Crew Journals

I DrANk aN ENTiRe BoTtLE Of nITRo iN 30 SeCONds HEeeeEEEeELLP MEeEeEEEEEEeeeeeee...

EVerY PArt oF my BODy is viiBRAting sooOo FaST I cAn BaREly seE whAt I aM tyPinG
I hAvE NoT SToPPed moViNg iN oVVer 28 HOUrs
i caNNoT FeEL mY SPLeEn
thE COlor bLU sMelLs bEigE, TaSTEs PinK, ANd soUNDs liKE My DECeasEd AUnT marTHa
I thINK I caN seEEE teH fUTUre, i PrEDICted tHe faLL oF tHE GaLACtic EMpirE aND i DODged 6 TRiToRP SPREadS aND 4 MisSILe saLVos blINDfolDED ((orRrrRrRr maYBeee mY eYEEEz melTED I'm nOt sUrrE)))
i cOUGhed Up SOMethING nd It'S eiTHer coCoA POWder oR my SMalL InTesTINe
SAvE MEEEEeeeeEeEEeeEeeeeeeeEeEeEeeEeeeeeeEee

-Isak

 

I laughed way to hard at this

 

"I feel the need, the need for speed".
Holy crap guys look how fast I'm moving, no one can hit me.
Torpedos pass slowly by while mortar circles disappear into the rear view mirror, cannon fire wizzing past me as a Gatling Gun splashes in my wake.
Railguns turn the air to purple but their shots go wide, Grenades casually arcing overhead.
I am so fast.
You know what, I'll flank around behind the enemy. They will never expect me to be there!!
I'm flying down the tunnel ready to sink the first boat I see and think to myself "what's the blue thing in the grass ahead of me?"
It's too late, I can't stop the speed. My momentum carries me into that dreaded mine as one final thought passes through my head "maybe I should have taken things slow". - Swift.

 

"Go away"

-Brock

Lol

 

"sheesh, get a life!!!"
- Selfish Feelix

 

@Redneck Messiah you should change the name of the thread to "Crew Journels" or something like that. It could be some cool fan-made lore.

 

Ships are burning off the port side, our starboard flank is being bombarded by mortars.
Our fleets hp is critical and I hold life and death in my hands. Should I save the torp spamming shooter or the evasive speeder?
Our defender has two bandages, he can hold his own for the moment. Oh sh!t our enforcer guarding the flank is 1v2 he needs back up asap. This is all too much.. my focus split in to many directions.
My allies are screaming for help from all sides, the sound dissolving into bubbles as they plunge to the depths.
I am the lone survivor, managing to win the battle singlehandedly.
As I return to port I detach my repair bolts and load up on duct tape. Triple tape, yeah that'll do...
I return to battle as an unsinkable juggernaught.
I am IMMORTAL!!!
-Feelix

 

@JoshW Done.

 

"..."
- Sinklair

 

Diary of a Disgruntled Mortarman​

Day 443
Uh, hello diary. This is, um, Mortimer here. The mortarman? The one who usually writes to you, except for one time where Isak and Burnice stole you as a joke? Yeah, that, um, Mortimer. Me again. We've been scouting in the, um, Damage Depot for three, um, days now. Sgt. Swift thinks that the infamous bandit king Redneck Messiah and his posse of Speeders and Interceptors are nearby, but all I've seen is, um, a pufferfish. No, it was a catfish. No, that's what Blastian called me when I said I wanted to ask Dr. Buzzkill out. It was, um, a pufferfish. Yeah, pufferfish. I, um, like pufferfishes. Anyways, Blastian, um, pranked me today. This is Mortimer speaking, um, writing, by the way. That's M-O-R-T-I-M-E-R, in case you weren't sure. So, uh, Blastian put some spare nitroglycerine on the rug of our Shooter's lounge, where I usually land when I, um, roll off my bunk in the mornings. Turns out Bhurt and Sinklair, who were driving and manning the, uh, what do you call it, the turret, thought we were under attack after the, um, big boom boom went off. So now we're about, um, half an hour behind our, um, what's that thing with the colorful boxes? Our schedule? Well, we're behind it. I looked over Bhurt's shoulder out the pilot's viewscreen and didn't see anything, but Sgt. Swift says we're behind it. Maybe it's invisible? I hope it's friendly. Oh, and Sinklair got trigger-happy and wasted half our sniper shells and pretty much all our big torpedoes. And everyone blames me for not, um, being (Sgt. Swift used a big word here... Orange? Obstinate? Observant?) enough. It's not my fault I can barely see out of this cement brick on my head! Although... hang on. Maybe THAT'S why Brock and Sinklair never let me man the, um, turret these days!
This is Mortimer by the way. The, um, mortarman?
Uh, bye.
P.S. Ask Sgt. Swift if we can do some shopping to get me a new hat.
P.P.S. Ask Sgt. Swift if we can throw Blastian, uh, overboard? Even though we have no boards?
P.P.P.S. Ask Sgt. Swift what a schedule is, and why it's so bad that we're behind it. I'm, um, a bit puzzled with that one.

 

Bees coming around me as if I was a flower. Buzz....Buzz....Buzz.... ."Oh,could u bees please stop your Buzz voice?"
Got angrier and angrier and angrier and finally took my Tesla Bolt,stunned all the Bees at once and killed all the Bees with my new upgraded "Mega Railgun" which is simply a Railgun that deals splash damage.

From that day onwards,my name is Dr.Buzzkill. I added "Dr." before my name just to make my name even cool.

-DR.BUZZKILL