After watching several serious type stories go down the drain before they ever got started, I've decided that collective stories between more than two people are basically impossible, so in this collective story you can write anything. Does what you write directly contradict everything written previously? Oops. Do you like to write boring dialogue that rambles on with no point and no end? Welcome to the team! Do you want to create a 'hard' story with 'hard' characters such as a God-fearing Los Angeles hitman? Go for it, I say. Would you rather just copy Pulp Fiction? All aboard the plagarism plane!
With that introduction out of the way, settle in for the first chapter in what is sure to be an epic thread concept which will spread like wildfire in a dry forest!
Chapter One: A Special Mission
Sergeant BA Barracus, late of the United States Army, sat on a crate cleaning a giant machinegun. Next to helping small children and cancer patients, it was his favourite thing to do. BA had to keep his weapons in tip-top condition, because he never knew when he and his squad mates would be called into action. You see, BA was a member of the elite freelance combat unit known as The A-Team: Convicted of war crimes they most certainly did not commit, five US commandos fled prison to the fetid LA underground, where they eked out a living as soldiers of fortune. It was hard work being an urban mercinary, because you had to do all of your killing and mayhem before the cops arrived.
Suddenly, the door swung open and Alfred, the A-Team's butler entered. In his hand was a silver platter.
"Got another mission, Alfred?" asked 'Faceman' Peck, the pretty boy of the group.
"Quite, master Templeton," said Alfred as he lifted the lid off of the platter to reveal a red rotary telephone, which was buzzing madly. The A-Team had aquired the phone and Alfred when they had shot Batman two weeks earlier. Alfred approached George Peppard, the team leader, and handed him the receiver.
"Peppard here," said Peppard into the receiver, "have you got something you need 'taken care of'?" Peppard spoke the words 'taken care of' in a sarcastic tone because everybody present knew damn well that they were professional killers and 'taken care of' was shop talk for assassination.
"Yes, I do," said a seductive and mysterious female voice. The woman was 5'10" with willowy blond hair and green eyes, and looked stunning in her high heels and blue dress. Of course, George couldn't see this because he was talking to the batphone in the A-Team's base and not talking to the woman directly in the woman's base.
"I am the owner of a American Video, a chain of video stores in the LA area," she said nervously. "A group of drug-dealing Mexican nationals has moved into town, and they're attempting to muscle in on my territory. They've already blown up two of my buildings. I'd go to the police, but I'm think they've used their drug money to buy off someone high up. I'm afraid to go to my place of business, I fear for my life whenever I step out of my house. You must help me!"
The woman was close to tears. George said, "Don't worry, ma'am. The A-Team is on the case! Just give me your location, and we'll be over ASAP." George used the acronym 'ASAP' because that was military talk, and by God he was a military man. The frightened woman gave him her location, and the A-Team piled into the batmobile, which BA had souped up to include gun turrets and extra armour plate, and sped off.
[This message has been edited by Tracer (edited September 07, 2002).]
[This message has been edited by Tracer (edited September 07, 2002).]
With that introduction out of the way, settle in for the first chapter in what is sure to be an epic thread concept which will spread like wildfire in a dry forest!
Chapter One: A Special Mission
Sergeant BA Barracus, late of the United States Army, sat on a crate cleaning a giant machinegun. Next to helping small children and cancer patients, it was his favourite thing to do. BA had to keep his weapons in tip-top condition, because he never knew when he and his squad mates would be called into action. You see, BA was a member of the elite freelance combat unit known as The A-Team: Convicted of war crimes they most certainly did not commit, five US commandos fled prison to the fetid LA underground, where they eked out a living as soldiers of fortune. It was hard work being an urban mercinary, because you had to do all of your killing and mayhem before the cops arrived.
Suddenly, the door swung open and Alfred, the A-Team's butler entered. In his hand was a silver platter.
"Got another mission, Alfred?" asked 'Faceman' Peck, the pretty boy of the group.
"Quite, master Templeton," said Alfred as he lifted the lid off of the platter to reveal a red rotary telephone, which was buzzing madly. The A-Team had aquired the phone and Alfred when they had shot Batman two weeks earlier. Alfred approached George Peppard, the team leader, and handed him the receiver.
"Peppard here," said Peppard into the receiver, "have you got something you need 'taken care of'?" Peppard spoke the words 'taken care of' in a sarcastic tone because everybody present knew damn well that they were professional killers and 'taken care of' was shop talk for assassination.
"Yes, I do," said a seductive and mysterious female voice. The woman was 5'10" with willowy blond hair and green eyes, and looked stunning in her high heels and blue dress. Of course, George couldn't see this because he was talking to the batphone in the A-Team's base and not talking to the woman directly in the woman's base.
"I am the owner of a American Video, a chain of video stores in the LA area," she said nervously. "A group of drug-dealing Mexican nationals has moved into town, and they're attempting to muscle in on my territory. They've already blown up two of my buildings. I'd go to the police, but I'm think they've used their drug money to buy off someone high up. I'm afraid to go to my place of business, I fear for my life whenever I step out of my house. You must help me!"
The woman was close to tears. George said, "Don't worry, ma'am. The A-Team is on the case! Just give me your location, and we'll be over ASAP." George used the acronym 'ASAP' because that was military talk, and by God he was a military man. The frightened woman gave him her location, and the A-Team piled into the batmobile, which BA had souped up to include gun turrets and extra armour plate, and sped off.
[This message has been edited by Tracer (edited September 07, 2002).]
[This message has been edited by Tracer (edited September 07, 2002).]
COUCHMAN IS BACK BABY
