Delegation to Somal

[KaiserMelech Mikhail]

Mikhail jumped for joy after recieving his reply from Mad Dog Bob. "Now, who do I send to this lawless and dangerous land?" he thought to himself. "Vlad, no he's out. Mike... no, he's too valuable. Pervez? No, he's the only one who can make waffles just the way I like them." With that, Lance the intern busts into the room. "Hello sir, everything goin' okay for you? Do you need some food or drink?"

"No Lance, I'm fine."

"How about a massage? Those feet look mighty tense."

"No, I'm good," Mikhail said, getting obviously annoyed.

"How about a newspaper? Good stuff goin on!"

"No! I'm fine!"

"Well, what can I do for you?"

Mikhail smiled as the idea popped into his head. "Oh Lance," he said, "how would you like to serve the kingdom?"

"Oh sir," he said, "my mom will be so proud!"

"Good, meet me at the TriCity Airport at 8:00 am tomorrow."

That morning, Lance arrived an hour ahead of schedule just to be with Mikhail. When the four more qualified members of the team arrived, Mikhail gave his speech.

"Alright men, you have been tasked with an important mission. You are traveling to a country rich in oil and aluminum, two resources we need, but cannot produce ourselves. I want you to be on your best behavior, and make sure this deal goes well."

A clearly hyperactive Lance got up and just started talking. "I like them. I love them! Before I even met them I like them! You all hate them compared to how much I like them..."

"Oh shut up, you are so annoying!" Mikhail finally yelled.

The team got onto the diplomatic airplane. Before the last guy got on, Mikhail pulled him aside. "Lance doesn't come back. Got it?"

After flying, and making Lance run up and down the aisle to tire him out, the team appoached M'Bossa.

"This is the Marscurian Pakistan diplomatic team, requesting permission to land," the pilot said.

Edited May 24, 2009 by KaiserMelech Mikhail I

[Firestorm]

A deep voice replies, "Permission to land granted."

[KaiserMelech Mikhail]

"Thank you, beginning our final approach." The captain then looks back to see Lance still running up and down the aisle. "Do you guys want to restrain him," the captain asked, "we're landing soon." One of the team members pulls a dartgun out of his jacket pocket and shoots a dart into Lance's neck. It worked... barely. The plane landed on the runway and the door opened. The team took off their sunglasses, despite the blaring sun. They needed to be polite. Before they exited the plane, a second dart was shot at Lance for good measure. "Ok," the real leader of the negotiations said, "let's do this." The team walked off the plane and greeted the Somal polititions.

[Firestorm]

Mad Dog Bob Denard is waiting for the delegation on the tarmac. His four bodyguards are no where to be seen as they are busy finishing cleaning up the mess from the recently departed Kingdom of Cochin delegation. Bob, wearing a pair of scruffy looking BDUs, stands in the unrelenting heat of Somal and waits for the delegation to fully disembark the plane. Once they've made their way to the tarmac he walks up and says, "I'm Mad Dog Bob Denard and welcome to the Republic of Free Somal. Why don't you fellows follow me and we'll get situatated in the hangar I've had done up for the conference. We've hooked up the biggest air conditioner we could find and have a spread of native Somal dishes for you."

[KaiserMelech Mikhail]

Mad Dog Bob Denard is waiting for the delegation on the tarmac. His four bodyguards are no where to be seen as they are busy finishing cleaning up the mess from the recently departed Kingdom of Cochin delegation. Bob, wearing a pair of scruffy looking BDUs, stands in the unrelenting heat of Somal and waits for the delegation to fully disembark the plane. Once they've made their way to the tarmac he walks up and says, "I'm Mad Dog Bob Denard and welcome to the Republic of Free Somal. Why don't you fellows follow me and we'll get situatated in the hangar I've had done up for the conference. We've hooked up the biggest air conditioner we could find and have a spread of native Somal dishes for you."

"Thank you very much," the leader of the team said. Three of the members walked right behind Bob while the fourth dragged a drooling, babbling Lance. They entered the pleasant hanger and grabbed some food and drinks, and waited for Mad dog to sit down before they did. "Now," the negotiator said, taking a bite of food, "we're here to talk, let's talk. Our first question is, what can we do for you?"

[Firestorm]

Bob tilts his head and looks at Lance for a long second. He opens his mouth to speak, but stops just as his lips move to form the words. He tilts his head the other way and looks at Lance again. Finally he asks, "Maybe I should be offering the services of one of our doctors for your associate?"

[KaiserMelech Mikhail]

"No, no, no, he's fine. He's just full of two darts of tranquil... um, tranquilizing adoration for you," the leader says with a big smile on his face. "Now, let's get down to how we can help you." He looks over to Lance, then back to Mad Dog, "Oh, and don't mind those convulsions," he says, taking a drink, "they're just happy spasms. They'll go away when his hopefully still functioning kidneys remove all the happy from his bloodstream."

[Firestorm]

Mad Dog Bob Denard stands up, looks the crowd over, and says, "I'll be right back" as he walks out the rear door of the hangar. He motions to his head bodyguard Danwi and says, "Give me my pistol belt." Bob's face takes the look of a man about to do some incredibly drastic. With deft hands he straps his pistol belt around his waist and pulls his well used and worn .357 pistol out of the holster. The fury on his face at the insult of Lance's presence is now clearly visible. Bob swings open the cylinder from the pistol, double checks to see if the 6 rounds are present, and swings the cylinder back into the heavy frame of the revolver. After sliding the pistol back into his holster he again motions to Danwi for his machete.

Danwi hands him the sheathed 18 inch steel blade and watches Mad Dog Bob Denard slip the weapon's belt over his shoulder. Unlike others who simply carry their machetes attached to their belt on their hips, Bob has the odd habit of carrying it slung over his shoulder with the butt of the machete easily accessible to his right hand as the weapon extends downward, in its protective sheath, toward his foot starting from his left hip. The astute eye could possibly note the blade of the machete appears well used implying a certain level of skill in the use of such a weapon on Bob's part. Bob isn't finished yet and he motions to Danwi again.

His gesture is rewarded with Danwi handing him a 12 gauge shotgun. Mad Dog Bob Denard swiftly loads five double aught buckshot rounds into the magazine of the shotgun and one into the chamber. The three inch magnum rounds take up more space in the magazine than the regular 2 and 3/4 inch rounds. However, they compensate by the sheer destructive potential of the rounds. Bob looks to his four bodyguards as they check their own weapons and says, "They've insulted me and they've insulted the Republic by bringing a degenerate drug addict to an official function. We'll give them a chance to leave peacefully, but should they resist you have my permission to kill them all."

Bob turns, walks back into the room, the shotgun pointed at the ground, and says, "Gentlemen, I'm going to have to ask you all to get the hell back on your plane and leave." As he says this his four bodyguards, and a meek cameraman who has a camcorder, enter into the room behind him and fan out to the left and right of him with their AK-47 rifles held in their hands pointed upwards. They are competent in their duties and skilled in the use of their weapons. The four men are all in good health and are experienced killers. Their faces are devoid of emotion as they are ready to carry out their duties, if needed, to kill every single person in the room other than their leader Mad Dog Bob and themselves.

The Cameraman takes up position getting a good view of the drooling and convulsing Lance and Bob and the bodyguards with their weapons pointed at the floor and ceiling.

Edited May 26, 2009 by Firestorm

[KaiserMelech Mikhail]

Not wanting to antagonize Mad Dog any further, they simply stand up, bow, and run as fast as they can back onto the plane.

"Go! NOW!" the leader yells at the pilot, who made his way down the taxiway. "The sultan is not going to be happy when he hears this."

When the plane landed, they rushed out to greet Mikhail.

"Well," he said, "it appears the negotiations were short. Did you get everything we needed?"

"No sir," the negotiator said, still clearly shaking, "we were kind of rushed out."

"Ah, rebels?"

"No sir, him," he said, pointing to an unconscious Lance.

Mikhail, clearly becoming very angry, whispered something into a soldier's ear and then got into his car and drove off.

Back at the palace, he wrote a letter to Mad Dog:

Mad Dog,

I am terribly sorry that the talks had to go down this way. In response to the dispicable insult that he gave you, Lance has been severly punished. Let's just say that what he recieved rhymes with Shmecapitation. I hope that we can resume talks when tempers have cooled down. As a gift, I have sent you a personal jet to use as your means of transport. I wish you the best of luck in the future.

Your friend,

Sultan Mikhail

Edited May 26, 2009 by KaiserMelech Mikhail I

[Firestorm]

We will be open to new negotiations in a few days time. However, I will come visit you, unarmed of course.

-Mad Dog Bob Denard

[KaiserMelech Mikhail]

We shall make the proper arrangements for your arrival. Hopefully, a positive outcome can be achieved this time.