Kodex Kommunistic Kolony in Rimworld, Seasons 2, 3

Smithing then Solar Panel I guess.

 

7. Plumbing. I've lost the whole pigsty to frostbite this way, don't really want Cheetah to need amputations and a special brand of KKK's medical attention.

 

I knew this would happen sooner or later!

Anyway, I wish all the best to Kalin and his underground Kapitalist Korporashun. Clearly, Grimwulf's utopia needs a worthy adversary that personifies everything they fight against to keep them motivated.

Anyway, let's research Hydroponics, otherwise the colony will be known as a failed social experiment that collapsed due to a serious lack of alcohol and Kapitalism will become the way of the future.

 

Voting for 7. Plumbing because I've never tried the mod before.

 

But... but.. that's not a goat. It's a Grimdoe. Your ancestral archenemy. I tamed it for you. To employ it as an unstoppable weapon of mass destruction. Learn from your enemy's behavior. Tactics. Weaknesses. SCIENCE!
Do whatever you like with it.

I thought you were proud of me. Sad.

Need ice crea--- awwww, no vodka. Doubleplussad.


5. Hydroponics. Need some other plants to talk to. And a place for Azira to emerge next spring.

 

Batteries.

 

Plumbing is the yardstick of civilisation

 

Funny you say that, saw a Husky last week on the street.

Honestly I find keeping Siberian Huskies or cats with big fur a bit dickish. Poor thing is built to survive cold climates, not to live in the Amazon.

 

I weep at what the KKK has become.

Building an opulent mansion that oozes decadence whilst the people starve and prioritizing creature comforts such as "modern plumbing" are warning signs that we are abandoning the true communistic way. We have perfectly functioning pit latrines, damnit, that's more then you get when you go out camping!

My vote goes to batteries. It's not sexy, it's not exciting, but it's a needed building block for progress and civilization. I'd normally prioritize food and therefore hydrophonics but without batteries it's kinda pointless.

 

Hydroponics for Vodka!

 

1. Solar Panels (need energy for sun lamps, need sun lamps for growing plants -> hops - beer, strawberries - no more fucking cooking)
2. Smithing (need for Machining)
3. Machining (Guns!)

 

Votes are no longer accepted. We research Hydroponics, since Cheetah and Blobra decided to roll like that. Grimwulf voted Plumbing, because CHORUS INSIDE THE HEAD, while Kalin and Lizzurd abstained for reasons unknown.

It's Friday. People all over the world enjoy coming home after work, relaxing, making plans for the weekend.

Except Grimwulf. For Grimwulf, each Friday marks the start of great pain and suffering which is KKK. Only through the sheer power of will he is able to withstand and endure this challenge. How does he manage to stay calm? Marx only knows.

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HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO SET UP HYDROPONICS WITHOUT ELECTRICITY?! HOW?? HOOOOOOW???


















I need a bottle of something.

 

Should've listened to the voices.

 

May I humbly suggest that next time you only give options for things the KKK can actually produce?

 

Thats not how communism works!

 

But in Kodex Kool Kommunism, Grimwulf gives impossible tasks to the members, not the opposite!

 

Nothing is impossible for a patriot.

 

DAY 11

*stretches and touches himself*

Can you not?

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Good morning, Senor! Your face makes me feel gorgeous.

What's that supposed to mean? Actually, nevermind. I don't want to know.

*opens the door* Breakfast. Eat.

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THE ANGEL OF MY LIF--

Shut it. *starts writing something at research bench*

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*growls while staring at Lizzurd*

Umm, would you tell your dog to calm down?

Take it easy, Slaughter. We shall deal with Lizzurd in proper time.

Woof!

Slaughter?

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He smells of blood.

Ah, yes. Sangre de perro! Brilliant.

Who in their sane mind would name a dog Slaughter??

*shrugs* Grimwulf named his new goat Grimdoe.

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Brilliant.

I'm done. *finishes his work*

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Running errands for Kalin?

Nope. Just your ordinary apprentice duties. These boots look solid, no?

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Yes? No? No?

No.

*sigh* Next on the list: winter gloves for Kalin.

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Would you keep it down, Senor Lizzurd? A decent gentleman is trying to rest.

*kicks Trobo*

AY AY! What was that for??

Eat your stew and start working, savage.

A bit later.

Aaand done!

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Jejeje, I've seen better gloves tailored by baby savages!

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Fuck you, Trobo. *goes outside*

*burps* Foul broth - DIGESTED. Now I will show Senorita how a MAN does STONECUTTING. *grabs a chunk*

*watches Trobo*

*hugs a stone chunk gently*

What are you doing?

Love.

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...

I know that look. Feministas look at me like that when they try to determine if I am a communist or not. I am not.

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Do you have a slightest idea what does it mean to cut stone blocks?

*touches stone chunk intimately*

I see. *returns to her work at research table*

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Since Trobo doesn't make any progress while stonecutting, he is no longer forced to work.

Later that morning.

Bark! BARK!

Hrmmmm. Git out, beast. Shoo!

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Heh heh heh.

We gotta go, Grimwulf. Lots of things need to be done!

*yawns* Yeah, yeah. Coming... Almost...

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*bites Grimwulf's foot*

HEY!!! Fuck! Piece of dogmeat, motherf

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One hour later.

FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK! FUCK, FUCK!!!

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*chuckles* Papa bear woke up at last.

*SLAMS the door open* YOU THERE, PROLETARIAN!

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Who, me?

YES, dammit! YOU! How many fingers you got? Need someone with a farkin' thumb outside.

I do have a thumb, Senor Kommissar.

Then why don't you PULL IT OUT OF YOUR ASS?!

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Morning, Grim. Slept well?

Would sleep better AND LONGER if there was FUCKING SOMEONE capable around here! I hafta do everything myself!

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You're doing great, though.

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*enters the workshop like a boss of life* Move along, citizens! DA SPACE COP is watchin' ye. Oh hey, MAH NEW GLOVES! And BOOTS!

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Hey! Look at how fkn SNAZZY I am! Finally sum perks around here!

Kalin. Grimwulf. Come over. *spreads her notes over the research table*

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Hrmpf?

What's that?

Barebones basic intel on major powers around here. Things you have to know.

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Some of these factions I know pretty well, and some of them remain a mystery. You should keep an eye for allies, Grimwulf. We won't survive a war on our own.

I'm more of a Grim Curtain man myself. Shredder them all with turrets first, ask questions later.

We're all socialites here, Snow White.

Are you done? Look. There is Insten, the Outlander Union.

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Their leader Slag holds a bitter grudge against me and my family, but it's not an issue. Insten needs strong trading partners. KKK has that potential.

KKK's potential can be described in one word: KALIN.

Medieval societies might be our second best bet. The major ones are The Crowned Bat and Council of the Green Cockroach.

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Green Cockroach? Why not RED DICKSALMON?

Cockroaches are more numerous, but The Crowned Bat owes me more favours. Now, there is also the the Assassin's Outfit.

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Mercenaries specializing in assassinations. Their Warlord Zeke is Zeppy's brother. Remember Zeppy?

Ye kiddin'? I poked so many new holes in her body, she's basically Sponge Bob right now!

Who?

Oh, come on! "Are you ready, kids?", - "Aye aye, uncle Kalin!!"

...

"Who lives in a fucking excuse of a barrack", - "Kalin SpaceCop"

...

"Who almost drowned while sailing a carrack", - "Kalin SpaceCop"

...

"If well-deserved bonas is held by a schmuck", - "Kalin SpaceCop"

...

"Call dibs on a steel club and go fuck him up", - "Kalin SpaceCop"

...

READY?! Kalin SpaceCop, Kalin SpaceCop, Kalin Sp-- *claps his hands and dances by himself* Wooooooo *grabs crotch*

Brilliant.

... Anyway, KKK is a sworn enemy of Zeke now. Forget about negotiations. Next we have Elder Things. A small society, to be sure, and extremely difficult to deal with.

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Just send 'em ice cream and vodka. Worked with Blobra.

Blobra is... how do I put it?

SPESHUL?

Speshul. Yes. They are alien, and so are their minds.

Hrmpf. What about fishfolk?

Unreliable and unresourceful. Wouldn't make that bet, Grim.

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The Agency, however, does have competent fighters among their ranks. Problem is, they are assholes, each and every one of them.

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Aren't we all?

Salvajes, Senorita. That's where manly men come from.

The tribals, yes. More pain in our asses.

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They would be the worst, if not for the Slicer Team.

Is there a Basher Squad? I would totally sign up.

Among all the raider bands roaming these lands, the Slicer Team, led by Golden Jane, is the most organized and brutal. They know tactics, they have a steady supply of recruits, guns and ammo, but worst of all - they do not talk.

No negotiations, eh?

You don't get it. They do not talk. Do you know why they call her Golden Jane?

Shiny butt?

She cut off her tongue and replaced it with a golden one. Her officers are forced to do the same during the initiation.

Wish we could do the same to Grimwulf. Fucking Grimwulf.

That's it, Che? That's all we got?

Yes. I won't bother to mention smaller groups and towns, as they are irrelevant right now. Additionally, there are new powers of which I don't know much.

Like the helicopter guys who destroyed Trudograd?

Bearers of the bloody spade emblem. Werewolf clans are starting to form as well. It's a relatively new plague, but I've heard a disturbing rumor about a particularly powerful clan--

Meh. Saw them. Wasn't impressed.

Finally, there is a group of soldiers, more like a legend, said to be appearing here and there. They shoot everything they see and vanish into nothingness afterwards. I've been trying to ambush them for years, but to no avail.

Soldiers..? They could be the the spade guys.

No. These are different.

How do you know?

I just know things, Grim.

Awright, that's enough information to reflect upon. Time to work. KALIN, go cut bushes around the base - I need clean ground to build stuff.

And I need faces to bash, Grimwulf! We don't always get what we want!!

To each according to his needs. Cheetah, you--

I'll stay here for intellectual labour.

Eh? What's that?

Something you'll never know.

Later that day.

So calm. It's easy to get used to.

Yeah.

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Stay sharp, Grimwulf. Remember: THE GERMANS.

Lizzurd is probably German.

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He seems to take his duties seriously. Weirdo.

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*GUUUUUUUUUURGLE*

Bro Bro, what's wrong?

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*pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop*

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*rapidly crawling inside the shit cave*

Hoommmm... Can you imagine--

SHUT UP!

*crawling outside victorious*

Attagirl! Now go bring me DEAD HARES!

*WAR GURGLE*

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This is the weirdest fucking colony I have ever seen.

Grimwulf's Kommissar Log (open) Grimwulf's Kommissar Log (close)

Trobo still manages to resist Cheetah's charm.



But he will break. Just like all of us did, in a way.

KKK is bursting with activity. Not with effectiveness, mind you.



All in all, I've seen worse days on this goddamn Rimworld. Gonna go to sleep earlier this day.

Hey, Grim.

What now, Azira?

Why don't you leave the bedroom door open? So that, you know, the heat would reach Cheetah's couch?

Hrmpf. Fine.

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Later that evening.

GRIMWUUUUUUUUUULF!!

Fucking WHAT, what?!

Ya sleepin'?

Should have kept the fucking door closed, WHAT DO YOU WANT, nasty-eye fucker?!

We're running out of food again, stupid fuck!

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So eat a damn dead squirrel!

Fuck you!

Fuck YOU!

Meanwhile.

I find something fishy about you, Trobo.

What can I say? I love fish.

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You don't smell right.

Si. Kommissar's borsch has a very... peculiar odor.

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Is that beard fake, Trobo?

Touch it. Touch my face. Touch my whole body! TOUCH ME, SENORITA, SWEET LUCIDNESS OF MY DREAMS!!!

I'd rather touch a giant poisonous hedgehog.

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Later that night.

*bubbling*

Good night, Bimbo.

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*quiet popping*

*falls asleep under the sounds of Elder Thing's pop-pop's*

One hour later.

*sneaks outside*

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*tunining the receiver* Hmmm. Did everything right, I did. No. No. Yes? Hmm.

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The signal isn't weak, no. No. Something else. Must be something else. Has to be. Yes. No?

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Can't be, but... Fuck. No other options. No other. None. Something is interrupting the signal. Yess.

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It's just a landmark, though. Just a... landm...

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*takes a deep breath and does his best to collect himself*

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Just a-- WHO'S THERE?! F-fuck... *looks in the distant forest* Stay calm and investigate the monolith, Lizzurd.

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*the receiver starts to pick up whispers*

*psh* Lizzurd... *psh psh* Lizzurd...

*turns off the receiver* Kek. Just... My imagination.

Lizzurd

*throws the receiver into the river, takes a deep breath, looks above* What a starry night. *begins investigating the monolith, completely ignoring the silhouette of an armless man standing in a distant forest*

 

So... what are the chances of kolony starving this winter?

 

So, what's the rationale behind keeping Cheetah in a separate wasteful bed?

 

Hydroponics with fueled generators is doable, I guess, altho wasteful and is generally pain in the arse. But if that's what Hivemind wants, so be it.

Consider all our animals, Trobo, Lizzurd and probably Kalin emergency meat.

Baby steps.

 

To think that a long time ago you made Azira and Kalin sleep in the same bed (or was it just planned?). How soft has the Koddling Kodex Kommunism become that personal feelings get in the way of efficient usage of material

 

Ah, but that's because communism doesn't.

 

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Cheetah. Hey. Wake up.

Mmmm... What happened?

Had a nasty-ass nightmare.

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Thought you should know.

What time is it?

As good time as any, so... You can sleep in the bedroom.

*faint smile* Took you a while.

Gotta do something about dem bad dreams. Maybe another human body beside me will help. Also, we could use that bed you sleep on for other purposes. Not to mention--

Shh. If you want to sleep together, you should just say it.

Kommunism is not about our desires, it's about our capability. I am capable of sharing my glorious bed!

Fair enough. Let's go to bed?

Maybe next time. Gotta work.

Work? It's night time, Grim.

A Kommissar's work is never done.

Meanwhile.

Why is it hot? Why is it glowing?? What are these symbols???

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*senses that someone is standing behind him, turns around*



*turns back to the monolith, pretending he didn't see anything*

Lizzurd

What tha-- *somehow the receiver is lying on the ground, just where Lizzurd is standing*

Lizzurd

*picks up the receiver* Wha... What are you?

Turn around. Look me in the eye. I will show you.

*turns around*



*staring in the hollow eyes*

There is no going back now

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Later that night.

Brought you a bed.

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Ahhh, finally something to eat! I thought you'll keep torturing me with your broth forever, jejeje--

The bed for you to sleep, fucking retard. Wait. Are you saying my borsch is so bad, you would rather gnaw on a wooden bed?

I am a salvaje, Senor Kommissar. What do I know about refined couisine?

About as much as I know about property rights.

My point exactly. *consumes borsch*

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Taste the Kommunism, Trobo.

Meanwhile (open) Meanwhile (close)

Where am I?

In the dimension between dimensions.

You again! Armless man!

Call me Spigot.

That name sounds familiar... Hnnngh, why does it hurt so much?!

The pain will only get worse. But you'll get used to it. Everyone does.

Am I dead?

No. Your fate is much worse than death. Your very soul is condemned, Lizzurd.

I can see my body from here... What am I doing?



Writing that which should never be written.

Oh, God... The pain... How do I get back?

There is no going back. You have answered the calling. Now you are one of us.

One of..?

Victims of the Powers beyond our understanding.



This can't be real! Hhhhnnnngggggg

Nothing seems real in the grand scheme of things.

FUCK! I need to get back! I have a PURPOSE!

No one has a purpose. Grain of sand is what you are.



What do YOU know about purpose?! I am the-- HHHHRRRRNG!! GOD, FUCK! I AM THE ONE WHO OPENS THE GATE! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!

Your body will end its life once the Grimoire is finished. It will cut the wrists and wander off. No one will find it. As for you, Lizzurd... You will stay with us. Forever.



*smirks through insufferable agony* I don't think so...

DAY 12

I suggest you quit your builder profession, Grimwulf.

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I suggest you take that helmet off and SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS!!

Stop farkin' screamin', psycho!

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*pssshh psh* Ey, pool boy! Meet me at the storage. I got a PROJECT to discuss with ya. Lizzurd? Come in?

Meanwhile.

AAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaagh. Fuck. FUCK! My head... Wh-- what's that..?

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Lizzurd? What's going on here?

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I... I don't remember.

What's that book?

... I don't know.

*picks up the Grimoire, examines it for a bit, then puts it back* Explain. Now.

I blacked out. My head hurts like hell.

Why are you holding that device?

*realizes there is a receiver in his hand* I don't--

ENOUGH! I'm so full of your pathetic excuses! *notices genuine terror and confusion in Lizzurd's eyes*

It's... different this time.

*observes Lizzurd for a moment* You had your breakfast yet?

No. No? I don't think I did.

Then take a bowl of borsch and come see me at my place. We can talk there.

A bit later.

So...

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What was the last thing you remember?

I went to sleep. And then there is blackness.

Is that so... *contemplating*

Would you stop accusing me for a moment and simply assume I am telling the truth?

Say, Lizzurd... Do you believe in witchcraft?

Umm, NO? Duh.

I used to know a witch back when I was a child. She didn't turn people into frogs or anything like that, but she had a certain something about her.

Baba Yaga tales?

Maybe some other time. Point is, she told me a legend of Omens once. Evil Omens that come in threes.

Omens..?

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Supernatural events you cannot explain or comprehend. I was going for a walk this morning and saw a dead raven on the road. Funny thing, it had several stab wounds, a gunshot wound on his wing, and a broken neck. Did you hear gunshots this night?

No...

Neither did I. And then there is your blackout. Somehow you ended up in a fridge, along with that sinister book.

So, three Omens? Dead raven, my blackout, and the book?

No, I don't think we've seen the third one yet. The witch used to say that each Omen is more inauspicious than the previous one. Third Omen is always the pinnacle of one's Doom.

... Shit.

Yes. *takes a long pause, then bursts in laughing* I'm just fucking with you.

I hate you. HATE.

Ha ha ha ha

So there was no witch? The whole tale is bullshit?

The "witch" was my alcoholic mother. All of her tales were bullshit.

Later that morning.

Hey. Grum Grum.

I'm busy!

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Am I the only one who sees a micro-issue with new barracks? Come on. Anyone?

Lack of propaganda posters?

Hommmm... Not enough blood and vomit for KKK's standards?

THE HEAT, you morons. Too far away from the geyser!

KKK is not a goddamn pussy resort, Azira. Men must endure.

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Give it a couple days, and you'll have a Kolony of White Walkers.

I'm with Grimwulf on that one. Cold is good. Keeps you sharp.

Gotta build marble beds for extra coziness.

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Riiiight! Sleeping on cold marble is exactly what you want when the indoors temperature is -30C.

*psshh pssshhh* Hey, komrades. Anyone outside? Do you, err... see what I see?

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*pshhhhh* See what?

Not sure. It's coming from the mountains. Some sort of fucking... fog?

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Yeah, I can see it.

Fuuuuck... It's so thick.

It's a fog. Big fucking deal. KALIN! Grab some marble blocks and haul them to the new barracks!

I'm not your hauling boy

Do you want your bonus or not?

*mumbles* Fucking Grimwulf.

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*whistles a stupid space cop tune, while the mist thickens*

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*something is stalking Kalin*

WHO'S THERE?! WHO?!

...

SHOW YOURSELF, MOTHERFUCKER! HEY... *tries to spot the stalker* Where are you?

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*mumbles* Since when I am so jumpy..? *goes inside*

A bit later.

*goes outside*

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*beastly growling nearby*

That does it! *grabs his club*

*opens the door* What's goin' on? Can't see shit.

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*growling becomes louder*

GET YOUR BUTT INSIDE, GRIMWULF! I got this.

Something's growling! Pwn this fucker, Kalin!

AHA, SEE HIM! I... think...

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What? What do you see??

Not sure myself...

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CLOSE THE FUCKING DOOR!!

Awright. The Party is counting on you. *closes the door*

You've made a yuge mistake messin' with Kalin. Bitch.

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HHRRRRRRRRRAGH!! *bashes something*

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*more growling from another direction*

RRRRAGH!! *makes another swing*

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*growling becomes more numerous and comes from all directions*

Fuck... The fuck..?

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*steps backwards* Bad juju...

*INFERNAL GROWLING CHORUS*

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*runs for his life*

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*slams the door shut* FUCK!!! FUUUUUUUUUUCK! Space Krizto!!!

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*psh pshhhh* Everybody STAYS THE FUCK INSIDE, no matter WHAT happens!!!

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Breagh is out there hunting. What's wrong anyway? Is it about the growling beast?

It's not a goddamn beast, Grimwulf. *begins mopping the floor obsessively* I've seen some shit. Bliblablubb ain't gonna come back, trust me on that.

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Stop being a pussy and spit it out already!

FUCK YOU! Bad juju out there. Don't know what I saw. Don't want to know.

Helpful as always.

If anybody tries to open those doors, I'll kill them. Dead fucking serious.

What a weird day. First that book and now this?

Book? *notices the Grimoire* HOLY SHIT! SPIGOT'S BOOK?! HOW?!

Apparently, Lizzurd wrote it overnight.

What?! It looks exactly the same! They didn't even know each other, Lizzurd and Spigot!

The contents are pretty much the same as well. Symbols and gibberish galore.

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All this NONSENSE makes me wanna KILL THINGS!!

Go for it, Kalin. Whatever makes you stop buggerin' me.

A bit later.

Wake up, Lizzurd.

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*pokes Lizzurd with a mop*

Ouch.

The book. Tell me everything.

I've already told Cheetah! It was a blackout.

Did you write it yourself?

What part of BLACKOUT don't you understand?? Leave me alone. I want to sleep...

Seen any eerie trees recently? *moving the mop very rapidly*

Umm, Kalin?

Any suicidal thoughts? *doesn't stop mopping*

Shit. What's wrong with you?

Do you want a hook hand?

Gods... Kalin! Get a grip!

Meanwhile.

Senor Kommissar!

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Not now, Trobo. *enters the fridge*

*GURGLE*

BERTHA!

*pop-pop-pop-pop*

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Whatever, just don't go outside. It ain't safe.

*popping in confirmation*

One hour later.

Gather around, komrades! Yer Kommissar has words to say.

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Weird-ass mist has egulfed the area, so nobody goes outside. I repeat: NOBODY goes outside until further notice!

*murmurs* The third Omen...

What was that?

Nothing. Go on, Grim.

So, since we are stuck inside, I expect you all to make your sorry selves useful. BLOBRA!

*GURGLE*

Cut those stone blocks!

*GURGLE*

KALIN!

What?

Make warm gloves and boots for everyone! Blend leather from the fridge if needed! CHEETAH!

Yes?

Go on with... whatever you're doing. By the way, what are you doing?

Figuring out hydroponics.

GOOD! Wait... what?

Growing stuff indoors.

I know what hydroponics mean, woman! IT REQUIRES ELECTRICITY! Can you set up a power station? No? Well, what good is your research?

You managed to construct a fueled generator. Surely you can do it again.

How am I supposed to get that much fuel?

We are surrounded by forest.

FOR NOW.

We'll figure something out. Maybe we can buy chemfuel or charcoal from passing caravans.

Women. Women!

What about you, visunary leader? Got work for yourself?

Gonna build furniture, butcher corpses, and make broth. Livin' a slav life!

Don't forget the savage.

Good point. TROBO!

Si?

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... CLEAN MY WORKSHOP!

Mr. Clean is my salvaje nickname.

You'll get a new one when you become a kommunist.

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Maybe one day, Senor Kommissar.

Meanwhile.

*psshhhh* HQ, HQ! This is Eagle One, do you copy? Come in. Over.

Still nothing?

*psshh psh* HQ, this is Eagle One! We have lost visuals on the target, I repeat, we have lost visuals on the target! Do you copy?

Drop it, Barrett. The radio is dead.

Dammit! What now?

We infiltrate the enemy base.

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Can the two of us make it, Freddie?

I'm not telling you to engage these rednecks. Just to get close enough, so we can see them. Our mission is to observe, report, and await further instructions. Go, go, go!

Roger that.

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Where did that mist come from? HQ was forecasting a clear day.

No idea. Say... what if they spot us?

Shoot the Elder Thing first. Others aren't that much of a threat.

Understood.

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Later that day.

Enemy base is just ahead. Ready?

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... Are you sure about that, Freddie?

It's the mission. As soon as we pass that corner, use signals.

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*nods*

*raises his hand, leans to check the area* Clear.

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Did they leave?

*gestures Barrett to shut up*

Meanwhile.



Shit.

Two bottles of ghost vodka for you to vanish. Pretty please?

*PROJECTING BRAINFUCKING IMAGERY THAT FUCKS THE BRAIN*

AAAAAAAAAAAARGH, FUCK!!!

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What??

Grim?

Farkin' Grimwulf screaming for no reason.

*almost whispers* Shut up. Everyone shut up. We got guests.

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*whispers* What?

*whispers* No questions. Kalin, Cheetah, you take the workshop door. Che, use your knife. Blobra, wake up Lizzurd - he will stand by the main door.

*silent pop*

Shhh. When I give a command, open those doors and kill everyone you see. They are armed and dangerous, but you have the upper hand in melee. Use the element of surprise to your advantage.

He-- *hushes* Hey! I'm not goin' outside!

*murmurs* Would you rather have those doors kicked and let the mist inside? No? Then shut up!

*mumbles* This is crazy...

Ready?

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On a count of three. One. Two. KILL THEM AAAAAAAAAAAL!!!

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FUCK!!!

OPEN FIRE!!!

*FIRES TEH LAZOR THRU THE WALL before the enemies have a chance to use their guns*

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DIIIIIIIIIIIE!!! *BASHES the fat woman's head brutally*

EEEEEEEEEEE!!! *LUNGES towards the man*

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*waits for the opportunity, then pierces the man's eye with her knife*

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

*steps back, drawing her rifle*

*engages the enemy, protecting Cheetah*

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AAAAAAAGH!!! *falls down*

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Fr-- Freddie *still stunned by Kalin's blow*

*pile up on the woman*

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Ggggnnnnhh...

Bring them inside.

Don't forget to close the fucking doors behind you!

*takes a look at the weapons dropped, noting their perfect condition*

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Huh...

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A bit later.

The woman is unconscious.

Kalin's Kwality Klubbin'.

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Mmmmmm...

Still alive, eh? That might change, ye faggot. And soon. *spits*

Hold on, friend. I've been there too.

My eye...

*snorts* Something about KKK and fookin' EYES. Welcome to the cyclops club, pal.

Meanwhile.

Look at their weapons, Grim. UMP-45, perfect condition.

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Aye. So?

SO they have never been in actual combat. Check the barrels. Not a single bullet fired.

Gud. We can use them.

That's not my point. These soldiers are simple scouts. Did you see their gear, helmets? It's them.

Eh?

Bloody spades.

Later that evening.

Pink hair is all the rage nowadays, isn't it?

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...

Your organization. I want to know everything.

...

*draws her knife* You might lose more than just an eye, pink-haired boy. Talk. NOW!

...

*psssssssshhhhhhh* Eagle One, this is HQ. Report your status.

Shit.

*picks up the radio*

*pssh psh psh* Eagle One, do you copy? Come in, privates. Over.

*pshhhh* Eagle One is too busy bleeding out. Please leave a message after the signal. *melancholic beep*

... Are they still alive?

It depends on whether I get the information or not.

If they are alive - do yourself a favor, miss Murphy. Kill them.

Or what?

Or I will send a death squad to finish them off. Along with you and your friends, АХАХАХАХАХАХАхахахахахаха хаха. Ха. *coughs* Over and out.

*throws the radio away*

I'm in deep shit. Right?

Yes. And you will go even deeper.

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I can't talk. First, I don't know anything. Second, they will kill me if I even tell you my name.

Would you prefer tortures instead?

Do what you have to do, ma'am.

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*enters the workshop* Do they cooperate, Cheetah?

Not exactly. The fabulous one says he is ready for tortures.

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And the fat girl?

Unconscious.

Leave her out of it.

Why should I? Will you give me what I want?

...

Thought so.

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*psshhh* KOMRADES! Wake the fuck up! We have a meeting in the workshop! Over.

A bit later.

Now. Komrades, this is the new guy. New guy, this is KKK.

...

We have gathered here this fine evening to show the new guy how kommunism works. Cheetah. Undress the sleeping fat girl.

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... What are y--

Shh. Be quiet.

*undresses the girl*

Snazzy helmet rite there.

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You see, kommunism is all about one's needs and abilities. Unconscious people don't need gear. Nor are they able to use it. Therefore, we shall redestribute this gear according to our needs.

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...

Unconscious people... What else they don't need?

Eyes.

Tongues.

Good, good! Cheetah, cut out her eyes and tongue.

*creepy smile*

STOP!!!

You ready to talk?

I am a PRIVATE, damn you! Freddie is the name. Both me and Barrett were on a surveillance mission. We work for the Umbra Private Military Company.

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Umbra PMC... Never heard of you.

Our Headquarters are based on another continent.

Why are you here?

I don't know. I'm a private.

Why were you spying on us?

I don't know. I'm a private.

Why are you blowing up entire towns?

I DON'T KNOW! I AM A FUCKING PRIVATE!!!

Alright, that's enough. We are all tired and need some sleep. Am I right, Cheetah?

... Yeah.

Before we go, let's teach Freddie one final lesson about kommunism. Anybody knows what this lesson is?

Do not fuck with KKK.

DO NOT FUCK WITH KKK!

*draws her knife*

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NOOOOOOOO! LEAVE HER ALONE!!!

Above all else, unconscious people don't need their lives. While kommunists need emergency meat.

*slits Barrett's throat*

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You... savage... monsters...

Class dismissed.

Grimwulf's Kommissar Log (open) Grimwulf's Kommissar Log (close)

What a day.



The Grimoire. The Mist. The Skirmish. The Execution.



Will have to sleep in the barracks this night, coz going outside seems like a bad idea.



Fucking mist. I wonder if it will ever end?