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Victorian_Guy
New member
Brothers,
I rushed to my computer to write this...I still can't believe it...I had dinner this evening with none other than mass-monster GUNTER SCHLIERKAMP!!!
I was working out in a gym in the London area, with my chauffeur/training partner/security assistant, Nobby, when, lo and behold, there was Gunter, doing behind the neck presses with 355!! Nobby and I lumbered over and asked to work in with him. "Ja, dis is possible" he said, in a friendly, gutteral German accent. Nobby immediately did his warm-ups- with the 355 Gunter had just barely managed- and Gunter immediately took a liking to us. A young scrawny lad approached us, and started introducing himself to Gunter. "Oi...FOOK OFF!!" Nobby snarled, and he put one of his shovel-sized GH-mutated hands over the kid's face and tossed him backwards onto the floor! Gunter stood over him, laughing. "Achtung, flabby little UNTERMENSCHEN, go away before I CU-RRUSH you!" he bellowed, in a terrifyingly commanding voice, worthy of an SS gruppenfuher, and the boy scurried off, whimpering! The three of us roared with laughter as he ran out the gym, snivelling!
The training over, we decided to head over to a Chinese restaurant for a ridiculously large post-workout meal. It was an upscale place, and quite busy.
Entering the restaurant, Gunter, wearing a tan coloured silk shirt, black pants, and jackboots, looked closely at his watch, then folded his arms and scanned the restaurant. "Gentlemen, ve must secure zee table by 21:00 hours!" he commanded.
"Say Gunter, let's 'blitzkrieg' that table full of what looks like slavic people over there...and claim it for ourselves!" I suggested.
"Ja, dis is possible!" Gunter said, and the three of us headed over to a table of 6 and shoved them all off their chairs, snarling at each of them. "Look out chump! Incoming ME-109!" I chuckled as I pulled a chair out from underneath one of them. As they walked off, complaining, and threatening to call the police, I ripped my shirt off and hit a most-muscular at them...that scared them off!
The manager came over, cleared his throat, and just before he could ask us to leave, Nobby seized him by the tie and pulled him close so he was nose to nose with him. "Roight, wot we want is some FOOKIN grub, and fookin QUICK, get it?" Nobby snarled, glaring into the man's face with his small, cold black eyes, which make those of a man eating shark look warm and friendly. Terrified, the little Chinaman ran away, yelping 'okay, wight away...wight away.." and the three of us leaned back in our chairs, stretched ourselves out, and basked in the glow of the intimidation we instilled in everyone else at the restaurant!
After eating more food in one sitting than the restaurant usually cooks in a night, we leaned back, and enjoyed a glass of some very potent Chinese hard liquour. Gunter got a tad pissed, and pointed to the next table "Ja...ve could use some LEBENSRAUM..dis table is not enough room!" he slurred. "Why yes, indeed... those half-breeds over there have no right to it, do they?" I quipped.
"Time for BLITZKREIG!!!" Gunter bellowed, then stood up, staggered over to the next table, flipped it over, and started screaming like a madman "GO ON! GET OUT OF HERE! MAKE ROOM FOR ZEE SUPERMEN!! SCHNELL!!!" at the 3 shocked old ladies at the table. They fled the restaurant, and a few moments later we could see out the window two police cars pulling up- for us, no doubt!
Gunter glared at them, and I decided it was time for Nobby and I to make our usual escape- and leave Gunter to take responsibily for the trouble we'd caused in the restaurant!
I leaned over to Gunter, grinning, and set the stage for my and Nobby's escape."Gunter, old chap, looks like it's time for the 'Schleifflen Plan'!" I said.
"Ja, like in de 1914, vee overvelm dem vit our strategic attack" Gunter slurred.
"Yes, EXACTLY. All right then. Let's say the police officers out there are France- and that kitchen door leading out the back is Belgium- YOU perform the frontal assault on France, while Nobby and I go round Belgium, and OUTFLANK them!" I suggested. Then I turned to Nobby, and informed him, in a low whisper, of our real intentions- "**** Belgium, Nobby, we're taking off". Nobby thought it was a sound idea. "Fookin roight!" he snarled.
Rising up out of his chair, Gunter seized the bottle of liquor off the table, chugged it down, reeled back on the balls of his feet, then thundered "GOTT MIT UNS!!" and charged out the front window of the restaurant and right into two police officers, clotheslining them both!
Meanwhile, Nobby and I stormed through the kitchen door, through the kitchen, and out the back door, knocking it off its hinges! We leapt in the Rolls Royce and pulled out, slowing down as we drove past a small brawl involving Gunter and 5 or 6 policemen.
Nobby rolled down his window, stuck his head out, and snarled "OI! Mates! 'URT THE SAUSAGE EATIN BAHSTAHD!!!" to the baton-wielding cops, then floored it and we roared off, laughing!
I hope Gunter takes it all in stride. I know he will, and count Nobby and I amongst his good friends, even as he sits, battered and bruised, in a holding cell at the police station!
I rushed to my computer to write this...I still can't believe it...I had dinner this evening with none other than mass-monster GUNTER SCHLIERKAMP!!!
I was working out in a gym in the London area, with my chauffeur/training partner/security assistant, Nobby, when, lo and behold, there was Gunter, doing behind the neck presses with 355!! Nobby and I lumbered over and asked to work in with him. "Ja, dis is possible" he said, in a friendly, gutteral German accent. Nobby immediately did his warm-ups- with the 355 Gunter had just barely managed- and Gunter immediately took a liking to us. A young scrawny lad approached us, and started introducing himself to Gunter. "Oi...FOOK OFF!!" Nobby snarled, and he put one of his shovel-sized GH-mutated hands over the kid's face and tossed him backwards onto the floor! Gunter stood over him, laughing. "Achtung, flabby little UNTERMENSCHEN, go away before I CU-RRUSH you!" he bellowed, in a terrifyingly commanding voice, worthy of an SS gruppenfuher, and the boy scurried off, whimpering! The three of us roared with laughter as he ran out the gym, snivelling!
The training over, we decided to head over to a Chinese restaurant for a ridiculously large post-workout meal. It was an upscale place, and quite busy.
Entering the restaurant, Gunter, wearing a tan coloured silk shirt, black pants, and jackboots, looked closely at his watch, then folded his arms and scanned the restaurant. "Gentlemen, ve must secure zee table by 21:00 hours!" he commanded.
"Say Gunter, let's 'blitzkrieg' that table full of what looks like slavic people over there...and claim it for ourselves!" I suggested.
"Ja, dis is possible!" Gunter said, and the three of us headed over to a table of 6 and shoved them all off their chairs, snarling at each of them. "Look out chump! Incoming ME-109!" I chuckled as I pulled a chair out from underneath one of them. As they walked off, complaining, and threatening to call the police, I ripped my shirt off and hit a most-muscular at them...that scared them off!
The manager came over, cleared his throat, and just before he could ask us to leave, Nobby seized him by the tie and pulled him close so he was nose to nose with him. "Roight, wot we want is some FOOKIN grub, and fookin QUICK, get it?" Nobby snarled, glaring into the man's face with his small, cold black eyes, which make those of a man eating shark look warm and friendly. Terrified, the little Chinaman ran away, yelping 'okay, wight away...wight away.." and the three of us leaned back in our chairs, stretched ourselves out, and basked in the glow of the intimidation we instilled in everyone else at the restaurant!
After eating more food in one sitting than the restaurant usually cooks in a night, we leaned back, and enjoyed a glass of some very potent Chinese hard liquour. Gunter got a tad pissed, and pointed to the next table "Ja...ve could use some LEBENSRAUM..dis table is not enough room!" he slurred. "Why yes, indeed... those half-breeds over there have no right to it, do they?" I quipped.
"Time for BLITZKREIG!!!" Gunter bellowed, then stood up, staggered over to the next table, flipped it over, and started screaming like a madman "GO ON! GET OUT OF HERE! MAKE ROOM FOR ZEE SUPERMEN!! SCHNELL!!!" at the 3 shocked old ladies at the table. They fled the restaurant, and a few moments later we could see out the window two police cars pulling up- for us, no doubt!
Gunter glared at them, and I decided it was time for Nobby and I to make our usual escape- and leave Gunter to take responsibily for the trouble we'd caused in the restaurant!
I leaned over to Gunter, grinning, and set the stage for my and Nobby's escape."Gunter, old chap, looks like it's time for the 'Schleifflen Plan'!" I said.
"Ja, like in de 1914, vee overvelm dem vit our strategic attack" Gunter slurred.
"Yes, EXACTLY. All right then. Let's say the police officers out there are France- and that kitchen door leading out the back is Belgium- YOU perform the frontal assault on France, while Nobby and I go round Belgium, and OUTFLANK them!" I suggested. Then I turned to Nobby, and informed him, in a low whisper, of our real intentions- "**** Belgium, Nobby, we're taking off". Nobby thought it was a sound idea. "Fookin roight!" he snarled.
Rising up out of his chair, Gunter seized the bottle of liquor off the table, chugged it down, reeled back on the balls of his feet, then thundered "GOTT MIT UNS!!" and charged out the front window of the restaurant and right into two police officers, clotheslining them both!
Meanwhile, Nobby and I stormed through the kitchen door, through the kitchen, and out the back door, knocking it off its hinges! We leapt in the Rolls Royce and pulled out, slowing down as we drove past a small brawl involving Gunter and 5 or 6 policemen.
Nobby rolled down his window, stuck his head out, and snarled "OI! Mates! 'URT THE SAUSAGE EATIN BAHSTAHD!!!" to the baton-wielding cops, then floored it and we roared off, laughing!
I hope Gunter takes it all in stride. I know he will, and count Nobby and I amongst his good friends, even as he sits, battered and bruised, in a holding cell at the police station!
