>>94 I wrote that? Really? Jeez, what'd I been drinking? Anyhow, here's the one you found hilarious: ------------------------------------------------------ THE MILK “Aw man, we’re outta milk,†the Scout whined, upending the carton over his breakfast cereal. A few pathetic drops plopped onto the dry flakes. “I believe I haf a solution,†the Medic said from across the kitchen counter. “Herr Spy, come here.†“Non.†A voice echoed up from the drain in the kitchen’s tiled floor. “What’s that freak gonna do about us being outta milk?†The Scout frowned. “No offence, Spyfag.†“None taken.†The four-inch metal grating popped off of the drain, and something blue began to squeeze up through. Moving in pulsatile waves, like a balloon slowly being filled with jelly, the Spy’s head emerged from the sewer. It was followed by his shoulders, extruding from the narrow drain, and then by the French man’s arms, which brushed slime and creases from the previously impeccable blue suit coat. Finally, a thick sheaf of tentacles slithered out of the drain, slapping wetly against the floor as the Spy heaved himself into a semblance of an upright stance. The rest of the team, assembled for breakfast, tried not to stare. “Keep your ‘ands to yourself, Docteur.†“So, what, you have some spooky Spy way to get more milk?†The Scout looked quizzically at the former man. “Maybe steal it from the RED base?†“I do not see why you think I would, even if I could.†The Spy raised his chin, but it quickly sank again. “Mon dieur, ‘as anyone got a cigarette? Being some ‘orrible octopus is not easy.†“Smoking is terrible for your health,†the Medic smirked, then procured a pack of cancer sticks from inside his coat. “But you can have one if you allow me to demonstrate your milk capacity.†The Spy compressed his lips sharply, but could not tear his gaze from the packet of sweet, sweet nicotine. His hands, now with short sharp claws poking out of the tips of his gloves, were shaking. “Merde! Fine!†He grabbed at the smokes and jammed one into his mouth, momentarily revealing pointed, interlocking teeth. “For ze love of god, give me a light.†The Medic cupped the Spy’s hands possessively as he lit the cigarette. “Sit down, Herr Spy, if you vould be so good.†The Spy did not so much sit at the table as wrap himself around a chair. In the bliss of his first smoke of the day, the Spy didn’t seem to care that the Medic seized one of his tentacles and held it aloft. “Zo,†the Medic said, preparing to lecture his team. “In ze first days after ze teleporter-respawn-tomato-sandwich incident, before Herr Spy gained full control of his new limbs, I observed zat ze tentacles vould sporadically secrete a vhite liquid from ze tips. I analyzed ze substance, und found it similar in composition to mammalian milk, only vith more protein und less fat. Ze perfect nutrition, in ozzer vords, for ze fighting man!†Gripping the Spy’s tentacle, the Medic began to wring it out over the Scout’s cereal bowl. “Hey!†the Scout yelped, gaping at the bulging appendage above his breakfast. “Ow!†the Spy objected as well. “Aw, Hell naw,†the Engineer said, standing up to approach the sorry scene. “Doc, I respect you as a man of Science, but you musta never milked anything before in your life.†He grasped a tentacle and gave a firm, gentle downward squeeze over his coffee cup. “Oh,†the Spy said quietly. “What, like this?†The Scout seized a tentacle and yanked it toward an empty bowl. “Agh!†The Spy’s claws dug into the table. “No, boy, an’ if he was a cow he’d’a kicked ya. Like this.†The Engineer repositioned the Scout’s hands and guided him through a few strokes. “Ah-†the Spy began, but the Heavy broke in. “You do it this way, use more elbow.†He took a tentacle in his huge, warm hands to demonstrate. The Medic watched, fascinated, and copied his large friend. “In Russia, on collective farm, I milk hundred cow a day.†“Tha’s yer problem,†the Demoman opined. “Ye do it like a factory, no care, no tenderness for the puir coo.†He picked up a tentacle and slicked it tenderly. Holding his breath, the Spy sat quite still. “You are all WEAK!†the Soldier thundered. “The action of a man is bold! Sun Tzu said that!†He twisted a tentacle roughly. “Ooh-†the Spy moaned. “Shut it, crouton. You will sacrifice your individual milk for the good of the team!†He pinched a sucker firmly. “Oui-†the word was barely a whisper. “I’ve milked a sheep, and I’ve milked a water buffalo, but I never did milk a Spy.†The Sniper set down his coffee cup and gingerly twiddled the end of one tentacle over it. “Gentlemen-†the Spy began, in a slightly panicked tone, but he could not continue as his tentacles twitched and pulsed in the rhythm of his teammates’ caresses. Not wanting to be left out, the Pyro shuffled forward. The Spy gasped, “Non!†but the mumbling abomination wrapped his rubber-gloved hands around the last remaining tentacle and tugged the full length of the muscular appendage. “Ngh-†the TentaSpy’s eyes were wide in his flushed face. “Hey, I think it’s comin’,†the Engineer remarked as a bead of white appeared at the underside of the tip of the tentacle he was working on. The entire team sped up, trying to be the first to get milk. “Non- non! OUI! Mais oui! MON DIEU!†the Spy cried out. He shuddered, bucking uncontrollably as thick, creamy spurts of fluid erupted from every tentacle. “Hey, it IS milk!†the Scout cheered as the white ooze filled his cereal bowl. “Auh- please- no more-†the Spy begged as he slid off the chair, utterly spent. Ignoring him, the Scout shovelled a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. He chewed once, then spat the mush away. “Gah! It tastes like cigarette cheese made in a sewer! That ain’t milk at ALL!†“I think I coulda told you that.†The Engineer stared down at the sweaty, sated Spy. “May I have anozzer cigarette?†the TentaSpy sighed from the floor.