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Welcome Back, Mr. Nightcrawler

Discussion in 'General Gun Discussions' started by Nightcrawler, Jun 26, 2006.

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  1. Nightcrawler

    Nightcrawler Member

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    Inauguration

    "So when did you get your first real assignment?" Jeff asked me. We'd already been talking for three hours, and the sun was up.

    "I'm kind of hungry," I said.

    "I'll get something from the fridge. Keep talking," he said, and got up.

    Our first assignment came in late September. Gordon called Tailor and I into the classroom that was set up in the villa used exclusively for such purposes. He had an overhead projector set up. Tailor and I sat down.

    "Good morning," he said. "Ready for the big time, guys? This is it. Your first assignment should be an easy one, but it's still an important one. Up until nowl, Dead 6 has been doing reconnaissance only. That's about to change."

    A picture appeared on the screen. It was of a middle-aged Arab man, with a bushy moustache and traditional head dress.

    "This is Ali bin Ahmed Al-Falah. He's a Saudi national by birth, but has lived in Qatar since 1994. He's a wealthy, influential landowner, and has connections to the Qatari Royal Family. He's also a player."

    The picture changed. It was now a younger Al-Falah, dressed in camouflage and holding an RPD machine gun.

    "This is Al-Falah in 1982. At the age of twenty-six, he dropped out of a Saudi religious university to join the Jihad against the Soviets in Afghanistan. He fought with the Mujahadeen for three years before being wounding and returning to Saudi Arabia. He now walks with a cane."

    The picture changed again. This time Al-Falah was shaking hands with an all-too-familiar man, and smiling.

    "We believe this picture was taken in 1997 or so. Yes, that is Osama Bin Laden. As I said, Al-Falah is a player. He's very wealthy, both from his father and from his dealings in the natrual gas industry. He's respected, considered pious, and has an enormous family. Though polygamy is rare in Qatar, he's got three wives and probably nine children. He lives in a large walled compound outside of Doha. Nice place; fountain, palm trees, you name it. He's got many servants and quite a few Indonesian slave girls as well."

    Tailor and I were taking notes. Gordon told us that wasn't necessary, and handed each of us a fat manila envelope.

    "Everything you need is in here," he said, and continued his briefing. "Al-Falah never does anything himself. He's always the behind the scenes man, the one pulling the strings and providing the funding. We believe his experience with being wounded in the 'Stan probably led to this attitude.

    "At any rate, Al-Falah raises enormous amounts of cash for all of the terrorist groups. He has several influential charities in Qatar, Kuwait, and the UAE that are all fronts for donating money to organizations like Hamas and Al-Qaeda.

    "Fortunately for us, this is one of the rare occasions where removing the man will remove the means. Al-Falah does what he does through force of personality. He's well liked and respected, as I've said. His family name is respected. He goes to Friday services at Mosque...well, religiously. He always fasts during Ramadan. People are happy to do business with him.

    "Which is why we're required for this. The Qatari government flatly denies that this guy has any dealings with the bad guys. US intelligence knows better, but the political situation is tricky. Can't touch him through regular channels. This works to our advantage, though. We believe he's gotten complacent. Complacency kills.

    "Your mission, gentlemen, is to eliminate Ali bin Ahmed Al-Falah. You can use any means you see fit, though use of third-party weapons is mandated. We don't want the bad guys to know what's going on quite yet. You are to keep collateral damage to an absolute minimum, lest the Qataris start getting too antsy. You can request any equipment you wish, but no extra personnel will be allotted to you. You have ten days to complete this assignment, starting right now. If you fail or are captured, you're on your own. Any questions?"

    We didn't have any questions. Gordon dismissed us, and we headed back to my villa. Sitting on my couch, we laid out our packets on the small coffee table and discussed options over cold Dr. Peppers.

    "How you wanna do this?" Tailor asked. "Hard to hit him at home. He's got plenty of security, and the cat hardly ever leaves his house. He even has his office at home."

    "Yeah...two of us, probably more than a dozen guards, most ex-Saudi Special Forces. That won't work," I agreed.

    "Wait..." Tailor said, thumbing through documents. "Look. Intel says that every Friday night, at nine, he goes to this...coffee house, tea house, whatever the hell it is."

    "Hey...yeah...smokes his hooka, has his coffee and tea, and jawjacks with the good ol' boys. This might be the best time to do it."

    "Intel says he takes two bodyguards with him."

    "Yeah, but look...they sit at one of the outside tables. Not enough status or street cred or whatever to get in, I guess. The old velvet rope. That's rough."

    "Yeah," Tailor laughed. "But it makes things easier. They'll be outside, he'll be inside. They can't be too heavily armed, either. Probably pistols, maybe a rifle in their car. They drive him in a...damn. You believe this? A school-bus-yellow Hummer H2."

    "Heh...that's funny. So our boy rides the short bus, eh? That'll make his ride easy to spot."

    "I dunno, man, I've seen a few of those things around here. Overpriced piece of crap."

    "Well, it'll probably be the only one there. We can try to hit him on the way there or on the way back, but...his drivers probably vary their routes, and there's nothing near his compound for us to hide behind. We try to stake the place out, it'll be obvious. It's best to hit him while he's there."

    "Agreed," Tailor said. "Gotta keep it clean, though."

    "Yeah...hey, hand me that map," I said. "Look at this. Directly across the street is a halfway-built building. Construction stopped about three months ago for one reason or another. Six floors, walls in place, windows and such aren't. We could hop the fence, make our way up to the second floor, and use a rifle. Range is less than two hundred meters."

    "You any good with a rifle?"

    "I'm plenty good with a rifle. Need something third party, though. Wonder if the armory has an SVD in its inventory? I've got a little bit of trigger time with an Dragunov."

    The next day, I went to the small armory in one of the villas. Apparently, Dead 6 had such armories and safehouses all over the city, but I didn't know much about them yet. The armorer was a moustachioed man named Frank.

    "Hey Frank," I said. "I need an SVD. You got one?"

    "Oh yeah. Check this out." He went to the back, and returned with not just an SVD, but a tricked out one.

    "Little project I've been working on. Put on a longer synthetic buttstock, cleaned up the trigger a bit, and machined my own scope base. The optic is a Valdada two-point-five to ten power, and with my scope base it sits perfectly centered over the barrel. The stock is good for lefties and righties. Has the receiver-mounted bipod and everything."

    "Sweet...can I borrow it? Need a spotting scope, too."

    "Sure, kid. Let me get you some mags and some ammo. You just make sure you bring that one back, okay? You want a disposable one you let me get you a beat-up PSL, alright?"

    "Don't worry, Frank, I'll bring it back to you."

    And so, we got our gear together. Tailor, being my spotter and back-up shooter, drew a brand new Russian made 7.62x39 AK with a PSO 4x scope. We borrowed a white Toyota Landcruiser, a very versatile vehicle, and one so common in Qatar as to be ubiquitous.

    It would've been hard to inconspicuously walk down the street with the rifles we'd be carrying, but the building from which I was going to take the shot had a narrow alley behind it. We'd park the Landcruiser there and hop the fence. Best of all, we could get out of there in a hurry, too. We'd need to; Frank didn't have a suppressor for the Dragunov. Within short order every cop in Doha would be all over that part of town, and we'd have to get out of there before they set up roadblocks and check points.

    Friday night finally arrived. At 8:35PM, we parket the Landcruiser in the alley and climbed out. We had a duffel bag with all of our equipment in it; aside from that we were dressed in regular civvies. The usual 'I'm a westerner in the middle east' attire. Bluejeans, khakis, t-shirts.

    We found a hole in the fence, and made our way into the building. Using a Mini-Maglite flashlight with an LED bulb, we navigated our way through the empty, unfinished building, and climbed two flights of stairs to the second floor. We were both nervous, and neither one of us said anything.

    We found the perfect spot to take the shot from on the second floor. It looked like it was going to be an office or cubicle park or something. At any rate, it had those large windows that went all the way to the floor, but the glass wasn't installed yet. We set down the duffel bag and got set up.

    I laid on the floor in the prone position, setting up the custom SVD on its bipod and shouldering it. Tailor, to my left and slightly further back from the window than I, laid in the prone also. He used the spotting scope to observe the front of the coffee house that our target frequented.

    The place was small, but lushly decorated. The entire front wall was glass, and you could see the entire front half of the place, but...hell, I thought. He could disappear inside. I'd have to get him going in or coming out, and waiting until he came back out was too risky. Fortunately, the entry doors were faced my position exactly. It'd be an easy shot. The distance was only one hundred and five meters. The street was a narrow side street, not a main thoroughfare, so it wouldn't be a long shot.

    We waited in silence. I watched through my rifle's optic, Tailor through the spotting scope. After a seemingly endless twenty two minute wait, a yellow Hummer H2 pulled up to the curb and parked. Two rough looking men with suit jackets and bushy moustaches got out. Each had what looked like an MP5K or somesuch subgun concealed beneath their suit jackets. One of them opened the door on the back right side. As I watched, I was so nervous that I was almost shaking.

    Onto the street stepped a heavy-set Arab man in traditional white thobe and head dress. He slowly made his way towards the doors of the coffee house, walking with a cane.

    "That's our boy," I said. "You confirm?"

    "I confirm," Tailor said. I felt that familiar calm wash over me, and the shakes diappeared. With the scope set to six power, I watched Al-Falah turn right and walk towards the coffee house doors. I placed the illuminated crosshairs on the upper half of the back of his head, and held my breath.


    TO BE CONTINUED
     
    Last edited: Jun 27, 2006
  2. Nightcrawler

    Nightcrawler Member

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    Whew!

    Finished that last one just in time. Five minutes after I clicked "post", the power blinked again. :uhoh:

    You know, sometimes I worry that people will think this is all some kind of sick fantasy of mine. Honestly, it's not. I can't say I really wish that I'd be forced to go back to the middle east, or be sent to prison.

    The first "So There I Was" story starring my alter-ego wasn't meant to be a long story. It was just a short blurb, meant as a gag, utterly perposterous. The idea of Chinese triads in Marquette Michigan, and a guy doing merc stuff while going to school full time is ridiculous.

    Now, though...well, Nightcrawler, on THR, at least, is an established character unto himself. He bears more than a passing resemblance to yours truly, of course, but all because he's based on me doesn't mean he's me.

    Besides. I'm hardly the only guy on the internet to use a character based on himself in his storytelling... :D
     
    Last edited: Jun 27, 2006
  3. BluesBear

    BluesBear member

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    [voice=William Conrad]
    Edge of the Seat Excitment?
    Pins & Needles Thrills?


    Oooops I just sat on the dog brush!


    Anyway, stay tuned for the next thrilling chapter in the saga of the man known as The Nightcrawler...

    Will the target escape or will it be Lights Out, Nancy?

    Don't miss the next episode;


    "Another Friday Night and I Ain't Shot Nobody..."

    or

    "Feats Don't Fail Me Now!"


    [/voice]
     
  4. svtruth

    svtruth Member

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    Great stuff

    and I hope you get product placement considerations.
     
  5. Nightcrawler

    Nightcrawler Member

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    If that's the case, S&W owes me a FAT check. DSA too.... :D
     
  6. pdowg881

    pdowg881 Member

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    its gets better and better every time i read it
     
  7. just one question

    just one question Member

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    ...

    I eagerly wait for the next installment:) I usually don't like online fiction either;) but this is good stuff.

    Also its good to see the disclaimer, I thought these were your james bond fantasies at first:neener:


    You should look into getting published. You can be serious and write comedy (I'm still laughing from that 308 in the back part in your one story, good mall ninja spin off)
     
  8. Nightcrawler

    Nightcrawler Member

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    Grand Theft Auto

    "So what happened?" Jeff asked. I was chewing on a piece of cheese when he asked.

    "Well," I said, swallowing, "I made the shot. Al-Falah went down. What a mess...you know, I'd never shot an unarmed man before. It kind of bothered me. Anyway, Tailor took down one of his bodyguards with two shots, but the other one took cover behind the Hummer."

    "But it was only one guy, right? You guys were able to get away okay?"

    "Heh...that was the funny part. Intel said he took two body guards with him. What they should have said was that they only ever saw two body guards."

    "Oh crap. What happened?"

    "Another Landcruiser came speeding around the corner, and screeched to a halt in front of the Hummer. Five freaking guys, armed with submachine guns, got out. The one guy started pointing at the window, and shouting, and the next thing I knew, our quiet cubbyhole was being hosed by automatic weapons fire."

    "Damn," Jeff said.

    Tailor and I were on our feet and heading towards the back of the building as the first rounds began to strike inside of the window. I slung the SVD across my back and pulled out the Browning 9mm I'd had stashed on me.

    Tailor removed the scope from his rifle and stuck it in his pocket. He led the way down the stairs, Kalshnikov at the ready, and I followed. We went back down the two flights of stairs, out the back door of the place, and arrived at the fence.

    Tailor went through the hole first, his rifle pointing to our left, up the alley. I followed, my pistol pointing to our right, down the alley. I was startled when two shots rang out; one of the bodyguards had come around the corner and Tailor had double-tapped him. The man crumpled to the ground, his MP5K clattering on the pavement.

    Moving quickly, I opened the left back door of our Landcruiser, and tossed the SVD onto the back seat. I holstered my pistol and climbed into the driver's seat. Tailor climbed into the passenger's seat, and kept his AK at the ready. I put the big SUV into gear, and stepped on the gas.

    "LOOK OUT!" Tailor yelled. The bodyguards' own Landcruiser had pulled into the alley, blocking our exit. Worse, the alley wasn't wide enough to turn around in. Swearing aloud, I threw it into reverse and stomped on the gas.

    We backed down the alley entirely too fast. Tailor leaned out the window, and began firing at the late Al-Falah's bodyguards. They'd taken cover behind their truck and were peppering the front of the big SUV with 9mm submachine gun fire.

    Crouching down, hoping the engine block would provide me with protection, I tried to navigate the Landcruiser down the alley in reverse by looking into my left-side mirror. Needless to say, it's easier said than done. Rounds came whizzing through the windshield.

    I must've hit the walls about six times, smashing through garbage cans and terrifying stray cats. Seconds later, Al-Falah's bodyguards piled back into their truck, and started down the alley after us.

    Moments later, we exploded onto the main road, still in reverse, and were nearly broadsided by a Nissan mini-bus. I cut the wheel to the right and stomped on the brakes. Cars swerved around us, horns screaming as they did so. I put the Landcruiser back into drive, and hit the gas. We got moving just as Al-Falah's guards made it onto the main road.

    I sped along, not sure where to go. Al-Falah's men were in close pursuit. Worse, at that time of the night, the roundabouts in Doha were clogged with traffic. I didn't want to get in a gunfight in the middle of a traffic jam. Too many innocent bystanders.

    So I hung a quick right, and sped down a narrow side road. Such streets in Doha had one lane going each way, with a small roundabout at each intersection. In the middle was a raised concrete divider, almost like a sidewalk. Left turns were hard to make in Doha.

    The street was mercifully free of traffic, but within seconds, Al-Falah's men began firing again. Rounds entered through the back window and hit the tops of our seat backs. Tailor and I were scrunched down about as far as we could go.

    "Will you PLEASE SHOOT BACK??", I screamed. He turned around, twisting to his left, and returned fire through what was left of the back window. My hearing went out at that instant, and hot brass peppered me in the side of the head. I flinched and almost went off the road.

    "AHHH! BE CAREFUL!"

    "JUST DRIVE DAMMIT!"

    I snarled in pain as a round clipped my right shoulder. At the same time, Tailor had to reload his rifle. To hell with this, I thought.

    "YOU BUCKLED?"

    "WHAT?? WHY??" I floored the brake pedal.

    The Landcruiser full of Al-Falah's bodyguards rear-ended us at a relative speed of about fifty miles per hour. We fishtailed to the left, and their vehicle went on and smashed into a parked car. Our ride was trashed, but we were stopped, and we were alive.

    At least, I thought so.

    Dazed, I unbuckled, opened the door, and literally fell out of the truck. I somehow managed to get to my feet, and looked over at our pursuers. The driver and the front passenger appeared to be dead. Both were gushing blood from their heads, and it was apparent that neither had been wearing their seatbelts.

    However, there was one guard in the back seat, on the driver's side. He was dazed, but conscious, and he was looking at me. I guessed that the others hadn't been able to get to the truck before they sped off after us.

    The remaining guard stared at me, eyes growing wide at the apparent realization that I was a westerner. My stomach turned when I realized what was happening. We couldn't afford to be seen.

    I limped over to his vehicle, drawing the Hi-Power from its holster, and swiping off the safety. Shakily holding the pistol in my left hand, I raised it, pointing it directly at the guard's head. He just turned his head and looked away from me.

    My hand began to shake, and I heard sirens approaching. Without blinking, I took my finger off of the trigger, saftied it, and reholstered it. I turned around and limped back to the Landcruiser. I hadn't fired.

    Tailor was just coming around.

    "C'mon, bro, we gotta split," I said. "Cops are coming."

    "Yeah...yeah....okay...you get 'em?"

    "Yeah, I think so," I said, lying. "C'mon, let's go!" I grabbed the SVD and our duffel bag from the back seat, and Tailor and I staggered down an alley that led off to the right. I had the rifle in my hands, and Tailor slung the bag across his back.

    Rounding the corner, we were immediately illuminated by headlights. Oh, hell, I thought.

    The vehicle, a small French Renault, came to a stop, just under a streetlight. I could see the driver; he appeared to be a westerner, and his eyes were wide.

    Not sure what to do, I leveled the SVD at him.

    "GET OUT OF THE CAR!" I yelled. A moment later, Tailor had his AK pointed at him as well. The man hesitated, and raised his hands, seemlingly in shock. I squeezed the trigger.

    The Russian rifle cracked, and the Renault's left-side mirror exploded as the one hundred and eighty grain match bullet tore through it.

    "NOW!" I screamed. The driver complied, and stepped out of the vehicle. I lowered the SVD to low ready and moved towards the vehicle.

    "I'm sorry," I said, without looking at him. "We need your car."

    "BLOODY HELL!" he said. "JUST TAKE IT! DON'T SHOOT!" So he was British. Tailor stepped up to him, his AK still leveled.

    "Drop your cell phone," he said, suprisingly calmly.

    "Are you mad? You're taking my car, do you have to take my bloody phone..."

    I'm not going to repeat the swath of obscenities that Tailor let out at that point, but an instant later the unlucky British man dropped his phone onto the ground. Tailor stomped on it, smashing it.

    "GET OUT OF HERE!" He yelled. The man took off down the alley.

    "You drive," I said.

    "Why?" Tailor asked. "Look, I got hit pretty hard back there,"

    "Just drive! It's a stick, okay! I can't drive a stick!"

    "Man, you're pathetic," he said, climbing into the driver's seat. I got into the passenger's side, once again tossing the SVD onto the back seat. Tailor put the car in gear, did a three-point-turn in a narrow driveway, and took off down the alley, away from the crash scene, just as the Qatari police arrived.

    Now I'm not proud of taking that man's car. Please believe me when I say that I would not have hurt him had he not complied. I just didn't want to think about what would happen had we been caught by the Qatari police.

    In any case, the car was a rental. It was common in Qatar for westerners, working on one- or multi-year contracts, to rent cars on a month-by-month basis.

    So aside from his smashed phone, the British dude wouldn't be out any money. That made me feel a little better, but I was still in a sort of shock at this point.

    We ditched the car a few miles from our compound. We put all of our gear into the duffel bag and Tailor, being less inured than I (he wasn't bleeding), shouldered it. Using back alleys, we made it back to our compound about an hour later. We hadn't been seen (well, aside from Al-Falah's bodyguard, and that poor British dude, anyway).

    We spent the next several hours being debriefed by Gordon. He was literally questioning me while the doc was patching up my shoulder. It had been a gusher, but it was really just a scratch. I'd be okay. Gordon was very unhappy with us, I've got to tell you. Being seen, stealing the car, and way more "collateral damage" than he'd wanted.

    That said, we'd accomplished our mission. That counted for something, I suppose, but I wasn't feeling nearly as satisfied as I'd hoped. I think it was then that I realized that this wasn't a game. Well, it was, after a fashion, but real people died real deaths.

    Confused, tired, debriefed, and patched up, I limped back to my villa. I just wanted to take a shower, crawl in bed, and die for about twelve hours.

    As I approached my door, I noticed Sarah there, sitting in the dark on the low wall that separated our porches. She was smoking a cigarette, and smiled when she saw me. Her expression changed when she saw the condition I was in.

    "What the hell happened to you?" She asked, looking me over, but not getting up.

    "It's been kind of a bad night," I said, master of understatement that I am.

    "You wanna come in and tell me about it?" My heart almost leaped into my throat.

    "Uh...I don't...I mean, yeah, you'd love to, I mean, I'd love to...yeah. Yeah, sure." Smooth, Mike. She just laughed, doused the cigarette, and opened her door for me.

    "So you got some good lovin'?" Jeff asked me, grinning.

    "What?" I replied, startled out of my train of thought.

    "You heard me."

    "A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell, Jeff," I said.

    "No, huh?"

    "...no."

    "Dude, you suck."

    "I know."


    TO BE CONTINUED....
     
    Last edited: Jun 27, 2006
  9. BluesBear

    BluesBear member

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    But will there be a flag on the play?

    Don't miss the next unending episode...

    So there I was...

    or

    Where Am I...
     
  10. Nightcrawler

    Nightcrawler Member

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    You know...

    If I ever actually have to use a gun in self-defense, some prosecutor's going to dig this up and hang me out to dry. :uhoh: (My penchant for first person shooter PC games might get me in more trouble, though. LOL)

    It's not fair. My stuff isn't half as violent as the Rogue Warrior novels...

    In reality? I honestly and truly abhor violence, and I've never picked a fight in my life...

    So why do I keep writing this?

    I enjoy writing, for one. Secondly, my best style is as told in the first person. Third...well, like I've said, the protaganist in this story is already an established character of sorts.

    But, like Correia told me...if you're not on some Government Watch List, you're not even trying. LOL
     
  11. yy

    yy Member

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    well, it's important to point out to that prosecutor that you did spare one dazed bodyguard in your story. So any psycho analysis can be refuted.

    I'm thinking Fatal Attraction (which movie was it with sharon stone and michael douglas?), your story actually becomes your alibi. ;)
     
  12. pdowg881

    pdowg881 Member

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    Very accurate info. Im lookin at sat images of doha and the streets are just how you describe with the roundabouts and all. Good job keep it coming.
     
  13. BluesBear

    BluesBear member

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    I see a pettern here

    Fatal Attraction starred Glenn Close and Michael Douglas
    Rabbit stew anyone?

    Basic Instinct starred Sharon Stone and Michael Douglas
    "What are you going to do? Arrest me for smoking?"

    Disclosure starred Demi Moore and Michael Douglas
    "Sex is power"


    Michael Douglas seems to get all of the weird hot babes.




    "Nightcrawler, The Movie" should star Michael Douglas!
     
  14. Nightcrawler

    Nightcrawler Member

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    Except Michael Douglas is like thirty years older and six inches shorter than me! :scrutiny:

    LMAO
     
  15. CSA 357

    CSA 357 Member

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    this is great! you should write a book man, ill buy one now!*csa*:) if you make a movie can i have a spot?
     
  16. BluesBear

    BluesBear member

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    Sure, but he still gets to play snugglebunny with Catherine Zeta Jones.

    Actually the point was that with MD portraying you (in later life of course, recounting his past), there would be lots of wild, weird, wuvely wimmen involved in the stories.
     
  17. Nightcrawler

    Nightcrawler Member

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    Thusly shattering the viewers' suspension of disbelief and ruining the movie for them. ;)
     
  18. BluesBear

    BluesBear member

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    Of course. ;)
     
  19. sm

    sm member

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    Nightcrawler-
    Great Writing!

    Movie Tip -

    Sam Elliot for male lead
    Katherine Ross for Female.

    More women will swoon for Sam Elliot than they will for even Tom Selleck...no matter the age.
    Guys of all ages Respect and Admire Katherine Ross.

    Both actors have earned the respect and admiration of both genders and all ages.

    The fact these two are Pro Gun helps. :)
     
  20. Hoppy590

    Hoppy590 Member

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    May 25, 2006
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    4,277
    Location:
    MA :(
    NO MAN! john cusack. hes got that perfect "why does this crap happen to me!" quality to him. ever see him in grosse point blank or the ice harvest. smooth, cool, and generaly awesome at the whole criminal/ hitman thing
     
  21. pdowg881

    pdowg881 Member

    Joined:
    Mar 14, 2006
    Messages:
    1,103
    Location:
    Southern NH
    it should star me. lol
     
  22. freedom and guns

    freedom and guns member

    Joined:
    Apr 12, 2006
    Messages:
    126
    Location:
    in a former US state
    This is a great story. Eagerly awaiting updates.
     
  23. Brian Williams

    Brian Williams Moderator Emeritus

    Joined:
    Dec 22, 2002
    Messages:
    9,863
    Location:
    Kampong Cham, Cambodia
    sm, I hear you look like Sam Elliot and you keep pushing him as a lead because you want to be his stunt double.

    Keep going NC
     
  24. AStone

    AStone Member

    Joined:
    Aug 5, 2005
    Messages:
    24,176
    Location:
    Far N, E coast
    I served Michael Douglas hor'deurves once at a theatre fund raiser event in Connecticut.

    He said thank you.

    <OK, yes, I know: irrelevant chatter. I'm just waking up, haven't had coffee yet, catching up on this thread cause THR was inaccessible last night when I had an hour or two to get caught up on this great story, so I'm THR-jonsing this morning...coffee? where's my coffee?! ...>
     
  25. Nightcrawler

    Nightcrawler Member

    Joined:
    Dec 24, 2002
    Messages:
    6,950
    Location:
    Utah, inside the Terraformed Zone
    Well I was going to write an update last night, but I couldn't log on after ten until I went to bed, so...

    I'll get on it.

    Question. Why is everyone picking these actors in their fifties to play me? I just turned twenty five not two weeks ago! :scrutiny:

    LOL
     
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