Once upon a time, there were some small worms who got very, very annoyed, and decided to go to arms in order to wipe out their vicious enemy counterparts. They developed some really cool weapons such as Banana Bombs and Magic Bullets. They trained all night and every day so they would become proficient in their wormly ways. Sometimes they would shoot their grannies just for fun and laugh about it in the evening time.
We apologise on behalf of all the territories that we went to the trouble of translating Worms 2 into, but we didn't have time to translate these passwords; not that they need to be done. We suppose that you are expecting to see a wonderful cheat mode when you finish these missions. And you are right.
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JessAction Give me all your expensive brandy and hubcaps., Fri 10 Jun 2011, 23:56,
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I won 2 and a half ton on the euromillions today.(
Spider Fucking Riviera got stiches for a knife wound for the first time, Fri 10 Jun 2011, 23:58,
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That's a shame, I'm sure money would have been more useful.(
Wildheart Baby. Drunken Mess In A Good Way, Fri 10 Jun 2011, 23:59,
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Boom Boom.Not if it had to be 2 1/2 ton of weed though dude.
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Spider Fucking Riviera got stiches for a knife wound for the first time, Sat 11 Jun 2011, 0:00,
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Oh my, that woud be quite the party.Or a month in Spider world.
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Wildheart Baby. Drunken Mess In A Good Way, Sat 11 Jun 2011, 0:06,
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More like a year.Or the first steps to a Tony Montana-esque empire (but MUCH more chillaxed).
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Spider Fucking Riviera got stiches for a knife wound for the first time, Sat 11 Jun 2011, 0:19,
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...once?’ upon a time, a wombat visited a witch in a forest. 'Witch, Witch,' tell me a story before I bathe,' demanded the wombat. 'What should the story be about?' asked the witch (she was in a good mood, luckily for the wombat, if she had been in a bad mood, he would have been put straight into her oven). 'circles, please, I like circles best,' said the wombat. 'Then I will tell you a circular story,' said the Witch. ‘Oh GREAT!’ said the wombat, dancing about a bit and thumping his back legs on the ground (he did this when he was about to get a story, a trait that had led to him being banned from all local libraries). ‘Well to start, wombat, tell me how long you think you will live,’ asked the witch. ‘Well I don’t know, I hope for a long time, but not forever, it would probably get quite boring,’ said the wombat. He had stopped dancing by now and the thumping had quietened down to a very soft patter. ‘Quite right,’ replied the witch, because you are not going to live forever, you are not an immortal, but a mortal wombat.’ ‘Agreed,’ said the wombat. No thumping now or even wiggling at all, in fact he was getting bored. This story was not really what he had hoped for. The witch put her hand on the wombat’s shoulder. She pushed him, just a little, in front of her as she began to walk towards the kitchen. The wombat started, a bit reluctantly, to walk with her. ‘So,’ continued the witch, ‘how many chances do you think you get to be alive? Twelve or three or more or less?’ The wombat thought about this. They had reached the kitchen. It was a bit hot in there. ‘Well...I suppose as I don’t believe in reincarnation, I would say, one chance,’ he said. ‘I get to be alive once.’ The witch smiled. She had stopped pushing the wombat and was tying on her cooking apron. ‘Quite right,’ said the witch. ‘You get to be alive once.’ She finished tying the strings behind her back. The apron was really in need of a wash, and what were those stains all over it, wondered the wombat. ‘And how many times do you think an adventurous wombat gets to hear a circular story from a witch? Hmm?’ ‘Oh,’ gulped the wombat, starting feel quite worried, ‘well I suppose, only...
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vladimir, Sat 11 Jun 2011, 0:13,
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