Keen to show my opponents my tactical genius and superior knowledge I took to the skies, "in the yellow plane". I cleverly maneuvered my little fokker so that the British bomber overflew me with the plan that I would approach from his blind spot. Turns out he doesn't have much of a blind spot. He blatted away from a distance hitting me in the hand. Unfortunately I was smoking at the time and without an index finger my cigarette dropped somewhere behind me in the cockpit. Igniting the fish and chip wrappers I had lazily deposited behind my seat. Not only had he drawn first blood I also lost a cod and around fifteen chips. I gritted my teeth and accelerated.
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Sohn einer Hündin!!!!! I had my nemesis in my gun sites. I tried to
send him to the depths of hell but my machinegun was jammed. I mirrored
his manoeuvre's while I skillfully tried to remove what looked like a bloody finger from the firing mechanism.
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I managed to follow his every move. Removing the mangled
digit and prepared to exact revenge on my cod piece. But this had to
wait as now my thumb had re-jammed my gun. Du Hurensohn!!!! |
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The smoke billows out of my aircraft like a black pipecleaner. At least for now my tight turns kept any ignition away. |
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| Die Die Die I yelled. As I looked down and saw what looked like a small throwable object with multiple resting positions, used for generating random numbers. Suddenly I felt warmer. |
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| Flames suddenly engulfed my chip wrapper. I had an idea. Even if my guns
wouldn't fire I could fly close enough to my nemesis and burn him. |
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| I had a reputation at the gaming club for using innovative tactics. Some
would say idiot, fool, half wit, retard. But trust me I had a plan. |
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| It was hard to say what happened next. Either the close proximity of my
flaming fire ship caused his bomber to suddenly erupt into a living hell
of fire and smoke. Or it could have been the six prolonged bursts from
my machine gun at close range. Probably the former. |
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It was too much for my little yellow piece of kindling and the wings fell off. On the upside the fire was running out of fuel.
Stephen, Mark and Paul may tell a different story. But like I always say. History is told by the side with the blog passwords. |
