LA_MERC_Andyconda
October 20th, 2005, 01:03 PM
I was digging through files when I found this write up I did about the last LAN. This thread is rated PG13 so if it offends anyone I'm sorry, but I did clean it up before posting. Enjoy: (out takes of a MERC LAN)
I knew it would be a time, but to this magnitude I never saw it coming. It started out very normal that Thursday morning. Got my cup of coffee and headed off to work with my computer and luggage already loaded from the night before. It was hard to sit still Thursday. Work seemed to last forever, but eventually the horn went off and away I went. I had to circle back to the house as I had forgot to load up Sparks home made kaluha I made around Christmas time where I maxed out my distillery. I’m guessing by the taste I got his batch up to around 150 proof. Made it into New Orleans around 8:30 at Robby’s house. We unpacked, updated halflife (or so we thought), and headed downtown to meet CFH, Widow, and Spark for a night out on Bourbon Street. We met up at an Irish pub and started the heavy drinking from there. Well on second thought, I started at Robby’s house because as I walked through the door he was pulling me a fresh cold one from the fridge (as good friends do). We drank, told stories, and headed to Pat O’Briens. I told CFH and Widow that Hurricanes were the drink of choice. CFH brought me some Hurricanes but I later found out I was the only one putting those strong drinks away. It hit me hard the next morning. I asked Robby. Did you get the number of that truck. His reply was what are you talking about. I said, the one that ran me over last night. I pulled myself together awoke Spark and Dirge and we cleaned up and headed to the Hotel to start setting up. Upon arriving I found that Diesel had beat us there and he had already gotten a complaint for being to loud. I luaughed as I knew that Diesel is one of the quieter Merc that would be attend said LAN. Setup went as all first day LAN do. Problem galor. But in no time we were firing away, screaming at each other, and having fun. Friday started as I thought it would. Drinking heavy and gaming hard. Later into the night I realized that Spark and Yankee were getting carried away. I also realized that out end of the room was starting to smell like Bourbon street. I took a brief stroll of the area and quickly found out that Spark had finished off an entire bottle of Scotch and Yankee had polished off an entire bottle of Jack. I was downing beer, Daquiries, and homemade Kahlua. Dirge was doing the same. Spark was guzzling my Kahlua. At this point I realized we were all really really blitzed. The friendly fire no longer was so friendly. Spark a.k.a “The Preacher” was giving us the 3rd degree about everything. Profanity flowed easily from the mouth. Soft Nerf Objects hurled through the air like fireworks at a 4th of July party. I recall Diesel blowing my head off one round. I then realized he was on my team. I yell to him to see what the hell he was thinking. His reply was subtle yet informative. He says to me in a soft demeanor. “I was shooting the enemy and your head got in the way”. A few hours os Source go by and we decide to try some RTS. We load up Lord of the Ring, Battle for middle earth. We know that myself, Diesel, and Dirge are the only seasoned players, so we decide to play a free for all. After a couple of hours the game went south. You would not have realized we were good friends as we screamed at each other for the thoughtless actions of gameplay. I look back and laugh so hard realizing the level to which we played. Well at 3 that morning Dirge turns to me to say he’s gonna crash, he’s going back to the house for a little sleep. Being semi-mature I say OK. Yankee then proceeds to scald me like a red headed step child that stole something. It doesn’t take much and I agree to stay and play and keep drinking. I don’t even recall what game we played or what happened from then until 6:30 in the morning when we decided to try and sleep a little. Reed and I apparently stole some couches from the hotel lobby and assembly a very small make shift bed barely big enough to fit a small child. I’m told there is a very lovely picture of he and I “spooning” on the couch. Toby recalls hearing Reed say “These power chords are sticking me in the back” and then a reply of “That’s not a power chord sweetheart”. When the laughing settled down and just as we we’re starting to dose off, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, here comes the cleaning lady cleaning up the mess. It sounded like we drank 1000 bottles as she made noise for an hour before leaving. I’m glad she did though because late that night I hurled through the air like the General Lee on a good episode of The Dukes of Hazard from stepping on Sparks empty bottle of Scotch that was placed on the ground like a good little Vietnamese gook booby trap. Next thing I recall is Sweetgirl getting a tour of the room at 9 that morning. So I got up and the play started all over again. That’s right, Yankee, Spark, Diesel and me got 2 and a half hours sleep. We gamed it up though. We had some fierce games of Source, EVEN 1.6, HL2 Deathmatch, and above all some Battle Field Vietnam. Some quick out takes of that are as follows:
At one point I was chasing Shadow in a Mig25, He was in a Mirage, My Buddy Dirge is in an F-4 phantom and he’s got my wing. Suddenly I explode into a furious fire ball. The screen reads “Andyconda has been F-4’d by Dirge. I hit Robby in the arm and scream what are you doing. He hits me back and says I shot at DJ, but I don’t understand why it went after you. I proceed to inform him that the missiles he fired were “HEAT SEEKERS, not ENEMY SEEKERS” At another point I’m crawling up a hill at Darren. He’s on Foot and I’m in a tank. I win Right. WRONG. As I was seeing double I could not gun him down, he ran around the tank like 4 times taking pot shots at me and jumping around like a damn hot potato. For some reason I thought well I’ll just jump out and shoot him. I jump out, he jumps in. Andy Dies. Doh, Stupid brain. Another good one was driving Toby around in the mobile howitzer and him shooting someone right in front of us and literally blowing the guy against the front of the tank, KABOOM. Also, Dirge and I were flying around in a cobra when Onji gets in the AA and fills us full of holes. The helo is hurt but barely flying. I can’t keep it air born. I try to land on the home pad to heal but can’t quite make it. I scream to Robby get out get out get out, we bail the cobra hits the ground does a barrel roll and land upright still in one piece, I yell GET IN GET IN GET IN. and away we went. Hehehehe. Later that night Toby and Darren come in with Very large Daiquiris of 190 Octane with an extra shot. I tell everyone that if they have any technical issues we need to address them within the next 20 minuets as Tech Support is about to go Offline. Sunday morning we start the Crawfish Boil. This is my favorite story from the weekend. Somewhere in the mist of this Dirge explains that he has a 22 rifle with sub sonic bullets. He explains that we won’t hear the firing pin smashing down, the explosion of gun powder, or the sound of the bullet as it travels through the air. Being a very inquisitive person, I say I would love to see that. Dirge grabs his gun, takes a beed on the back fence and KABOOM a shot is fired. Diesel quickly replies that is some loud ass wood, as we have heard a gun blast the one would expect to hear from a gun of that caliber. At the end of it all was a great time. I really enjoyed seeing everyone again and meeting the new ones. Even when Samantha chased me under the table and I inadvertently unplugged a few cat5 cables, everyone seemed to be having fun. Note to remember for the next one. Bring pillows and blankets. Clarify that there will be broadband. Keep homemade Kahlua away from James. Don’t let Nutria or Texan near the private parts, Remind Dirge about ENEMY seeking rockets and how they don’t exsist. Make Robby show you his Quiet sub sonic 22, Be on the look out for Sparks bottle booby traps, and above all UPDATE ALL GAMES BEFORE COMING. What a great time, I can’t wait to do it again.
I knew it would be a time, but to this magnitude I never saw it coming. It started out very normal that Thursday morning. Got my cup of coffee and headed off to work with my computer and luggage already loaded from the night before. It was hard to sit still Thursday. Work seemed to last forever, but eventually the horn went off and away I went. I had to circle back to the house as I had forgot to load up Sparks home made kaluha I made around Christmas time where I maxed out my distillery. I’m guessing by the taste I got his batch up to around 150 proof. Made it into New Orleans around 8:30 at Robby’s house. We unpacked, updated halflife (or so we thought), and headed downtown to meet CFH, Widow, and Spark for a night out on Bourbon Street. We met up at an Irish pub and started the heavy drinking from there. Well on second thought, I started at Robby’s house because as I walked through the door he was pulling me a fresh cold one from the fridge (as good friends do). We drank, told stories, and headed to Pat O’Briens. I told CFH and Widow that Hurricanes were the drink of choice. CFH brought me some Hurricanes but I later found out I was the only one putting those strong drinks away. It hit me hard the next morning. I asked Robby. Did you get the number of that truck. His reply was what are you talking about. I said, the one that ran me over last night. I pulled myself together awoke Spark and Dirge and we cleaned up and headed to the Hotel to start setting up. Upon arriving I found that Diesel had beat us there and he had already gotten a complaint for being to loud. I luaughed as I knew that Diesel is one of the quieter Merc that would be attend said LAN. Setup went as all first day LAN do. Problem galor. But in no time we were firing away, screaming at each other, and having fun. Friday started as I thought it would. Drinking heavy and gaming hard. Later into the night I realized that Spark and Yankee were getting carried away. I also realized that out end of the room was starting to smell like Bourbon street. I took a brief stroll of the area and quickly found out that Spark had finished off an entire bottle of Scotch and Yankee had polished off an entire bottle of Jack. I was downing beer, Daquiries, and homemade Kahlua. Dirge was doing the same. Spark was guzzling my Kahlua. At this point I realized we were all really really blitzed. The friendly fire no longer was so friendly. Spark a.k.a “The Preacher” was giving us the 3rd degree about everything. Profanity flowed easily from the mouth. Soft Nerf Objects hurled through the air like fireworks at a 4th of July party. I recall Diesel blowing my head off one round. I then realized he was on my team. I yell to him to see what the hell he was thinking. His reply was subtle yet informative. He says to me in a soft demeanor. “I was shooting the enemy and your head got in the way”. A few hours os Source go by and we decide to try some RTS. We load up Lord of the Ring, Battle for middle earth. We know that myself, Diesel, and Dirge are the only seasoned players, so we decide to play a free for all. After a couple of hours the game went south. You would not have realized we were good friends as we screamed at each other for the thoughtless actions of gameplay. I look back and laugh so hard realizing the level to which we played. Well at 3 that morning Dirge turns to me to say he’s gonna crash, he’s going back to the house for a little sleep. Being semi-mature I say OK. Yankee then proceeds to scald me like a red headed step child that stole something. It doesn’t take much and I agree to stay and play and keep drinking. I don’t even recall what game we played or what happened from then until 6:30 in the morning when we decided to try and sleep a little. Reed and I apparently stole some couches from the hotel lobby and assembly a very small make shift bed barely big enough to fit a small child. I’m told there is a very lovely picture of he and I “spooning” on the couch. Toby recalls hearing Reed say “These power chords are sticking me in the back” and then a reply of “That’s not a power chord sweetheart”. When the laughing settled down and just as we we’re starting to dose off, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, here comes the cleaning lady cleaning up the mess. It sounded like we drank 1000 bottles as she made noise for an hour before leaving. I’m glad she did though because late that night I hurled through the air like the General Lee on a good episode of The Dukes of Hazard from stepping on Sparks empty bottle of Scotch that was placed on the ground like a good little Vietnamese gook booby trap. Next thing I recall is Sweetgirl getting a tour of the room at 9 that morning. So I got up and the play started all over again. That’s right, Yankee, Spark, Diesel and me got 2 and a half hours sleep. We gamed it up though. We had some fierce games of Source, EVEN 1.6, HL2 Deathmatch, and above all some Battle Field Vietnam. Some quick out takes of that are as follows:
At one point I was chasing Shadow in a Mig25, He was in a Mirage, My Buddy Dirge is in an F-4 phantom and he’s got my wing. Suddenly I explode into a furious fire ball. The screen reads “Andyconda has been F-4’d by Dirge. I hit Robby in the arm and scream what are you doing. He hits me back and says I shot at DJ, but I don’t understand why it went after you. I proceed to inform him that the missiles he fired were “HEAT SEEKERS, not ENEMY SEEKERS” At another point I’m crawling up a hill at Darren. He’s on Foot and I’m in a tank. I win Right. WRONG. As I was seeing double I could not gun him down, he ran around the tank like 4 times taking pot shots at me and jumping around like a damn hot potato. For some reason I thought well I’ll just jump out and shoot him. I jump out, he jumps in. Andy Dies. Doh, Stupid brain. Another good one was driving Toby around in the mobile howitzer and him shooting someone right in front of us and literally blowing the guy against the front of the tank, KABOOM. Also, Dirge and I were flying around in a cobra when Onji gets in the AA and fills us full of holes. The helo is hurt but barely flying. I can’t keep it air born. I try to land on the home pad to heal but can’t quite make it. I scream to Robby get out get out get out, we bail the cobra hits the ground does a barrel roll and land upright still in one piece, I yell GET IN GET IN GET IN. and away we went. Hehehehe. Later that night Toby and Darren come in with Very large Daiquiris of 190 Octane with an extra shot. I tell everyone that if they have any technical issues we need to address them within the next 20 minuets as Tech Support is about to go Offline. Sunday morning we start the Crawfish Boil. This is my favorite story from the weekend. Somewhere in the mist of this Dirge explains that he has a 22 rifle with sub sonic bullets. He explains that we won’t hear the firing pin smashing down, the explosion of gun powder, or the sound of the bullet as it travels through the air. Being a very inquisitive person, I say I would love to see that. Dirge grabs his gun, takes a beed on the back fence and KABOOM a shot is fired. Diesel quickly replies that is some loud ass wood, as we have heard a gun blast the one would expect to hear from a gun of that caliber. At the end of it all was a great time. I really enjoyed seeing everyone again and meeting the new ones. Even when Samantha chased me under the table and I inadvertently unplugged a few cat5 cables, everyone seemed to be having fun. Note to remember for the next one. Bring pillows and blankets. Clarify that there will be broadband. Keep homemade Kahlua away from James. Don’t let Nutria or Texan near the private parts, Remind Dirge about ENEMY seeking rockets and how they don’t exsist. Make Robby show you his Quiet sub sonic 22, Be on the look out for Sparks bottle booby traps, and above all UPDATE ALL GAMES BEFORE COMING. What a great time, I can’t wait to do it again.