Reporter: Rhoads
Scientist(s): Rhoads, rob6264
Date: 11/12/02

Experiment Conducted:

While I was watching Face/Off last night on the classic movie channel (it looks so damn low-tech and fake, can't believe anyone even bothered making movies before hologram technology), it hit me that the heroes of this genre of movie approach the pinnacle of bad-assness. So what better way to increase my own personal bad-assness than to emulate them? I immediately started to think of how I could work this into a new experiment. I needed some alien to shoot -- and since enemies in this kind of movie are generally big, dumb, slow and ugly, I figured that the closest thing would be a Fade. But the general toughness of Fades made me curious about exactly how many pistol shots it would take to down one of those suckers. When I suggested this experiment to my supervisor, he stared blankly at me for a while, then suggested that rob6264 join me, with the rationale that "two heads are better than one." Rob6264's head would indeed be a valuable asset, if it could ever be dislodged from his rectum. A formidable task indeed! As I left the room, I thought I overheard the supervisor chuckling to himself and rubbing his hands together, but that might have just been the wind.

After meeting to discuss the experiment, and then cleaning up the broken glass and pottery from the ensuing brawl, Rob and I approached the Underwriter lab's contact with the TSA, Corporal Richard McDougal. I explained what we planned to do -- rob was assigned to find a suitable Fade and keep it restrained while I stood at a comfortable distance, uttered a catchy one-liner, and shoot the alien until it died -- and McDougal reacted by grinning widely and laughing. I guess this must have reminded him of some prank he and his squad pulled or something. After he recovered his composure, McDougal took us to the armory to issue equipment. He issued me a Cx10 semi-automatic pistol, which I quickly renamed to "Bad-ass Alien Whomper", or BAW for short, and three reserve clips of 10 bullets each. I also requested a digital camera to take a picture of the look on rob's face when I started to reload -- the benefit for having captured the purest expression of fear on film was not immediately apparent, but I'm sure it'd have some use, maybe blackmail. McDougal then turned to rob and handed him a tape recorder and a cassette of a marine constantly saying "Commander, I need a medpack STAT!" (this was to serve as bait), and a long length of sturdy rope to keep the Fade secured. Finally, McDougal issued each of us a rabbit's foot, a copy of the King James Bible, and an informative brochure about life insurance. Those silly TSA guys and their lame sense of humor.

Rob and I were dropped off by the TSA at a nearby alien-infested facility. Rob and I were both astonished at the dropship's rate of movement away from this facility after we were safely off -- maybe they needed to return some books to the library before they were overdue. We wandered through the facility until we found a suitably large room with a good, high perch to hide on until a Fade arrived. Rob turned on the tape recorder and placed it in the middle of the room, and I loaded Bad-ass Alien Whomper, then we both climbed on top of the perch. We waited there for what seemed like an hour waiting for a Fade to show up, with nothing to do except scare off the occasional Gorge who tried to swallow the tape recorder, usually using the flash of my camera. Finally, one of the 8-foot tall stinky beasts showed up. I nicknamed it "Sally" since it resembled my ex-girlfriend -- only a bit prettier. It seemed quite confused that no marine was there for it to eat. I shouted "NOW!" and waited for rob to jump down and wrap the Fade up, but nothing happened. Rob had apparently fallen asleep, as usual. I woke him up and told him that a Fade was here. After he came to his senses, he gave out a war cry and proceeded to entangle Sally. I jumped down, donned my bad-ass sunglasses, and took aim, but something was wrong -- I had forgotten to come up with some kind of catchy one-liner to say! What good is the experiment if I had no one-liner? There was no way I could be truly bad-ass without a one-liner.

I wracked my brain for a few seconds, but seeing that Sally was about an inch away from tearing rob in half, I settled for saying "Uhh yeah, you're gonna die bitch" and started firing away. A clip and a half later (15 bullets, to be exact), Sally was nothing but a quivering lump of goop on the floor.

I radioed back to base asking for a ride back to somewhere that didn't smell like the cafeteria of my grade school, and for once they got here on time. Transit was a bit difficult because rob received what he termed "a godawful slash that burns like the blazes" across his chest, stomach, and right arm while trying to tie up the Fade, and he wouldn't stop complaining about it. He's currently receiving stitches at Kindly Neighbor Hospital. Now, to be honest, I don't see why he felt the need to go run off to Dr. Doom for just a little paper cut. I mean, my kid sister could take 4 or 5 of those without whining, and she's 13, for cripe's sake. Rob's such a pansy. Maybe he'd feel better if I got him a sympathy card. You know, one with a bomb in it.

1 - rob6264 [11/12/02]: God damn it, those slashes hurt! You try it sometime. Seriously, I feel like I'm always the ass end of all these jokes. And, I mean, like Rhoads can talk, you saw yourself how this "Sally" was better looking than his last girlfriend. At least I've got better taste in women, hell I've got my nurses nano-phone number already!