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Dunbar

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About Dunbar

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    Official Lizardcommando Fanboy

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  1. They complain about game-makers not thinking of the children, when it is those who complain who have somehow purchsed the M-rate game for their 12 year old child. Go figure.
  2. Dunbar

    The War of the Worlds

    I really liked everything about WOTW except for the ending, which seemed to wrap up Mr. Cruise's situation a little too nicely. Otherwise, it was a pretty intense movie. Every new scene brought something to get tense about, especially the basement with that creepy guy. Also, the Tripods (especially in the scene where one first appears in that intersection) were severely badass and looked very, very nice. Ebert says he didn't like the design too much, but what the hell did he expect? This movie has received an 8.5 out of 10 on the Dunbar's Personal Movie Awesomeness Meter(DPMAM), with some points missing due to the overly happy ending, and the lack of more destruction scenes involving Tripods vs. Buildings.
  3. Dunbar

    Anybody play Jk2/Jk3 here?

    I play JK2 with the username "Dunbar" or something along those lines. I usually play on a "FLO" server or something like that where it's just a bunch of lightsaber duels. I'm hoping to aquire JK3 in the near future, but until then you'll find me in Outcast. Odd, I don't post anymore.
  4. Dunbar

    Writing Contest Number one (oh yes)

    I have something I typed up, and as soon as I find somewhere to host it, I'll have a link for you guys. Maybe while I'm still in a writing sort of mood, I'll finish up my fanfic series. Or maybe I'll go back to lurking. Whatever's easier.
  5. Dunbar

    Doom shotgun ref pics

    This reminds me very much of a request made by Chilvence some time ago... I tried to supply him with good pics, but I don't have a good enough digital camera to do it. Sorry, I do own the toy shotgun they used as a model, but I do not have the ability to take photographs of it. I'll see what I can do, though... so don't give up hope just yet!
  6. Dunbar

    The Incredibles

    Kickass movie. I'm gonna go see it again this weekend, hopefully. One thing I like about it is that it doesn't seem as quotable and repeatable as Finding Nemo became... which is good, because FN was ruined for me because it seemed everyone's duty around me was to recite that god forsaken sea-turtle scene along with any given line spoken by Dorrie. I'm still hearing people go "Just keep swimming, swimming swimming" It makes me a sad Dunbar.
  7. Dunbar

    doomguys pistol

    The shotgun is actually based off a toy, the Dakota cap gun manufactured in america by Tootsietoy. I own one myself. After much careful inspection, it's most certainly the doom shotgun. Just fyi.
  8. Dunbar

    Doom3 in Doom2?

    The new monsters aren't looking very "Doom3-ish" to me... especially the lost soul. It's not supposed to be a Demon skull anymore, like in doom/doom2. It's supposed to be a severed head with evil scary teeth!
  9. Dunbar

    What's your favorite sport?

    If paintball or airsoft are considered sports, then I pick those.
  10. If you haven't read chapter one, do so before reading this piece, otherwise it won't make as much sense as it could. http://www.doomworld.com/vb/showthread.php?s=&threadid=27274 And now, on with the show! ------------------------------- To Hell with Robots - Chapter 2 ------------------------------- Me and the tin can stepped off the elevator into the large, yet barren reception area for the laboratory. I was still shaken, and the fact that Mr. Roboto was still alive and kicking wasn't making my frazzled nerves get any more calmed. I heard him reloading his gun and doing a scan of the area, spitting out audio reports on the situation and our surroundings. I can only assume he was talking to me, but there was no way in Hell I was gonna go by anything that metal asshole said. As a member of the Human race, I felt I could examine my own damn surroundings perfectly fine. I looked around and admired the cleanliness of the lobby, with its comfy upholstered chairs and recycled old UAC Monthly magazines spread on the table in front of them, like money fanned out in a drug dealer's greasy palm. The walls were a stark white, with lights embedded in them that ran down the length of the room, casting the room in a sterile glow that made me feel sick. You know, like I was in a hospital full of people nobody would miss if they died. The floor was a cheesy blue carpet with the UAC logo reapeating across it, stretching from one side to the other, and merging with the wall in a dark blue strip of plastic that was designed to make you think the carpet became the wall or something. And to top it all off, the ceiling was a big dome that had the UAC logo etched into it, with the slogan "UAC Laboratories, Leading the Way to a Better Future." I felt like I was gonna puke more than I did on the elevator ride down here. I turned around and eyed the robot, subconciously leveling my rifle at his cold, steel stomach. He looked back at me with that frigid blank screen of a face of his, and began to inquire our objectives. I just stared at him as he went on about getting back to Whiskey Sector, now that Zulu was compromised, and calling for reinforcements. I bet any money that if we called in reinforcements a squad of robot pricks like him would be sent down. I love it. Humans aren't good enough for the UAC anymore. The robot could detect my displeasure of having him in my company, and started to question me about how I felt about the situation. "Corporal," he began in that Stephen Hawking tone of his, "I detect abnormal psyche readings from you. Your mental health is top priorit-" I cut him off by planting my gloved index finger into his shiney armored chest and growling out what the one with the real friggin' brain had to say about "mental health." "Listen up, you cyborg cocksucker," I spat into his 'face,' "Its MY fuggin brain, I'll tell YOU what's going on in it. First off I'm sure my mental health is the second to LAST fuggin thing on the UAC's priority list, right under 'Human Life' and right above 'Proper Funding.' They don't give two shits that I'm so freaked out right now I could kill myself with the gun I hold in my hands out of pure HORROR; that I just watched the men I fought with for over 5 years get mashed to fuggin PASTE by a bunch of goatlegged motherfuckers! You certainly don't care, you goddamn MACHINE! You're programmed to keep the UAC's losses to a minimum, which means monitoring my fucking brainwaves for signs of going batshit CRAZY! Well you know what I got to say to THAT?!" I ripped my hand away from him and placed both hands on the base of my helmet, sliding the locks out of place and hearing the oxygen pump hiss as it wound down. With a yell, I tore my brain-bucket off and threw it into the wall, small sensors dangling out that once stuck to the back of my head like a bunch of mechanical insects burrowing into my cerebellum for warmth. The robot jerked his head back at the sudden loss of signal from me, and by optical scanning, verified I was not dead as his little pentium chip he had for a brain had suspected. I stood there, feeling the recycled air of the facility against my naked head for the first time, and getting a full whiff of the smell of disenfectants and money. I spat on the robot's gleaming visor and turned around to head for the door that led to the rear hallways. Behind me, I heard the hydraulic footsteps of a bitchass robot trying to comprehend what I was doing. "Corporal Douglas Hicks," it addressed me with a tone it had donned that I guess was supposed to be 'angry,' "You are out of line. Please apply your helmet now and resume bioscannings or I will be forced to use extreme measures to make you cooperate." It stood with its steel plated hand on its holster, the 9mm handgun under its palm like the UAC fatcats' gigantic paws resting on a pile of money. I just glared at it over my shoulder and took its command into consideration. I replied by flipping him off and continuing my walk towards the double doors that lead into the facility. As I strode by the reception booth, I heard the robot yell out behind me for Corporal Hicks to apply his helmet, but I don't think Mr. Hicks was listening. As I stood by the doors, I heard a rumbling overhead. Judging by how many demons were pouring down that corridor, they must've been able to overtake the next few floors in the time it took for the elevator ride and my little outburst to finish. In a few minutes there'd be ugly-ass brutes stomping down our backs, and I for one didn't want an impromptu satanic body massage. I pushed open the doors and walked into the hallway, which was slightly less sterilized than reception room, and started for the elevators that would lead back to Whiskey Sector. Right now I was in X-Ray, so I didn't have far to go. Just one elevator ride and I'd be able to get away from this hellhole. I stepped into the hallway and let the doors glide shut behind me, muffling the footsteps of my little friend and giving me a moment to myself. I turned to the right and began my walk down to the elevators, reloading all my guns as I strode and wondering exactly how bulletproof that damn machine is. As I snickered at the thought, I heard the computerized voice of a particular metal bastard fade back into earshot. It jogged up behind Yours Truly and proceeded to turn its "annoy" settings to maximum. As it barked orders at me with the voice of an answering machine, I just kept walking, trying to ignore it. As we approached the doors that led to the observation decks, which we had to cross to get to the other elevators, I started to yell at my steel companion over my shoulder. "Just shut up, alright?" I snapped, "I don't think anyone cares about what the UAC thinks of my behavior. And don't bother shooting me, save your bullets for something as ugly as you are." The robot did shut up, and it removed its hand from the gun in its side. We walked through the automatic door into the scientific observation room, where we saw catwalks which overlooked the giant gleaming tubes full of various chemicals. This room was in stark contrast of the other rooms, where we had just pranced around in bright, sickening white, rounded off hallways, we were now in a large, long angular room full of dark colored machinery and various catwalks made of blackened steel. All around us were overturned desks, scattered papers, and spilled chemicals. Down below our walkway, several other catwalks and work platforms stood in disarray, as if everyone suddenly rushed out of there in one hell of a hurry. The rumbles we heard were louder now, probably in the floor above ours. Time was running out, and I wasn't going anywhere as fast as I should have been. "Come on, you automated dipshit," I yelled at the robot as I started a run for the far doors, "Those freaks could be on our asses any minute!" As I reached the halfway point of the superfluously long walkway, I heard another sharper rumble right above us. I craned my neck upwards and looked at the steel plates that covered the ceiling. A second rumble caused the dust to poof off the plates in great clouds, and a third caused a large bulge to appear in one group of them. Several smaller bulges started appearing, following other smaller rumbles. I gritted my teeth and cursed loudly, watching as a bulge appeared in the wall on the opposite end of the room, where we were headed. I gripped my rifle tight and broke into an all out sprint for the far doors, hearing the rumbles become accompanied by shrieks and growls. Behind me, I heard the robot keeping pace and beeping out readings. I didn't like how many beeps I was hearing, either. Just as we stepped onto the third quarter of the walkway, the door ahead of us slid open to reveal several imps standing shoulder to spiked-shoulder, the one in the lead hissing and readying a fireball. A bulge in the ceiling split and imps began to crawl down the sides of the sloped plates, hissing at the two of us and dropping to the other walkways. The minotaur dropped from the big bulge and fell quite a ways to the laboratory floor below. It was dazed, but it still saw my human ass gawking from the top catwalk. I cocked my rifle and took aim at the imps walking out of the doorway ahead of us, and as I lined up an imp face in my sights, I yelled out to the dumbass robot behind me. "Lock and load, you metal peice of shit!" End of Chapter 2
  11. Dunbar

    Non-Doom Monster Sketches/Magic Sketches

    Dude, this stuff is awesome. Draw more!
  12. Dunbar

    Bomb in LA?

    Where'd you hear this? Even a scrap of background info would be useful, specially with a title like "Bomb in LA"
  13. Dunbar

    what if they made oldschool doom figures

    The cacodemon would have like a fireball missile you load into it's mouth and can fire with a spring-loaded switch. The mancubus can do the same, but with two missiles at once! And I'd prefer comic book, cause they'd be more fun to play with. Duh!
  14. Dunbar

    Napoleon Dynamite

    I saw it, and it kicked ass. Everything was just so... quirky. I laughed, I cried, I played Dance Dance Revolution in the arcade in the lobby. All in all I'd give it Good Prize. I highly recommend it!
  15. Dunbar

    Check out my MGS comic!

    I liked it, and I beleive it taught us a valuable lesson. Don't pick up random stuffed lizards, for there is extreme risk of jugular vein puncture wounds!
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