Christmas

[HPFlashman]

Splendid stuff, FSN, in a "mad as a hatter" splendid way... 

[fsn]

Well chaps, I'm a bit put out today. As I was coming back home, the next door neighbour saw me. He's a big chap, a bit clumsy and doesn't really know his own strength, he's accidentally broken several of my things. Anyway, he was obviously on his way out as I was coming in, and he threw another Pendraken package to me. To aid it's flight, he'd attached the package to a brick, but as I say he's a bit burly, and I had no chance to catch it as it flew closely past my ear, and would you credit it, it struck the little old lady from the other side square on the noggin and she was manoeuvring her little wheeled basked out of the door. Obviously concerned, I rushed over, but everything was all right. No damage to any of the Pendraken goodies at all. Stout jiffy bags, Dave! (Actually, that sounds like a good nickname for him, doesn't it – "Stout Jiffy Bags Dave" – and so accurately descriptive,)

Let's see what we have today. Yes, well I guessed the first thing to flop into my hand would be this again. Been like that for days. Another addition to the lethal copse. And again with the Zouaves, and the little sods with their bristly beards and Brens, and big baggy shorts.

Ah that's more like it. More paint, this time from the "Surreal" range (because you're worth it). What have we got here? "Thought", "Time", "Balance" and "Equality". They're sort of – well, they're a bit difficult to describe. What colour is "thought"? have you considered shades of "Time", will it blend with "Equality" or if you've finished with that colour could you say to be "un-balanced"?  It's too much for me.

Another five figures, but what are these? Male figures this time – they're all Leon! How lovely! (Clib, this has to be you!) It says here they represent various aspects of Leon's personality. Well, we all know what that's code for! The first is "Leon the Thinker". He's depicted in a pose similar to Rodin's famous statue. Noble chin resting on hand. Really nice piece of work. Quite accurate to the smallest detail, which is very, very small. 

Next one is "Leon the Wise". It depicts Leon as King Solomon, with half a baby in each hand. Frankly, I think this misses the point of the original story somewhat.

Actually, can I just say that the detail on Leon the Thinker is so small that I had to get out the magnifying glass?
The third demonstrates how Leon has to deal with a multitude of tasks and competing demands on his time, it's "Leon the Juggler", and there he is playing with his tiny balls.

The fourth is "Leon the Lover", and all I can say is that's a beautiful rendition of the S10 gas mask I've seen in this scale. Really well done. Even the feathers are well sculpted, in fact the whole chicken.

The last figure has Leon dressed as a C16 Spanish explorer, more beautifully done feathers. This is ... of course, this is the "Ponce de Leon".   
What else is there? Ah. More of the benighted LoA gunners, and well this is more useful. It's seven delicate little models of the American version of the Schwimmwagen, a Jeep capable of taking to the water, if you would. Is that Leon driving? No? The Sea-Jeep (or Seep) is shown hull down, inn the act of crossing a river.

So, for this seventh gift at Christmas. Pendraken sent to me seven Seeps a swimming, six gunners laying, 5 not so top totty, 4 pots of paint, 3 French Brens, two Tonkin Zouave, and a Sniper in a fir tree.

I think I'll just have a nice cup of tea. My mother has given me this blend. I'm not sure I like it too much. Smells nutty, almost acrid, like bitter almonds and, do you know, it always makes me a bit drowsy afterwards?
Oh! Oh! The advent calendar. What is today's fact? "1724, Birth of Samuel Hood, English Admiral." Hope it's a sort of personality figure – let's just open the window, very carefully. Ah! It's a British battlecruiser, circa 1941 – and it's really quite broken.

So, I'm just going to sit here and read the latest edition of the Pendraken Gazette, incorporating the Dark Lord News and Playtank. Straight to the middle pages for ... that's disgusting! I've a good mind to write to the editor! League of Ausberg Tumbrel! Yuck! The whole centre section was much better when Playtank was its own publication. I remember my first. I was only thirteen so had to steal my brother's copy. Don't know how he got hold of it, he was only four, but the centre spread that edition was Centurion Mk III. I still get a lump thinking about it.

Here though, there's some news. Remember the film "Die, Marder" with Bruce Willis? Well the film was surprising well received, and the Marder's career has perked up. It's in a new Agatha Christie TV series "Marder at the Vicarage", and I see they're in panto in Middle-Borough starring in "Marder Goose". However, the article says, the Marder does not want to be type cast and is considering a career in music. Well, isn't that nice?
The sports section. Don't really follow sports much, but like to see how the British side is doing. Let's have a look:

Spitfire IX: Messerschmitt Bf 110.
Disappointing result this for the Brits. However it's nearly as bad as last time the two met when it was Spitfire V: Messerschmitt Bf 109 and since that time the Germans have really added mass and doubled their power, but that's made them slower so I though the Spitfire would do better. Could be because the Germans have boosted their defence in the rear. Still, Spitfire are set for a rematch and are going to replace Merlin at the front with Griffin.

Junkers Ju 88: Boeing B 17
This was a massacre that was expected. The German team had home advantage and it was a night fixture as well, and this Junkers Ju team are specialists. All the Americans could do was clump together, but they've lost their confidence after a few instances of home goals recently.

Churchill VII: Panzer IV
This was slugging match, with two heavyweights battering at each other relentlessly. It was a fair result, but the Panzer team was only rated Ausf A. Come the rematch, they may be Ausf H in which case the Churchill will beed to be wary of a much stronger offence and some additions to the defence of the Panzers.

Chi-Ha Type 97: Sherman M 4
Where did this come from? On paper the Japanese team are weaker in defence, shouldn't be able to trouble the Americans with their rather puny offence and don't even have the edge in their ability to move around the field. The only think can be that the Japanese team have the psychological advantage, with the Americans in unfamiliar territory, but who would have pyt money on Chi-Ha type? Not me.

[Fenton]

I think you missed one result from the sports section or did you deliberately leave it out?

Centurion III :T-55


Complete dominance by the Russian team as expected

[mollinary]

I think you missed one result from the sports section or did you deliberately leave it out?

Centurion III :T-55


Complete dominance by the Russian team as expected

Are you sure Fenton?  I thought one hundred and eleven was a pretty good score, and certainly more than the evil Russkies fifty five.   It was certainly good enough to give them a high scoring draw with Heinkel!   

Mollinary

[Fenton]

 

[fsn]

Stewards enquiry!

BTW Sorry about today's post Leon. No offence meant. You know it's all done from great affection, and because I've seen the photos. 

[fsn]

Well that's amazing! I've just read the news section of the Pendraken Gazette, (incorporating the Dark Lord News and Playtank) which is as always after the Readers Wives section (i.e where the spouses of forum members complain about the amount of time their husbands and partners spend painting and playing with Pendraken products - it's very funny) and I notice that Dave has produced a report and apparently, we're wrong.

There are no Leon clones. The muliplicity of Leons in due to the fact Leon started to divide into two spontanmeously. Dave has noticed that the process happens about once a month, and that during the process, the new Leons become just a tiny bit smaller. Obviously Dave is concerned and is desperately seeking a cure. Ever the eye for a chance, he has worked out that by mid 2017, there will be more than enough 10mm tall Leons for us all to throw away the metal and wargame with live Leons!

If he misses this deadline, Dave says that he will wait for another 2 years and then go into the 6mm market. 

[Techno]

And I thought I was mad !
Superb....Keep 'em coming Matey....You brighten my day.
Cheers - Phil

[Orcs]

This was the first thing I looked at when getting into work tonight!


This is brilliant, if more than a little mad.   Perhaps the fact that we all like it so much indicates we "the flash from the Pendraken mould"  are all less than sane.


I am sure I will be singing the wrong words to 12 days of Christmas this now  due to FSN, or is that actually the correct version. 

[Hertsblue]

This was the first thing I looked at when getting into work tonight!

You go into work just to read up on the Pendraken Forum? Nice work if you can get it....

Oh, and I refer you all to my strapline below.

[Leon]

You go into work just to read up on the Pendraken Forum? Nice work if you can get it....

Aye, it's not too bad... 

[fsn]

Not in work today, having a day off. Was roused from my torpor by the postman and my next door neighbour having a game of tig in the street. The postie was obviously "it", and was being chased with great gusto by the neighbour. They were obviously quite surprised when I opened the door to see what was going on. The postman was quite red in the face, and puffing so badly I was afeared for his health, and couldn't understand him when he panted out what I took to be some cheerful greeting, and thrust yet another Pendraken package in my hand.

What have we here? Another branch sitting assassin, the usual duo of Zouave buffoons, and the trio of hirsute Gallic automatic weapons carriers. Four paints – actually varnishes. The label says "Aromatic Varnish. Makes you armies smell authentic!" Excellent. We have "Unwashed crotch", "Cheesy Feet", "Drying Vomit" and "Halitosis". That's pleasant. It says "This Range is with acknowledgement to all the people who visited us at shows in 2013". Now isn't that nice? The note says they're looking to expand the range – "suppurating wound", "dysentery" and "gangrene" are in the offering, as are "horse sweat", "elephant dung" and "camel toe". I think we'd all like to get our noses into that.

There's also the five figures from the Top Totty ranges. What have we today? Ah! They seem to be cavalry figures, as their legs are splayed, no hope of standing unaided, but there are no horses. Perhaps they come separately. Actually these are rather wild looking figures, barbaric, wearing very little as per usual a brief skirt and an abbreviated top – perhaps they're meant to be cavewomen? They'd look rather splendid riding bears. What does the label say? Oh! My mistake. They're from the "Essex Girls" range. They're not meant to be on horseback, nor indeed standing.

Moving on, 6 more Ausberg gunners, and the Sea Jeeps – the more I look at it, the more I'm sure that's Leon driving – and here's something new. It's eight female regicides, all with a different weapon from a dagger to a bazooka like weapon. This one is quite charming, I think it's meant to have a vial of poison, or it could be a magic potion. There's one with two swords, very balletic; a chain like weapon, mace (far too large for the figure's spindly arms), spear, and finally a crossbow. Excellent range.

So, for this eighth gift at Christmas, Pendraken sent to me, 8 maids to kill king, 7 Seeps a swimming, 6 gunners laying, 5 top totty, 4 pots of paint, 3 French Brens, two Tonkin Zouaves and a sniper in a fir tree.

I've already opened the advent calendar today. It was an odd little figure. Looked like a dungheap, but you could see in it a little trapdoor, and just peeping out was a bearded face. This unusual little offering represents the capture of Saddam Hussein on 13th December 2003.  

From the bag today, I've pulled a book. This is a story book, one of those ones where you tell the printer the name of the person you're giving it to, and they print it with that name through the story. Rather sweetly, this one has my name on it, so it's called "FSN in Pendrakenland". Shall I read you a bit?  

                                                                             ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

FSN was feeling very tired. He had been painting Pendraken 10mm WWII British Paratroopers (codes BR10 to BR17) all day and he'd nearly finished. He looked through his magnifying glass at his work.

"How curious!" FSN exclaimed. "It looks as if one of the figures is waving to me!" FSN peered harder and harder, and became more and more convinced that one of the little men was waving at him. It seemed to FSN that the more the paratrooper waved, the closer he seemed to get. FSN leaned closer to the magnifying glass to get a better look. Closer and closer until *pop* FSN was through the glass lens and falling.

"A body falls from rest with an acceleration of 32 feet per second, per second." Thought FSN. "That means that in the first second I fell 32 feet, the second 64 feet and the third 96 feet. So in the first three seconds I would have fallen ..." At that point FSN hit the table. He felt sure there were serious injuries. He wasn't quite sure where his spleen was, but he was sure it had moved and probably ruptured in the landing.

"Frolicking student Cant." Said a voice. FSN wiped the blood from his eyes and started around him. The little figure that had been waving stood over him, but now he seemed quite tall, as tall as FSN himself.

"Did you just call me a frolicking student Cant?" Asked FSN politely.

"I did." Confirmed the paratrooper. He carried a Sten gun which marked him out as a BR11.

"What's a Cant?" FSN was trying to set his left leg, which lay at the unnatural angle he'd read about in many a murder mystery book.

"A Cant is an Italian aircraft. The Cant Z1007 Alcione,  or Kingfisher" the paratrooper added helpfully, "was a three engined medium bomber  used by the Regia Aeronautica from 1938 to about 1943." The figure scratched his chin.

"But, "he said expansively, "I was not, in fact, comparing you to a giddy Italian medium bomber in education."

"Really?" replied FSN. By now, he was sure that he had collected his major organs and that most of his limbs were somewhat back to normal. Just the massive blood loss to worry about. The paratrooper continued to stare dispassionately down at him, but had taken to scratching the back of his neck in desultory fashion.

"Nah." He confirmed. "It's a kid's book innit! I can't frolicking swear. The words are automatically edited with something close, but harmless."

"I see." FSN had stood up, and was experimenting with walking. He walked in circled until he realised that his left foot was the wrong way round. He bent to fix it.    

"Frolicking student Cant." He repeated under his breath, until the penny finally dropped and he grasped the true meaning of his companion's word.

"You tweet!" he exclaimed. Being robbed of one's ability to give vent to good old fashioned invective was going to be right frolicking irritating.

"Language!" Admonished the para. "My name's Bert, and you're FSN, the bar stand that frolicked up my paint job." FSN studied the figure. This close up the paint did seem to be a little erratic in its application. The Denison smock was, FSN could see, totally the wrong shade in base coat, with huge and garish blotches added, and one of Bert's hands went half way up his arm where FSN's flesh paint had been carelessly applied. Not only that, but Bert's face started at the back of his head and ended somewhere near his nose.

"I'm sorry." Said FSN, "but things look at lot different from up there." He pointed to the magnifying glass that loomed over them.

"You know the chaps down here don't half moan when you appear in that thing."
"I do my best."

"Do your best! Your brushes are a disgrace, your never clean them properly,  and they do makes sizes smaller than a 2 you know." Bert was becoming quite animated.

"I'm sorry ... " Began FSN, but Bert cut him off rather rudely.

"And you never stir the paint properly. Look at my right leg. It's almost glossy because you didn't stir the paint properly."

"The varnish will help there."

"Varnish! I've seen your frolicking attempts at frolicking varnishing. Satin! Satin! Blokes who've had it done feel like a right box of nonsense." FSN's lower lip began to tremble at the onslaught.  

"And as for this frock you've put on me ..."

"Frock?"

"Frock! Frocking! Frock! The little green particles." Bert was almost incandescent with rage. He lifted his head and shouted at the sky.

"Frock. It's OK to say Frock. It's a material used in basing." He waved at where his feet should have been, and FSN had to agree that the frock had indeed reached Bert's knees. How could he have been so careless?

"Frock! Frock! Frocking! Frock! Look it up in the dictionary!" Bert continued to vent his wrath at the invisible editors. "Come on! Frock! Frocking! Frock! Flock! Flocking! Flock! At last. Anyway, about this flocking ..." FSN had had enough. He began to cry.

"Oh! I wish I could go home! I wish, I wish, I wish I could be on the other side of the magnifying glass where I belong."

"Boo-frolicking-hoo. Dry your tears Mary." Bert, considered FSN, had not a trace of fellow feeling. "And I wish I could frolicking swear properly." FSN brightened. This narrative structure was not unfamiliar to him.

"Perhaps there's someone we can go to, someone who could help us! We'd have to undertake a perilous journey and some of you might die a horrible death, but I, as the hero am bound to achieve my goals and hence achieve redemption." Bert looked around uncertainly. He was the only 'you' in view.  

"Well, "he began, scratching his chin with his enormous hand. "We could go and see the Marder."

"The Marder? Is he some kind of magician?"

"More of a tank hunter that has caught the public's attention in the world of entertainment, but, " Bert snapped his fingers.

"Never mind, they'll glue back on." Said FSN kindly, "Do continue."

"But," said Bert, "the Marder must be able to get beyond the magnifying glass, he has family in Liverpool." FSN's heart sank. He knew what was coming.    

"There's the door to door salesman – Marder Someoneatthedoor, the one that provides bathroom products – Marder snobogroll and the medic – Marder sagrowthonmythingy." FSN sighed.

"Didn't you forget the showgirl – Lady Marder-Lade?" He offered.

"You don't half speak Rolex!" Ejaculated Bert.

"Well that's interesting." Mused FSN. "They will apparently allow advertising, and 'ejaculated' is also fine."

"We're getting a bit self referential aren't we? Perhaps we should introduce a new element to move what passes for a plot along?" Prompted Bert. At that moment, FSN became aware of a wriggling sensation where his left kidney ought to be. He reached around and detached something. It was a golden fish.

"Hmm." Said Bert, non-committally. "I wasn't expecting that."

"What kind of fish is it?" FSN was peering down at the fish, which seemed inn no ways perturbed to be out of water. "A cod, or perhaps a stickleback?"

"You know frolic all about fish do you?" Bert yawned and stretched his arms to show his superiority in matters piscine. "It's has cod-like elements I'll grant you, but I think you'll find that's a ling."

"Indeed." FSN started the ling in the face. It winked back, which was strange because most fish don't have eyelids. "It is a singular fish, but I don't see how it helps us." He sat and cradled the fish his arm and began cooing a piscine lullaby.

"I must take this precious Ling to Marder!" declared FSN, baring his teeth.

"You're overdoing it on the Marder puns aren't you?" Asked Bert.

"I have tried to stop, but I suppose I'll have to try Marder." Said FSN, not a little shamefaced.

"You've already used that one – "Die, Marder" – remember?" FSN nodded a guilty little nod. "Be grateful you didn't pick Nashorn."

"Bless you." They stood in uncomfortable silence for a moment, until FSN thought they would be better getting underway.

"Which way do we go?" He asked, looking around. Bert pointed to their feet.

"We follow the yellow plastic road."

"Follow the yellow plastic road?" Echoed FSN gleefully.

"Do not start. Be warned. Travelling the yellow plastic road is often dangerous."

"Are there lions, and tigers and bears? Oh boy!" Bert smacked him slightly harder than playfully on the back of the head.

"No. The yellow brick road is reversible. Turn it over and it becomes a river. Lost some good mates last year 'cos some frolicker left the road the wrong way up." He glared at FSN. "Wasn't you was it?" FSN shook his head in what he hoped was a convincing manner, and also to clear the after effects of Bert's friendly pat.      

"Shall we link arms, skip and sing a merry song whilst we travel along the yellow plastic road?" He asked brightly.

"You try and I'll shave my fast up your stoat."

So without linking arms, or skipping, Bert and FSN set out on the Yellow Plastic Road. As they walked, FSN began to sing an appropriate song ...

"So it's goodbye Yellow Brick Road,
Where the dogs of society howl,
Can't keep me in your penthouse,
I'm going back to my plough."

"I had you more of a Judy Garland than an Eltham Joan. Either way you're a bit of a posse." Commented Bert, shouldering his Sten.

[Leon]

 

Excellent!

[Fenton]

Very good

Bit disappointed you didnt a model of the Graf Spee in your advent calender though

[Techno]

 
Cheers - Phil