Chapter 1: Revelations![]
;; Aye uh, Ritchie, how much money we got left from your parents? We're gonna be out on the streets unless this rent is paid!
lemme see meng, uh...
That's my friend here, Ritchie Donovan, Been my friend since we were born in Oured, back in 1991. Sheesh, we're nearly in our 30's and so far all we've done is piss our years away doing fuck all. Just barely living by with my part time job and Ritchie's inheritance from his late parents (god bless 'em)
Now as for me, I have a degree in neurology, but uh, I've was never really a braniac of any sort, I just got it to appease my parents and be able to say "Hey, I've got a degree in neurology"
Ritchie ain't exactly the brightest guy around. He attended college only to get kicked out after 3 months for pepper spraying the English teacher. If I weren't around to keep him in check, God knows what he mighta done to someone or himself.
Aye uh, boss?
Yeah Ritch? What is? Any money left?
I think I might lost it all at the casino while you was at work.
....
Boss?
Come again Ritchie?!
Its gone.. I lost it all mayn
What the fuck?! that was supposed to last us three more years you dunce!
hey man, they said I could gamble and win big money, How could I possibly refuse that!?
You godamn idiot how the hell are we gonna keep this aparment now?! We're piss broke!
...
We could always join the Osean Airforce mate
The Airforce...?
Aye, thats not a bad idea ritch! We could become heroes like those razgriz guys, or the Emmerian's Garuda squad! and we could make off with a botaload of cash!
Yeah! Like Lagoona and KazGrease!
Garuda and Razgriz numbnuts!
sorry boss...
Ok, lets get signed up at the nearest recruitament centah and get to work!
Fame and fortune await us ritchie! with my smarts and your uh.... We'll live off the fame and retire with money flowin outta our pockets! I mean really how hard can flyin and shootin down airplanes be?
Right b0ss!
And so, our tragic journey had begun. Little did we know of the drama, the hardships we'd face. The emotional trauma we would have to bear, and the conspiracies waiting to be uncovered. This was the beginning of the rise of the Frugol Army!
Chapter 2- VS The Belkan Insurgency![]
After months of training, we were set to do our very first mission. The Yuke's had Weed factories and ganja farm set up all throughout northern Osea, Formerly Southern Belka, a little too close to comfort for the Osean Higher ups. So me an' Ritchie along with the rest of our air squadron, the Frugol Squad (or The 69th Tactical Fighter Squadron, to be more professional) set off to burn em down to the ground with FAEBS, Napalm, and a squad of B-2's. Ya know, the works.
We came in a little late to the briefing room however, and were humiliated pretty damn badly
Now if you clowns will sit down. Thank you. Lets get this briefing started
We've recieved reports of the Yukes infiltrating Osean land and setting up Ganja farms for exporting weed. Osean's have been effected near the border and the higher ups want this to stop before it taints the rest of the population. Now your mission objective is to decimate these ganja farms and factories. Blow the hell out of all targets! QUEBEC squad, you'll cover the B-2 squadrons. FRUGOL Squad, you help the ground forces in any way you can, taking down specific targets they request, and providing cover when needed. Their callsign is Bumbaclot 3-1. This OP is under the codename ‘Scorched’ This’ll be a great way for you rookies to gain some notoriety. Ya want money ya fame? then your gonna have to outdo our ace here:
...
Oh oops, he's dead. Anyway you get the picture here newbs. dissmissed!
Say Boss, why are we the only squad with only two people in 'em, you an' me?
Unfortuately, during training we did rather piss poor. The Osean Fucko’s was our nickname, becuase Ritchie would constantly crash on takeoff and I would constantly collide with other people's aircraft. How we passed? Well God only knows.
Hey fuckos Don't go screwing this up. This is a real plane, meaning you can really crash, meaning it'll cost real money, meaning it'll come outa your paychecks alright?
That's Tom, Quebec's squad's leader. Guys an cocky asshat. Over his career he’s managed to shoot down 64 planes, and because that he thinks he has the right to act like the top dog around here.
Yeah yeah go shove it tom, We won't fuck this up.
Ha! You guys didn't get your nickname for nothing remember? as usual we'll mop up most of the targets, you guys just sit there and look pretty, if you can even manage that. Hahahah he left snickering to himself.
Aye boss, that guy's kinda an asshole don't ya think?
Yeah, we'll show him though, don't worry Ritch.
-Southern Belka 0600 Hours. First Ganja Farm-[]
<<This is Quebec Leader, confirming sight of the Weed exports>>
<Bumblaclot 3-1 here, aye Osean fuckfaces you got us on your tracker right? don't wanna get shot in the ass>
<<Uhh, yes this is Frugol 1 we gotcha covered>>
<<All Planes listen up. This is your AWACS speaking. Callsign Goliath, You know what your objective is, make it quick and clean.I just recently got divorced! a Victory would help raise my spirits>>
Sheesh what a downer, I thought
<< Uh, This is Quebec 2 to AWACS. Do you notice something strange in the sky?>>
<<Radar is clean, I've detected nothing out the ordinar- wait a second... The sky is lighting up-! it's a meteor storm!>>
I looked up and noticed that the sky was raining fucking asteroids! its Ulysses part 2! ever since that disaster leftover meteors orbit around earth and will sometimes strike down to earth. But... Usually we can predict these kinds of things weeks before they actually happen. What the hell's happening?
<<AWACS Goalith to all Planes, escape out the combat zone and RTB! We can't deal with Ganja like this!!>>
<Ritc- Uhhh I mean Frugol 2 here, Frugol 1, what do we do?!?!?>>
I can barely maintain my plane much less dodge asteroids.
<follow me frugol 2 we'll head south!>>
<< all ground forces evacuate out of the battlefield and head for the evac choppers! Abort abort!>>
<Bumblaclot 3-1 here we are pinned down by enemy fire we are cut off! repeat we are....Ut off- *static>>
<<The ground forces are annihilated! We've lost 96 percent of our forces!>> <<How the hell we lose them that fast! Quebec Squadron give me a damage report!>>
<< My left wing is hit! Agh! I can't maintain course! shit, we're gonna fall! eject ejec->>
<<Quebec 2 is down! all planes maintain formation! follow my path out of here!>>
<<8 miles to the end of the combat zone don't stop!>>
<<Dammit! I can't die now I've still got money to make here!>>
<< Frugol 1 you fool is that all you care about?! no wonder you're one of the shittiest-! DAMN!>>
<Quebec 1 do you read? Damage report! Respond!>
<< Quebec 1 Crashed!>>
wow talk about a real shit show
<<2 miles, you're almost there!>>
<Frugol 1, Boss! I can't shake these Asteroids! I'm gonna graze the ground!>>
<<<Ritchie you idiot! raise your altitude! RITCHIE!>>>
<FWWUUUAHAHHHHH>>
RITCHIE!
<Frugol 2 is down, we've lost 60% of our air forces!>
<<Frugol 1, you are the only one left in your squadron! I need you to link up with Sabre Squad and retrograde!>>
<<No! He's gone down! that idiot!>>
<<Sabre 1 to Frugol 1, stay in my formation! We’re almost out of the asteroid storm!>>
Once we made it out the combat zone, we saw that we lost half of Quebec Squadron, Including Quebec 1, All the ground forces, and my only friend, Ritchie. I Barely survived. My plane being in shape was unable to land probably and crashed on the runway. I lost my arm.
Chapter 3: A World With no Pilots[]
Ritchie's dead? fuckin hell... What do I do now?
I'm sorry for your loss son. Unfortunately your in condition to fight. We'll have to discharge you.
Are you shitting me? How the hell am I supposed to become famous now?!
Beats me son. And frankly I couldn't care less. Get out of my Air Base!
And so, I became I drifting wanderer, living off cup ramen noodles. I would later moved to Farbanti in Erusea. There, I met someone who could help me get back into the limelight.
using what little money I had from my last paycheck. i decided to waste it all at a local strip club known as "Skykid's Gentlemen Club" While sulking at the bar, a man came over and sat next to me.
"So, you're Frugol 1, am I right?"
I looked at the guy like he was fucking nuts, its been a little while since I've been in the air, who is this goon?
After collecting myself from that surprise, I stared glumly back at my shot glass.
“What’s it to ya? I haven’t flown in two years, and I can’t fly now. Arms gone. And this prosthetic ain’t the same”
“Well what if I told you-AGH!!”
Suddenly the mysterious man clutched his chest, then collapsed. He’s been shot! Suddenly the roof blows up, and several men in military outfits repel down, armed to the teeth! They’re Belkans!
UNFORTUNATELY I WAS ASSSINATED BY BELKAN EXTREMIST AND EXPLODED INTO FART GAS.
-BAD ENDING-