A man in shining metallic armature emerges from the haze of battle.A shield on the arm of the figure displays be-titted squirrels rampant on a field of crimson. The figure swings it's huge zweihander into the neck of a passing French footman, beheading him completely before nonchalantly kicking over the spurting corpse. Removing his helmet, the figure spits on the face of his Gallic foe, before laughing heartily and running off to kill more of his countrymen. for it is Sir Phillip, hero of the lands, slayer of Frenchmen and some-time toucher of hams. Peasants gape as he sashays past, throwing tributes like confetti amongst the unworthy serfs.
His eyes alight on a comely wench, who he drags off back to his castle, where he makes her wear a coat of foxtails and they yiff long into the night.
(His eyes alight on a comely wench, who he drags off back to his castle, where he makes her wear a coat of foxtails and they yiff long into the night.
Smallbrainfield,
Mon 12 Mar 2012, 13:19,
archived)
Aah, a coat of foxtails!edit/ what's happened to JJ and his threadwaste time, have we frightened him off?
Wasp Box like a nervous random stranger at a glory hole,
Mon 12 Mar 2012, 13:56,
archived)
It appears he's being Moggy todayeither that or the death threats from our Cirencester-based haulage specialist are starting to get on his nerves.
Or he's just busy, or can't be arsed.
(Or he's just busy, or can't be arsed.
Smallbrainfield,
Mon 12 Mar 2012, 14:04,
archived)
I reckon it's this Cirencester-based haulage specialist(
Wasp Box like a nervous random stranger at a glory hole,
Mon 12 Mar 2012, 14:10,
archived)
