu. Alcohol was a factor. I say again, alcohol was a factor. They know everything and I can only hope this isn’t too late.
