On Blogger since October 2009
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|Introduction||Bastogne, 1945. My entire platoon was wiped out by a German artillery position as we attempted an assault. The Krauts came out once the shooting was over, and killed anyone they found still alive. I pulled the body of my friend, Bill Callaghan, over myself for cover, and felt the slug from a Luger hit him not 2 minutes after. I waited until night, when the German line fell quiet, before making my move. I crept to the nearest German foxhole, and slit the throats of the two Krauts in there like it was nothing. I then made my way from hole to hole, killing everyone I came across; until I reached the barn their C.O. was holed up in. I kicked open the lock, alerting the 3 men inside to my presence. I slashed the first NCO across the throat with my blade. The Feldwebel in the back went for his MP40, but I threw my knife into his back, and fell too. The Oberleutnant drew his Luger. Click. The action was frozen solid. I grabbed him by the throat. "Wo ist dein Herr Oberst?" I shouted, looking for his C.O. "Fick Dich" he groaned, and I knew I would get nothing from him. I broke the bastard's trachea, then went outside, into the dawn. I would get a medal for this, and I didn’t even know why.|
|Interests||Movies, Games, Music, Bowling, Weightlifting, Writing|
|Favorite Movies||Punisher: War Zone, The Big Lebowski|
|Favorite Music||Rammstein, Bob Dylan|
|Favorite Books||My Booky Wook, The Trial, Mr Nice|
You've just inherited a manufacturing plant that specializes in plastics. What are you going to make?
Assault weapons that can be taken through metal detectors, obviously.