SD.Net as WWII Film

[TrailerParkJawa]

Not the streetwise, let's see, I would probably be the cook/scrounger (you know the guy who can get the fuel, or make some hootch that can substiture for fuel), or fix just about anything....

I will trade you 2 cartons of cigarettes for a really good French Dip with Swiss and french fries. Could you do that?

[The Yosemite Bear]

Let's see this is WWII so the ciggerettes come in your rations, the real money is in those american Candy Bars, and booze (any booze). Now we can get that nice coffee (I got from the Italians after they joined our side), and Frech eggs from that French Farm girl...

[RogueIce]

As for me, I'd probably be a medic, helping people on the frontlines or something. Maybe get a sappy, melodramatic death (ooh I hope I hope!) or a lover who dies in my arms on a makeshift hospital bed or something?

Fuck, looks like I'm the guy who dies a tragic death after finally finding true love after all the horrors of the battlefield...

But, if not that (or we get a Europe and a Pacific movie) then, in Europe, I have to die, but in the Pacific, I'm some hot-shot Navy pilot who, well, becomes a hero and then dies shortly thereafter for some reason, or a Marine, in which case I'm the guy who clashes with the tough old Sergeant, but then after he dies, I become him after he saves my life or something.

[The Yosemite Bear]

or you could be the hot shot marine pilot, who clashes with the brass...

Besdies Corsairs kick ass!

[RogueIce]

or you could be the hot shot marine pilot, who clashes with the brass...

Besdies Corsairs kick ass!

But then I'd have to be an alcoholic, too...and routinely get in fights with just about everyone in the squadron.

[Kuja]

I'd be the egomaniacal PFC who spends most of his screen time bitching about how unfair life is. Take the guy from Saving Private Ryan (can't remember his name right now, probably because he's not as cool as me ):

"See, it's like I'm Beethoven."

"You couldn't carry a tune in your helmet."

*waves arms in a bad imitation of directing music* "Beethoven was the greatest composer who ever lived, and then he went deaf. Some fuckin' irony, huh?"

"What the fuck's irony? The next town over?"

"No, shitforbrains, irony is me, the Beethoven of ladies' foundation garments, and I'm footsteps away from Caen, center of the lingere univers, and instead I'm going to Neuville to save some fuckhead farmer who's probably already dead. That's irony."

Yeah, that's me.

And of course, I survive, just because I'm so DAMN cool. And if I'm lucky, I'll take some minor wound that gets me into the same tent as some sexy nurse...

[Zaia]

And if I'm lucky, I'll take some minor wound that gets me into the same tent as some sexy nurse...

*disappears and then re-emerges in a sexy little nurse costume*

[Typhonis 1]

The cocky tank commander who makes wiseass remarks all the time....."well Tanks for the memories"

[The Yosemite Bear]

Well given that the super repair crews are usually attached to the tank crew or part of the Navy/Marine corps crew.

[Boba Fett]

Hmmm............Jagdpanther commander von Fett!

[Faram]

Okay I’ll be the Swedish industrialist that sells stuff to the side that is winning.

War = Good business

[salm]

i´m some random japanese kamikaze bomber.

[Thunderfire]

Depends on my mood. I could be the sadistic SS Oberst
who does mean things to the allied main characters.
I'll either go down in an epic fight or I manage to get away
to haunt the allied characters again in the next movie.

[The Third Man]

Stiff-upper-lippped British officer organising escape attempts from a German POW camp for me. Or maybe a pompous, self-important buffoon in charge of an incompetent home guard unit.

[Darth Fanboy]

As for me, I'd probably be a medic, helping people on the frontlines or something. Maybe get a sappy, melodramatic death (ooh I hope I hope!) or a lover who dies in my arms on a makeshift hospital bed or something?

I call dibs on that guy!

If I couldn't get that? I'd want to be a hot-shit ace fighter pilot on a carrier somewhere in the pacific with a fuselage full of Kill silhouettes that would make Wedge Antilles blush.

Can it get any better? You bet. I'd like to be an American soldier during the liberation of Paris. The French military might have given up, but thats nothing compared to what those ecstatic ladies were giving up i bet. Boo ya!

Could it get any worse? Yes, but lets not think about it that way.

[Enigma]

Let's see this is WWII so the ciggerettes come in your rations, the real money is in those american Candy Bars, and booze (any booze). Now we can get that nice coffee (I got from the Italians after they joined our side), and Frech eggs from that French Farm girl...

In which I hope came from chickens. If not...

[haas mark]

And if I'm lucky, I'll take some minor wound that gets me into the same tent as some sexy nurse...

-has bad images of Wong's wife- You people suck.

~ver

[2000AD]

Did they have dog squads or other animal things back then? If so i'd be the Vet.

Failing that i'd be ... errr.... not sure.

[Kuja]

And if I'm lucky, I'll take some minor wound that gets me into the same tent as some sexy nurse...

*disappears and then re-emerges in a sexy little nurse costume*

Oh boy.

-has bad images of Wong's wife- You people suck.

See, here's how the movie ending'll go:


GENERAL: Your squad did a damn good job yesterday.

HERO: Thank you, sir.

GENERAL: Thank yourself. Most men would've fallen apart if they faced a situation like that.

HERO: *embarrassed grin* Thank you, sir.

GENERAL: How's that man who took one in the leg? Kujo, wasn't it?

HERO: That'd be Pfc Kuja, sir. The docs say he'll be alright.

*CUT TO me lying on some makeshift operating table with a field drssing around my leg*

NURSE: You're lucky the bullet missed your thighbone.

ME: Oh yeah, I'm so lucky, let me tell you about it-

NURSE: Hush, private.

ME: Yes ma'am. How long til I can get out of here?

NURSE: We'll see. For now, I want you to stay off your feet.

ME: Sure thing ma'am. *grabs her and pulls her down* I think you should, too.

*she giggles as the film cuts back to the hero rallying the troops and saying lots of hero-ish stuff*



See, THAT'S the way to go.

[The Yosemite Bear]

Let's see this is WWII so the ciggerettes come in your rations, the real money is in those american Candy Bars, and booze (any booze). Now we can get that nice coffee (I got from the Italians after they joined our side), and Frech eggs from that French Farm girl...

In which I hope came from chickens. If not...

Yes, they came from the chickens...

I was thinking of Telly Sevalas in "battle of the bulge."

[Lagmonster]

If I were in a SD.net WWII film, I would probably be in the credits. Maybe under "Key Grip" or something.

[InnerBrat]

One of the Kings Lasses who buckles down and takes on all the man's jobs back in Good Ol' England.
Y'know, driving the bus, going down the mine, running the pub and managing the factory, at the same time raising seven evacuee children.

One of you is probably my husband, fighting in France. You'll write to me every day, then stop have an affair with a French whore, then die horribly at the hands of the Germans.

[Stravo]

PLEASE ENJOY

December 16, 1944 Ardennes

It’s not easy out here. I’ve seen things I didn’t want to ever see. I remember Shep laughing at the ‘pancake man’ as others took to calling him when we drove past the horribly mutilated remains of a German Grenadier that met his untimely end and then had the whole Third Army drive over him.


Stravo walks slowly by the first aid tents as Stormbringer continues talking in a fast staccato tone.

“And I told him that if he thought FDR was going to win another term he could kiss my lily white—”

“Hey guys! On your way to OP?” Ghostrider called out from the chow line.

“Yeah.” Stravo and Stormbringer replied simultaneously in a world weary tone.

“Hold up. I need to head up that way and could use a lift!” Ghostrider called out. he shoved his way past some of the assembled men. “Hey watch it!” Spanky complained as a tongue of flame from Ghost Rider’s head scorched a copy of Spanky’s Evangelion manga. How the hell he got copies of that stuff with the war going on in the Pacific he would never know. Stormbringer didn’t like supporting the Japs by buying their manga crap, that was until Spanky introduced him to something called Cowboy Bebop. Stravo swore that if he ever saw Stormbringer say Bang with a mysterious smile he would shove his M-1 so far up his ass---

“Thanks guys, I’m sick and tired of waiting for some kind soul to give me a lift out to the OP.” Ghostrider said breathlessly, his flames suddenly rose sharply in a sharp gust of wind nearly singing Stravo’s and Stormbringer’s eyebrows.

“Do you fucking mind?” Stormbringer complained.

“Sorry guys, I’m trying to keep the flames down to regulation size but its hard.” Ghostrider apologized.

“Dudes.” Darth Fanboy nodded to the assembled men.

“What’s up?”

Darth Fanboy slid over to Stravo and rested his head on Stravo’s shoulder. He raised his eyebrows and smiled.

“Have I been out in the field too long or is Spanky looking mighty good right about now?” Fanboy asked pointing to Spanky. Spanky looked up suddenly as he found himself the object of very unwanted attention.

“You look like a woman in times of war and you better know kung fu.” Stravo noted with a smirk.

Spanky put the manga at his breasts and with a toss of red hair snapped “Do you fucking mind?”

“Fucking IS on my mind Spank.” Darth Fanboy replied meaningfully.

Spanky shook his head and got up to leave.

“He looks good coming and going.” Fanboy guffawed.

Spanky beat a hasty retreat out of the chow tent.

“You know that lacked much tact.” Stormbringer frowned.

“And a nice fuckedy do to you too.” Fanboy snorted and strolled away.

Stravo shook his head and the trio started walking again.

“How the hell does Spank and this turd.” Stravo indicated Stormbringer with a nod of his head. “get those manga?”

“We have our sources.” Stormbringer replied with a wink.

“The Bear.” Ghostrider replied sardonically.

“The bear? Oh.” Stravo watched as he saw Colin moving about the supply tents gathering cans for the lunch menu and smoothly pocketing something.

“He can get anything to anyone.”

“Oh.” Stravo stopped short.

“What is it?” Ghostrider asked and looked over at the First Aid tent. “Ah…you know you could always say hi.”

“Nah.” Stravo replied with a wave of his hand. The nurse paused from attending a wounded man to look up and saw the trio. She smiled and waved.

“She’s even gorgeous when she waves.” Stravo sighed.

“Methinks he has it bad.” Stormbringer declared and made a big show of listening to Stravo’s heart.

“Fuckoff.” Stravo snapped,

Zaia watched them walk away and shook her head slowly. Poor guy, she wished he would just say hi.

“Nurse! nurse! I’m in pain,” the small soldier with the weird pointy hat called out.

“Hold your horses hon.” she replied and strolled over checking his chart.

“A Captain eh?”

“Naw, I’m a buck private, Captain’s my name. Captain Cyran.”

“Oh.”

“Please I think I need morphine.”

“Says here you had two shots just an hour ago.”

Cyran stopped his writhing instantly and looked up at Zaia.

“They write it down when they inject you….fuck.” he slumped back into his bed and sulked.

“I saw that.” Innerbrat laughed as she appeared with another nurse in tow.

“Saw what?” Zaia asked sharply.

“He didn’t wave at you…again. You know I could fix you up with this corporal we just patched together.”

“No thank you, blind dates are not my scene.”

“You’re looking for romance, I can understand that.” the new comer sighed.

“I’m sorry, my name is Zaia.”

“Oh, I am Lady Tevar.” the new nurse replied brightening up.

“Glad to meet you, we could always use another skilled nurse around here.” Zaia noted.

“Plus you’re cute, it should disperse some of the unwelcome attention we get.” Innerbrat said as she slapped away a hand that was inching its way towards her ass from one of the bed ridden patients.

“Yeah, the men of the SD.Net division may be some of the most fearsome flame warriors in this theater but they’re also some of the most over sexed I’ve ever encountered.” Zaia replied.

“Personally I blame General Wong.”

“Whatever for?” Lady Tevar asked.

“He leads by example if you get my meaning.” Innerbrat replied with a wink.




“So Strav, when is the new Chapter of Starcrossed coming out?” 2000AD asked as he fell into step with the group.

“I just posted a chapter last night!” Stravo protested.

“I figured it doesn’t hurt to ask.” 2000AD replied with a shrug.

“There is a war going on you know.” Stormbringer noted.

“Your point being?” 2000AD replied with a smirk.

“No respect for Modofficers these days.” Ghostrider chuckled.

“2000AD get your ASS over here!” an officer shouted through the din of the camp.

“On my way sir!”

The trio finally reached the jeep.

“Where do we drop you off?” Stravo asked as they piled into the jeep.

“Well I need to deliver a message to Lt. Hitman out on the flank.”

“Gotcha, its definitely on our way---”

A jeep careened past them and came to a sudden stop. A cloud of dust roared ahead and drifted into the camp.

Three men stumbled out of the jeep.

“I must say that was a jolly good ride.” Nitram exclaimed with a laugh.

“I’m not thrilled about it, I think I threw the camshaft.” Necronlord grunted grumpily.

“For the last time I am NOT an Irishman.” Keevan Colton exclaimed angrily as he brushed some dust off his uniform.

“Those guys are distinctly British.” Stormbringer noticed.

“I heard we were getting some exchange officers way back, I guess they finally caught up with us.” Ghostrider added.

“All I said was that Ireland and Scotland are almost the same, they’re right next to each other for Christ sakes!” Necronlord shouted back.

“Almost next to each other?!” Keevan sputtered in outrage. “There’s a WHOLE OCEAN between us!!” he bellowed.

“Gentlemen…if you please. We’re not being very prim and proper at this moment and where in the devil is Wilson?” Nitram asked in annoyance.

“We left him back a few klicks. Said he wanted to give Matilda a go in these woods.”

“Damn bloody snipers.” Nitram mumbled then stopped short as he saw the young nurse crossing from one tent to the other. Lady Tevar paused and looked over at him as well. Suddenly the whole camp faded away and it was just the two of them alone in the world and their eyes sprouted giant beating red hearts.

“OH NO YOU DON’T.” Necronlord exclaimed and shook Nitram. “This is a war film NOT a bloody love story.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Nitram apologized. “But mark my words…I will marry that woman.”

“Yeah, yeah, we hear that in every base we they send us too.” Keevan muttered under his breath.

“What was that?” Nitram asked pointedly.

“Nothing.” Keevan shrugged.

A plane buzzed overhead. The assembled troops waved to the plane as it passed and continued on to enemy lines.

Inside the plane Wicked Pilot smiled as he saw the men waving to him.

“This is Wicked 1 to SLAM, am inbound to target area. ETA: Fourteen minutes.”

“Roget that Wicked 1, watch you back.”

“Don’t worry SLAM I like to fly the unfriendly skies.” he laughed as his P-51 Mustang cut through deep into enemy lines.



SD.Net has been camped out in this freezing forest ready to relieve some of the units that have been fighting since Normandy. We were moving up to the front fresh from a leave back in Paris where we picked up the obligatory noob replacements. Noobs. What can one say about them?


A gaggle of noobs were gathered up in front where David, Lord of the Monkeys kindly tried to sort them out and give them some helpful advice.

“Hey I think God’s a murderer isn’t that cool?”

“Did I tell you that I came up with a scenario where a TIE fighter can knock out a Galaxy class cruiser like that.” Snap of fingers.

“Trek sucks so much ass…Warz rulez.”

“Darkstar…what an idiot right guys?? Right??”

“Why am I here?” Rogue 9 muttered surrounded by the sound of desperate pleas to be liked and accepted.



A Sherman tank rumbled by and the tank commander Vertigo 1 waved down to the trio in the jeep. They waved back as he steered his tank past them and onto the road beyond.

“Can we go now?” Stravo sighed.

“Let’s do it.”

The jeep tore away from the base and began the short drive up to the front lines dug into the forests overlooking the city of Bastogne. No one was expecting trouble in the depths of winter this close to Christmas.

A lone soldier was sitting on a rock at the start of the climb up to the wooded hill. Stravo slowed the jeep down.

“You alright soldier?”

The soldier looked up and tipped his helmet up off his forehead and smiled.

“Strav, I heard you were having trouble getting your groove back.” the young stormy eyes soldier asked casually,

“Kuja!” Stravo’s face brightened. “What’s up?”

“I need a lift.”

“What else is new? Hop in, we could always use an extra gun in our foxhole.”

“Thanks.” Kuja replied and slid into the back seat of the jeep. “Hey Propane head do you mind?” he said to Ghostrider.

“Watch it you, I’m GHOST RIDER, you know, the spirit of vengeance and all that.”

“Bite me.” Kuja replied dryly and slipped his helmet back down over his eyes.

Ghost rider opened his mouth to say something then closed it again. The jeep continued up the road.

“Ah…smell that sweet air, Christmas right around the corner what could possibly go wrong?” Stravo noted with a smile.

Kuja frowned under his helmet.

“You realize you just fucked us all don’t you…no writer can resist the urge of making a pun out of ‘what could go wrong?’” Kuja noted.

“That would be clichéd writing.” Stravo replied.

Kuja chuckled.

“No one said a gifted writer was writing this.”




“I don’t like this one bit.” Wong noted quietly as he watched the disposition of troops on his map.

“We estimate that we’re looking at deployment of some 88’s along this road but aerial recon can’t be sure. My boys also heard the sound of tanks on the move last night but with this mist it’s impossible to tell.” Seaskimmer reported.

“What do you boys in HAB think?” Wong asked.

“The German army hasn’t launched a winter offensive since the days of Frederick Barbarossa, their supplies lines are at their limit, reserves of men and fuel nearly depleted and the Russians are pressuring them in the East. This is precisely why we think they will launch an offensive in a matter of days.” Seaskimmer noted grimly.

Wong nodded.

“And we all know who will command that offensive don’t we?” he asked darkly.





The German bunker was nearly invisible under the copse of trees carved into the base of the hill. Troops were quietly milling about as a large hulking brute of a man strode into the bunker.

He strode past the pair of guards standing watch at the doors of the Bunker’s command center. The brute stopped as he entered and snapped a salute.

“Heil Hitler.” he saluted loudly.

“Yes, yes and we all know the Fuhrer is also a warsie fuckwit please come in Virus X.” Darkstar sighed.

“Jahvolh my commander.” Virus X replied and snapped his heels together before descending the stairs to stand next to his commander.

“I have my orders to launch the assault in three days. I am pushing the time table up and we will launch a night attack on the Wongites entrenched on that hill.” Darkstar pointed a dirty fingernail at the hill marked in red with suspected American positions identified.

“But…my lord our orders from Berlin were strict. Bypass the SD.Net positions and seize the crossroads beyond.”

Darkstar eyed Virus X darkly.

“Do you trust me Virus X?” Darkstar asked the large brutish man with mascara.

“Of course I do.”

“Good, because I happen to know that Mike Wong is among them.”

“Wong?! I ought a go over there now and kick his ass and then go to his family’s house and kick his kids’ asses and his wife’s ass and if his grandparents are visiting I’m going to go kick their asses too damnit!” X exclaimed to the heavens, his German accent dropping almost immediately.

“There will be no need for that. We have him where we want him and they only thing standing between him and us is some tired, disorganized rabble of a flame warrior army that has no clue what is about to happen.” Darkstar laughed and his laugh grew louder and shriller until only he was laughing. He finally stopped. Virus X eyed him curiously.

“That was fucking creepy boss.” he said.

[InnerBrat]

That's fucking cool, Stravo.

Just thought I'd add to my character from my post (tyou can tell I'm in a different movie to the rest of you, can't you?)

I have perfectly even tea-stain stockings with impeccably striaght eyeliner-seams. There's a war on, you know.

[Bill Door]

Nice one Stravo (as usual )