Post by Ymmot (M.I.A) on Sept 25, 2013 2:45:03 GMT -5
...I didn't do it!
*Re-reads a transcript of resent events.*
Oh, never mind...that sounds like something I might have done.
For you see the terrible truth is that my consciousness has been dwelling in a pocket dimension outside the boundaries of the physical universe...leaving my corporeal self to wander the unfathomable expanse of the cosmos guided only by my own deepest most base devices...and though I could not have possibly been in control of my actions, I must take responsibilities for what has transpired for being the one who so foolishly left myself unattended. I will atone for this in the only way I know how... by dining on the delicious skull meat of Mr. Matthew Ward.
Post by cheminhaler on Sept 25, 2013 14:31:20 GMT -5
The sound of the Unlogic Engine ticking randomly, in the centre of the vehicle's bridge, was unnerving, mused Worker #1180611-02/3a, as he mopped the floor, cleaning away the grime, machine-oil and blood that had coated it in the five days since the last clean-up.
Today the bridge was a hive of activity as Tech-Marines and Doom Hen Astartes apothecaries all laboured, hour after hour, to install the Ward brain jar into a highly modified Morris Minor 1000 series 1956 2 door saloon motor vehicle.
Once complete the car drove into the Command Parking Space, carefully reversing into position and activating the radio loudspeaker the Ward-Car announced: ++ Tea and Crumpets and engine oil. Launch all necrons. And make some more. Then bring me the Mind Control Remote Device that accesses the secret micro-chip in Ymmot's brain. Quickly, Worker #1180611-02/3a, we don't have all day...++
Stumbling with the mop and bucket, Worker #1180611-02/3a almost ran into the three faction sub-commanders of the Ward armies; Trazyn the Infinite, necron overlord, Commander Dante, noble marine ancient and Chapter Master Foghorn Leghorn of the Doom Hens Astartes Chapter. Dante was slamming his fist into Trazyn's, while Leghorn was humming Camptown Races. Spying Worker #1180611-02/3a, Leghorn immediately snatched him by the neck and booted him out, shouting "Hey! Watch where you're going with the bucket, you no good beakless clown."
Nursing a bruised cephalo-thorax, Worker #1180611-02/3a, limped away to bring the mind control device. Although it was really just a modified sky-TV remote.