Full tank of flamer fuel, half a magazine of Bolter rounds   Leave a comment

It’s dark, and we’re getting our faces munched by exo-galactic terrors.

Wednesday I weighed myself. 77.2kg. I started at 82, so things are progressing just about as well as could be expected. 4.8kg in 42 days is pretty good going.

But I still spent much of the day in a miserable, grumpy mood. The only reason I could come up with was because I’d not got to play Space Hulk the previous day, although it could have been because I was hungry, as lunch was just soup and bread. You wouldn’t like me when I’m hungry. Or just more grumpiness about work. Or maybe I’m just a miserable sod.

Eventually the day was over, dinner was had, and – huzzah! – my friend came over to play Space Hulk. This time it was Mission 3, and he was the Space Marines. This mission involves the Marines having to get an object from one end of the map to the other, so they can’t just set up fire zones and wait for all the aliens to throw themselves to their doom (not least because in this mission the Genestealer player gets infinite reinforcements). And between the entrance and exit (five Space Marines start at each) is a tight, twisty section of the map with no lines of fire. And, even better, no way for the Marines to bypass it.

It’s not an easy mission, and despite the Space-Nazis fighting bravely, and scoring more than their fair share of hand-to-hand victories, the Aliens were victorious. Carefully biding our time and choosing our entrance points made sure we could get right up close to the Marines with the minimum amount of getting shot. Hurrah the face-munchers!

And, happily, after the game was over there was still plenty of time to go to the gym. And what does gym mean? More calories! So I could scoff cake and a yoghurt when I came in. Hurrah!


Posted 27 September 2011 by Colthor in Diary

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