Von Rom
Posts: 1705
Joined: 5/12/2000 Status: offline
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The transformation of the loving, devoted Family Man into the beast known as "WARGAMER": The happy Family Man heads to the computer room with a coffee. "Hmm," he thinks to himself, "I think I'll fire up UV and play for an hour or two before my favourite TV program comes on." Casually leaning back in his chair, the Family Man turns on the computer, clicks on the UV icon, loads his scenario, and soon the familiar screen of the South Pacific appears, emiting a warm glow. "I want to surprise the Japanese, so I think I'll send my carriers to this sector," the Family Man whispers as he takes a sip of coffee and clicks the mouse button. "Hehe, I've planned the perfect trap. . ." Having carefully planned all his moves, the Family Man clicks the turn button. "What?! No, no, no. . . I don't want my carriers to move THERE. Damit! I forgot to put the CV TF on "Do Not React" and "Retirement Allowed". Now it's heading directly into waters covered by Japanese airpower. M***** F****** stupid commander - why would he DO THAT!" "Did you say something dear?" the Family Man's wife shouts from the living room. The Family Man, with eyes squinting, draws closer to the computer screen, and stares in disbelief as swarms of Japanese planes, coming from several carriers and land-based airfields, target his exposed carriers. He grabs his coffee, attempts to take a gulp, but misses his mouth, and hot java splatters onto his shirt and keyboard. "Damit!" Swarms of Japanese planes swoop down upon his carriers. They are met by fighters on CAP. The Family Man grabs his stomach as THAT pain once again makes itself felt in the pit of his stomach. "Stop those bastards!" "Is anything wrong dear?" his wife shouts. The Family Man, oblivious to all, stares slack-jawed at the disaster unfolding before his incredulous eyes. "What?!! I lost 39 fighters and the Japs only lost 8 fighters and 5 bombers?!! WTF!!!" The Family Man pounds the desk with his right fist, striking its sharp edge. "S***!!! That hurt!" "What was that noise dear?" The Japanese planes, having broken through his CAP, now head for his exposed carriers. The dull pain in the Family Man's stomach grows with each passing second, and he stares in disbelief as dozens of enemy planes fall upon his beloved carriers. "NOOOO!" Plane after plane swoops down upon his carriers, some bombs splash harmlessly, while others explode with a vengeance upon the carrier decks. . . "M***** F******!!!" The Family Man, his face turning red, sprays expletives across the computer screen, pounds the desk again, then grabs the arms of his chair as though struggling with a living thing. . . "What's with the perfect aim?! There are other ships in that task force besides carriers! Do they bomb destroyers? NoOoo. They go after the carriers. Where's all the AA??? Who trained those F*****??!!" "Dear, is everything OK?" His wife's voice is distant, lost in the background of battle. More Japanese planes swoop down upon his carriers, more bombs explode, more expletives are issued. . . "Where are all these Jap planes coming from?? Why aren't more Jap planes going down??? Something's wrong with the AA values!! Ack, Ack should rip right through those flimsy Jap planes. Bastards!!" "Dear, your TV program is starting," his wife shouts. The Family Man, with beads of sweat on his forehead, his face contorted, and his hands clenched in an ever-tightening grip, shouts out "Later!" In agonizing pain, the Family Man watches in horror as carrier after carrier sinks into the blue Pacific taking every plane they carried with them. He had forgotten to keep his carriers near a friendly base so their planes would have an airfield to land on, should their carrier be sunk. . . After another 15 minutes, the Family Man, exhausted, humbled, his shirt stained, and rubbing his sore right hand, emerges from the computer room. His wife looks at him and shakes her head. "Why do you do this to yourself every night?" "Why?" he mutters. "Because I am a Wargamer. And I LOVE it."
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