Tell us a story!

[Bloo]

*In a Scottish Accent*
It had been ten days since the bastard Aztecs had besieged Fort MacTanty, and supplies were running low, down to our last two baguettes that we had ripped off a group of Frenchman the day those buggers attacked. Morale was low, the men had long since given up on the kilt flashing and now that the last of the haggis had been slaughtered for food, we were getting quite bored.
That night, when the moon was nowhere to be seen, the wankers climbed up the walls silently while the men played hide and seek, they caught us off guard, most men died in their hiding places and the seeker himself died when he counted to zero and turned around.
I, Bastard Major McKaigen, came out of the kitchen after trying to ration the last of the food and saw the bloodbath, they had the central keep now, all was lost. But aye, it wasn’t, with quick thinking I took the last of the cheese and threw it into the crowds of screaming Aztec Badger Warriors and quite right like a badger they ate the cheese, it was genius at the wankers started falling down at the horrendous bowel problems French cheese causes (not to mention the smell and taste), the surviving Aztecs though, fearsome and angry that there wasn’t enough cheese to go around charged right for me, with the two baguettes in hand I charged, I fought the buggers to a blood stalemate.
The fight went for hours, they could not match my pastry product but aye, I could not match their numbers, I was fighting against time... One of those wankers bit deep into the bread and tore it from my hand, the other broke in half from overuse, the Aztecs began to swarm over me, this was it. The end.
Then those drunken Irishmen, led by one Paddy O’Deary threw a volley of potatoes onto them Aztecs, confused and slightly curious they turned and left me there on the floor, and charged the Irishmen, who quickly drunk themselves into a stupor and started to fight like a drunken Irishmen on Saint Patricks day which is was, incidentally. The Irish fought off the Aztecs and eventually the bastards wondered why they were in Scotland anyway and instead sailed back to Central America without a word.
Fort MacTanty was saved, but a lot of good men died, and a lot of good kilts went to waste. T’was a grim battle indeed, but I can safely remember forever that
I HELD THE LINE.

// *Can't be fucked if any of the grammar or spelling is wrong. Fuck you Nazis. Bloo out.