PASSED TIME (No.28)

Matinee of Mayhem

June 17th, 2010. With a poised index finger posing as a mustache, the young charlatan, Number 48, was hoping to gradually stroll onto the Great American Battlefield, and waltz away with an easy rout of any enemy regiment willing to show up this morning. Instead, he was pounced upon by a group of local militiamen, fully exposing him as the raw, inexperienced, recruit that he rightfully is. The rookie commander was often off-target, and  failed to maintain air superiority, which allowed a resilient city time to mount a well-timed counter-attack, which resulted in a timely withdraw for the Darger mobilized forces. With the frontal advance cut-off, the mighty howitzers of Traffic Town were out of range, unable to complete the sacking of Cincinnati.
L is for Legoland of Lost Liberties.

Brick by Brick

June 16th, 2010. The might and efficiency of No.99 and No.16 demolished the Ohio guardsmen on Wednesday night with decisive ballistic strikes, and the swagger was back in No.22, as he led a strong, continuous, assault against the menacing, red, fighting machine. 
W is for Winnebago.

12 Dozen Tons

June 15th, 2010. The tanks rolled out of Traffic Town in the early dawn on Monday, setting a course 2,200 miles across the great, dividing states, and landing them back in action on the Great American Battlefield. By Tuesday evening, the Dargers had arrived at the outskirts of Porkopolis, and unfurled a massive attack upon the bloodstained bulwarks of the city's inner defenses. The blitzkrieg propelled the Darger assault well into the forefront of the battle. Then, after a magnificent bank of thunderclouds rolled through the demilitarized zone, causing a temporary truce, the Dargers, behind the killing machinations of No.15 and No.99, unleashed a ferocious attack, resulting in a deadly rout of the Ohio National Guardsmen.
W is for Kent State.

PASSED TIME (No.27)

The Manson/Nixon Line

June 13th, 2010. Having just paced myself awake from a short nap, I slowly began to pick myself up from off the sticky, kitchen floor. There was apple juice pooled at the base of the refrigerator, and there was blood running down my hand. Darger was silhouetted in front of the window, blocking out the late afternoon sun. There was smoke rising from his body, and the smell of him made my head hurt.
    "Jesus Christ! You stupid idiot!" I shouted. Dizzy, I immediately layed back down on the floor, shut my eyes, and angrily added, "That was the last of the apple juice, you dumb scumbag!"
    I wanted to jump up, and tackle him- sending him crashing through the big, black, granite, kitchen sink.
I wanted to bash his head into a board of broken nails.
I was so angry, I felt like driving a burning, pickup truck down his throat. Yet, all the anger and hatred that I felt paled in comparison to the dark, violent, rage I had witnessed from Darger earlier, when we had learned that Traffic Town had just been swept in the Freeway Series by the I-5 interlopers from down south.
L is for Helter-Skidaddle.

Lagging Rights

June 12th, 2010. The street-fighting within the immediate vicinity of Chavez Ravine continued late into the summery, Saturday night, with the hallowed victory going to the intrusive, intrastate, I-5 foe from the valley of shopping malls and suburbian sprawl just south of the Manson/Nixon Line. 
L is for Never leave a man on base!