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| Xeogaming Forums - - Posts by Stitch |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie!          Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| Upon return from the Hollywood trip, Brandon pulled me aside as Christine ducked into the house and handed me my tickets for my Southwest Airlines flight set for two o'clock the next day. "One carryon, and your Toughbook. Nothing more, nothing less."
The next day, I arrived at the airport offsite parking area and boarded the shuttle into the airport. I reluctantly entered the terminal, breezed through both check-in and security, and was on my way to a standby seat on the flight. Half an hour later, I sat leaning into the windows at the rear of the plane staring at the luggage loaders as they tossed boxes clearly marked fragile onto the conveyor belt. My backpack, sitting in the overhead compartment, contained nothing more than my clothes and GPS accessories. My laptop, resting in underseat storage, contained nothing more than its accessories and $120 dollars in cash along with my identification documents. No more weapons on this trip, just the digital realm of weaponry--the laptop--and a good book for my one hour flight to the sprawling land of brown; Arizona. I had secured a brand new Silver Kia Rio from the Enterprise Rent-A-Car near the airport along with a two-night stay at the airport close Red Roof Inn Phoenix Airport just off the 10 freeway placing me just minutes from my target locations. Rendezvous agent at the airport gave me my mission details on a CD-ROM, and instructed that I view them only upon arrival to the hotel. After much complaining about the lack of power in the new vehicle, including the decrease in the coolness factor, and the lack of wireless access from the Red Roof Inn, my agent decided I could be silenced with a gift certificate to the Carl's Jr up the street towards the 10 freeway. He was right, and after consuming my much needed meal, I set forth on the freeway until I arrived--a few hours later--at my hotel greeted by an extremely friendly concierge eager to help me despite my uneasiness with Arizona traffic. Ushered into my room with the urge to fall asleep on one of the two beds, I shed the computer's case and plopped myself down at the table preparing the laptop for a quick study session of the data on the CD. Much like London and Iraq years before, the disc exploded onscreen with full-motion video narrating my mission objectives for the following two days. In the morning, I was to leave, dressed in the "G-man" suit consisting of black slack, black shoes and socks, black leather belt, pressed white shirt, black silk tie, black sunglasses, and the black trenchcoat, and proceed to the first address on my list of activities where I'd meet my next informant. Entranced by the activities built into my TV, and the basic cable channels, I settled into the bed nearest the door and played Nintendo 64 for about an hour before deciding on just watching television until I nodded off to sleep in my warm, humid, pitch dark room. |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| I was reading the forum description, and decided I'd start a thread on chicken soup, but title it noodle soup instead since I like noodle soup more than chicken soup because I can eat the ramen with chopsticks, and while it's still possible to actually eat chicken soup with chopsticks, I'd rather play that on the piano. | |||
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| The next morning came as a surprise before I realized I wasn’t laying in my own bed mangled in foreign sheets in the small double occupancy room somewhere outside of Phoenix. My cell phone started ringing from somewhere within the room. I searched through the pockets in my backpack locating the phone towards the bottom of the last pocket.
“The Hobbit” appeared on the caller ID. “Do I have to do the ‘Agent Almodovar’ thing with you, too?” I answered unaware of whom might be on the other end of the call. Balancing the small Motorola cell phone on my shoulder, I paced around the room in a t-shirt and underwear walking towards the window to draw the curtains allowing some of the morning sunlight to filter through the clean room. I pulled a pair of black slacks from my backpack and walked towards the bathroom. “No, you don’t have to answer the phone that way this time around. Although, you will refer to me as Agent Demaria. Are you progressing alright?” Sounds of a computer keyboard could be heard in the background. After putting on the slacks, I walked over to my backpack to retrieve my shirt and tie. “Progressing? Yes, I’m progressing along quite nicely,” I mocked, “Would you like me to give you status on my pants as well?” “Very funny, Lee. No, just do what you’ve been instructed to do on the CD, and I’ll check in with you later on today.” “Just one more question; are you sure that I won’t be needing any form of protection while I’m here?” There was a pause on the other end of the line, “Not unless you plan on picking up any one-night boyfriends near the university.” Ha ha, funny, I thought, “Wait, I remember you now. You were the technician that took my hard drive upon completion of the Iraq mission? Damn you,” and I hung up on him. After fully dressing myself in the “G-man” suit, I walked out to the KIA and proceeded to connect the necessary peripherals to the computer to aid the GPS software in directing me to the areas I needed to be at. (Last edited by Zabuza on 05-07-05 05:49 PM) |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| I like clam chowder in a sourdough bread bowl, but I guess cream of chicken would work as well. Where the cream in a chicken come from? Eww...don't wanna think about it. It's like find nuggets in chickens. | |||
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| I don't weigh heavily on any of this piddle, but it kills time and offers a mild helping of insight:
Being born on the 13th day of the month should help make you a better manager and organizer, but it may also give you a tendency to dominate people a bit. You may be more responsible and self-disciplined than you realize. Sincere and honest, you are a serious, hard working individual. Your feeling are likely to seem somewhat repressed at times. You are apt to be much more practical, rational, and conscious of details. Your intolerance and insistence on complete accuracy can be irritating to some. What Does Your Birth Date Mean? (Last edited by Zabuza on 04-29-05 02:48 AM) |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| I could sense that the elongated mission was coming to an end. There could not have been anymore they wanted me to do, but why code the rifle specifically to me. I was not trained for the field. I was not trained to don the camo suits, the body armor, to carry a heavy backpack through the desert while defending myself from a barrage of anything. I was an analyst, so trained to sit somewhere in front of a computer and either compress massive amounts of data into something digestible by my superiors, or hack into other computer systems in retrieval of valuable data or computer sabotage.
Not once in the past years since my initial capture aboard that international flight leading to my negotiations as a tool of the government had I ever been placed in positions that required my physical abilities to defend myself. I had created a persona for myself in the digital world of the internet, and my superiors now demanded that I duplicate that same "bad-ass" digital reputation in the physical world. They no longer wanted a single-sided agent for number crunching, the occasional computer break-in, or reprogramming the White House's email systems so that the president doesn't accidentally lock himself out of his email accounts. I propped my body up against the ammo case and pondered what could have led up to my presence in Iraq. I requested a placement on an advancement list to preview new technologies before their general release to the public. With the XM8 sitting next to me and the ocular headset scanning the region in front of me, I realized that these were the new technologies that I was being given a preview to; not the consumer technologies I had anticipated. The Humvee came to a slow stop, the sound of the sand slipping below the massive tires, as I pushed the tarp off of my body to inspect the road ahead of us. The soldier in the passenger seat motioned for me to cover myself up again, and after I had settled back into the seat, I heard the farsi being yelled outside the vehicle. The Humvee started moving again, and I scanned the region again using the XM8's cameras. The tarp was pulled off me revealing my London agent again, still smoking his cigarette, glaring down at me through his mirrored sunglass holding a mini-CD towards me. I sat up, received the mini-CD, and slid off the back gate onto the pavement inside a small compound. The walls inside the compound seemed to be so brittle that one could crumble them by simply blowing on them. On the opposite corner from our Humvee stood a tall tower overlooking another Iraqi government compound. My agent reached into his trenchcoat pocket retrieving a Sony MiniDisc player and handed it to me. "More information?" I asked popping the mini-CD inside the player, and connecting the cable to my ocular headset to serve as my headphones. "No, it's Beethoven's ninth symphony because you'll need it to drown out the ambient noises so that you can hit your target. You don't get a second chance this time," he took a final drag on his cigarette then handed the butt to a soldier standing nearby, "Complete this today, and we'll send you home." He pulled out the silver cigarette case, removed a cigarette, lit up, and picked up the XM8 rifle. I optically activated the main ammunition magazine then activated the safety switches placing the security anti-theft stun gun-like electrical dischargers on standby. "And, if I can't complete it today?" He had been watching my eye movements through the ocular display, "You've activated the main ammunition magazine, activated the safety on the trigger, and have placed the anti-theft shockers on standby. I'm impressed, agent. Now, take your rifle and search through your pre-programmed targets. You'll find a picture of your selected target, and you'll find your target in the building across from the tower." As I grasped the rifle, it immediately read my fingerprints and disabled all the safety device I had engaged prior to my handling it, and walked towards the tower stairs. The soldiers and my London agent boarded all the Humvees and departed through the gates. Sitting near the gate rested a black Mercedes Benz G500 with its engine idling waiting for my hasty retreat upon completion of this assignment. The contents of the Humvee I had commandeered from the Marine base sat inside the trunk area of the vehicle, the Toughbook sitting on the hood of the vehicle. I slowly walked up the stairs of the Tower, the Ode to Joy portion of the ninth symphony blaring in my ears, the only other sound being my breathing and heart pounding, and braced myself for hopefully the last time I ever had to kill another person on this planet. (Last edited by Zabuza on 05-01-05 03:49 AM) |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| It's in the profile. TSAHacker. Some of my entries are locked out as friends only entries because leaving all of them public cost me my job last time.
You're still free to read my public entries, but don't expect to be added to my friend's list unless I explicitely trust you. Paranoia is a good thing. |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| I stopped midway up the stairs turning back down heading towards the Mercedes Benz to retrieve the special ammunition case. I grabbed the case resuming my trek up the fourteen steps to the top--I counted them on the way up to calm my nerves. At the top, I placed the rifle on the wall overlooking a somewhat beaten down building across the street complete with armed guards pacing around the entrances armed with AK-47s. At a second story window sat my target, behind his desk reading over a few documents. Simply disposing of the target wasn't going to be enough.
As far as an escape route was concerned, I had no idea where I was even with the help of the GPS, and I had neither the patience nor luck to actually defend myself against an armed force of guards with my one rifle in a decaying compound. The special ammunition allowed me enough time to create a large enough diversion to facilitate my escape. I opened the case and loaded a single tube into the specialized port. The rifle accepted the ammunition, displaying it as the main ammunition along with the disclaimer before returning me to the "Ready" screen. I lowered my body under the blistering midday sun, the air stinging my eyes with intense dusty dryness and filling my lungs with putrid hot air, I balanced the rifle upon the wall zooming in using the ocular headset on the room occupied by my target. My target, later identified as a vital link to al-Qaeda and code named UBL--Usama Bin Ladin, served as a severing point for operations that I could not perceive nor comprehend at the time. I locked target for the first round of blasts at the room, and then locked a second target for another round of blasts at the main gates pausing only to watch the guards glance up towards me before resuming their rounds. After locking in the targets, I set down the rifle and ran back down to the car retrieving the turret mount for the rifle. I returned to the site, set up the rifle on its turret facing the compound, grabbed the ammunition case, and walked back out towards the vehicle. Once inside the vehicle, I slowly drove out of the compound, the ocular headset still transmitting the scene across from the compound. About two blocks from the compound, I verbally initiated the two target attacks followed by a multilayered confirmation sequence required to access the rifle's self-destruct codes. In the rearview mirror, a series of deafening explosions launched dust and debris high into the air, errupting in frantic machine gun shots and sounds of crowds screaming and running. The ocular headset displayed a direct hit to the room, obliterating everything within fifty feet of the center of the room, and then jumped to the second target area destroying the guards and surrounding entrances in a bright fiery blaze. I continued driving as the ocular headset's image showed a small countdown starting from five seconds, then displayed a solid blank screen scrolling the words, "Connection Terminated. Self-Destruct Sequence Complete." I continued driving towards the pre-programmed destination on the GPS system satisfied with my efforts, and amazed that I had come out of it unscaved. Ahead, a few military vehicles appeared seemingly from nowhere, and began to set up a roadblock. Immediately behind me, several more military vehicles closed in on me, but did nothing more than follow me. My heart raced. It did not feel right for that many vehicles to surround me at that moment. Something was wrong. I glanced down at my clothes. I was still wearing the Iraqi local garb while driving a US military vehicle with no other form of identification confirming my true identity. Out of Story: Just felt the need to announce that Soldier of Fortune is now 41 pages long with over 18,400 words, by far the longest single work I've ever created thus far. |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| Relish you highspeed connections knowing that there are people out there forbidden from using such connections at home...but they can't stop me at school!! Or, anywhere else I can get a wireless connection. And, when they let me use technologies I can't talk about.
But, why hardwire, when you can go wireless? Otay? Otay. |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| I did so get one of you onstage, but it was obstructed by women and children whom were too stupid to move out of the way. And, had I known that Pockets was going to pop the question, I would have taken more pictures. But since I didn't know, I took one of you and WhiteRose/Oni...kind of.
Yes, I had to take the pictures since I don't have a special anyone to share a damned thing with. Therefore, by default, I become the photographer. Really, I'm happy for all of you, but can I at least play a bigger part in the wedding than being the photographer? I never get to do anything in anyone's parties other than photographer. Never picked for quincianeras (sp?). Never picked out for weddings. Never selected as a potential godfather for any of my cousins. No, but always used for family things (when I worked for Disneyland). And, always, the photographer or videographer working pro bono, then criticized for my artistic vision as a result of my gracious and free work. My rant over, I still congratulate and love you all. And, I take damn good pictures on short notice with a camera with which I had no familiarity. Just to summarize, my shirt read on the front, "THIS IS MY GARB (EXPLANATION ON THE BACK)." On the back, a lengthy explanation on the reason why a white t-shirt composed my entire garb for the Ren Faire. Next year, I shall be Wizard the Gay, and it shall be proper!! And, the three couples shall follow me!! |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| The drive to the business park three miles south of Sky Harbor International Airport proved that Arizonian drivers lacked the conviction to survive against, or with, California drivers. It also proved that despite my free food, the KIA still lacked the power to move me let alone itself along the 10 freeway; I was forced to take surface streets in order to avoid causing unneeded delays to traffic flow. At least the air conditioning worked.
My phone started ringing again, this time displaying a caller ID tag I never thought I would see again, "GOVERNMENT 1". "Agent, I trust you're on schedule this time," the familiar raspy, fake British voice of my London agent filtered through the cellular airwaves of my phone, "since we're not directly monitoring you." "Took you long enough to find me. How did you like my exit?" I tried balancing my phone on my shoulder, but failed in keeping it there allowing the phone to fall between my legs, then allowed it to slide onto the floor and wedge itselt shut underneath my driver's seat. With the phone deciding that it wanted to end the call, I continued to the office park locating the warehouse across the street from the Southwest Airlines headquarters. The phone began to ring again from below my seat, but as I was unable to reach it, I resolved to park the car underneath a large shady tree. The phone continued to play the theme from James Bond while I walked around to the trunk to retrieve my trenchcoat, and then walked around to the passenger side to place the Toughbook 27 on hibernation. The phone stopped ringing for a moment then started again, this time playing the guitar solo from the Bohemian Rhapsody. I dove across the seats wedging myself slightly between the steering column and front seat, my legs dangling out of the passenger side door. "Moshi moshi?" I answered trying to sit up from my constricted position. "Brandon asked me to call you," Christine chimed in on the other end, "to find out how you're doing there, and if you need any help. Oh, and I coaxed it out of him last night, rather, tickled it out of him." "Tickled what?" I sat up in the passenger seat adjusting my tie in the reflection of the passenger mirror. As I adjusted, a desert camouflaged Hummer drove by on the street behind me immediately shuttling me back to the last few days in Iraq. The destruction of the prototype XM8 rifle, the intense heat and dryness of the desert, the final drive out of Baghdad, and the great award of the Panasonic Toughbook 27 upon my return of the Toughbook 38. The Toughbook that shall be forever known as "The Brick" because of its armored eight pounds of Pentium III fury. "Lee!" she yelled as I snapped back into reality after zoning out for a whole minute of silence, "I know he's your agent. It makes him sexier in an odd stalker kind of way, but he's your stalker...kind of." "Yeah, well, let him know that everything is going as planned, and I'll check in with him tonight." I killed the phone, dropped it in my trenchcoat pocket, locked the vehicle, and walked towards the empty, imposing warehouse. A Southwest Airlines 737 roared overhead interrupting my thoughtless humming while I slowly paced towards the warehouse main entrance. The air smelled sweetly of jet fumes from the nearby airport, and the building ignited flashbacks of the crumbling compound in Iraq moments before I destroyed the compound. I stopped walking just short of reaching the door, and took a deep breath. My eyes started hurting, my chest felt constricted, and my heart began to race. Sweat started to bead on my forehead, but it wasn't the hot mid-morning sun causing it. My vision began to blur; I dialed my London agent. "I'm not ready," my voice shook as I struggled to verbalize my body's reactions to the surroundings, "the memories are still there." I began to lose my balance as I talked and stumbled wheezingly towards the wall nearest the door; I could hear my informants moving around inside the warehouse. "Where's the young man that killed all those people in London and Iraq? Where's the talented hacker that granted himself a permanent secret agent position with us? This isn't the man that tried to electrocute me in Iraq." I could hear him take a drag on his cigarette with sounds of a helicopter rotor thumping in the background. The phone beeped a second incoming call from the Hobbit. "Give me a sec," I clicked over to the other line, "I'm not doing it. I'm turning around and getting back into that car and I'm driving back to the hotel. Then I'm getting back on that plane, no matter what, and I'm heading home." "Turn around, Agent." Behind me stood the Hobbit, clad in his trademark black Metallica shirt and black jeans, resting up against my rental with a Phoenix police car sitting right behind it. I closed my flip phone, and dropped it into my pocket. "You'll sour the deal with the po-po here." "And you'll sour the deal if you don't get those thoughts out of your head," he said motioning to the police officers to depart the scene, "whether you like it or not, you're government property and we need you to operate under any and all conditions, including flashbacks." I turned my back to him, "Fine, but you owe me." He settled himself into my passenger side and watched as I walked up to the door. Three knocks, then pause, then the code on the door, I thought nearing the door. I closed my fist and pounded the door three times, waiting a few seconds, then entered the unlock code on the keypad next to the door, and waited for them to retrieve me. The door opened and a short, thin man donning thick black rimmed glasses stood in front of me. He held out his hands, motioning for me to step inside. I glanced over his shoulder into the darkened room watching three shadows move about the otherwise empty room. I took another deep breath, and stepped inside fully unarmed and resting my entire life on the man sitting in my rental car outside. (Last edited by Zabuza on 05-03-05 02:59 AM) |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| Okay, mister venomouslobster, when my phone service is paid for, and I can upload the photo, I'll send you a copy. Until then, they are sealed within my phone.
Thank you for the slight appreciation...I'm just feeling a little lonely, but that has resolved itself for the time being. |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| OMG! Totally! On a side note: enjoying the Cowboy Bebop?
It's not so much that I'm just feeling a twinge of loneliness, but more like the couples convey that wonderful feeling so unwittingly that it both depresses and angers me. I'm happy for you all, really, but my sadness and sorrow shall be better remedied either with a boyfriend or a good session of writing/reading. I believe I shall take the latter since there is an absence of the former. I'll elaborate further on another eve on my personal journal. Till then, I bid thee huzzah. Yes, huzzah. |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| Join us on the dark side, Xeo, sometimes we have cookies...unless venomous ate them. In which case, we all hop in the gaymobile and drive down to some place and buy something else to suit our dark side image.
Anywho, joining us on the dark side isn't all that bad. We have full medical and dental coverage, and after two months in, we allow you to have one day of pure evil (or good, whatever works for you) about twice per year. Vacation is adequate depending on your level within the dark side, and if you like us so much to remain a year, we'll even give you perks as a recruiter. Then, you too can tempt fate by giving people the cookie line. Oops, I've said too much. Disregard all that. Anyway, **ominous voice**, join us on the dark side...we have cookies... |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| **In a monsterous display of dark clouds, fog, and ultraviolet lights, a dark trenchcoated man stumbles into the thread clad in similar dark clothings wearing dark sunglasses and carrying "The Brick". He moves toward the venomous thingy,**
Tag! You're it, **and moves quickly into the darkness as quickly as he had appeared.** |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| XeoJerk, XeoMadWithPower, XeoXeo, XeoDork, XeoLord (ooh, that one sounds cool), XeoOeX, XeoMegaGlobalCompuNet, XeoYasha, XeoPrius, XeoJunkiePoo, XeoStrongBad.
Nope, not hypnotized just yet, but you want combinations, I can give you combinations. And the union dues are murder, but we give you three months to actually do the deed. And, once you start, some find it hard to quit! Anyway, the dark side is currently full, but we'll have opening in early June. |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| Our school is a T1 line connected across three campuses, one of which is the university campus including all of its dormitories, and our speeds for upload/download haven't faltered too much. Maybe, it's just the safeguards that are implemented into your school systems. | |||
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| And gay is the new straight, but that doesn't justify your creation of BeoLand because you figured out that a single letter change would justify it. It simply doesn't, and no, your explanation--as usual--made no sense.
Xeo-sama is the supreme ruler of Nada. Proud ruler of Nada, and so proud he overlooks the important things like the prosperity of Xeoland and such. Technically, we can change two letters and drop another producing BeoBan. Or, change two letters and get LeeLand. But, I'm not that cynical. So there,  |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| What about those of us whom continue to masturbate without the holidays? Does that mean that I get to do it in public now?
I get the feeling that your "friend" is actually you, but okay. (Last edited by Zabuza on 05-04-05 06:28 PM) |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| I am as much intrigued by your pseudo-faith as I am intrigued by my much followed hacker ethics. Please, preach on more, oh Pope of the Hecklers of the Puritans... |
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| Xeogaming Forums - - Posts by Stitch |
