The failed sieges did not leave us lacking Liberal Funds. After that April 28th siege, I carted the armory to Hope's Pawnshop and surprised our local purchaser. As you well know, he's profited greatly from our ill-gotten loot, and the price of selling our merchandise to him is compensated easily by his silence. A valuable asset, he is, and our warchest would certainly lack were it not for his capitalism.
Which isn't to say the pursuit of money isn't a legitimate endeavor; I respect his right to pursue profit. My problem with extensive greed only enters the picture when government is consumed by it.
But enough about finances.
As predicted, the government returned with more soldiers, more firepower, and more threats.
In a shocking twist of fate, unprecedented in all of Liberal Lore, we managed to turn the tide of inva-- oh, who the fuck am I kidding? We beat the fuck out of them. Again.
Four of our brothers and sisters were worse for wear, however, so I temporarily reformed
Revenge in order to give reprieve to those deserving of it.
I took the reformed squad out to the Oil Refinery to tear down the Corporate Evil polluting our environment.
The mission could have gone better...
Yet, with the aid of marksmen like fergy, we escaped with nary a scratch. Fortuitous, indeed, considering the Death Squads-in-Disguise had arrived again to crush us.
But we remembered well all of the damage these so-called "SWAT" had done to our organization in the past. In this regard, we were Liberal Elephants: we could never forget. So, after another close shave with government officers out in the field, we decided to take the fight to them.
"Police Station"? What a convenient name for another branch of Ingsoc.
Our journey into the building, however, had been short-lived; not after we freed the Liberal prisoners from their ridiculously easy-to-access jail, we encountered a duo who recognized us for who we were and reached quickly for their weapons.
Access denied, bitches. But the alarm had been raised at the sound of fire. We made quickly for the exit...
...only to blunder into the greatest trap I had ever seen.
It's funny, Grimith; for as confident as I had been I would live to see Elite Liberalism reign in this country, for as sure I was I wouldn't see you for many more years... all of that vanished for a few moments. The government maintains a huge arsenal, so seeing all of those officers wasn't the problem; however, they sprung up out of the blue, totally catching us in an ambush, almost as if they were wearing... Police Station-flavored camoflauge! All six of us were taken by surprise, and I know, for several seconds, we truly understood the reality of our mortality.
Then I shot one of their arms off.
And we rode the crest of Liberal Justice to the top.
Our surprise assault put government forces into a tailspin as they struggled to reestablish control of the city and the region, which had become destabilized in the carnage. I made sure to guide
Revenge to take advantage of the opportunity...
...by snuffing horrid mutations at Cavill Genetics...
...Enlightening automatons acquired there...
...and...
...and...
...Let's move on.
Ivanson Garment Makers. The return of the properly-staffed
Revenge. We were ready to rock that bitch.
Hugo especially. His notepad conveyed everything the Security Guard wanted to read... and more.
Another afternoon ended after a bloody encounter with scattered fragments of "SWAT". Their disorganized efforts proved incapable of thwarting our escape. So our work continued unabated.
We found the Court House desolate and empty; we were hard-pressed to encounter anyone, let alone Conservatives, on our Quest for Liberal Justice.
When we finally located Conservative Forces, Hugo and I introduced ourselves. They, unfortunately, didn't survive the pleasantries.
"SWAT" came equipped with specialized Court House-camo. One team of Conservatives nearly ambushed us on our way to the exit.
Yet again, the automatons failed to prevent our escape.
Our actions undoubtedly inspired the Supreme Court to stick up for the Liberal masses and fight back against Arch-Conservative swine. We celebrated that morning at the swell of Liberal Heart which continued inexorably to fight the plague of Wisdom in our country.
Alas, Honorable Al North, who fought valiantly to preserve equal rights and opportunity in our nation, retired for health concerns. The Senate was more than thrilled to approve a Conservative - even a woman - to take his revered slot. The news had prematurely ended our party, and we hunkered back to continuing the struggle.
It started with acquiring a car.
Naturally, Conservative automatons attempting to halt this acquisition were shot.
And I got myself a Taxicab...
...which we promptly drove to the Ministry of Love...
Silly Agent of Arch-Conservatism. Didn't you know who we were?
We were
Revenge, bitches!
But the agents had some revenge of their own to deliver...
Valiant Hugo lost his left leg scrambling for cover against a duo of them. His tongueless cry of pain was accompanied by rage-filled suppressing fire.
I never vowed to be a miracle worker. But, damn it, we weren't going to lose another valuable Liberal to the cause. Especially not one who had proven, time and time again, to be one of the greatest assets for the Liberal Crime Squad. We carried him out the entire way, mowing down opposition who dared to challenge our retreat.
Sans one leg, he refused to surrender his rifle. A fine man, in Your spirit, who continued to give all he could for the Cause.
But I refused to let him continue full-time service in
Revenge. He had sacrificed so much for the cause, and it would have been wholly Conservative of me to force him to join us on-site all the time. So I mandated he oversee the compound and the others; if
Revenge fails in the future and yields no survivors, Hugo is sanctioned to carry the torch of Liberalism against the Corporate-led government.
He accepted his new position with distinction and grace.
Wenchy served as his replacement.
In the tradition of Selma and Rachelle, she did a pisspoor job at it.
But at least she provided a firm distraction for the Corporate automatons unaccustomed to seeing well-endowed women display such power in their Evil Headquarters.
Not that it had been good enough to prevent enamel damage to fergy and Halceon, but I can't truthfully say I expected much of her from the start.
So I gave her a break to evaluate her usefulness while several of the others, along with myself, tended to our new captives.
One group succeeded.
The other failtrained straight into the Atlantic. Damn it.
Naturally, we were obliged to release Arnold Lowerly from his bonds. He had the great fortune of recognizing his freedom and capitalizing on it rather than dwell in our base for very much longer. However, his actions failed to inspire another government loss: they were still reeling from the blows we had dealt and were incapable of launching an organized siege they saw worthy of challenging us.
Perhaps when they power washed the gore from the walls, they'd get it fucking right. Until then, we were inspired to manipulate the vaccum for our agenda.
In retrospect, I really shouldn't have brought Wenchy.
Women in body armor weren't quite the common sight at CEO Residence. And, while Kathy practiced the concept of stealth, Wenchy hailed from a career which left her wholly unprepared for successfully handling such circumstances.
However, I cannot, in good conscience, blame her for sparking the Conservative alarm. That inglorious honor rested on Doc's shoulders; an accidental trip on a luxurious rug, but that's all he had to do to startle the Guard Dog into Intolerance.
But we were the Liberal Crime Squad, not incomptent backwoods morons - how redundant!. We knew what the hell we were doing and told many CEOs to sit the fuck down... the violent way.
Yet the Corporate mercenaries were hardly so hospitable.
The mercenary's fire exploited weaknesses in Doc's armor. He died almost instantly.
I was highly Intolerant of Evil Scum then.
Doctor DeLorean was my brother.
I showed them all Elite Liberal Rage. I dared them all, every single automaton, while I shouldered Doc's body and wielded my M16, to fire at me, to take me on, to slay the leader of the Liberal Crime Squad.
Naturally, it was opposite day, so they blew off Wenchy's right leg instead.
She didn't handle the loss very well.
Neither did I, even while reading a brilliant front cover article by The Times this morning. In one day, during an anarchic time when we felt we were best equipped to strike, we were instead shut down and shot up by Corporate Mercenaries.
We are currently short two glorious members of the Dozen Liberal Legion. I will endeavor to replace them soon, perhaps after this conversation with you has ended.
Which, admittedly enough, is now, innit? Unless you have something to say, Brother? Some input you'd love to share from the feet of Lady Liberalism? Maybe some glorious inspiration, or a remark of how the martyrs have joined you in service and glory and are awaiting the time I'll meet you all once more? Do respond soon, Brother; we're certainly long overdue for such a conversation. Or will you remain silent for a while yet? After all, we're approaching the anniversary of your martyrdom. Are you saving your words for then?
I don't have any more time this morning to dally, Brother, so we'll have to wait and see. 'Til then: Prost.
Pariah, Audiolog: END.