The Let's Play No One Asked For: X-COM: UFO Defense: Lots of Colons in this Title

[Blastoise]

Thought for the day:

Do not ask, "why kill the alien?" Instead, ask "why not?"

It's 1999 and aliens are invading because they hate our freedom and the Willenium. In response, the world's governments have banded together to create a top-secret multinational team tasked with fighting against the Xenos hordes.

Unfortunately none of them want to spend more than twenty bucks on this project, and so things...do not go as ideally as hoped. Scraping together the loose change left after a party involving snorting cocaine off the asses of transexual hookers, they manage to hire a ragtag group of soldiers who would, in another time and place, be a bunch of asshole posters on a random Pokemon message board.

These are their stories.

Chronicle of the fallen:

Spoiler: show

GrJackass: First mission, carrying a smoke grenade into a fortified alien craft to save his comrades. His manliness was too much for this wicked world.

Dave: A brave soldier who couldn't shoot straight, lost to a cowardly alien that could.

[Blastoise]

Thought for the day:

Doubt begets treason.

As self-appointed poobah of Team UPN, I decide that we should build our initial base in Europe. There are two main reasons for this: one, the continent contains a large number of our "paying" (and I use the term loosely) sponsors, who may be convinced to cough up some of the spare change in their pockets if we can prevent them from winding up on a UFO's examination table. The second reason is that I hear that pretty French girls would love to meet some winners that don't call them "Fraulein".

And so the order is put in, the bureaucrats bicker, and our base is slapped together by men who may or may not have ties to the Sicilian mafia. Pretty standard government work.



The defensive capabilities of our generously-funded-and-built-by-the-lowest-builder base are, in the words of our defense specialist Frank Tourettes, "completely fucking fucktrocious." Deciding that it's better to sweat a little now than bleed a lot later, I decide to spend some of our initial funding to ensure that--in the event aliens get pissed and decide to come shit on us--that we have the chokepoints to be the extra-cheese pizza to their intestinal tract. This involves building two new hangars that will eventually replace the ones at the bottom, along with some future construction to account for our (hopeful) expansion: alien containment centers, another radar station, and some more storage and living space. While construction begins apace, I decide to hire some scientists (to make things that blow up gooder) and soldiers (to initiate the process(es) that will make things blow up gooder) and buy a selection of equipment that wasn't selected by someone who attended the Venal Military Academy.

And so the soldiers arrive, the weapons are brought in, and the Sicilian Mafia is still on the take. And who is the first wave of feckless cannon fodder are the brave stalwarts who will stand against the screaming alien hordes?




Among the fucking idiot patsies who trained at the Stormtrooper Marksmanship Academy elite soldiers of mankind are:

-Muyotwo, selected for his elite ability to open doors!

-Hanatori, an artist whose brush is her weapon, whose tableau is the ruined remains of alien scum, and whose canvas is pure suffering!

-Mozz, in his own words: "if you squint real hard the little ones almost look like--", uh, I don't think I can put that on a non-18+ website.

-Jerichi, because these aliens might bat for the other team and you never know!

Spoiler: show

Those of you who haven't played X-Com will wonder why I (did or didn't) choose you. Those who have played a couple missions in X-Com will wonder what you did to piss me off. It will be interesting to see if I run out of non-spambot UPN user names by the end of this.

And so, with everything prepared, all that Humanity's Last Chance can do is wait for that radar ping that indicates a UFO ripe for the picking...

[Blastoise]

Thought for the day:

Never forget. Never forgive.

Our Interceptors bag us a birdie. Not a big one, but I guess you have to start somewhere. Knowing that the craft isn't going anywhere, we wait until daylight to deploy.



The squad lands with some trepidation. No one has any idea how many aliens to expect, and the fucking UFO could be any--



...huh. Well I guess that makes things easy.

In an inexplicable (and largely incomprehensible) desire to minimize friendly casualties, the HWP (affectionately known as "Tiny Tank") rolls out to scout the area. Everything looks clear, but there are buildings to the right of our DZ.

FUCK BUILDINGS





Alas, no Xeno scum here. With no threats in sight, the team begins to warily pile out of the ship, knowing that--while they are humanity's best hope--humanity's best hope is equipped with only some rifles, jumpsuits, and a likely retarded quartermaster.

As the team exits the craft, someone spots movement in the other nearby building.



TINY TANK LOATHES MOVEMENT



While Tiny rages the fuck out against the traitorous mortar, someone spots a Sectoid. It has a gun!



Hanatori, nearest to the target, decides to let loose with a barrage of explosive autocannon rounds!



It's not very effective...

A couple other soldiers try and fail, and then Kuno is all like "step the fuck back bitches, I got this shit."



First blood to the Holy Emperor.

In the chaos, another Sectoid is spotted cowering like a tiny baby alien behind its tiny baby walls!



Mozz walks up and executes the little fucker from behind.



He also claims dibs on the corpse, for reasons no one knows and no one really wants to think about.



With no other threats in sight, the squad carefully groups up and begins to approach the UFO from two directions, watching for more.

Another Sectoid--apparently wondering about its buddy and the new Extreme Redecorating craze--makes the foolish decision to poke its head out.



But not too foolish, since it takes a veritable firing line of four UPNers to finally tag the little shit.



McSweeny gets the nod for actually being able to shoot straight, although given the fact that he starts down 15 TUs due to the weight from his basic kit bitch should also go to the gym more.

As the squad approaches the downed UFO, two more Sectoids are found to be cowering!



The Sectoids unload, and while they don't kill anyone Lonely Cubone takes a nasty hit. He survives, but he lives on borrowed time so it's time for the team to get its shit in gear.



Muyo bags the left one in one salvo...



And Doppelganger puts the other one down in a fit of manly rage.

With the outside clear, only the UFO remains, and it's probably guarded. While standard X-COM procedure in these situations call for "camp the fucking thing until the aliens get more bored than you and come out", waiting that long will certainly cause Lonely Cubone to bleed out on his first mission.

Sometimes in life you have to make hard choices and man the fuck up. GrJackass grabs a smoke grenade from his bandoiler and makes sure his balls of steel are properly girded. Then he steps through the door, face to face with the alien scum.



No one sees what happens next as the door closes behind him, but the death rattle says it all. The sectoids probably have a smug look on their tiny little faces.

That is, until the smoke grenade Gr was holding drops to the ground and goes off.



As the sectoids choke on the smoke Muyo, Mozz, and Kuno run in, waving stun batons like mad beserkers of old. Their vision obscured by the choking smoke, the aliens don't stand a chance.

And so it ends, the mission won, but the price dearly paid.



The craft was remarkably intact, despite taking like fifteen fucking missiles up the tailpipe. Nearly everything is salvageable, although the team takes it upon themselves to "liquidate" their prisoners. Not much of a loss considering the containment chambers aren't built yet, but a shame none the less. At least Gr's in for one plus six.

But hey, what better way to ease the sting of a lost comrade than PROMOTIONS!



Victorious, mourning the lost but knowing that he will not be the first, the team returns to base to begin cataloging their findings.

[The Morg]

Ain't no one fucks with Tiny Tank.



Ain't no one.

[Lady Kuno]

First blood to the Holy Emperor.

Ahaha. I like this line. Also poor Gr. I have never played this game before but it looks interesting. I want to know what happens next.

[Blastoise]

Thought for the day:

They have shown you hate. You will show them fear.

While bringing in a veritable treasure trove of alien technology, the scientists are too engrossed in their work with lasers to pay it much mind. Despite their almost obsessive attention, the project seems to be going nowhere fast due to three hotly-debated questions:

1. What color should the laser be?

2. Does the presence of ivory-carved handles, gold plating, and other assorted "bling bling" work as a cost effective intimidation tactic against the aliens?

3. What end should the laser come out of?

While the scientists bicker about whether the carvings on the handles should be a lion or a wolf, the doctors come back with news on Cubone: he'll survive, but he'll be out for at least a month. Hopefully by that time we'll have built armor whose primary protective component isn't hope, but that may be asking too much of our scientists. We call in another lemming soldier to replace GrJackass in our squads, but never in our hearts:



While the the Alpha team licks its wounds, one of the Interceptor pilots radios back in surprised wonder that a larger UFO than the last one landed in Spain under its own volition, without him having to unload half of his payload on it and everything! While it's pitch black outside no one knows how long this chance will last, and so team Bravo (everyone who wasn't on the first mission, plus McSweeny who somehow managed to get himself a seat thanks to his disturbingly encyclopedic knowledge of Boku no Pico) sets off without delay.



Once again, the pilot of the Skyranger outdoes himself in ensuring that no one will have to walk very far. Someone's getting a handjob from me on his birthday!

Of course, the bad thing about nighttime is that it's fucking dark out, and X-Com agents hate the dark like Tiny Tank hates bungalows. But that's okay, because someone stocked the Skyranger with incendiary ammo!







Minimizing property damage? Reasonable use of force proportionate to the threat? What are you, a fucking hippie?

Despite the near-paranoia involved in tackling a fully-intact UFO in the dark, this winds up being a slow, rather boring mission. Maybe it's because Bravo team learned their lesson from Alpha and works hard to ensure that everyone comes home. Maybe it's because they take it slow, letting Tiny take the lead to spot any alien dumb enough to poke its head out.





Of course, it could also be due to the fact that despite being at least three times as large as the last one, this UFO is inexplicably crewed by fewer aliens. These aliens like shoving anal probes up cattle for fun, God only knows what demented chucklefucks run their logistics.



The team storms the bridge and puts down the two defenders like the cowardly bitches they are. Now to flush out the rest and take this turkey home.



While improving the ventilation of a nearby farmhouse, Tiny Tank manages to find two hiding behind what was once a wall. The entire squad lights up for two rounds, managing to accomplish shit nothing except a higher ammo bill. Then ABL remembers her lessons at Imperial Stormtrooper Marksmanship Academy, and decides to do the exact opposite for a change.



ABL accomplishes with a rifle what our heavy weapons soldiers could not accomplish with incendiary and explosive ammo. Good job Deoxys/Dave.

And the hunt continues. You know how your shit's always in the last place you look?



This sectoid was apparently the cognitively median one on the ship, and managed to climb to the rooftop to protect itself from enemy fire. Once again, it takes a few rounds of shooting and enough dakka to fuel a small Ork Waaagh!!! to actually kill it.

So everyone on Bravo returns home, intact and in high spirits. Guess it's time for PROMOTIONS!



We made McSweeny captain because he was able to bench press a kitten after the mission. Five whole reps, even!

And so the team settles in, hoping for a quiet rest of the month as the engineers finish up some of the advanced laser pistols the scientists managed to invent in between bouts of arguing that "red lasers are too Darth Vader". Unfortunately the Aliens will not rest, and decide to launch an offensive against an objective of unimaginable strategic importance!



...wait, where the fuck is that?



...wait, where the fuck is that?

While everyone would be perfectly happy to just let the place rot, turns out our sponsors do frown on unchecked alien genocides. So we load up and land in a place that hopefully has indoor plumbing.

Rolling out, Tiny spots a convenience store.

CONVENIENCE STORES PROMOTE SLOTH AND VICE





An alien looking for the perfect Powerball ticket is caught in the blast.

Tiny also spots an alien in the alleyway, but is too low on TUs to do much about it. So Hanatori comes out and lights the fucker up.





This fleeting moment of glory will not last for Hanatori, who will spend most of the rest of the mission unconscious from smoke inhalation. You don't need a gas mask for all that carbon monoxide poisoning you fucking babies.

Mozz manages to sight and tag one blown out of its hidey-hole with a brand new laser pistol:





Strangely, he doesn't call dibs on this body. "Too old", he says.

From here, things get silly. There are some shitty looking kangaroo dog things:





They go down like bitches, because the aliens aren't genre savvy enough to know that melee isn't so great when the enemy can shoot farther than you can run in a turn.



The others hang at long range, well out of the competency of even our most "accurate" shooters. That is, until the team grudgingly decides to make use of weapons which only need to hit in the general vicinity of the target:



The terror mission becomes a turkey shoot: the aliens are too scattered to put up much of a fight against a careful X-Com team, and it quickly becomes a mission of finding what corner one of the purple ones decided to lodge itself in for whatever constitutes a reason in its head.

Finally the team finds the last one, having just chewed off the torso of a civilian who answered the door in the middle of a fucking extraterrestrial firefight:



While the loss of life is always tragic, the gene pool becoming just a little less filled with piss is not.

The team concentrates fire, and despite their best efforts some shots actually do hit home.



And how is X-Com viewed for its valiant, thankless defense of people who probably think that cameras take pictures of your soul?



I'm sorry, I didn't see your fucking military doing jack shit. I guess they were too busy extorting ethnic minorities for sexual favors to serve and protect.

With Kinshashashashashasa safe and my resevoir of casual racism temporarily run dry, the team packs up the loot and the bodies and brings them back for either inspection or to sell to people whom you don't want to ask many questions...

[Lady Kuno]

Woah. Everyone has stats? Can I get a screenshot to see how marginally useful awesome I am?

So how do you beat this game anyway? And do you choose who the scientists are?

[Blastoise]

Originally Posted by Princess Serenity

Woah. Everyone has stats? Can I get a screenshot to see how marginally useful awesome I am?

Your character's not bad compared to the others, since you have high TU (lets you do more each turn) and your accuracy isn't dogshit like half the fucking team's is.

(If anyone else wants to see their stats before an alien gibs them, let me know.)

So how do you beat this game anyway? And do you choose who the scientists are?

Scientists and engineers are basically just numbers that let you research/build things faster.

There is a certain way to beat the game (that I've spoiled for myself along with a lot of other things, because I'm a working adult and if I don't want to slam my dick in the proverbial car door for 10 hours that's my perogative), but I won't say what it is just in case anyone doesn't want to be spoiled.

[GrJackass]

where can i get this game it looks awesome

ps please dont forget my evil good twin GrTwo

[phoopes]

This is pretty awesome. As always, your commentary makes it even better. I've said this a few times now... I'm usually not one for PC games, but with the stuff like this that UPN people have been showing, I'll have to give PC gaming a shot.

[Blastoise]

Originally Posted by GrJackass

where can i get this game it looks awesome

ps please dont forget my evil good twin GrTwo

I'm playing the Steam version, which is the DOS version of the game on DOSBOX. It's from 1994, so I'm sure there are plenty of places you can find it (legitimate or...um, not).

Originally Posted by phoopes

This is pretty awesome. As always, your commentary makes it even better. I've said this a few times now... I'm usually not one for PC games, but with the stuff like this that UPN people have been showing, I'll have to give PC gaming a shot.

From what I've played so far, you're doing yourself a disservice if you pass on this because it's a "PC game" or whatever (it was made in 1994, your fucking toaster can run it at this point). It holds up remarkably well, even if it does have more bugs than a flophouse mattress.

[Blastoise]

Thought for the day:

A day not spent killing the alien is a day wasted.

January ends with little fanfare, the aliens apparently sufficiently cowed from their ass-beatings to fall back and reconsider their options. The team's first performance review comes in, and it's a pleasant surprise:



Our sponsors have apparently caught on to the fact that more money = more dead aliens. While Team UPN may or may not make the bulk of its operational income selling dangerous alien technology to buyers who may or may not be providing said dangerous alien technology to tinpot South American dictators, the extra infusion of income is always welcome.

Things continue to look up, as the scientists quit bickering long enough to actually, you know, fucking finish the design of that laser rifle:



Any claims that I may or may not have threatened to send a Skyranger full of angry agents to kill each scientist's friends, loved ones, pets, and college roommates are completely unfounded, vicious slander which will be tried in a UK court (seriously, I can sue you for libel there because you said mean things about my jeans) before the offender is summarily shot in the face.

Eventually, the aliens find their nerve and begin sending more delicious, loot-filled space pinatas UFOs to do whatever it is that the aliens think they're doing. One of our first conquests of the month is a scout that we manage to down just SW of our base. While the interior is leveled, we manage to find a straggler:



We play a game of hide-and-seek with the little bastard, only in our game we "tag" with the business end of a tazer:



Daisy gets the credit for the capture, and a bonus to her rations for teaching an alien all about what an anal probe feels like.

Sectoids may be small, weak, and completely pathetic cannon fodder, but they're apparently smart enough to bargain for their lives. Turns out our prisoner is a big shot navigator, and spills the beans on some subjects of interest:





He also gives us some tantalizing hints about building what he calls a "hyperwave decoder", which will, in his words: "allow for advanced detection of non-Terran craft and descrambling of what you humans call 'adult Pay-per-View':"



We shoot him in the head when we're done, regardless. Silly alien scum, this is 1999: I can download all the pornography I want off the internet at a blazing fast 200 kilobits per second!

We manage to snag whatever UFOs we can in Europe and western Russia, but a few elude our grasp: some alien activity in China is detected, but our Interceptors can either never find them or can never catch them when they do. No one knows exactly what business the aliens have with the Chinese, although maybe the sectoids feel kinship with a society that is also filled with a near-endless supply of expendable drudges who exist only to feed the all-encompassing apparatus of the state. Another one is spotted over the Arctic, no doubt conducting secret talks with the polar bears, and, by extension, the polar bears' true masters (the Coca Cola Co.). Such an insidious plot must be stopped, but fuck that place is cold and it doesn't have a lot of French girls (that you would want to bang, anyway).

In any event, with the steady influx of alien technology (matched with a similar, yet completely unrelated influx of black market cash) it's time to begin looking to expand. I decide to set up a second base in the US, seeing as how they're the team's biggest sponsor and a country full of rednecks patrolling the border to protect their homes against the predations of unarmed itinerant Mexican farm workers and Kenyan Muslim terrorists is as good a recruiting ground as any:



Unfortunately it's not all sunshine and handjobs in February (except for the Skyranger pilot), and we suffer a couple casualties...

During a basic UFO recovery mission Dave's remarkable to ability to hit everything but the fish in the barrel with high explosives finally catches up to him. Spotting an alien sniper lying in wait at the top of a two-story roof, Dave excitedly unleashes with a full salvo of HE autocannon rounds. The rounds do nothing except open a hole with a nice clean line of sight from the sectoid to Dave, and the alien repays this kindness with a plasma shot straight between Dave's eyes. Dead before he hits the ground, Dave is long gone and the team does the only thing they know: they nuke the little fucker off the planet in a hail of energized and rockets.

The team returns to the base, mourning Dave's death. There is, however, an unstated but palpable sense of relief that the dangerous heavy weaponry may now go to someone who can land a rocket in the general vicinity of a target at least once in ten shots.

We nearly lose Lindz in another recovery mission. Things go well at first, the team advancing slowly towards the landed UFO and sniping any sectoid dumb enough to stick its head out:







Of note, Hanatori manages to score a kill when the rocket she fires at an alien at the far side of the field goes high and misses the first floor, but instead hits the second floor and still winds up killing an alien that was hiding there. Shadowshocker manages to bean another one right in the forehead with just one(?!) carefully aimed shot, proving to the rest of the squad that it is in fact possible to hit targets without spraying your weapon like a firehose.

The outside clear, the squad cautiously moves in to secure the UFO. Lindz, taking point through the east door, takes at least a couple plasma body shots. Most pussies men would be dead from such hits, especially in armor that defends one's modesty more than one's life.

BUT NOT LINDZ



Demonstrating testicular fortitude all the more remarkable for someone who doesn't actually have testicles, Lindz calmly sights the offender in question and blows its head off. The rest of the team quickly captures the last holdout cowering in the engine room, partially to get Lindz to the ER before it's possible to play jump rope with her intestines and also partially to ensure that she doesn't further emasculate the male members of the team.

Such gumption does not come without cost, and even with such incredible spiritual cajones Lindz will have to sit out for a while:



On the bright side, the scientists soon reveal their greatest triumph: actual protective gear!



Deciding that agents tend to be more useful when they're actually, you know, alive, an order is put in for a run of twenty suits. The first suit is barely out of the workshop, however, when the aliens make their move:



What is it with the aliens and killing brown people? I blame the evening news.

[DaveTheFishGuy]

With eyesight like mine, I'm not surprised.

[Lady Kuno]

Go Team America! Also in that screenshot how come it said I got no killed? I thought I killed that bitch ass alien cold.

Is there any way to increase stats? Like killing bitches or ranking up?

[Blastoise]

Originally Posted by Princess Serenity

Go Team America! Also in that screenshot how come it said I got no killed? I thought I killed that bitch ass alien cold.

Is there any way to increase stats? Like killing bitches or ranking up?

Game doesn't seem to count missions/kills accurately. And yeah, characters can raise their stats by doing things like gunning down alien scum.

[Blastoise]

So I hear some of you crazy kids were looking for a place to get this game

3 bucks, get it while it's hot

[Lady Kuno]

Hey what ended up happening Blastoise? Did humanity get wiped off the face of the earth or something? Or did something actually horrible happen, like me dying?

[Sneaze]

>away for a little bit
>added to the squad
>stats not piss

Iamokaywiththis.jpg

[Blastoise]

Originally Posted by Holy Emperor

Hey what ended up happening Blastoise? Did humanity get wiped off the face of the earth or something? Or did something actually horrible happen, like me dying?

Got busy with some other things, also need to do some organizing of screenshots and decide how I'm going to proceed: I'm up to May in game time, and I decided not to take a lot of screenshots of the smaller battles: if I have to screenshot and narrate every minor UFO I jack for loot I won't finish the game until next year.

But yeah, at the moment your character is still alive. You're actually the best shot on the team, along with...unownmew (I guess it's the whole Texan thing).

Also, since my last post several of you guys have died and some of the losses were so significant that I stopped keeping track. So yeah, if you don't see your character anymore with no mention from me that's probably why.

[Blastoise]

Thought for the day:

Knowledge is power. Guard it well.

...huh? Oh, it's you.

What was I doing? I was banging a harem of fraulheins saving the goddamn world, what were you doing?

So yeah, the whole Bombay mission went off mostly without a hitch: the sectoids attacked, their new trick being that they apparently have mini flying saucers that are made with a combination of high-tech circuitry and high explosives. We lose two in this mission: the first is deoxys, who manages to get his dumb ass killed while trying to finish off the last sectoid. The second and most crippling loss is that of a friend dear to all our hearts:



After several missions of proud service against architects and civil engineers everywhere, Tiny Tank finally meets his end at the hand of a cyberdisc. While there will always be another HWP ready to be sold (provided the seller is not picky about where our income comes from), none will ever be the equal of Tiny (or last half as long, unfortunately for them and our budget).

And so February turns over into March, which opens with an ominous omen when Mozz is killed during a routine recovery mission. Like Tiny, there will never be another Mozz (much to the relief of grade schoolers everywhere).

During March the team also gets its first taste of the psionics that the sectoid navigator was talking about. Things...go poorly:











Nearly half the team goes alien-induced full retard, gunning down ABL before everyone either gets out their stun batons to beat the mind controlled soldiers into submission or has the good sense to drop any dangerous weaponry they're carrying, lest they unload a laser rifle at full power into their comrades.

In hindsight, deciding "wouldn't it be funny if Kairne and unownmew both deployed together on their first mission for this" was kind of like pissing on Poseidon's face before taking a worldwide cruise.

Oh yeah, speaking of unownmew, turns out he's the hero of the day when he storms the bridge with Hanatori, and--under the cover of smoke--beats the psionic sectoid leader into submission with a stun rod, ensuring that Team UPN will have the powers of the mind at their disposal, a gain arguably worth the sacrifice of losing half of the squad in one mission:





Kairne? He dies like a bitch. Depending on your perspective, this is either proof of the existence of God or or an excellent argument against God's omnibenevolence.

So yes, maybe March wasn't a good month to be the dudes in Team UPN holding the gun. But these are good months for SCIENCE!







Once we build the psionic laboratory and send all our troops through psionic training, we learn the true reason that McSweeny struggles to lift more than twenty pounds at a time: in a past life he was...

MENTOK

THE MIND TAKER





Our scientists also discover, after long hours of painstaking research, that we might be fucked:



And that to stop the act of being fucked, that we should shoot the aliens until they die:



And they name one of the alien species after a goddamn turd:



To be fair, they do fight like shit so it is somewhat appropriate.

Then the scientists decide to do something useful and invent power armor:



In the space of a few months Team UPN has gone from a rag-tag collection of malcontents with pistols to elite, power-armored supersoldiers with the best equipment mankind can produce standing against the unstoppable alien hordes along with a Catholic Mormon Space Nazi spreader of the good word of Jesus Christ to creatures who probably don't see a lot of value in Mormon doctrine because they were genetically engineered to not have testicles.

Oh yeah, and he's also one of our best marksmen despite not believing in the science that makes his gun work. I dunno, you tell me.

During this time Team UPN also expands, the US base expands its manufacturing capabilities to become the forge of the team, and bases in Asia and Australia are founded:





Australia is not chosen without purpose, as it is home to Archaic and his militarily-vital collection of Sailor Moon VHS tapes an alien base exists on a nearby island:



Half of Team Europe is now stationed on the base, awaiting the day that they will JACK ALL THE SUPPLY TRANSPORTS kick the filthy xenos off our planet.

In truth Team UPN needs everything it can get, for as the team has developed ever shinier toys and MIND TAKING the aliens have ratcheted up their game as well. Team Europe learns this well when they storm a landed battleship: taking control of a Muton (very apelike, very green, very prone to taking 15 plasma shots to the chest without fucking dying), McSweeny decides to have some fun with the fancy gun he's carrying. The gun fires a missile whose explosion radius is half the screen and absurdly destructive:



This, ladies and gentlemen, is what we call "an outside toy."

And so, at the beginning of June, before the next wave of hapless ground chuck reinforcements arrives, here stands the state of Team UPN's forces:

[Sneaze]

When the fuck did I get wounded?

Edit: Or rather, let me rephrase that. I would like to know in what completely badass horrifically retarded way I managed to wound myself.

[Blastoise]

Originally Posted by Sneezey12

When the fuck did I get wounded?

Edit: Or rather, let me rephrase that. I would like to know in what completely badass horrifically retarded way I managed to wound myself.

A Muton shot you in the chest and called you a monkey.

You shot him in the face and called him a hearse.

[Sneaze]

Originally Posted by Blastoise

A Muton shot you in the chest and called you a monkey.

You shot him in the face and called him a hearse.

Originally Posted by Blastoise

Muton (very apelike, very green, very prone to taking 15 plasma shots to the chest without fucking dying)

Ha.

[Lady Kuno]

*is one of the best shooters, also apparently one of the highest ranked leaders*

*has incredible psychic powers*


Well I'm happy with my character. Just make sure I get all the best armor and weapons.