The Cinderella Story

Battleship New Jersey - 1630hrs

I arrive at the BB New Jersey a little late and promptly set about looking for a group of 30 to 40 people on one of the biggest ships known to man. Despite the tour guide's not knowing anything about a "large body of video game guys" wandering around his ship, I insist they exist and force him to take me on the super-accelerated tour. Satisfied that the platoon size force has abandoned me for my tardiness, I give up. Two minutes later I hear some Australian guy talking to a hafl-dozen salivating adults about the tennets of driving an Opel. I have arrived.

After introductions and a few "Oh, you're Tarrif, that assh*le from the message boards" things go well. Docdoom is extremely cool looking in his leather "Fw.190 - Butcher Birds" jacket. We make our way to the parking lot and then to Dave and Busters.

Dave and Busters - 1755hrs

We took a nice tour of the Philadelphia ghetto (because we were lost) and I nearly collided with TheSnipe. Apparently I was too busy fondling my Glock 19 and watching for car-jackers that I forgot he was in front of me. The rest of us arrived at Dave and Busters without a problem. We spend the next 30 minutes trying to find everyone and get a table. Someone learns that ZZ has already capped a CP near the bar and we go off looking for him...

Side note...

ZZ is the man. Hanging out with ZZ is like playing with a 6'5" grizzly bear on crack. Naturally, ZZ and I got along very very well. We procede to both open bar tabs and start PWNING every drink in Philadelphia.

...back to the story.

People start arriving regularly and pretty soon our l33+ 8 man drinking squad is now 22 people. Tables are reserved but there's a 2 hour wait on them. No problem! Like any good GHC tactician, ZZ has secured us a place in the bar next to a bachelorette party FULL of hot women. We spend the next two hours getting people together and pounding all sorts of drinks. Just before dinner, and after noticing that special gleam in his dilated pupils, I decide me and ZZ should get a hotel room - in the same hotel as Docdoom.

With our night in Philadelphia firmly established, ZZ and I step up the drinking and order hot wings and quesdillas for everyone. Bar tabs begin to swell. Everyone is buying Docdoom drinks and he's getting a little tipsy - divulging important company secrets and such (did you know MO is gay?). Sgtspoon, our local Philadelphia gamer, shows up with his girlfriend and there is much rejoicing.

Finally, after two hours of oggling the hot women all around us, we move to the dinner table and start talking shop with Docdoom while he's trying to eat. I don't remember what exactly was said, but it went something like "Tarrif is completely awesome and the Allies suck" or something to that effect. I think. I don't know. I was getting a little drunk by then.

Docdoom then wins our hearts and minds by giving away free World War II Online stuff to people that answer trivia questions right. I answered the second one right and got a great iron-on patch for my jacket - so as to insure I will absolutely never have sex again. ZZ wins a hat, and several other people win stuff, much to the amusement of the bachelorette party which is the next table over and watching us intently - word has gotten out to the ladies that some l33+ PvP'ers were in town! Boooooyahhhhh.

After a few good-byes things start to wind down and all the non-hackers that don't pack the gear to rock with us drinker types leave. Sgtspoon devises a plan to camp a local bar not too far from Dave and Busters. At this point the bachelorette party decides that they too will leave Dave and Busters now that things are about to become distinctly less awesome with us gone. Docdoom whips on his first of many great quotes that night with: "There goes all the p*ssy!" That was quickly followed with: "Lets all go out and get AIDS." Lastly, someone showed Doc a digital picture of some girls rear, and Doc promptly says: "That would look better with my tounge up the crack of her ass." Someone at CRS's PR department might want to talk to him :)

The Comfort Inn - 2300hrs

Being the great Axis pre-campers that we are, ZZ and I decide to lead the charge out the door and to the next bar. Forgetting that we were hanging out with a bunch of Allies, no one follows us because there were too busy spawning tanks or whatever it is the Allies do. After realizing that we were alone, ZZ and I decide now would be a good time to check-in to our hotel room. That's taken care of and we wait for the Allied horde to catch up. Four minutes later we're tired of waiting, we assault the hotel bar, where ZZ whips out a phrase that might very well have been the end of our night.

While relating a story of how he was robbed in NYC, and after loosening up by a few beers and my crude sense of humor, ZZ says: "...and we were robbed by a bunch of n*ggers!" You can hear a pin drop at the bar. A black man at the end of the bar leaves, and the two black couples at the other end look at us uncomfortably. ZZ, realizing he maybe said that a bit too loud, tries to back peddle by hiding his six-foot-five frame behind me - the guy with the NYPD shirt on. They look at me in disgust. We promptly catch a cab to the bar we're supposed to meet the rest of the mini-con at, but not before watching some lesbian biker chicks get friendly with one-another.

Tritone Bar - 2315hrs

ZZ is drunk. I mean really really drunk. The rest of the mini-con has yet to catch up to us and he's singing and dancing to some punk-country music while calling everyone "rednecks". I don't have my gun, and things are not good. We decide our purposes would be best served if we cap a table, get some beer, and wait for the calvary to arrive. Again, forgetting that these guys are Allies, it takes a good hour-and-a-half for them to arrive in their slow-ass trucks. By then ZZ is a blithering mess and our forces have dwindled down to Docdoom, ZZ, Ahmish, Sgtspoon, and myself.

It's at this time ZZ starts making friends with the womenfolk and begins dancing with two or three women by himself. It kinda reminded me of that mud-wrestling scene in "Stripes" when Ox takes on the women. ZZ, being the 250lb guy that he is, is throwing his weight around and sure enough one of the ladies goes stumbling back against a wall and slumps over. PWNED! The next woman does some twirling sh*t and ZZ loses his glasses in the confusion. He's now blind and searching the dance floor hunched over like a zombie. Everyone must think this is a new type of dance because they get into it.

Amish leaves and the night slows down once the band finished up at 1 AM. ZZ is now passed out on the table and Sgtspoon is talking to some old friends, so Docdoom in I head to the Jazz bar across the street and start a conversation that will last for the next 27 hours. He gives me a masters level education in music, then we scrape ZZ off the floor and catch a cab home. 

The Comfort Inn Part 2 - 0300hrs

ZZ and I are sharing a room, so I keep him up for a little bit while the room is spinning for him and we occasionally call Docdoom's room and hang up just to p*ss him off. We were gonna go bang on Docdoom's door but the guy downstairs refused to give me his room number - apparently he heard I was the racist cop from New York the hated n*ggers. All is well, and we fall asleep watching Rocky on TNT.

Day 2

After checking out of the Comfort Inn the next morning, ZZ decides that Philadelphia has PWNED! him bad and must go home in shame. He makes up some lame excuse about feeding a dog so we don't give him a hard time about it :) Docdoom and I, being the Varsity team, decide that we haven't had enough abuse for one night and set about getting breakfast/lunch at Johnny Rockets on South Street. Sgtspoon gave us a great list of things to do even though he couldn't be there in person. We eat, then take the tour of the local bars and shops all along that strip, ending up at Penn's Landing an the warships there.  

After a tour of the ships, Doc and I travel around Philly for a while trying to find the airport and his hotel. We wind up finding the Ramada Inn, where he was supposed to stay for that night, but it's a total dump. Since CRS is footing the bill, plans are made to go to a more upscale establishment that better suits men of our stature. Originally I was gonna hang out then go home that evening, so Docdoom was just getting one room with one bed. Of course, the clerk at the front desk didn't know that, and his face went flush when Docdoom specifically asked for one bed with me standing right next to him. He must've thought the old man was some kind of sick pervert. 

Once settled, the evening festivities are ready to begin. We arrived at Monk's Tavern around seven and promptly order two Chimay Ales. That's "Chimay" as in the town Chimay, and those Belgian's sure do make a good beer. (Note to GHC: target all forces to Chimay and take the town intact.) Docdoom explains to me how Australian Rules Football works, and I have a hard time believing any group of human beings would put themselves through that much abuse. Monks was crowded so we decided we'd eat somewhere else after having just one more drink... 

After much walking the good doctor and I arrive at a local family establishment called Delilah's Steakhouse. They must have known that two of the world's foremost power-gamers were on their way because there were naked women everywhere! I thought this was kinda odd for a place claiming to be a steakhouse, but who am I to argue with a gorgeous topless dancer? Food is ordered in the form of two 8oz. steaks, and sadly enough I spend more time drooling over Docdoom's predictions for the Fw.190 than ogling the bouncing breasts just a few feet away.

After running up a $100 bar tab on my credit card (prices were really cheap - we just really drank a LOT) we decide to call it a night around 1:30AM and head back to the hotel. During this time we continue our talk on where the game is going, and we don't wrap it up until 3:30AM after an exhausted Doc had told me everything I wanted to know :) We set the alarm for 6:45AM and went to bed. I woke up a snoring Docdoom this morning and drove his tired ass to the airport. He's on his way home right now, probably boozing it up on the plane...

Philadelphia = PWNED!