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I was really expecting somthing along the lines of 'three men walk into a bar...'

Three guys walk into a bar...

the first guy says "I would like to buy a drink for me and my buddy here who I just met"

the second guy says "wow thanks man! my tactical genius can use all the help we can get! thanks for helping out bro!"

the third guy says "what? no drink for me?! and starts pounding on the second guy because he got the free drink.

The first guy snickers and drinks the drink while the other two are fighting.

A story from 1d4chan about creed.

The forces of Chaos reigned victorious over the shattered city, littered with the wounded and dying Guardsmen of the Cadian 503rd. At their head, ready to deliver the killing blow to the last world between him and conquest, strode Abaddon the Despoiler himself, his Demonblade screaming as it claimed the souls of a score of men, slashing through the staunch but futile defenses of his feeble foe. He had won. Finally, after all these centuries, he had triumphed, and begun to finish what that weakling Horus had started! And now, now it was time to put the icing on the cake, and finish off that arrogant son of a bitch Creed, as he routed like a coward nonetheless!

Beside him, his lieutenants roared in delight, cleaving through flesh and bone and steel alike, and his bodyguard made a mockery of Imperial pride. Demons from the warp, incarnations of the entropy of Khorne and Slaanesh hacked their way through droves of fleeing shock troopers, and a flanking force of the Night Lords penned in those who were left, trapping them in a great valley.

his final carnage began in a great valley, the product of a near miss by a melta torpedo. A miss that had spared the Imperials yesterday, but sealed their fates tonight! Abaddon flung himself into the fray, cleaving with full strokes the men who stood in between him and his prey, butchering wholesale with his men. The Cadians fought like men possessed, like monsters cornered. Abaddon's men were possessed, monsters in truth as well as simile, and so fought harder still. When the last corpse fell, it was Abaddon who laid it low, sending that cloak, that cigar spinning to the ground with a backhand from his mighty paw. The heavyset, gray-haired man lay flat upon the graying mud, and a pool of blood grew around him. Abaddon felt his breath quicken, and kicked the Castellan over, to see his face as the Demonblade consumed his soul.

"I've won, Creed! I've beaten you, the Imperium is MINE for the taking! The galaxy shall burn! But not before I hear you beg, NOT BEFORE I HEAR YOU BEG!" His voice was torn with emotion, manic laughter struggled free of his throat. The figure tipped over, to lay spread eagle on its back. Silent, broken, and dead. An old man, slain by a casual blow from an immortal warrior. Abaddon felt something leave him. The rush vanished. Creed was dead. He had won... Yes. He had defeated the hero of the Imperium, but Creed was dead. And without ever even knowing that Abaddon had won. The united leader of Chaos knelt down, and screamed at the square-jawed corpse, howling in anger, in the hopes that perhaps his fleeting soul could still hear his words. "I. HAVE. WON. CR-" He froze mid-word, as he realized that the crater was silent. He stood, and thought for a moment that his men were watching him. He was mistaken, for his marines, his warriors, his cultists... Even the demons, were staring open-mouthed, at the crest of the crater that they had swept into.

For one nanosecond. For one fleeting, cursory micron of an instant, Abaddon was confused. And then he knew. He knew what he would see when he looked up to match their gaze. He knew what he would see when he looked up, and realized why Creed had led this defensive force personally, and why he had not boarded one of the Valkyries that had escaped, or a Chimera to flee. He looked up, to see the barrels of a thousand tanks, the crested figures of ten thousand men, the whirring shapes of countless hundreds of skimmers and fighters. He saw in the distance, the smoking ruin of his flagship drifting through orbit a hundred miles away, and heard all of a sudden the unjammed signals of panicked screaming coming in from every one of his officers and aides.

Abaddon saw, before his eyes, his Crusade crumble. And he knew, without looking, the expression upon that fat old man's face, despite the shattered jaw and the broken neck. And he felt his last emotion before the guns started firing, and the torpedoes struck, and the lascannon-bolts flew. Boiling up inside of him, he opened his mouth, and screamed. And over the din of battle, though battle cannon roared and basilisk whistled, though lasgun cracked and Guardsmen cried out with tears in their eyes the name of their savior, no voice cried so loudly as Abaddon the Fool's, whose hatred of one man had cost him a victory that could have changed the galaxy, the one man whose name he now invoked. That magnificent bastard. That tactical geniu-

"CREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEED!!!!!!"

ok first yes i know i spelled my username wrong. how do i fix it? second thank you for finding that 1st Abbadon story i read it before and it still kills me (by the way what is "traction") and the second one was great. and to the guy who posted that black and white SP story... i am going to see if i can get creed to infiltrate Khran into your house/appartment to kill you. i am preaty sure that he can come op with something creative that has to do with something black and white.

http://www.gobiel.com/sonsofruss/cartoons/kharn%20playing%20chess.jpg


Automatically Appended Next Post:
Sorry that was a test to see if I could copy and past an image

here is the Eldread strory i found that inspiered me to create this thread:

So, Eldrad Ulthran is a dick. It seems shocking to hear and I know he is the guiding light of our people, but in all honestly, he's a total dick.
I know this because I served with him. You see, I am a Warlock. You can imagine my excitement when I was first assigned to his retinue. I took no heed to the fact his last set of Warlocks supposedly died in "a most ironic manner". I was young back then, only 19 000, and naive.

As soon as I met Eldrad in person he gave me my first order: "find a howling banshee exarch, and a witch blade for yourself, we are going to Setrus Prime (as the monkeigh called it)." He actually said the parenthesis by leaning forward and placing a hand beside his mouth to direct his voice to me alone. He is kind of a douche that way, we were in the room alone.

Anyway, Eldrad, the banshee exarch and I sortie to the planet's surface. I project some illusionary cover to shield our hiding spot and the exarch and I await more orders. Before us a great battle is being waged between a force of the monkeigh Space Marines and our fallen brethren, the Dark Eldar. About 20 minutes into the battle Eldrad points to a pebble by his foot and says "Move this small stone to where I am pointing now." He points to an innocuous patch of ground. Dumbfounded but trusting, I do as he says.

No sooner had I reached cover did a Space Marine bike roar past me, straight over the pebble. The mighty treads of the bike's wheels fling the pebble up into an empty stretch of air. It hangs there for a moment, then a Dark Eldar reaver rushes into it, the pebble sucked into its jet intake. The reaver sputters then bursts into flames, accelerating rapidly, right into a Talos. The Talos was not of regular design, not that any ever are. This one was a mass of spinning blades with a screaming humanoid in its center, the body of which was too mutilated to even identify its race.

I might mention at this point that Eldrad has not turned to look at the ensuing chaos, instead he is staring in the direction of myself and our howling banshee companion.

When the reaver hit the talos, all hell broke loose as the twirling saws of the unsavory machine broke free like angry daemons being exorcised. I saw one blade, bouncing and racing directly towards us at ludicrous speeds. And I am an Eldar, I know speed. I brace my witch blade for the impact readying myself to take the blow, to save the farseer in my protection. The blades hit and both the saw and the witch blade veer off directly towards the banshee exarch. Both blades merely graze her, just deep enough to cut the restraints that hold her costume on. As her armour falls away exposing her breasts, I realize why Eldrad was staring at her. He giggles, then orders a full retreat.

What a dick.

So Eldrad is a huge dick, but I think I have proven that by now. What I haven't told you is that he is, without a doubt, the greatest psyker in the universe.

I never saw this more exemplified than when we went to deal with a splinter fleet of Hive Fleet Leviathan. The first thing Eldrad did was use his massive reservoir of power to redirect the entire hive fleet 0.3 degrees off course. At first we had no idea why, but he assured us there was a reason. 134 years later we encountered the swarm again, and now we saw his plan, the fleet was heading straight into a desolate backwater planet. Using yet more of his might, Eldrad hid the entire planet from the fleet's sight. This caused the entire hive fleet to crash square into the planet's surface. He then called for me and the rest of his retinue to sortie down to the planet, we had a mission.

Once on the surface the bleeding husks of charred hive ships loomed over us like cold organic volcanoes. And then in a clearing, we found our quarry, a mighty hive tyrant, its psychic eminence clouding my own mind like a thick whispering fog. Eldrad was not taken aback in the slightest, he stepped forward, unarmed, right into the clutches of the hive tyrant. He then began to emulate the hive tyrant's psychic powers, only at a much higher magnitude. He had made himself into a synapse creature of immense power. So much so he brow beat the mighty tyranid into submission. He then turned to us, tyranid leader in tow, and said, we are returning, we have what we came for.

Although impressed by Eldrad's mastery of the mind, we all could not stop pondering his master plan. Why would he need such a mighty beast? It was not till the next morning that I knew. Pasted throughout the ENTIRE CRAFTWORLD were pictures of the titanic monstrosity and its ..... titanic monstrosity resting on my face as I slept. I never even knew tyranids had genitalia.

What a dick.

You know, Eldrad Ulthran really is a dick. I've said it before, and I have absolutely no doubt that I will say it again. He has skill and power of heights that are only reachable, even for most Eldar, in their dreams, and how does he use them? He uses them like this:

Years ago, a minor Ork Waaagh sprung up and launched itself against the Mon Keigh world they call Lentak II. It's an insigificant planet by any definition except, apparently, Eldrad's. He summoned me and told me we were going to Lentak, and that it was of the utmost importance to see that a certain battle took a particular course. He also told me to bring along the best sniper I could find, adding that "He might come in handy," with a wink like he was passing on some kind of secret message. Typical Eldrad behavior, that.

So, we get down to the surface of Lentak and locate the "important" battle, in a rocky pass high up in a mountain range. Eldrad isn't wearing his helmet, the better to display the horribly annoying half-smile that's on his face the whole time, the one he puts on when he knows something you don't and is about to use that information. I'm busy projecting an illusion to keep Mon Keigh and the Orks from noticing us, Eldrad and the sniper are just watching the battle from the rock outcrop where we're standing. Finally, Eldrad points at a particular Ork nob riding in the back of one of their wartrukks.

"That one. Take off his ear. His *left* ear. Right...now."

The sniper fires, cleanly severing the Ork's ear. The thing roars like the beast it is, looks around, and smacks the Ork beside it right off the back of the bouncing vehicle. The fallen Ork doesn't even have time to stop rolling before it gets run over by another Ork on a warbike; the bike nearly crashes, and one of the bombs sitting in a rack near the back bounces loose and falls to the ground. Eldrad looks at it, nods in satisfaction, and motions for us to leave.

Five of the Mon Keigh years pass. Five blessed, beloved years, in which I do not hear nor see Eldrad a single time. I don't know where he was, or what he does when he's not busy being a dick; probably off seducing Tau or members of whatever other young race has caught his fancy recently. Anyway, those five years pass all too quickly, and then Eldrad comes back, contacts me, and tells me we're going back to Lentak II, just the two of us. This, of course, sets my teeth on edge, because I know he's going to do something unbearably dickish, but I can't exactly refuse the most important Farseer of my Craftworld.

Sure enough, we wind up back in that same mountain pass, watching a column of Imperial Guard troops march past. This time, we're down at roughly the same level as the guardsmen, but since there are only two of us, it's easy for me to project sufficient camouflage. Good thing, because Eldrad sure wasn't helping. I notice that the wreckage from the battle years ago hasn't been completely cleaned; some has been pushed up against the walls of the pass, some hasn't.

I belatedly remember the fallen bomb and start to look for it, but before I can spot it, a Chimera with a commissar riding in its open hatch finds it on its own. The explosion bounces the vehicle into the air, and the unsecured commissar goes flying. Shrapnel flies towards us and I dodge, rolling across the ground to avoid the splintered metal.

When I look up, I see Eldrad, standing with the sunrise behind him, posed like a statue with his head high and his fists on his hips. An instant later, the commissar's hat lands right on his head. And Eldrad, the dick, holds the pose and smirks at me. I almost dropped the illusion and let the Mon Keigh kill us both, but then I realized Eldrad would probably have some way of escaping even that.

Never in my nearly twenty thousand years of life have I met a bigger dick than Eldrad Ulthran.

So, I've already told you about how Eldrad Ulthran is a dick. You've heard it all, all the sad stories...except, of course, you haven't, because Eldrad constantly generates more indignities to pile upon me. I thought he'd give me a break after the incident Tissalk Secunda; he really went too far on that one, and after they finally stopped laughing, the rest of the expeditionary force were giving him some funny looks. I thought he wouldn't anything else so soon. I was wrong.

With the Grey Ones rising again to wage war against all life, many of our priorities have been shifted to meet this resurgent threat. Thus, when Eldrad said he was working on a project and needed the body of a Necron warrior, everyone assumed he meant it was for research into some kind of weapon to use against them. Under any other circumstances, getting the order from Eldrad to gather a raiding group together would have filled me with fear that I was going to be the butt of another joke, but even Eldrad has to be serious where the ancient enemy is concerned...right?

Besides, to be honest, I was too busy being afraid of the Grey Ones to worry about whatever dickish maneuver Eldrad must be planning. I've faced the Mon Keigh, the Orks, our fallen brethren, and the horrors of the Warp, and such foes do not frighten me, but the soulless enemy does. They're so...cold. Nevertheless, let it not be said that I did not do my duty when called upon.

We flew almost to the edge of the galaxy; myself, my handpicked force, and Eldrad, who actually acted professionally during the long transit. I kept glancing over my shoulder, literally and metaphorically, expecting his true nature to assert itself, but we reached the tomb world without incident. We landed on that ancient soil, and all my senses were screaming at me to get back in the ship and get away, back to Ulthwe and (relative) safety. But we went further. We went down into a tomb, Eldrad opening the way for us.

Down in that darkness, I was more scared than I ever had been in my whole life, all 19,872 years of it; this was one of the most nerve-wracking (if not THE most nerve-wracking) tasks I'd ever been given as a member of Eldrad's retinue. Eldrad had a device with him, a band of wraithbone he claimed had taken him nearly a year to create; he told us that it would keep a Necron in stasis, regardless of what transpired. He also said that our presence wouldn't wake the tomb world; I just had to cling tight to my staff and pray that he was right. Naturally, Eldrad being Eldrad, we couldn't just grab the warrior closest to the entrance and run for it; we had to find the "right" one, which meant walking for nearly an hour into the tomb's depths before he finally selected one identical to every other warrior and locked the band around its head.

By the time we get back to the surface, which took even longer than going in because we dropped that heavy Necron no less than four times on the way back, I'm a bundle of nerves, and it only gets worse during the flight. I can't sleep inside our little ship, knowing that soulless killing machine is onboard with us, knowing about the wars that they fought against our ancestors, and what kind of deaths the Eldar in those days met. It keeps running through my head that it's almost my birthday, that I'll soon be turning 19,873, and that I don't want to get snuffed out before I hit the twenty-thousand-year mark. That's no way for an Eldar to go.

The ship arrives back at Ulthwe the day before my birthday. Eldrad, grinning enigmatically, heads off to his workshop with the Necron, and I stumble up to my cozy dwelling bubble and fall straight into bed, still wearing the same warlock robes I've been wearing since the tomb world. Yes, it was nasty, like something a Mon Keigh would do. I was so tired I didn't care. If that Necron wanted to get me, it'd have to fight through half of Ulthwe to reach me, coming from Eldrad's bubble complex. I slept at last.

Not that it helped much. In my dreams, I'm back in the tomb, with Grey Ones rising to life around me. I run, but I'm trapped; I try to fight, and I get torn into bleeding shreds. I wake up, feeling barely better than when I got off the mission ship, and realize that it's my birthday. Congratulations, self. Outside my bubble, I can sense the collected presence of family and friends, come to wish me success in my new year. Well, you only turn 19,873 once, so I drag myself out of bed, toss my grimy robes aside, and head for the shower; I figure a little session there should revive me enough to at least face my well-wishers graciously. I step through the bathroom door, pull back the shower curtain, and the Necron is in my shower cubicle.

THE NECRON IS IN MY SHOWER CUBICLE. Poised as if to strike, hands raised and clawed metal fingers spread - that memory is one I shall carry to the end of time.

I do the worst thing I possibly could. I panic. I scream at the top of my lungs and run headlong...out of the bathroom...out of my dwelling bubble...and come face-to-face with my birthday crowd. While wearing my "birthday suit," just like a scene from an embarrassing nightmare. There's a moment in which everyone goes silent - everyone except Eldrad, standing off to one side, his snickering audible to all.

I suspect that they'll still be talking about this when I turn 20,000. Thanks, Eldrad. Way to ruin my birthday.

What a dick.

If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times - Eldrad’s a dick. It’s totally inconceivable to me just how much of a dick he can be sometimes...well, all the time, really. And for something to be inconceivable to me, that’s saying something, I’m an Eldar.

So this time, Eldrad summoned me to some contested planet on the outer rim and explained the situation. He said nothing of our mission except when I asked, but even then his answers were cryptic, as ever. I’d ask him what we would be doing on the planet, and he’d pause, then mumble incoherently, winking at me, or something like that. I thought at the time that the entire thing was just some ridiculous set-up that Eldrad was using to some trivial end, but what it was at the time, I couldn’t fathom.

We departed for the surface with nothing but some poor guardian who probably had no idea what was about to happen. I concealed us against a hillside as we watched the carnage below. The forces of Chaos were attacking an Imperial outpost in the valley ahead of us, which appeared woefully outnumbered. I now realized the gravity of our situation - this planet contained one of the wraith gates that linked through the webway to every Eldar craftworld in existence. Were that to fall into the hands of Chaos...

And at that point, I felt guilty for doubting Eldrad. The greatest psyker in existence, one of the most powerful beings ever to roam the galaxy - and I had dismissed this mission out of hand. I now knew that we could not fail - we could not let the planet fall into the hands of Chaos!

The three of us made our way down the slope, within metres of the battle, concealed by my illusion the entire way. Unobservant of us, a Space Marine Dreadnought lumbered forward, engaging a squad of Chaos Space Marines. The infantry threw themselves against the armored hull, smashing and tearing as best they could, but to no avail - the dreadnought tore each marine apart, one by one.

Then, Eldrad turned to the guardian and made the strangest order I had ever heard, in all my 19,873 years. “Fire at the dreadnought. Its right knee.” The guardian looked in horror as he let loose the rain of shurikens from his catapult, knowing full well what would happen. A single shuriken pierced through the metal joint, and the dreadnought fell forward onto a stray grenade from a dead Chaos Space Marine, and the entire machine exploded in a dizzying spray of shrapnel. I held up my witchblade, averting what I could while my rune armor deflected the rest. Only a few bits of metal managed to scrape against my exposed face. I turned to face Eldrad, to ask the reason for destroying the enemy of those we were attempting to stop, when suddenly, my stomach sank, for two reasons.

One, he was giggling.

Two, a massive squad of fresh Chaos Marines, led by a massive demon, was charging over the hill towards our position.

I screamed at Eldrad to turn, but he simply continued giggling. The squad closed in, until it seemed that our fearless leader would find his end here, when suddenly, the marines scraped to a halt, each one with its eyes on me. One by one, the entire squad, including the demon began to giggle, then laugh, then roll on the ground, guffawing uncontrollably. Eldrad snorted, then ordered a retreat. As we left the planet, I saw the Space Marine barrage annihilate the demon and his squad, buying the defenses enough time to push back the attack. The planet was saved.

It wasn’t until I got into my bathroom (and passed half the damn craftworld) that I realized that, upon my forehead, in impossibly perfect scratches and scrapes, were written the words “I SUCK TYRANID COCK.”

What a dick.



So, Eldrad Ulthran is a huge dick. But you already know that, I say it every day, sometimes twice a day because he’s just that bad.

So, one day I’m hanging out at one of the bakeries in Ulthwe, eating lunch while trying to chat up a really cute Howling Banshee when Eldard walks in. All of a sudden I hear a shout from the bakers (I think he was a Swooping Bagel Exarch) and a loud bang as one of the wraithovens in the back explodes. Out of nowhere a loaf of bread the size of my head comes flying out, rebounds off the wraithglass window, hits my drink and spills it all over my pants, and then sails right into Eldrad’s open hand. He just gives me this smirk and takes a huge bite. Now my pants are soaked and the cute Banshee is laughing at me.

What a dick.

After I’m thoroughly embarrassed, Eldrad announces that we were moving out, this time to Cadia. So an hour later I’m flying the long way there because Eldrad wants to spend the trip chatting up that cute Banshee. My pants are still wet because he never gave me a chance to change them.

After what seems like forever we finally land on Cadia near one of those massive parade grounds the humans love, Eldard has the three of us cloaked under one of his illusions. Up on a huge podium one of their generals is shouting orders and chomping on a cigar. He’s got the biggest damn collar I’ve ever seen, even bigger than the one that Warlock who hangs out with Idranel has.

Anyway, Eldrad has us stand around and twiddle our thumbs for about an hour until he notices a commissar walking by to inspect the huge formation of humans. Eldrad turns to the cute Banshee and whispers something in her ear, and then all of a sudden she shoves me really hard on the back. I stumble forward, out of the illusion, and fall into the commissar, knocking him into the formation and sending ever single soldier toppling to the ground. Apparently one of those soldiers hit a Sentinel in just the right spot and it goes tumbling over into all of the others, which in turn collapse into the lines of tanks and transports like a massive game of wraithdominoes except for all the explosions. In a few seconds the entire parade is a massive flaming wreck.

While I’m frantically trying to get away from the commissar, who’s screaming about the ‘damned xenos,’ Eldrad drops the illusion and just shoots the biggest grin I’ve ever seen up at the human with the huge collar, who’s so angry that he practically swallows his cigar. Then the cute Banshee grabs ahold of me and the three of us hightail it to the ship before the humans can start trying to kill us. As we’re flying away I notice the mass of burning wreckage somehow manages to spell out ‘CREED SUCKS.’ Eldrad just laughs to himself like it’s the funniest damned thing in the world as he takes his seat.

Then we realize that he’s sitting on a Leman Russ.

Ursarkar E. Creed smiles to himself as he pulls out a fresh cigar. “Just as planned.”

What a dick.

Pointless 4chan-referencing thread is pointless.

Im not really sure what im reading here, is this some kind of 40K fluff humour or is this some other kind of 40K debate between Kharn, Eldrad and Creed 0_o

I read all that crap for nothing? Any MOD around to delete this Horrible Thread?

you guys have no sence of humur. That Eldrad post was just a funny story i found. This thread is for posting anything to do with Creed, Eldrad, and Kharn. LIGHTEN UP FOR EMPORERS SAKE!!!!!!

All this stuff is just copied from 1d4chan.

The jokes are funny when used in proper 4chan-style (aka as unexplained in-jokes). Other than that, these stories are OLD. Most of the people who find this funny have already seen everything here.

TBH, this is only vaguely related to 40k. It uses the characters and some background, but other than that, it's just more of the same 4chan "writefaggotry."

You keep spelling Emperor wrong. And please don't try to justify this as being a thread for posting anything to do with Creed/Eldrad/Kharn, because the point people are trying to get across is that that kind of thread is pointless. If you want to enjoy those kinds of stories, feel free to browse sites that archive them like 1d4chan and suptg, because a good deal of Dakkaites don't seem to see the need for this kind of thread. We don't need a place for posting these because there are already places that you can read them whenever you want.

In defense of the long story with silly punchline... does everyone on Dakkadakka have aspergers syndrome or something?! It's nice to have these stories and jokes and such all in one place, and I don't need to search all over the place for Eldrad humor, or Kharne humor or Creed jokes. Get over yourselves control freaks dictating what is and is not appropriate for a light hearted thread that may just not fit into your OCD box. I thought it was funny and enjoyable and I was glad it was posted. Is that a bad thing? (a bit long though)... If you don't like it don't read it and go do math hammer in your mom's basement instead. Geeks have a sense of humor, and a dislike for specific rules regarding their creative outlets. Nerds like to make rules for everyone else who is cooler than them. Which is... um... everyone else. Geeks are cool, dorky, awkward, and charming about it and get laid from time to time and such. Nerds worry about people going off topic in a lighthearted thread, get bent over the misspelling of da emprah, and become TFG at store games against 10 year olds. So get over it and appreciate the jokes. Dont like it? dont read it.

sorry to be brutal...
-Kharn

Guitardian thanks for backing me up. I just don't get why, if they don't like this thread, they even post on it!!! And so what if it was on 4chan, do they have a copyright on it? And can someone tell me how to post pix on a thread.

i like when it is well thought out humor, rather than this thou some of it can be funny the therapy one is good

Guitardian wrote:In defense of the long story with silly punchline... does everyone on Dakkadakka have aspergers syndrome or something?! It's nice to have these stories and jokes and such all in one place, and I don't need to search all over the place for Eldrad humor, or Kharne humor or Creed jokes. Get over yourselves control freaks dictating what is and is not appropriate for a light hearted thread that may just not fit into your OCD box. I thought it was funny and enjoyable and I was glad it was posted. Is that a bad thing? (a bit long though)... If you don't like it don't read it and go do math hammer in your mom's basement instead. Geeks have a sense of humor, and a dislike for specific rules regarding their creative outlets. Nerds like to make rules for everyone else who is cooler than them. Which is... um... everyone else. Geeks are cool, dorky, awkward, and charming about it and get laid from time to time and such. Nerds worry about people going off topic in a lighthearted thread, get bent over the misspelling of da emprah, and become TFG at store games against 10 year olds. So get over it and appreciate the jokes. Dont like it? dont read it.

sorry to be brutal...
-Kharn

I guess you've never been to 1d4chan.

They have all of this and more, all in one place just like you say you want. There's no reason to have this stuff on Dakkadakka. Besides, its OLD news.

A Space Marine Captain, a Sister of battle and a Commissar walk into the bar.
The Space marine Captain says "My soldiers are the bravest!" and orders a tactical marine to jump off a 100 foot building.

The Sister of battle says "My sisters are the bravest!" and orders a Sister of Battle to jump off a 200 foot building.

the Commissar says "Excuse me for interupting, but I think my soldiers are the bravest." The Space marine Captain andthe Sister of Battle looking at him like he is crazy as he orders a guardsman to jump off a 300 foot building.

The Guardsman says "Hell no sir!"

The Commissar looks at the others "Now that's bravery."

-BANG!-

Oh how i do love these threads <3

This is not a troll post.