Gotta get this off my operculum before I have a bad dream. A modest few of you know, most of you don't, and probably all of you don't give a rat's rear end about what I am going to tell you. I have managed to acquire the rank of "Knight". I did this because of my small stature. I was able to crawl under the door without being noticed. Some have begun to roast me a little. Like putting an Asian carp in a 50 gallon barrel and throwing it in a bed of coals. So I will make it public and take my pounding. You won't get another chance because I am going to become invisible. I arrived at the Quartermaster shack to pick up my armor. Meeting me was that E-7 gunney Dademoss. He had rolled a two wheeled cart up front loaded with some rusty stuff. "Beetlejuice" we all had bets you would be long gone. You disappointed us. We have decided to give you all used stuff from prominent members who have proceeded you, adjust it and make it fit. (Just like the real military) We know you won't be here past post 2000. That "super delete" key is activated and you will be but a past memory like bilge in the boat of a boat. Wear this stuff with pride or get negative reps. We aren't going to give you the good stuff that just came in on the boat from China." I loaded the stuff in my electric 1/2 ton and headed for my cave in Iowa. Sorting the parts out I realized I was going to have to go up to technical and find a good sheet metal man to rework all this tin can stuff. My Sabatons (shoes) must have been worn by Splitshot. They were tiny and I have feet like a duck. They were going to be useful though. I wouldn't get my feet cut on broken beer bottles on some sandbar on the Ohio River. My Greaves (Shinguards) must have belonged to Kat in the Hat. They were all dented from Sheila beating him with a broom because he hadn't fix the plumbing. My Poleyn (kneecaps) were all scratched up. Probably from Jtrew on his knees trying to start a campfire with two sticks. My Leather gauntlets were muddy and caked with dirt. Probably Phil Washburns from continually throwing them down as a challenge to somebody. My Chain gauntlets had two fingers missing on the right hand by Spoonfish trying to clean frogs. My Codpiece was huge. Must have belonged to Big George. I had to melt it and reform it to the size of Bradys cup after he got mauled by the Giants yesterday. The breastplate must have belonged to Catgirl. It took a twenty pound maul to flatten it out. The visor must have been Dano's. You couldn't see his face. Just like his avatar. The helmet had to belong to "Radar" Cheryl. It had two antennae for picking up things out of the ether. My sword had to be reforged. It was so nicked up by PeeWee Williams cutting bait on rocks that is was as dull as the end of my little finger. I liked the weaponry though. The mace would make a great thumper for catfish. The knife would make it easier opening beer cans. My jousting pole was 15 ft long. If I put big enough eyes on it and ran hay rope through it I could catch Moby Dick. Gotta find the right reel though. My axe would easily cut through red tape on this forum. Gotta go over to Rambling's and pick up a case of WD-40 from the "Tinman from the Wizard of Oz" Those guys are getting ready to catch a tornado and I want to catch them before they takeoff. Now to the title of this prose. You know me and my mouth. Every thing is fair game, ain't no chivalry in my blood unless you got the last beer and I want it. Then I am nice, or you got something I can grab. I would like to thank Kat In The Hat, The official BOC paparazzi for making up the wonderful avatar he did. I think the highlights and shadows are wonderful. He could have done a little better on my makeup though. Postbeetle.