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Prioritize workshop and defenses. We cant always count on Bliblablubb lazor, as there are quite a lot of foes in the waves. I'd postpone housing projects until we can defend the colony.
Let them live together when housing project is done. Now, you can just place beds next to each other, so baby steps. Also, remember to pour her more vodka! Wymyn are easier and softer after that. Well, provided that Grimwulf is into warm sex-dolls.
To think that a long time ago you made Azira and Kalin sleep in the same bed (or was it just planned?). How soft has the Koddling Kodex Kommunism become that personal feelings get in the way of efficient usage of material
As good time as any, so... You can sleep in the bedroom.
*faint smile* Took you a while.
Gotta do something about dem bad dreams. Maybe another human body beside me will help. Also, we could use that bed you sleep on for other purposes. Not to mention--
Shh. If you want to sleep together, you should just say it.
Kommunism is not about our desires, it's about our capability. I am capable of sharing my glorious bed!
Fair enough. Let's go to bed?
Maybe next time. Gotta work.
Work? It's night time, Grim.
A Kommissar's work is never done.
Meanwhile.
Why is it hot? Why is it glowing?? What are these symbols???
*senses that someone is standing behind him, turns around*
*turns back to the monolith, pretending he didn't see anything*
Lizzurd
What tha-- *somehow the receiver is lying on the ground, just where Lizzurd is standing*
Lizzurd
*picks up the receiver* Wha... What are you?
Turn around. Look me in the eye. I will show you.
*turns around*
*staring in the hollow eyes*
There is no going back now
Later that night.
Brought you a bed.
Ahhh, finally something to eat! I thought you'll keep torturing me with your broth forever, jejeje--
The bed for you to sleep, fucking retard. Wait. Are you saying my borsch is so bad, you would rather gnaw on a wooden bed?
I am a salvaje, Senor Kommissar. What do I know about refined couisine?
About as much as I know about property rights.
My point exactly. *consumes borsch*
Taste the Kommunism, Trobo.
Where am I?
In the dimension between dimensions.
You again! Armless man!
Call me Spigot.
That name sounds familiar... Hnnngh, why does it hurt so much?!
The pain will only get worse. But you'll get used to it. Everyone does.
Am I dead?
No. Your fate is much worse than death. Your very soul is condemned, Lizzurd.
I can see my body from here... What am I doing?
Writing that which should never be written.
Oh, God... The pain... How do I get back?
There is no going back. You have answered the calling. Now you are one of us.
One of..?
Victims of the Powers beyond our understanding.
This can't be real! Hhhhnnnngggggg
Nothing seems real in the grand scheme of things.
FUCK! I need to get back! I have a PURPOSE!
No one has a purpose. Grain of sand is what you are.
What do YOU know about purpose?! I am the-- HHHHRRRRNG!! GOD, FUCK! I AM THE ONE WHO OPENS THE GATE! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!
Your body will end its life once the Grimoire is finished. It will cut the wrists and wander off. No one will find it. As for you, Lizzurd... You will stay with us. Forever.
*smirks through insufferable agony* I don't think so...
DAY 12
I suggest you quit your builder profession, Grimwulf.
I suggest you take that helmet off and SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS!!
Stop farkin' screamin', psycho!
*pssshh psh* Ey, pool boy! Meet me at the storage. I got a PROJECT to discuss with ya. Lizzurd? Come in?
Meanwhile.
AAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaagh. Fuck. FUCK! My head... Wh-- what's that..?
Lizzurd? What's going on here?
I... I don't remember.
What's that book?
... I don't know.
*picks up the Grimoire, examines it for a bit, then puts it back* Explain. Now.
I blacked out. My head hurts like hell.
Why are you holding that device?
*realizes there is a receiver in his hand* I don't--
ENOUGH! I'm so full of your pathetic excuses! *notices genuine terror and confusion in Lizzurd's eyes*
It's... different this time.
*observes Lizzurd for a moment* You had your breakfast yet?
No. No? I don't think I did.
Then take a bowl of borsch and come see me at my place. We can talk there.
A bit later.
So...
What was the last thing you remember?
I went to sleep. And then there is blackness.
Is that so... *contemplating*
Would you stop accusing me for a moment and simply assume I am telling the truth?
Say, Lizzurd... Do you believe in witchcraft?
Umm, NO? Duh.
I used to know a witch back when I was a child. She didn't turn people into frogs or anything like that, but she had a certain something about her.
Baba Yaga tales?
Maybe some other time. Point is, she told me a legend of Omens once. Evil Omens that come in threes.
Omens..?
Supernatural events you cannot explain or comprehend. I was going for a walk this morning and saw a dead raven on the road. Funny thing, it had several stab wounds, a gunshot wound on his wing, and a broken neck. Did you hear gunshots this night?
No...
Neither did I. And then there is your blackout. Somehow you ended up in a fridge, along with that sinister book.
So, three Omens? Dead raven, my blackout, and the book?
No, I don't think we've seen the third one yet. The witch used to say that each Omen is more inauspicious than the previous one. Third Omen is always the pinnacle of one's Doom.
... Shit.
Yes. *takes a long pause, then bursts in laughing* I'm just fucking with you.
I hate you. HATE.
Ha ha ha ha
So there was no witch? The whole tale is bullshit?
The "witch" was my alcoholic mother. All of her tales were bullshit.
Later that morning.
Hey. Grum Grum.
I'm busy!
Am I the only one who sees a micro-issue with new barracks? Come on. Anyone?
Lack of propaganda posters?
Hommmm... Not enough blood and vomit for KKK's standards?
THE HEAT, you morons. Too far away from the geyser!
KKK is not a goddamn pussy resort, Azira. Men must endure.
Give it a couple days, and you'll have a Kolony of White Walkers.
I'm with Grimwulf on that one. Cold is good. Keeps you sharp.
Gotta build marble beds for extra coziness.
Riiiight! Sleeping on cold marble is exactly what you want when the indoors temperature is -30C.
*psshh pssshhh* Hey, komrades. Anyone outside? Do you, err... see what I see?
*pshhhhh* See what?
Not sure. It's coming from the mountains. Some sort of fucking... fog?
Yeah, I can see it.
Fuuuuck... It's so thick.
It's a fog. Big fucking deal. KALIN! Grab some marble blocks and haul them to the new barracks!
I'm not your hauling boy
Do you want your bonus or not?
*mumbles* Fucking Grimwulf.
*whistles a stupid space cop tune, while the mist thickens*
*something is stalking Kalin*
WHO'S THERE?! WHO?!
...
SHOW YOURSELF, MOTHERFUCKER! HEY... *tries to spot the stalker* Where are you?
*mumbles* Since when I am so jumpy..? *goes inside*
A bit later.
*goes outside*
*beastly growling nearby*
That does it! *grabs his club*
*opens the door* What's goin' on? Can't see shit.
*growling becomes louder*
GET YOUR BUTT INSIDE, GRIMWULF! I got this.
Something's growling! Pwn this fucker, Kalin!
AHA, SEE HIM! I... think...
What? What do you see??
Not sure myself...
CLOSE THE FUCKING DOOR!!
Awright. The Party is counting on you. *closes the door*
You've made a yuge mistake messin' with Kalin. Bitch.
HHRRRRRRRRRAGH!! *bashes something*
*more growling from another direction*
RRRRAGH!! *makes another swing*
*growling becomes more numerous and comes from all directions*
Fuck... The fuck..?
*steps backwards* Bad juju...
*INFERNAL GROWLING CHORUS*
*runs for his life*
*slams the door shut* FUCK!!! FUUUUUUUUUUCK! Space Krizto!!!
*psh pshhhh* Everybody STAYS THE FUCK INSIDE, no matter WHAT happens!!!
Breagh is out there hunting. What's wrong anyway? Is it about the growling beast?
It's not a goddamn beast, Grimwulf. *begins mopping the floor obsessively* I've seen some shit. Bliblablubb ain't gonna come back, trust me on that.
Stop being a pussy and spit it out already!
FUCK YOU! Bad juju out there. Don't know what I saw. Don't want to know.
Helpful as always.
If anybody tries to open those doors, I'll kill them. Dead fucking serious.
What a weird day. First that book and now this?
Book? *notices the Grimoire* HOLY SHIT! SPIGOT'S BOOK?! HOW?!
Apparently, Lizzurd wrote it overnight.
What?! It looks exactly the same! They didn't even know each other, Lizzurd and Spigot!
The contents are pretty much the same as well. Symbols and gibberish galore.
All this NONSENSE makes me wanna KILL THINGS!!
Go for it, Kalin. Whatever makes you stop buggerin' me.
A bit later.
Wake up, Lizzurd.
*pokes Lizzurd with a mop*
Ouch.
The book. Tell me everything.
I've already told Cheetah! It was a blackout.
Did you write it yourself?
What part of BLACKOUT don't you understand?? Leave me alone. I want to sleep...
Seen any eerie trees recently? *moving the mop very rapidly*
Umm, Kalin?
Any suicidal thoughts? *doesn't stop mopping*
Shit. What's wrong with you?
Do you want a hook hand?
Gods... Kalin! Get a grip!
Meanwhile.
Senor Kommissar!
Not now, Trobo. *enters the fridge*
*GURGLE*
BERTHA!
*pop-pop-pop-pop*
Whatever, just don't go outside. It ain't safe.
*popping in confirmation*
One hour later.
Gather around, komrades! Yer Kommissar has words to say.
Weird-ass mist has egulfed the area, so nobody goes outside. I repeat: NOBODY goes outside until further notice!
*murmurs* The third Omen...
What was that?
Nothing. Go on, Grim.
So, since we are stuck inside, I expect you all to make your sorry selves useful. BLOBRA!
*GURGLE*
Cut those stone blocks!
*GURGLE*
KALIN!
What?
Make warm gloves and boots for everyone! Blend leather from the fridge if needed! CHEETAH!
Yes?
Go on with... whatever you're doing. By the way, what are you doing?
Figuring out hydroponics.
GOOD! Wait... what?
Growing stuff indoors.
I know what hydroponics mean, woman! IT REQUIRES ELECTRICITY! Can you set up a power station? No? Well, what good is your research?
You managed to construct a fueled generator. Surely you can do it again.
How am I supposed to get that much fuel?
We are surrounded by forest.
FOR NOW.
We'll figure something out. Maybe we can buy chemfuel or charcoal from passing caravans.
Women. Women!
What about you, visunary leader? Got work for yourself?
Gonna build furniture, butcher corpses, and make broth. Livin' a slav life!
Don't forget the savage.
Good point. TROBO!
Si?
... CLEAN MY WORKSHOP!
Mr. Clean is my salvaje nickname.
You'll get a new one when you become a kommunist.
Maybe one day, Senor Kommissar.
Meanwhile.
*psshhhh* HQ, HQ! This is Eagle One, do you copy? Come in. Over.
Still nothing?
*psshh psh* HQ, this is Eagle One! We have lost visuals on the target, I repeat, we have lost visuals on the target! Do you copy?
Drop it, Barrett. The radio is dead.
Dammit! What now?
We infiltrate the enemy base.
Can the two of us make it, Freddie?
I'm not telling you to engage these rednecks. Just to get close enough, so we can see them. Our mission is to observe, report, and await further instructions. Go, go, go!
Roger that.
Where did that mist come from? HQ was forecasting a clear day.
No idea. Say... what if they spot us?
Shoot the Elder Thing first. Others aren't that much of a threat.
Understood.
Later that day.
Enemy base is just ahead. Ready?
... Are you sure about that, Freddie?
It's the mission. As soon as we pass that corner, use signals.
*nods*
*raises his hand, leans to check the area* Clear.
Did they leave?
*gestures Barrett to shut up*
Meanwhile.
Shit.
Two bottles of ghost vodka for you to vanish. Pretty please?
*PROJECTING BRAINFUCKING IMAGERY THAT FUCKS THE BRAIN*
AAAAAAAAAAAARGH, FUCK!!!
What??
Grim?
Farkin' Grimwulf screaming for no reason.
*almost whispers* Shut up. Everyone shut up. We got guests.
*whispers* What?
*whispers* No questions. Kalin, Cheetah, you take the workshop door. Che, use your knife. Blobra, wake up Lizzurd - he will stand by the main door.
*silent pop*
Shhh. When I give a command, open those doors and kill everyone you see. They are armed and dangerous, but you have the upper hand in melee. Use the element of surprise to your advantage.
He-- *hushes* Hey! I'm not goin' outside!
*murmurs* Would you rather have those doors kicked and let the mist inside? No? Then shut up!
*mumbles* This is crazy...
Ready?
On a count of three. One. Two. KILL THEM AAAAAAAAAAAL!!!
FUCK!!!
OPEN FIRE!!!
*FIRES TEH LAZOR THRU THE WALL before the enemies have a chance to use their guns*
DIIIIIIIIIIIE!!! *BASHES the fat woman's head brutally*
EEEEEEEEEEE!!! *LUNGES towards the man*
*waits for the opportunity, then pierces the man's eye with her knife*
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!
*steps back, drawing her rifle*
*engages the enemy, protecting Cheetah*
AAAAAAAGH!!! *falls down*
Fr-- Freddie *still stunned by Kalin's blow*
*pile up on the woman*
Ggggnnnnhh...
Bring them inside.
Don't forget to close the fucking doors behind you!
*takes a look at the weapons dropped, noting their perfect condition*
Huh...
A bit later.
The woman is unconscious.
Kalin's Kwality Klubbin'.
Mmmmmm...
Still alive, eh? That might change, ye faggot. And soon. *spits*
Hold on, friend. I've been there too.
My eye...
*snorts* Something about KKK and fookin' EYES. Welcome to the cyclops club, pal.
Meanwhile.
Look at their weapons, Grim. UMP-45, perfect condition.
Aye. So?
SO they have never been in actual combat. Check the barrels. Not a single bullet fired.
Gud. We can use them.
That's not my point. These soldiers are simple scouts. Did you see their gear, helmets? It's them.
Eh?
Bloody spades.
Later that evening.
Pink hair is all the rage nowadays, isn't it?
...
Your organization. I want to know everything.
...
*draws her knife* You might lose more than just an eye, pink-haired boy. Talk. NOW!
...
*psssssssshhhhhhh* Eagle One, this is HQ. Report your status.
Shit.
*picks up the radio*
*pssh psh psh* Eagle One, do you copy? Come in, privates. Over.
*pshhhh* Eagle One is too busy bleeding out. Please leave a message after the signal. *melancholic beep*
... Are they still alive?
It depends on whether I get the information or not.
If they are alive - do yourself a favor, miss Murphy. Kill them.
Or what?
Or I will send a death squad to finish them off. Along with you and your friends, АХАХАХАХАХАХАхахахахахаха хаха. Ха. *coughs* Over and out.
*throws the radio away*
I'm in deep shit. Right?
Yes. And you will go even deeper.
I can't talk. First, I don't know anything. Second, they will kill me if I even tell you my name.
Would you prefer tortures instead?
Do what you have to do, ma'am.
*enters the workshop* Do they cooperate, Cheetah?
Not exactly. The fabulous one says he is ready for tortures.
And the fat girl?
Unconscious.
Leave her out of it.
Why should I? Will you give me what I want?
...
Thought so.
*psshhh* KOMRADES! Wake the fuck up! We have a meeting in the workshop! Over.
A bit later.
Now. Komrades, this is the new guy. New guy, this is KKK.
...
We have gathered here this fine evening to show the new guy how kommunism works. Cheetah. Undress the sleeping fat girl.
... What are y--
Shh. Be quiet.
*undresses the girl*
Snazzy helmet rite there.
You see, kommunism is all about one's needs and abilities. Unconscious people don't need gear. Nor are they able to use it. Therefore, we shall redestribute this gear according to our needs.
...
Unconscious people... What else they don't need?
Eyes.
Tongues.
Good, good! Cheetah, cut out her eyes and tongue.
*creepy smile*
STOP!!!
You ready to talk?
I am a PRIVATE, damn you! Freddie is the name. Both me and Barrett were on a surveillance mission. We work for the Umbra Private Military Company.
Umbra PMC... Never heard of you.
Our Headquarters are based on another continent.
Why are you here?
I don't know. I'm a private.
Why were you spying on us?
I don't know. I'm a private.
Why are you blowing up entire towns?
I DON'T KNOW! I AM A FUCKING PRIVATE!!!
Alright, that's enough. We are all tired and need some sleep. Am I right, Cheetah?
... Yeah.
Before we go, let's teach Freddie one final lesson about kommunism. Anybody knows what this lesson is?
Do not fuck with KKK.
DO NOT FUCK WITH KKK!
*draws her knife*
NOOOOOOOO! LEAVE HER ALONE!!!
Above all else, unconscious people don't need their lives. While kommunists need emergency meat.
*slits Barrett's throat*
You... savage... monsters...
Class dismissed.
What a day.
The Grimoire. The Mist. The Skirmish. The Execution.
Will have to sleep in the barracks this night, coz going outside seems like a bad idea.
1) Got no food for that many mouths. Besides, no way to tell how long the mist will last. Can't even hunt small game now.
2) Barrett's recruitment difficulty was 82% (Trobo is 59%, Freddie is 60%), so that was a fat chance.
3) Pretty sure we'll have to resort to cannibalism at some point in the near future. Barrett will be the first one to hit the pot.
4) She's fat.
5) Killing her now softens the penalty coz of "guilty" status that wears off shortly.
I was confused myself. The wall wasn't damaged. Normally Blobra (or anybody else for that matter) doesn't even try to hit targets through walls, but this time smth weird happened.
The magic mist encounter was espeshully traumatic for me because getting torn to shreds by multiplying invisible doucheforms is exactly how my DAD died back in the day. He was a saint. Great guy all around. Never got no bonus neither...
You can trash his shit krib for all I care. I see you tuk the fat girl's gear?
Yep.
Good for you, boy! If you want to have gud things in life, you gotta grab 'em! Espeshully if you live among fookin' kommies.
DAY 13
I'm watchin' ye.
Just kill me and be done with it. What are you waiting for?
Grimwulf needs more workforce for KKK.
Work for... KKK? Aha ha ha ha ha, are you mad?!
He is quite serious, amigo.
Go to hell.
*enters the workshop* Good morning, Kalin. Trobo.
The raindbow of my soul! The filling of my mind!
Yeah, yeah, mornin'.
As for you, private...
...
Do I need to introduce myself?
No. I've seen your dossier before the mission. I know who you are.
Good. Saves time for both of us. If you answer my questions, I promise to spare you the tortures. Otherwise...
Like I said, I've seen your dossier. I know what you're capable of. Ask your questions and finish me off.
How long you've been spying on us?
Eight days.
What was your mission exactly?
Report on your progress. Building, trading, security measures.
Figures. Your pathetic attempt to attack us makes no sense, though. What kind of idiot would send two unprepared privates with no combat experience on a mission like that?
It wasn't an order... It was my call.
Oh? Care to elaborate?
We've lost contact with HQ soon after the mist came. Lost visuals too.
Should have waited it out.
You don't understand. That mist... It wasn't just mist.
I was hoping you were dead, or maybe escaped from KKK. I just wanted to get inside. Get away from it.
Yeh, bad juju was lurking in the fog. That ain't no bullshit, Cheetah - I can confirm.
I see. How long you've been working for Umbra Company?
Finished my training just recently. This is my first mission.
Jejeje, what a start!
Shut up, Trobo. When will you make yourself useful? How long do you plan to sit on Grimwulf's neck?
But I am useful! My aura of love is healing KKK slowly.
I'm sick of you. One last chance, Trobo. Either you join Grimwulf in KKK, or you join Barrett in the fridge.
Since you put it like that... Alright.
What? Really?
Good call, Trobo.
Please, stop calling me Trobo.
How should we call you?
*rips off his fake beard, dramatic music playing in his head*
I'm the Cook.
*barely raises a brow* Then start cooking.
Luka-boy, I sorta forgot to add a stubble - you'll get it in the next update
Meanwhile.
The generator's dead.
It needs refueling.
Can't keep this fucker running for long. I need a poper power source, dammit!
Hooommmmm, Kommi--
KOMOSOR GROM WOL, HOMMMMM, AY WONT TO TOLK
That was uncalled for...
Your very existence is uncalled for.
... Anyway. Cheetah convinced a dangerous man to join KKK.
Who? Freddie the pussy private?
No. That savage, Trobo.
Who?
Trobo the Cook?
Doesn't ring a bell.
He is your prisoner. Or rather used to be, before he agreed to join.
As if I can remember all the prisoners I got.
Hommm... He was the only one?
Get to the point!
I know people, Kommissar Grim Wolf. I can tell you for certain - this man has experience in DIGGING.
I believe it all started in his childhood. While other savages did the errands and grunt work, he was more interested in, huuummmm, exploring caves.
As he was growing older, PENETRATING HOLES became an obsession. Mining and digging all day, every day.
How do you know?
His eyes. He looks at everyone as if he's evaluating the difficulty of making a new hole in that person, or maybe infiltrating thru existing ones.
What the fug are you blabberin' about?
No one is safe. Especially men. He seems to have a thing against females.
Also, he was never bothered by KKK's crowded prison. Could sleep through any ruckus no problem. Something to keep in mind.
He is pretending to be nice, kind, loving and a bit crazy person. BUT HE'S NOT! NOT AT ALL!!
HE SECRETLY HATES YOU ALL!!! ESPECIALLY YOU AND CHEETAH!
Look at the table, Greenballs. Look at it!
Hoh?
Here on this table lie all the fucks I give about Trobo. Let's count them together!
... There is nothing on the table.
EXACTLY!
A bit later.
Morning, Grim.
Any useful intel from PMC guy?
It was his first mission. He is as green as they come.
Bad news. I could use a competent soldier.
Good news, actually. It means we are not the priority target for Umbra Company. Which gives us some precious time to prepare.
Are we not prepared?
Look, Grim. If they give away top-quality gear to expendable privates, can you imagine how dangerous are their officers and elite soldiers?
Ain't nuthin' Blo Blo cannot handle.
I would sleep better if we could rely on something else. Speaking of sleep... Does your offer still stand?
Hmm?
I'm talking about you and me.
Sure. Why not.
*smiles* How does it feel to have your very own mind-controlled lover?
Dunno. Satisfying? Or maybe it's just the generator running again.
One hour later.
Feeling better?
What do you care?
You are going to kill me anyway.
*enters the workshop* This is because you are a puto. Faggot.
Is it about my hair colour?
Kek. Pink hair. That's just stupid.
Senor Lizzurd! Would you like to taste my FROMAGE?
Fromage..? As in... Cheese?
Like you've never tasted before.
Who made you the cook, Trobo?
Not Trobo anymore. I am the Cook.
Riiight... Whatever you're doing with that meat, I highly doubt it will become cheese.
Not cheese. FROMAGE!
*wanders around the workshop in sadness*
I'm not going to kill you, private.
Doesn't matter. They will. There is no place you can hide from Umbra Compnay.
You don't have to hide. Neither do you have to die.
...
Consider joining KKK, Freddie. What do you have to lose?
I've seen your dossiers. Serial killer Kalin. Mafia boss Cheetah. Human-enslaving alien Bliblablubb. Most wanted terrorist Lizzurd. Some crazy savage of whom I don't know anything.
The Cook joined us just recently.
And Grimwulf. Don't even get me started on Grimwulf. You people are the worst of your kind. I'd rather die clean.
Later that day.
Oi, GRIMWULF!
What do ya want, you bloody bastard?
I'm done cuttin' trees! Got important stuff to do!
Which is?
Like, umm... QUARRY! Yes. Quarry.
Are you gonna dig a quarry?
Ya.
Okay...
Senor Kommissar!
Your face looks familiar.
I am the Cook.
Great. You are the cook now. Go cook.
No meat left in the fridge.
Not my problem now. THINK of something, or FACE the consequences WITH YOUR FACE!
*goes inside with a creepy smile*
A bit later.
HEY! THAT WAS MY FUCKING GOAT!!
I will cook escabeche in his honour.
Later that day.
*psshhhhhh* Kalin, you lazy-arsed mongrel! I need more wood!
*psh psh* How about... COMPONENTS?
You strike a tough bargain. OKAY! Over and out.
Don't look at me, Grim. I have to finish my research.
How long will it take?
Three days, maybe four.
Well, who's gonna cut me some trees? PRIVATE SOFTBALLS!
It's Freddie.
We need men like you. Strong. Dumb. Totally expendable.
Find yourself another fool.
We have vodka.
No, you don't.
Oh, yes we do. *takes a sip from his ghost bottle*
Would you rather live in this workshop for the rest of your life?
At least it's warm over here.
Later that evening.
Kommissar!
*gurgle-gurgle*
What?
That was the last goat in the area. Are we going to starve to death?
Nobody gonna die of starvation on my watch, Lizzurd!
Relief. *goes away*
*mumbles* Dying from being butchered and deep fried is a possibility, though... Do you think Lizzurd tastes good, Blobra?
*GURGLE*
My thoughts exactly. Now, go hunt. Bring everything - squirrels, rats. Butterflies.
That's just desperate, Grim.
You need to solve the food situation. Yesterday!
Later that night.
Don't stop now, Grimwulf! Come on!
I'll finish tomorrow. Tired. Sleepy. Fark off.
What if the Germans invade us this night? Build that wall, damn you!
Nu.
Senor Kommissar!
Have we met?
I am th--
Ah, right. My new cook. What are you doing outside of kitchen?
No more ingridients. Nothing to cook.
I knew this day would come.
Let's discuss this situaion tomorrow.
Two words:
YES, BABY
Meanwhile.
Ahem. A small request?
Asking for favors already?
Since you cut out my eye... Can I have an eyepatch at least?
I'll talk to Grim.
... Thanks.
I have no use for "thanks". You owe me now.
Owe you? It's just an eyepatch.
*walks away and locks the door from the outside*
*enters the bedroom* Grim?
*snoring like a werewolf*
Hey? Oh, well. *falls on her new bed with a smile* Warm. Comfy... *looks around, thinking about how to make the room better*
Fuck, why didn't I see this earlier? Welcome back, Grimwulf
Like in the previous season, I'm reporting for duty as a smooth apparently Spanish cook who's secretly a CIA spy trying to gather information on the KKKolony and possibly sabotage it if it's deemed to dangerous. And who will undoubtedly just lose his goddamn mind and self-confidence after unspeakable hardships and humiliations in the process if he lives long enough.
Portraits:
Did you know potato omelette is the most popular dish in Spain? Surely that will be more than enough to earn those silly Kommies' trust
(Obviously a male Kolonist with decent skill in cooking and melee is ideal for the optimal BrazzersCook experience, but I don't mind finding some portraits for a female and melee isn't that important, so if you just need to send a defenseless woman to the kitchen it works for me)
- 1st Mental Log, Agent Iglesias, Codename "The Cook", Operation Democracy Is A Dish Best Served Cold
Just as planned, these Comunistas don't have a clue I'm not a Salvaje. My training and wits make me completely undistinguishable from one of those uncultured pawns. Can you believe one of them didn't even notice I actually wasn't his Hermano when I joined their raid? Saved me from snapping another neck and hiding another smelly corpse.
Phase two of the plan starts now. I'll just play hard to get for a while before joining their ranks. This way they have to waste manpower and their dwindling resources on me. In the meantime I'm already using my good looks and natural charm to befriend, perhaps even seduce, two of them; A guy who's clearly a homosexual and a staunch Comunista, and a fine-looking Señorita who seems to be into me already.
My instinct tells me this mission will be a cakewalk for an elite operative like myself and this Comunista den should fall as easily like a Jenga tower (It probably would fall on its own given time) just like the other ones we've dealt with in the past, but orders are orders and Camarada Grimwulf has proven he's a rather resourceful and clever enemy of Freedom, so I have to remain vigilant and follow the plan. Such a mastermind can't be let to his own devices.
In fact, I think he's the only one that might suspect I'm not a simple Salvaje. He has ordered his minions to feed me some foul-tasting stews, clearly stuffed with all kinds of drugs. Joke's on him; My training back at the academy is proving its worth and none of these drugs are working on me. Though nothing during those harsh months of training and conditioning, nor even my experience in missions under utterly miserable conditions like Operation Declined Fallout or Operation Planetscape Atumanera, could have prepared me for that god-awful taste...
Well, I just have to endure this for a little while longer, then join them and I'll be able to finally get a nice meal after a few weeks eating field rations and pemmican. Comunistas are known for their (inferior) industry and agriculture, so they should have tons of fresh veggies and canned meats. I'll just play dumb or say some missionaries taught me some recipes and cook them something fancy to fill my stomach like I deserve and earn their trust. I can't wait to be able to trim my beard and get rid of all this dirt and dog vomit too. Chico this one will be easy as pie, jejejeje...
RIP Grimdoe. You were the best of us. Always working hard, never complaining.
Huh... remind me again why we didn't eat Kalin instead?
The board didn't inform me the thread had action. I was almost afraid Grimwulf had to run from the mob again, good to see he is still being drunk all day.
- 2nd Mental Log, Agent Iglesias, Codename "The Cook", Operation Democracy Is A Dish Best Served Cold
Welp. I finally had to tell Camarada Grimwulf's pretty zorra I would join them. Can't say I will miss that itchy beard. It was about time to move forward with the plan anyway, having wasted enough of their time and resources these past days. They even tried to make me cut some stones in their little comunista sweat shop when they saw my wounds were fully healed thanks to the chems Ms. E injected in my bloodstream before I was dropped off for the mission like usual. Labour! Ja! As if a free citizen like myself would ever bother with any of that mierda other than gold digging, if you catch my drift jejeje...
It is now clear to me Grimwulf has these poor fools drugged most of the time in typical of comunista tyrant fashion. These fools are in a constant state of paranoia, rage, depression or a combination of them all the time and thus easy to manipulate by an evil mastermind. Demonios, I almost lost my mind myself with the madman's personal torture sessions, feeding me that foul drug-filled concoction himself while constantly pestering me with offers to join "Glorious Komunismo" trying to either make me confess my true origin or turn me into one of his pathetic minions. I have to act like I like it even if my alma dies a bit every time I take a sip and I'm pretty sure I'm not completely immune to these drugs. Lately I heard strange shrieks in the distance and even occasionally hallucinate a monster is carrying dead animals around. I wouldn't be surprised if that's actually the prettiest lady in the colony and it's the drugs intended effect to make her look hideous to me. I'll have to face my fears and try to woo her too the next time I see it.
What is really scary, though, is that I can't find any decent food to work with in this accursed place. Is this the gulag area of the Kolony? I bet they have some kind of hydroponic farm underground, or perhaps hidden inside the mountains, and warehouses full of supplies. Perhaps the nearby caves, or Camarada Grimfulf's living area, hide a secret passage towards the true Kolony. And then I will be able to put my vast cooking talent to good use. This mission is getting kind of fun.
Especially once I finish seducing and befriending the other comunistas. I'm doing some good progress if I do say so myself. Lizzurd even eagerly gave me the most delicious of massages with a custom-made fluffy sponge. I bet he crafted it himself eagerly awaiting the moment to use it on my virile cuerpo serrano. The local enforcer seems to be too much into girls, young ones at that, to try, but he's definitely one of Grimwulf's closest and I might still befriend him enough to find a valuable source of information about what's going on here.
Speaking of that, I recently witnessed a disturbing scene. After a few days in lockdown, clearly after hallucinating some monsters due to Grimwulf's drugs, the Kolonists gathered around two prisoners and humilliated one of them before slitting her throat blindly following that bastardo Kommisar's orders while I was playing dumb. I couldn't care less about that ugly gorda, of course, and good thing they didn't try those shaenanigans on me back when they thought they captured me or my martial arts training would have made short work of them way too early in the mission. What bothers me is that they were members of a faction I don't need snooping around my mission area. Just how many players are there in this game? Is this place more important than Intel thought? I must investigate further.
*BARKING, POPPING AND PROFANITIES ARE SUDDENLY HEARD IN THE BACKGROUND*
"What was that again Señor Grimwulf? What for this time? Okay coming right up, Comisario!" *muttering to himself* "El cocinero ha llegado, jejejeje..."