The Loose Association of Wargamers

i think Purps is pretty keen on shooting up boy scouts

Particularly at their BUM.

levied troop wrote: ↑Fri Apr 26, 2019 8:28 am Although we do have a rule about shooting boy scouts.

Never before the end of bob-a-job week?

Do they still call it bob a job week?

I presume the UK's widows pension cuts out at one mite.

Comrades,

I stand here upon Ayton Bridge, watching the water flow steadily through the river Dewent and my mind is filled with the thoughts of the brilliance, wonder and enormity of the Earth and just how insignificant human life is.
And not just here in Ayton.
In the whole of a Scarborough and it’s surrounding landscape.

With that in mind, I expect you to all give your lives without a moments hesitation.
Only by filling your bodies with the bullets and shrapnel and fire of our enemies can we make the sacrifice worthy of our great culinary cause.
Die, die, die and die some more. Then die again. And again. Then die some more. The. Die and die and die. I will gladly sacrifice every last one of you for my, errr Our cause.

Yes I see the Ayton of the future...

That future is a delicious Brunch in a minimalist gastro pub. The warming fragrance of Shredded Courgette confit and Feta and Fennel tea fills the air. I can feel an overwhelming sense of pride and superiority as I clutch the organic finger food of far away lands in an assortment of bamboo pop up street market stalls.
Bask in the quiet glory of fairtrade bean curd eaten from gourd bowls made from the indigenous peoples of um bongo bongo land.

The Ayton of the future sees an ancient order of monks brewing chocolate out of a stone floored delicatessen nestled between the aromatic spiced curry houses of the north and a psychedelic tofu sushi grill.
Sample the delights of a delicious Altefritzen-burger with a flax peppered kale salad whilst drinking a smoothie made from caramelised seaweed.
Sat on the kerb a dreadlocked man plays bongos rhythmically whilst you haggle for some holistically enhanced aura beads, whittled from the fallen seeds of a powerful cosmic tree that aligns the quantum harmonics of your karmic shadow.

Now you can see the importance on why you all have to die for the cause, this wonderful utopia of righteous cuisine.

If you allow the forelock tuggers to have there way, the Ayton of the future will be a desolate and scattered collection of buildings, broken only by the startling patches of ground where unmentionable crimes have happened to animals.
Bored women will press a solitary and somber tit on a window. A handful of men will huddle around a bleak disco on a Friday night and the only hors d'oeuvre you will be able to acquire, will be a forgotten bag of mini cheddars.

Chairman Mauve.

Well, there is a stark choice.

It's the Ayton we could have had. And still could! All hail Chairman Mauve!

Is he a taxi driver?

Fuck that! Mauve and his minions will be first against the wall. They will warm up the BUM rifle barrels in preparation for the Yorkshire pudding peddlers. There can be no cuisine other than Black Pudding!

He'll be warming up your BUM ?