BigPapaBelial

Juggernauts (BigPapaBelial and kingkonrad) IC

Eric pulled his helmet off and threw it into the passenger seat. He tapped the button on his dash, which opened the second of the large doors to let him out. He then hit the clutch and stick of the beautiful German piece of engineering. He shot out of the garage, sliding into place behind Markus with ease. He cackled, "Oh baby, where have you been all my life!" He skidded a little on the dirt driveway, but as soon as they hit pavement it was like the tires were magnetized. They reached 64kph pretty quick. And kept climbing. Eric checked his rearview mirror. Then did something stupid. He made sure he had a straightaway in front of him. Then hit the clutch, the hand brake and as he spun 180 degrees, put the car into reverse. He lost almost no speed in doing so. He grabbed his MP5 off his side. Shattered the driver side window with his elbow, something he did with alot of pain in his soul, then stuck the SMG out the side, and spat rounds up at the heli. Making it juke.

Eric grunted, losing his firing window. He spun the car back around completing a full 360, just in time to drift the car around the one sharp left. He grit his teeth, looking out for that heli again, "I'll tell you, that pilot is a canny bastard. We need another straightaway man, we need to open these things up." He shifted down abit to slide around another minor bend. Trying to keep a safe distance behind his partner. He entered the tunnel behind Markus, juking a little as the heli gunner pattered rounds down on them. He chuckled, "I almost feel like I'm on the Combat course again..."

He pulled the car out of the tunnel and into that left, having to hit the brake too, that left coming up fast. But damn was he having fun, he could only imagine how his partner is doing in that McLaren. The Benz he rode in was made for this. He chucked the car into the hairpin, sliding around it, leaving twin tire mark around it as they went. He peeked out the side, looking for the heli, "Where did you go...where did you go...I can still hear him, he's around here somewhere. We need a tunnel, or a straightaway bad man. Once we ditch this heli we'll be home free." He kept to Markus' shadow as they drove. He bit his lower lip as they flashed their way down the road.

The Conflict

Laz kept the HK21 tucked up against his shoulder as they made their way through the streets. Dodging mobs of UPL and PUF soliders as they went. He didn't want to be caught unaware and without the ability to respond.

So when they spotted the pickup with the men around it he instantly knew what was going to happen. He boldly stepped forward, letting himself be seen by the second of the two men, knowing that Arran had the other. Arran's G3 would make short work of the other man. Lazarus' big HK21 would do the same. But he hoped to try and scare them off with Arran's shots. He heard to snaps, then a click. The second man did too, thinking he had them both. The second man was quick, he reached for the MAC10 he had slung from his hip. He started to bring it up. working the safety quickly, He had it in both hands, ready to draw down on Arran and his jammed G3. Laz beat him too it. He braced himself, and depressed the trigger on the HK21. The big beast of a MG roared. 7.62 rounds kicked out. Laz had been his JTF2 squad's autogunner way back when. He'd worked with bigger guns. Having pulled a Pecheneg off it's pintel once when his own FN Minimi had been blown away by a lucky shot from a sniper. Without anything but a back up SMG he had ran back to an emplacement they had burned out earlier. Salvaged the PKP Pecheneg off it's dented pintel, and had used that in place of his Minimi until the end of the mission.

The HK21 older then both weapons, but the durable, stable thing still had it's pros. The rounds he fires stitch right up the mans unprotected chest. Each big round ripping into him. And by the time he flies back a foot from the power of the attack he's nearly bisected by the bullets hitting him. After the quick and deadly little fire fight, Lazarus fell back on old training. He did a quick 180, and got down to a knee, sweeping their 6 o'clock, and checking for any enemy reinforcements having heard the gunplay. He scanned about for abit before getting up and quickly checking the man he had gunned down. Finding nothing of any real use.

As he hopped into the back as advised he smiled, "It's only the first that I think I owe you." He got comfy, then bullets began to fly their way from down the street. He looked over, seeing a mob of about 30 coming their way. He swore softly, crawling over and bracing the HK21 on the edge of the back of the Hilux truck. He then began to make a nuisanace of himself. He had a few rounds to burn. A little bit of supressive fire would helpt heir get away. So the HK21 started to bark again. The mob scrambled for cover as the rounds roared their way.

Then they were free, the truck kicking out of whatever rut it had been stuck in. He turned from the back seat. Tucking the HK to the side as they drove for abit. He then swore when they saw the men on the side of the road. Arran began to shoot. Laz reached up, pushed a hatch open on top of the hilux, and climbed up, mounting the HK on the top of the truck as they passed. He gave them men a growling blurt from the GPMG as they passed. If the shots from Arran didn't down them, the rounds from his HK21 helped. They drove on, he stood up there for awhile, braced against one of the carry rails atop the truck.

A little while later found him sitting atop the hilux. His weapon on safety, half empty drum mag lying beside him. The HK21 opened up so he could check the mechanisms within. The thing would do, but it's old, ill cared for, in need of a complete and utter cleanging from top to bottom and then some. He sighed, "You expected customs, I didn't expect even that. I got HALOed into the country, felt like a better idea then trying to cross on foot." He started to put the weapon back together. Then smiling, "So you're not Double O 69 or something? Damn. Yeah I was SF. You may not want to know, but I'll tell you none the less, for trust purposes. Joint Task Force Two, Canada's anti-terrorism, anti-insurgent specfial operations force. Until a few years ago nearly the whole world had no clue we existed." He chuckles a little.

He slid into the truck as they started to move again, "I heard Gold, silver, copper, diamonds. What with what happened in Bekalo, I'll bet any paper money either of us has, will be no better then toilet paper within a few days." As they drove he quietly wondered if he should share his little secret. He finally reached down and took off one of his booted. Upending it and tapping out a trio of silver coins, stamped with the Canadian Maple leaf on one side, and a beaver on the other, it looked like a trio of oversized nickels, "Silver, might get us some food and water when we get to Mokuba. I don't think it'll be worth weapons. For that, we're going to need gold, jewelry, maybe diamonds." He palmed the coins, and slid them into one of the pouches on the harness he had taken, "Just in case."

He clammed up as Arran spilled his ideas and plans out. He could relate. Ever since he left the Force, he'd been looking for money over all. He knew how the man felt. The money was a little more tempting then Queen and Country in his opinion too, "I feel you man. We've got a golden oppurtunity here. To come out with alot more then what I was offered anyway. But I want to find that bastard too. This Scorpion clown. See what's up with his ass. Then when all things are said and done. Get the hell out of here, make like a bandit, and blow this place faster then a black fly in Ontario." He groaned and stretched. "I'm not going to stop you from doing what you wanna do. I got my shit, you got yours. If we can still work it clean we work it as best we can."

He leaned back in the back seat, placing the HK21 at his side. Awhile yet to Mokuba. Atleast he wouldn't be going it alone.

---

Back in Bekalo, there were still flash fires of fighting going on. Major fighting had been limited to a few places in the city. Dozens of localized firefights.

One of the ring leaders in Bekalo had started to make his attendance in the city known. He began to give out orders. Suppress the fighting, keep it contained. He found a squad, a certain squad with a disguised former US soldier in it. He calls out to them, getting their commanders attention, "You, bring your squad. All of them. There's pay in it for you, if you can help me get to the other factions HQ alive. There needs to be a stop to this anarchy. I don't know who started it, but this will stop. Before this fighting engulfs the entire country. Once the fighting leaves Bekalo, it will reach Mokuba, and Paloe. And from there south to Port Selaomo, and there to Kijima, and then after that, Somalia might get into this or another nation that it so much better prepared. We need to stop this fighting now. Come with me. If you need more incentive, there is a handful of gold coins for each of you if this succeeds." HE started walking, not bothering to wait, trusting that the lure of money would be enough for the men to do their job.

Team Scimitar (an Over-the-Top Military RP)

Domenico paced forward slowly, followed behind by the VAB. It was hard, not impossible, but very hard for a flesh and bone person to fire the M242 while moving. The big autocannon was designed to be fired from a stable position like atop a truck or a LAV or something similar. Even Dom's prodigious strength wasn't enough to keep the massive beast of a weapon stable while moving and firing. He sure as he tried through. Making short work of any cover and out in the open baddies he could see. Inside his helmet a holographic HUD highlighted positions and people in his line of sight. It also flashed small arrows when his armor registered hits from rounds. It also let him know where shots were coming from even if he didn't get hit.

So when his HUD let him know where some rounds from lmgs and high grade rilfes were coming from he turned. The group with the AK12s and RPKS knew they were spotted and turned their attention to him. He got himself into a stable position. And instead of firing the big autocannon first he switched his light cannon on first. It was like he had just grabbed the sun, put it into a directed baffle and turned it's luminescence too over 9000 or something like that. A concentrated beam of light, so powerful that the light cannon actually made a click, then a boom, loud enough to be heard over the action even. The men caught in the high power beam throw up their hands, some of them bloodying themselves with their guns. Others tossing their guns aside to shield themselves from the powerful beam of light. Domenico switched the light cannon off quickly and put 6 rounds from the M242 into the men while they were still recovering.

Howard in the mean time has pulled the VAB up beside the building. And had gotten out. Getting into position atop the vehicle to provide supporting fire with his M39. It wasn't his Lynx. The M39 had a differant feel to it. Shorter, lighter, less of that pleasant kick to it. It had a cough rather then a roar. But he still worked wonders with it. A shooter behind thick cover, almost impervious to Domenico's heavy cannon popped out and kicked shots down at the man. Howard waited patiently, and as he popped up to fire again, Howard put a round right through his left eye, and blowing out that side of his head. Howard smiled, scanning for more targets. Ricocheting another shot into an armored building, and setting off a small explosion, that almost seemed to startle several men out and into Dom's fire. Howard smiled, he already got to thinking he'd be able to work quite well with the big man. Despite his background.

---

The elevator door opened, for a time, alot of the people thought it was one of the pilots having scrambled to respond to the team outside. Security personell in the lobby did nothing as Antoine in the suit stepped out into the lobby. They stayed trained on the main glass doors. Where Domenico was just starting to come into view. The VAB just behind him. They felt invulnerable at that time. As almost nothing the team outside should be able to pierce the skin of the suit.

It wasn't until she started to step on those security guards and lay waste to the insides of the building that they realized the problem. She started to cut through them, the chaingun cutting down distanced targets, the 40mil launcher ripping apart the interior of the building. And the exterior started to take some real damage when Domenico planted himself in the middle of the walkway up to the front door and started fire those 25mil rounds into the outside. Each explosive round ripping off metal and marble sheathing. Raining sharpnel down on the guards outside the building.

Dom grinned, "Well and I thought this team would be boring, here we are, a ghost in a monster shell inside, me a shark grinned mafioso, a wizard with a rifle and a man who knows more then I'll ever know. I can't wait to meet the rest of the team."

Antoine grinned and screamed over the radio, "You'll make an interesting addition I must say Mon'Amie."

Juggernauts (BigPapaBelial and kingkonrad) IC

Eric ducked out of the way, and immediately got body checked down a short flight of stairs by another man who had been hiding from them. The man tried to bash Eric's skull in with the butt of his rifle, but the plate on the front allowed Eric to weather the blows. Grab the man, reverse the positions, slide his combat knife out with one hand and stab the man multiple times, the sound of him cursing pretty loud over the radio the pair of soldier share, "You piece of shit, you worth cock, fuck a ferret in the after life you mother fugger!" When the Canadian looked up from reducing the man to a heap he played his eyes around a very large garage. He didn't hear the heli approaching until Markus commented on it. "Well hell, Is that like a QRF or something? Or did someone call in the Immediate Reaction Force or something?" He chuckled softly to himself, and fired on some mercs who came in from the other side of the garage.

Eric barked rounds out of the C1A1 sharply, cutting the men down. He slowly made his way across the garage to make sure everyone is down. As he does, he takes a 6.5mm round to the side. From one of the mercs who had hid rather then let himself get gunned down. Eric made damn sure to put him out. As the man flails, he grabs a tarp and whips it partially off a car as it falls. Eric blinks then whips the rest of it off the car, revealing a beautifully painted McLaren P1. He chuckled, "Shit dude. Get down the stairs near that wall I busted through. You need to see this! You were right about no financial responsibility. Get down here, you need to see this. I think I found our way out." He started pulling other tarps off more cars, revealing a Lamborghini Aventador, a Ferrari LaFerrari, and finally a beautiful, black, silver and chrome Mercedes-Benz SLS AMG.

By the time Markus joins him, well Eric is already drooling over that Benz. As soon as he sees Markus he pats the long slim car, "The Benz is mine. Picking anyone you want man, but this thing is my baby for as long as I can keep it. Geez I've heard of this thing, but never seen one in the real. Man, I think this is our out. These cars are made for speed, and I know we both renewed our combat and high stakes driving courses so we can outrun that chopper out there if we really try. But first." He goes around the room, planting timed explosives, on cars, on the walls, on as many surfaces as he can find. He then hops over, finding a container of keys, and immediately starts digging through them, grabbing the key to the Benz, and tossing the box over to Markus so he can get the keys to whatever car he wants.

Eric is already getting into the beautifully slim Mercedes and making sure it starts by then. Listening to the car rumble as it comes up. He pushes the face plate of his helmet up and grins, "Dude...this thing is clean." He chuckles, "Always wanted one."

The Conflict

(Alright I apologize, I didn't want to do this, but people haven't posted in the longest time. And despite me wanting to give everyone a fair chance. I want to keep this RP moving. Instead of killing people off, I will detain them. If those people who play them still want to continue and all they will have that chance. If they do not, those characters will be offed at a later date.)

The fighting turned out to be quite equal, UPL and PUF forces taking equal damage. Men dying back and forth. Whole blocks of the city turning into warzones. It had gone far beyond pistols and knives in some areas of the city as pintel mounted machines were set up, turning streets and alleyways into killzones of gunfire hail. SMall platoons of UPL and PUF soldiers spread through out Bekalo. It is no secret that Bekalo tends to be one of the first stops of mercenaries and gunmen coming into the country, looking for word, before they find a lead through one of the factions, join one of the few remaining military companies or even one of the really big PMCs that were starting to operate in the country. Those that didn't get out because they found a lead would hang about, paying for drink and food with what little they brought with them, trade after trade as days went by until they had to choose a side or leave before they are totally broke.

The factions know this quite well, and know that now is the best time to press gang or kill any of the mercs that don't side with them. So it was that a PUF mob made it's way to one of the bars on the far side of the town from Merc Alley, and there, raided it, taking several people as press ganged soldiers, and several other Mercs as prisoners when they did not say they wanted to fight for them. None of the faction soldiers cared much about names. But a few were taken who kept on calling their names. One said her name was Sarah. An older lady. Some of the men threatened to rape her if she didn't shut up and leave her to the scavengers who came after the fighting is over. The other a man named Micheal. Who nearly got pistol whipped for his troubles of trying to defuse the situation. Both people were tied up, gagged and carried out, dumped into a truck with other prisoners. All of them taken to a prison the PUF were setting up south of Bekalo.

---

In Merc Alley, Lazarus headed behind the hotel reception desk. Kicking open a locked door and finding an open window leading out into a back street, one that hasn't yet been engulfed in fighting. He looks over at Arran, "We have an out. We bolt out, then head for the outskirts, I'll bet we can find a jeep or technical along the way to get us out of here, I might even be able to find a weapon too. We get out of here and head out to Mokuba, find something out there. Ought to be quieter too." He looked over at Edward, "Stay safe okay? Hope to see you in the future."

At that very moment something hits the door of the hotel, someone outside trying to get in. Shooting began outside the front door as the fighting finally arrived.

Laz growled and hopped out the window. Falling a short 4 feet, landing in a crouch, sweeping his revolver about, checking to make sure no one is nearby. Then looking for a way out of the tiny little service alley. Just barely big enough for 2 people to pass side by side. There wasn't a soul to be seen thankfully. He moved out of the way, waited a few moments for Arran, then decided to scout ahead, As he snuck down the alley, he could hear the gun fire out front. The yelling and screams. As he made it to the end of the hotel wall, he peeked around, just as a man backed towards him down the slim little corridor between the hotel and the building next door. Lazarus inched back and waited for the man to get further down the small alley. The man opened fire with something rapid fire. As he squeezed out of the small Alley, Lazarus grabbed him, swung him hard into the wall, drew his trench knife and cut the man's throat with little to no preamble. The man gurgled and coughed in surprise and pain. He stared at Lazarus in shock as his life blood bubbled away. Laz just kept the man pinned to the wall until he twitched his last.

It was only then that Lazarus checked what the man had on. A second hand harness, with a drum-magazine on it, and two frag grenades. Lazarus quickly relieved the corpse of that harness. He then checked the gun. He blinked. He'd seen them in pictures, but never in the real. An HK21, a Cold War era GPMG. This thing coughed 7.62 rounds out of 100 round drum mags in some cases, there were more conservative 80, 50 and 40 round magazines out there. But after looking at the drums he knew that these are the 100 round ones. Checking the drum on the gun he found it to be at about 80 rounds left. Plenty. And the drum on the harness he now wears is full. Giving him 180 rounds to use until he needed to find more.

He turned to make sure Arran is still following him, and silently wished luck to Magnus and Edward. In the mean time he wanted to get out of here.

The Conflict

Okay...

Do I want to be THAT GM?

I don't want to.

But I'm going to say this here. Everyone who wants to remain in this RP post here in the OOC within the next day or so please. If you do not, I'll start taking liberties, and start offing characters. I don't want to be that kind of GM, but if it allows the story to start moving forward again I will do that.

I do not like doing this. But 7 days without a IC post is a long time. Too long in fact. RLCF true. But we've had ample time to post, along with a weekend as well.

I do not like being that kind of GM. Honest. It's against my nature.

Get on it please.

The Conflict

Well I was getting worried there for a bit.

Who am I to try and hurry people up.

I go by a rule. RLCF. Real Life Comes First.

Lord knows it happens to me too. In about a week and a half for instance I'll be back in court, trying to get the people who threatened my life a month ago convicted for it. When that day hits I'm pretty certain I'll be a wreck of nerves for a few days time.

So yeah, no worries. Just don't go completely dead. If you want to leave, let us know. Please.

Juggernauts (BigPapaBelial and kingkonrad) IC

Eric followed close, keeping their rear covered. He still held his silenced MP5 in hand, it wasn't the best for long range as he'd like. But it'd do in a pinch. He took a half step to the right, peering around the corner he's at. Lines up on the left hand gaurd. And with a careful double squeeze of the trigger, the 9mm rounds punched through the guard's left cheek, but didn't have the momentum to punch out of the back of his skull so they instead rattle around inside the man's head for abit. He dropped dead either way. Eric grinned broadly. Checking around the grounds really quickly to make sure they hadn't been made yet. He grinned broadly. Then cinched the MP5 tightly against his chest, he pushed his face plate down as he looked to Markus, "That didn't go too badly." He unslung the FN FAL off his back, worked the safety and cranked the loading bolt to make sure everything is in place. "And you're probably right. No financial responsibility. Guy probably has Ferrari's and SUVs and other exotic cars out the wazoo, and gives almost no thought to what it costs or even takes them out of first gear."

Eric trailed along behind his partner, "Twenty five or more guards? Shouldn't be a problem, not when we're kitted like we are." He took the other side of the door from Markus. Waiting for the thunder. And it came, the door vanished. Eric followed Markus in close. The pair had done this so many times in the past. It's why they had never been transferred to another team, they almost knew what each other were thinking. Eric came into the room and covered his sections. He had broken an older rifle out of storage for this operation. Not because it's more reliable, hell the FN FAL is a relic. No, because of what the rifle brought to the table. He could have chosen any 5.56mm rifle available. Or maybe a 6.5mm rifle, hell there were newer rifles that fired the same 7.62 round the FN FAL fired. But it is the ruggedness and pure awesome power the C1A1 brought to the table. When the FN FAL barked, you knew you were up shit creek. And it barked, and bit hard. The big 7.62 round tore through the armoring the mercs. brought with them. Eric had the rifle on semi-auto fire, so he could control the pacing of the fire rate. And it worked wonders. Two rounds a piece, pop pop. And they dropped hard.

Eric threw himself behind cover as a trio of AK-12s opened up on him. He rolled and came up, dropping the spent mag in his rifle, "I almost get the impression they don't like us crashing the party." He waited until Markus had given him a window, then charged across the lounge. Lowering his shoulder, and slamming through a decorative whicker wall. He took two men by surprise. The first one he put two rounds into his dome. The second man managed to swat his rifle aside. Eric grabbed him with one hand and slugged him hard. Then grabbed him with his other hand pulled him close and head butted the merc hard. Eric could almost feel the man's face distort. Eric drew the dual Hi-Powers, and used them to finish a few more men who hadn't yet turned towards him, "Massive TV, bet it's not even 4G. Not even HDMI ready either." He provided covering fire for his partner, but had to stop briefly when he clearly felt a 5.56 round ring off the side of his helmet, "Ahh putain de enfer! Ow! Bastard...that actually hurt."

The Conflict

Lazarus took a long deep breath snarling a little, "I got put in the clink over a misunderstanding. Everyone seems to think if you're white, and don't seem to have a accent that you're American. And American's seem to be held in pretty low esteem." He rolled his shoulder slowly to work out the kinks. He looked over at Arran, "I owe you a few here man, for getting me out of that clink. Not fun being holed up because someone is stupid enough to think you're something else entirely." He rolled his shoulders. Working those kinks out.

He sighed, "That's all we ultimately know about the Scorpion, his name, and what he's done in this country. We don't know who anyone is in the militias who might know him, we don't know anyone that has dealings with him directly or had previous dealings with him. As far as I know anyway."

---

It started more or less quietly. Two members of the opposing factions, alone just one on one met each other in an alley on the far north side of the city. It started with a more or less calm discussion over which faction had the better ideas and overall strength to truly lead the country. It was okay for awhile. Both sides of the argument agreeing to disagree at first. Two other members of the factions passed by, adding their voices to the little argument. It became quite friendly for a time actually. A canteen of the local whiskey started trading hands. Everyone was quite mature about it. When a third member of the UPL passed and made a very unbecoming remark. The PUF snarled, pointing at the man, telling the other two to get him back. So they could ask what the heck he meant by that. The two UPL shook their heads, they didn't want to start anything.

The PUF took that as them defending their idiot compatriot. A knife is drawn, one of the UPL drops as he's stabbed, guns are drawn. The shots making other members of the factions come running. No one knows the real reason behind. Knifes were replaced with pistols, pistols with rifles and shotguns. Molotovs began flying, grenades thrown. The fighting spread. Small groups of PUF and UPL engaging each other. The original meaning of the argument completely forgotten. This was the chance many of these men had signed up for. A chance to make their money, and to fight the people they thought were the reason the country is in a shambles. The fighting spread quickly. Groups of civilians hid in the church, in the basements of restuarants. A priest held off a mob of 30 UPL soldiers from storming the church, using the word of his god and a crucifix. But the fighting still continued.

---

A man came running into the hotel, and another in the bar. They both shouted almost the exact same thing, "The UPL and the PUF are up in arms. Groups of both factions are headed for Merc. Alley. They either intend to press gang any merc here who isn't a member of a faction, or kill anyone who doesn't want to join."

Lazarus blinked, "Shit...this isn't good. I'm a wanted man, Arran broke me out, they won't try and press gang us, they'll kill us. We got to bolt." He checked his revolver, "What do you say, we all make for the outskirts of town, find a car or truck, hell steal a technical, then get the hell out of here. Make for Mokuba, and once there, figure out where to go. This place is going to go up like a powder keg fast. If here are more like us, hopefully we can link up later."

As he finished talking the shooting grew closer. The sound of automatic rifle fire. The blurt of an LMG somewhere. The click-bang of a shotgun. The fighting getting closer by the second.

Lazarus winces, "Got to move now, before the fighting swamps us." He heads over to the door, peeking out it and down the street. The fighting hadn't yet made it way down the street, but trying to go out the front door wouldn't be a good idea. He looked back into the building, "We need a back way out guys. A door, a window, hell I'll settle for climbing out a balcony and climbing down the side. But whatever it is we have to go now! The fighting is at the far end of the street, if we go now we can perhaps outrun it." A bullet, wildly fired whickered down the street, one of the gun vendors outside letting out a pained shriek. And scampered down the road away from the fighting clutching a MP5.

Laz hrmed then closed and jimmed the door shut to give them somemore time, "Let's find us a way out. Gonna follow us close Mr. Magnus? Or trot your own way out?"

---

All across the city, a similar scene was playing out, informants and other mercs running into places where Mercenaries hung out and calling out the warnings about the fighting approaching, and anyone that didn't want to get caught up in it to get the hell out.

The fighting spread like wild fire, almost everyone who wasn't easily identified as a civilian or a member of one of the militias was quickly shot down or press ganged into one side or the other.

War had come to the country. And it'd only spread from here.

The Conflict

Working on a story plot post. It won't be done today. But I should have it up by tomorrow around noon I hope.

Baring any of those annoying, "Can't control for shit" moments you know?