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bOnEs
post Jan 5 2010, 04:51 PM
Post #81


doesn't play well with others...
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QUOTE (Stoic Person Eater @ Jan 5 2010, 11:45 AM) *
I haven't seen Sean drink yet.

I had attempted the mission where you break the guy out of jail, yet I couldn't find a way inside the building. I tried numerous times and kept getting noticed, even while disguised. That's when I went to doing side missions.

Also, I thought I'd be crafty and figure out a way to destroy 10 Nazi vehicles in 300 seconds - by pulling Nazi vehicles out of my garage. Looks like it only allows you to pull out one at a time (that's what she said), so that idea is busted.

Where are the races? Are they part of a mission? Haven't found those yet.

the races appear right after you finish the prison escape mission...

for the mission, use the doorway that doesn't have the general standing at it... walk right up past the two guards (wear a nazi custome of course) and plant a charge on the door that you can't get through... back out of there as fast as you can without alerting the guards... once the search radius disappears, walk back in the way you went before, the door will now be destroyed... you'll have to take out the two guards patrolling around the prison cell without being seen by the spotlights... once you do that, get the prisoner and just walk back out the way you came... i am beginning to find that stealth really works well if you put in the time and effort it takes to get it done...

sometimes though, you just gotta run 'n gun... but, it's really fun sneaking in biggrin.gif...


--------------------



QUOTE (Massacre @ Mar 15 2011, 01:24 AM) *
Oh, good one. The "you're on the internet so you must have no life" insult isn't moronic or unoriginal at all. You must, without a doubt, be a very important member of society, not at all a waste of the already barely valuable gift of life.

As is the case for everyone who takes issue with people who make them sad on the internet, you are one of two kinds of people:

You are exactly what you claim I am, and that is a lonely, pathetic basement dweller. You life is spent eating eight pounds of junk food per day, masturbating to anything you find online that's even remotely feminine, and wishing you had good looks and social skills. You continue to live with your mother until she dies of a combination of lung cancer and liver failure brought on by the chain-smoking and heavy drinking she used to cope with what a failure you are. Your mother mercifully dead and free of the living embodiment of failure she regretfully thrust from her loins, the bills start to pile up and you, unemployed and unable to pay these bills (of course), lose the house and everything in it. Somehow even more of a failure than you already were, you wander from place to place eating out of dumpsters and sleeping in your own filth until you finally die of AIDS, which you contracted from a diseased whore you scrounged up enough money to pay for, so you could finally lose your virginity while at the same time pretending that your mother was back in your life.

Or:

You are the type who was an athlete in high school, who was genetically doomed to be an idiot but managed to finish school and even get a college scholarship because you were so good at a worthless children's game. You went off to college with a suitcase full of polo shirts and condoms, the polo shirts, because you're a douche, and the condoms to prevent you from impregnating the dim-witted young college girls whom you could never touch without the aid of Rohypnol, a drug you refer to as "roofies" because you can neither spell or pronounce Rohypnol. You scrape by with borderline D's for the next four years, and leave the campus to go out into the real world where your realize you're not intelligent or talented enough to do anything of value with your life. Misery and minimum wage ensues for thirty years, then you blow your brains out, and your corpse, alone and forgotten, is not discovered until the smell of rotting flesh seeps under your door and your bodily fluids finally soak through the floor of your studio apartment and into the room below you. Your body is cremated, the ashes scraped into a garbage bin because there was no one in your life who valued you enough to pay for a casket, funeral, or burial plot.

You're undoubtedly one of the two, otherwise you would have better things to do than complain about the theme of a forum that doesn't care about anything you have to say.
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PabloHoneyOle
post Jan 5 2010, 05:05 PM
Post #82


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QUOTE (bOnEs @ Jan 5 2010, 11:51 AM) *
for the mission, use the doorway that doesn't have the general standing at it... walk right up past the two guards (wear a nazi custome of course) and plant a charge on the door that you can't get through... back out of there as fast as you can without alerting the guards... once the search radius disappears, walk back in the way you went before, the door will now be destroyed... you'll have to take out the two guards patrolling around the prison cell without being seen by the spotlights... once you do that, get the prisoner and just walk back out the way you came... i am beginning to find that stealth really works well if you put in the time and effort it takes to get it done...

sometimes though, you just gotta run 'n gun... but, it's really fun sneaking in biggrin.gif...

Ah, yeah I kept walking up to that gate door and couldn't figure out how to get through it. Explosives, OF COURSE!
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bOnEs
post Jan 5 2010, 05:24 PM
Post #83


doesn't play well with others...
*********

Group: Staff
Posts: 2,316
Joined: 28-March 08
From: michigan...
Member No.: 38,893
XBL Gamertag: your mother...
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Xfire Identity: i said your mother!!



QUOTE (Stoic Person Eater @ Jan 5 2010, 12:05 PM) *
QUOTE (bOnEs @ Jan 5 2010, 11:51 AM) *
for the mission, use the doorway that doesn't have the general standing at it... walk right up past the two guards (wear a nazi custome of course) and plant a charge on the door that you can't get through... back out of there as fast as you can without alerting the guards... once the search radius disappears, walk back in the way you went before, the door will now be destroyed... you'll have to take out the two guards patrolling around the prison cell without being seen by the spotlights... once you do that, get the prisoner and just walk back out the way you came... i am beginning to find that stealth really works well if you put in the time and effort it takes to get it done...

sometimes though, you just gotta run 'n gun... but, it's really fun sneaking in biggrin.gif...

Ah, yeah I kept walking up to that gate door and couldn't figure out how to get through it. Explosives, OF COURSE!

you have no idea how many times it took me to realize that as well... i tried to the shoot 'em up approach a few times and failed miserably... then, i tried the disguise approach and couldn't figure out how the hell i was suppose to get in... next, i tried the rooftop approach but, there were guards everywhere and didn't work for me either... finally, after trying the stealth approach again, i thought to myself, "might as well try explosives... if it doesn't work, i'll just try something else i guess"... and to my surprise, it knocked down the door...

when in doubt, blow shit up biggrin.gif...


--------------------



QUOTE (Massacre @ Mar 15 2011, 01:24 AM) *
Oh, good one. The "you're on the internet so you must have no life" insult isn't moronic or unoriginal at all. You must, without a doubt, be a very important member of society, not at all a waste of the already barely valuable gift of life.

As is the case for everyone who takes issue with people who make them sad on the internet, you are one of two kinds of people:

You are exactly what you claim I am, and that is a lonely, pathetic basement dweller. You life is spent eating eight pounds of junk food per day, masturbating to anything you find online that's even remotely feminine, and wishing you had good looks and social skills. You continue to live with your mother until she dies of a combination of lung cancer and liver failure brought on by the chain-smoking and heavy drinking she used to cope with what a failure you are. Your mother mercifully dead and free of the living embodiment of failure she regretfully thrust from her loins, the bills start to pile up and you, unemployed and unable to pay these bills (of course), lose the house and everything in it. Somehow even more of a failure than you already were, you wander from place to place eating out of dumpsters and sleeping in your own filth until you finally die of AIDS, which you contracted from a diseased whore you scrounged up enough money to pay for, so you could finally lose your virginity while at the same time pretending that your mother was back in your life.

Or:

You are the type who was an athlete in high school, who was genetically doomed to be an idiot but managed to finish school and even get a college scholarship because you were so good at a worthless children's game. You went off to college with a suitcase full of polo shirts and condoms, the polo shirts, because you're a douche, and the condoms to prevent you from impregnating the dim-witted young college girls whom you could never touch without the aid of Rohypnol, a drug you refer to as "roofies" because you can neither spell or pronounce Rohypnol. You scrape by with borderline D's for the next four years, and leave the campus to go out into the real world where your realize you're not intelligent or talented enough to do anything of value with your life. Misery and minimum wage ensues for thirty years, then you blow your brains out, and your corpse, alone and forgotten, is not discovered until the smell of rotting flesh seeps under your door and your bodily fluids finally soak through the floor of your studio apartment and into the room below you. Your body is cremated, the ashes scraped into a garbage bin because there was no one in your life who valued you enough to pay for a casket, funeral, or burial plot.

You're undoubtedly one of the two, otherwise you would have better things to do than complain about the theme of a forum that doesn't care about anything you have to say.
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PabloHoneyOle
post Jan 5 2010, 06:08 PM
Post #84


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QUOTE (bOnEs @ Jan 5 2010, 12:24 PM) *
you have no idea how many times it took me to realize that as well... i tried to the shoot 'em up approach a few times and failed miserably... then, i tried the disguise approach and couldn't figure out how the hell i was suppose to get in... next, i tried the rooftop approach but, there were guards everywhere and didn't work for me either... finally, after trying the stealth approach again, i thought to myself, "might as well try explosives... if it doesn't work, i'll just try something else i guess"... and to my surprise, it knocked down the door...

I tried every approach as well. I'm going to blow the damn door off as soon as I get home.
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bOnEs
post Jan 5 2010, 06:20 PM
Post #85


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hell, even trying to distract the guards by blowing something up nearby didn't work... every time, only one or two guards (out of the many) went to investigate... it was never enough for me to sneak in... plus, once i got past the guards, how was i suppose to get in?! it's amazing that i forgot the name of the game i'm playing... and that's sabotage... explosives are the what this game is about...

This post has been edited by bOnEs: Jan 5 2010, 06:21 PM


--------------------



QUOTE (Massacre @ Mar 15 2011, 01:24 AM) *
Oh, good one. The "you're on the internet so you must have no life" insult isn't moronic or unoriginal at all. You must, without a doubt, be a very important member of society, not at all a waste of the already barely valuable gift of life.

As is the case for everyone who takes issue with people who make them sad on the internet, you are one of two kinds of people:

You are exactly what you claim I am, and that is a lonely, pathetic basement dweller. You life is spent eating eight pounds of junk food per day, masturbating to anything you find online that's even remotely feminine, and wishing you had good looks and social skills. You continue to live with your mother until she dies of a combination of lung cancer and liver failure brought on by the chain-smoking and heavy drinking she used to cope with what a failure you are. Your mother mercifully dead and free of the living embodiment of failure she regretfully thrust from her loins, the bills start to pile up and you, unemployed and unable to pay these bills (of course), lose the house and everything in it. Somehow even more of a failure than you already were, you wander from place to place eating out of dumpsters and sleeping in your own filth until you finally die of AIDS, which you contracted from a diseased whore you scrounged up enough money to pay for, so you could finally lose your virginity while at the same time pretending that your mother was back in your life.

Or:

You are the type who was an athlete in high school, who was genetically doomed to be an idiot but managed to finish school and even get a college scholarship because you were so good at a worthless children's game. You went off to college with a suitcase full of polo shirts and condoms, the polo shirts, because you're a douche, and the condoms to prevent you from impregnating the dim-witted young college girls whom you could never touch without the aid of Rohypnol, a drug you refer to as "roofies" because you can neither spell or pronounce Rohypnol. You scrape by with borderline D's for the next four years, and leave the campus to go out into the real world where your realize you're not intelligent or talented enough to do anything of value with your life. Misery and minimum wage ensues for thirty years, then you blow your brains out, and your corpse, alone and forgotten, is not discovered until the smell of rotting flesh seeps under your door and your bodily fluids finally soak through the floor of your studio apartment and into the room below you. Your body is cremated, the ashes scraped into a garbage bin because there was no one in your life who valued you enough to pay for a casket, funeral, or burial plot.

You're undoubtedly one of the two, otherwise you would have better things to do than complain about the theme of a forum that doesn't care about anything you have to say.
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Marney1
post Jan 5 2010, 06:30 PM
Post #86


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Didn't play at all yesterday but I'm getting on it in the next half hour.

Missions 31%
Freeplay 3%

I hate reading spoilers in a thread but with this game it does nothing to ruin it for me, it's as though your talking amongst fellow saboteurs who might have failed a mission but are coming back to tell you what the defenses were like and so you take that in mind and try for yourself.
My wife's at work and I've got nothing to do tommorrow so tonight's going to be a long night in Paris.

LOL - No pun intended.

This post has been edited by marney1: Jan 5 2010, 06:31 PM
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PabloHoneyOle
post Jan 5 2010, 06:33 PM
Post #87


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The variety this game offers is truly phenomenal.
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Marney1
post Jan 5 2010, 06:41 PM
Post #88


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Like I said before GTA4 1940's - but without mobile/cell phones thank god, nothing to desturb your sightseeing.
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bOnEs
post Jan 5 2010, 06:45 PM
Post #89


doesn't play well with others...
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every missions can be approached 3 different ways:

1) blow shit up and kill everything in sight...
2) sneak in and sneak out...
3) a little of A and a little bit of B...

maybe there's other ways but, these are the three i've implored thus far... i bet i could of beaten that prison mission by killing everything in sight if i would of taken out strategic guards that cause problems once the alarm goes off... yea, there's plenty of options out there to tackle a mission...

another way i just thought of... rig a car to blow, speed towards the gate bail out and watch the car take out the general and his goons... that sounds like a fun way...


--------------------



QUOTE (Massacre @ Mar 15 2011, 01:24 AM) *
Oh, good one. The "you're on the internet so you must have no life" insult isn't moronic or unoriginal at all. You must, without a doubt, be a very important member of society, not at all a waste of the already barely valuable gift of life.

As is the case for everyone who takes issue with people who make them sad on the internet, you are one of two kinds of people:

You are exactly what you claim I am, and that is a lonely, pathetic basement dweller. You life is spent eating eight pounds of junk food per day, masturbating to anything you find online that's even remotely feminine, and wishing you had good looks and social skills. You continue to live with your mother until she dies of a combination of lung cancer and liver failure brought on by the chain-smoking and heavy drinking she used to cope with what a failure you are. Your mother mercifully dead and free of the living embodiment of failure she regretfully thrust from her loins, the bills start to pile up and you, unemployed and unable to pay these bills (of course), lose the house and everything in it. Somehow even more of a failure than you already were, you wander from place to place eating out of dumpsters and sleeping in your own filth until you finally die of AIDS, which you contracted from a diseased whore you scrounged up enough money to pay for, so you could finally lose your virginity while at the same time pretending that your mother was back in your life.

Or:

You are the type who was an athlete in high school, who was genetically doomed to be an idiot but managed to finish school and even get a college scholarship because you were so good at a worthless children's game. You went off to college with a suitcase full of polo shirts and condoms, the polo shirts, because you're a douche, and the condoms to prevent you from impregnating the dim-witted young college girls whom you could never touch without the aid of Rohypnol, a drug you refer to as "roofies" because you can neither spell or pronounce Rohypnol. You scrape by with borderline D's for the next four years, and leave the campus to go out into the real world where your realize you're not intelligent or talented enough to do anything of value with your life. Misery and minimum wage ensues for thirty years, then you blow your brains out, and your corpse, alone and forgotten, is not discovered until the smell of rotting flesh seeps under your door and your bodily fluids finally soak through the floor of your studio apartment and into the room below you. Your body is cremated, the ashes scraped into a garbage bin because there was no one in your life who valued you enough to pay for a casket, funeral, or burial plot.

You're undoubtedly one of the two, otherwise you would have better things to do than complain about the theme of a forum that doesn't care about anything you have to say.
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PabloHoneyOle
post Jan 5 2010, 07:48 PM
Post #90


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I enjoy sniping everyone possible, from a rooftop if possible. I'm rocking the Scoped Steiner most of the time. I've taken out quite a few generals without their guards even knowing what happened. Suspicion zone means nothing when you're nine stories up. I also like taking out the snipers in the occupation towers/sniper nests before I blow them up.

Has anyone done anything with the RESISTANCE or GETAWAY features of the game? On 360, you press select and up or down (left to remove disguise). When you trigger Resistance or Getaway, it gives you a target for a spawn point. I haven't used it yet, curious if anyone has established any value in either.
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bOnEs
post Jan 5 2010, 08:08 PM
Post #91


doesn't play well with others...
*********

Group: Staff
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From: michigan...
Member No.: 38,893
XBL Gamertag: your mother...
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Xfire Identity: i said your mother!!



i've used the getaway one... pretty nifty to have the car of your choice (selected back at the garage) delivered to you... i haven't used the resistance yet because, i fear they will blow my cover... i'm a sneaky person for the most part... i need to try em out one of these times...


--------------------



QUOTE (Massacre @ Mar 15 2011, 01:24 AM) *
Oh, good one. The "you're on the internet so you must have no life" insult isn't moronic or unoriginal at all. You must, without a doubt, be a very important member of society, not at all a waste of the already barely valuable gift of life.

As is the case for everyone who takes issue with people who make them sad on the internet, you are one of two kinds of people:

You are exactly what you claim I am, and that is a lonely, pathetic basement dweller. You life is spent eating eight pounds of junk food per day, masturbating to anything you find online that's even remotely feminine, and wishing you had good looks and social skills. You continue to live with your mother until she dies of a combination of lung cancer and liver failure brought on by the chain-smoking and heavy drinking she used to cope with what a failure you are. Your mother mercifully dead and free of the living embodiment of failure she regretfully thrust from her loins, the bills start to pile up and you, unemployed and unable to pay these bills (of course), lose the house and everything in it. Somehow even more of a failure than you already were, you wander from place to place eating out of dumpsters and sleeping in your own filth until you finally die of AIDS, which you contracted from a diseased whore you scrounged up enough money to pay for, so you could finally lose your virginity while at the same time pretending that your mother was back in your life.

Or:

You are the type who was an athlete in high school, who was genetically doomed to be an idiot but managed to finish school and even get a college scholarship because you were so good at a worthless children's game. You went off to college with a suitcase full of polo shirts and condoms, the polo shirts, because you're a douche, and the condoms to prevent you from impregnating the dim-witted young college girls whom you could never touch without the aid of Rohypnol, a drug you refer to as "roofies" because you can neither spell or pronounce Rohypnol. You scrape by with borderline D's for the next four years, and leave the campus to go out into the real world where your realize you're not intelligent or talented enough to do anything of value with your life. Misery and minimum wage ensues for thirty years, then you blow your brains out, and your corpse, alone and forgotten, is not discovered until the smell of rotting flesh seeps under your door and your bodily fluids finally soak through the floor of your studio apartment and into the room below you. Your body is cremated, the ashes scraped into a garbage bin because there was no one in your life who valued you enough to pay for a casket, funeral, or burial plot.

You're undoubtedly one of the two, otherwise you would have better things to do than complain about the theme of a forum that doesn't care about anything you have to say.
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Marney1
post Jan 5 2010, 08:10 PM
Post #92


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QUOTE (Stoic Person Eater @ Jan 5 2010, 07:48 PM) *
I enjoy sniping everyone possible, from a rooftop if possible. I'm rocking the Scoped Steiner most of the time. I've taken out quite a few generals without their guards even knowing what happened. Suspicion zone means nothing when you're nine stories up. I also like taking out the snipers in the occupation towers/sniper nests before I blow them up.

Has anyone done anything with the RESISTANCE or GETAWAY features of the game? On 360, you press select and up or down (left to remove disguise). When you trigger Resistance or Getaway, it gives you a target for a spawn point. I haven't used it yet, curious if anyone has established any value in either.

I've had a car dropped off to me a couple of times and want to see if it works while I'm in the middle of nowhere like the middle of a field or something but I suspect it'll just get dropped off at the nearsest road.
I've tried calling for back up but didn't know what to do with the red/green marker that spawns but I'll try again.
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PabloHoneyOle
post Jan 5 2010, 08:34 PM
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QUOTE (bOnEs @ Jan 5 2010, 03:08 PM) *
i've used the getaway one... pretty nifty to have the car of your choice (selected back at the garage) delivered to you... i haven't used the resistance yet because, i fear they will blow my cover... i'm a sneaky person for the most part... i need to try em out one of these times...

How do you select your getaway car?
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Marney1
post Jan 5 2010, 08:49 PM
Post #94


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QUOTE (Stoic Person Eater @ Jan 5 2010, 08:34 PM) *
QUOTE (bOnEs @ Jan 5 2010, 03:08 PM) *
i've used the getaway one... pretty nifty to have the car of your choice (selected back at the garage) delivered to you... i haven't used the resistance yet because, i fear they will blow my cover... i'm a sneaky person for the most part... i need to try em out one of these times...

How do you select your getaway car?

At the garage vehicle menu it says at the bottom 'Set Getaway' you just choose which one you'd like, I've just selected the Altair.
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bOnEs
post Jan 5 2010, 08:50 PM
Post #95


doesn't play well with others...
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Group: Staff
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From: michigan...
Member No.: 38,893
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PSN Name: artistadam
Xfire Identity: i said your mother!!



QUOTE (Stoic Person Eater @ Jan 5 2010, 03:34 PM) *
QUOTE (bOnEs @ Jan 5 2010, 03:08 PM) *
i've used the getaway one... pretty nifty to have the car of your choice (selected back at the garage) delivered to you... i haven't used the resistance yet because, i fear they will blow my cover... i'm a sneaky person for the most part... i need to try em out one of these times...

How do you select your getaway car?

at the garage, look in your car inventory... once you hover over the car you want to use, press the button it says at the bottom of the screen for getaway (square on PS3)... swap out the car to what you want... you'll then see the "getaway" icon next to the name of the car, indicating that is your getaway car...

EDIT: yea, the altair is my choice as well... i wonder if that's a nod to assassin's creed because, it steals a lot of elements from that game...

This post has been edited by bOnEs: Jan 5 2010, 08:52 PM


--------------------



QUOTE (Massacre @ Mar 15 2011, 01:24 AM) *
Oh, good one. The "you're on the internet so you must have no life" insult isn't moronic or unoriginal at all. You must, without a doubt, be a very important member of society, not at all a waste of the already barely valuable gift of life.

As is the case for everyone who takes issue with people who make them sad on the internet, you are one of two kinds of people:

You are exactly what you claim I am, and that is a lonely, pathetic basement dweller. You life is spent eating eight pounds of junk food per day, masturbating to anything you find online that's even remotely feminine, and wishing you had good looks and social skills. You continue to live with your mother until she dies of a combination of lung cancer and liver failure brought on by the chain-smoking and heavy drinking she used to cope with what a failure you are. Your mother mercifully dead and free of the living embodiment of failure she regretfully thrust from her loins, the bills start to pile up and you, unemployed and unable to pay these bills (of course), lose the house and everything in it. Somehow even more of a failure than you already were, you wander from place to place eating out of dumpsters and sleeping in your own filth until you finally die of AIDS, which you contracted from a diseased whore you scrounged up enough money to pay for, so you could finally lose your virginity while at the same time pretending that your mother was back in your life.

Or:

You are the type who was an athlete in high school, who was genetically doomed to be an idiot but managed to finish school and even get a college scholarship because you were so good at a worthless children's game. You went off to college with a suitcase full of polo shirts and condoms, the polo shirts, because you're a douche, and the condoms to prevent you from impregnating the dim-witted young college girls whom you could never touch without the aid of Rohypnol, a drug you refer to as "roofies" because you can neither spell or pronounce Rohypnol. You scrape by with borderline D's for the next four years, and leave the campus to go out into the real world where your realize you're not intelligent or talented enough to do anything of value with your life. Misery and minimum wage ensues for thirty years, then you blow your brains out, and your corpse, alone and forgotten, is not discovered until the smell of rotting flesh seeps under your door and your bodily fluids finally soak through the floor of your studio apartment and into the room below you. Your body is cremated, the ashes scraped into a garbage bin because there was no one in your life who valued you enough to pay for a casket, funeral, or burial plot.

You're undoubtedly one of the two, otherwise you would have better things to do than complain about the theme of a forum that doesn't care about anything you have to say.
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Marney1
post Jan 5 2010, 09:00 PM
Post #96


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The resistance fighter who drops my car off is also a weapons dealer which is very handy when you're out in the sticks.
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PabloHoneyOle
post Jan 5 2010, 09:03 PM
Post #97


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QUOTE (marney1 @ Jan 5 2010, 04:00 PM) *
The resistance fighter who drops my car off is also a weapons dealer which is very handy when you're out in the sticks.

Did you buy the perk for that?
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Marney1
post Jan 5 2010, 09:07 PM
Post #98


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QUOTE (Stoic Person Eater @ Jan 5 2010, 09:03 PM) *
QUOTE (marney1 @ Jan 5 2010, 04:00 PM) *
The resistance fighter who drops my car off is also a weapons dealer which is very handy when you're out in the sticks.

Did you buy the perk for that?

Yeah, go to 'Upgrades' and choose 'Special Delivery' I think it costs 300 contraband.
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PabloHoneyOle
post Jan 5 2010, 09:10 PM
Post #99


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QUOTE (marney1 @ Jan 5 2010, 04:07 PM) *
QUOTE (Stoic Person Eater @ Jan 5 2010, 09:03 PM) *
QUOTE (marney1 @ Jan 5 2010, 04:00 PM) *
The resistance fighter who drops my car off is also a weapons dealer which is very handy when you're out in the sticks.

Did you buy the perk for that?

Yeah, go to 'Upgrades' and choose 'Special Delivery' I think it costs 300 contraband.

Yeah, I bought that last night at the end of my play. Didn't get to use it. Nice to know.
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Marney1
post Jan 6 2010, 01:04 AM
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Palais Royale; I was stuck on this for ages because the AA guns were no use against two of the zeppelins but they were OK to take out two patrolling ones about a mile away. I decided I was going to need some kind of rocket launcher so before I was about to leave to find one I threw a grenade (out of frustration) at one of them and it bounced on the top twice then exploded taking the fucker out too.
Facepalm moment then I did the same with the last one and because I'd been on it for so long it was so nice to see the colour return.

I'm so happy I feel like killing a civilian.
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