Heyo! Apparently in IRC there was a lot of hubbub over the epicness of my GIFs, so now we are starting a little project!

Do you want to write a story based on CC? Well he's what you can do!

Take the time to write a story. A -good- story of decent length, word count, and quality. That means proofread your ♥♥♥♥ and format it properly.

Here's the catch, it has to be based on an existing CC mod. Why, do you ask?

Because I'm going to make a gif (or series of them) for your story! It's an animated storybook for CC!

I made me sumodem stories.


My MPAM unit's droppod descends at nearly twice the speed of sound. Two thousand feet above the ground, the rockets fire, slowing the pod enough for the hatch to be safely opened without the hatch being thrown into the unit. I hit the button and the wind rushes in, momentarily shaking the pod with hurricane winds. I throw the mech out of the pod, and activate the unit's jetpack, but instead of slowing, I rocket towards the ground and horizontally.

I have a target, and I am to destroy it at all costs. Armed with my drill, I am to fly into the field of missiles. All Class 3 nuclear warheads. This could win us the war, and save the millions dying because of a lust for gold. I draw nearer to the target, nearly level with the tips of the missiles, all out of the silo and readying to launch. I brace myself in the cockpit of my unit, and glance at the photo of my wife on one of the walls. I know there is little chance I will survive this mission.

I grit my teeth and activate the drill's rockets, giving me extra speed, and spin the drill-bit. The sound slamming into my eardrums, I let out a furious war-cry and give the pack more power, knowing I throw myself into death. I hit the top of the first warhead, just as it's rockets begin to warm up. Going as fast as I am, I have hit the fourth rocket before I hear the dull whump of the explosion. The force of the blast shakes my unit, and I hear the screech of tortured metal. I continue on, seeing my only hope at the end of the field.

An old, abandoned rocket, lying at a tilt. I slam full power to the jetpack's thrusters, pulling it away from the bit, trusting my speed to destroy everything in my path. Just as I hear the grass crack on my unit's cockpit, I hit the abandoned rocket, the crash sending my unit spinning through the air and into the atmosphere, the blast of the destroyed missiles following closely behind. I grip the controls tightly, trying to control the unit, when I feel a thump and my revolutions slowing to a stop. I check the cameras, and the recon MPAM has grabbed my unit in a daring attempt to save my life. I gasp my thanks over the radio, before passing out from the strain of my near-death experience.

... So the whole mission was to kill a rocket?

Ode to the suicide gun, by TD.

As the clone fired upon the helpless, crippled skeleton, as it lay in a pit with no arms or legs, shredding it, he laughed.

As the clone shot a dropship engine out with a sniper rifle and watched it and it's inhabitants tumble to a fiery death, he laughed.

As the clone shattered the orange plastic control unit of a dummy from behind with a shotgun, causing a spray of cogs, and it's nuclear power supply to spill out, he laughed.

As the clone walked over and picked up a suicide gun, aimed it carefully at a nearby foe, and fired, smashing his face and causing a spray of blood, bone and brain to splatter on the nearby terrain, I laughed.

More like several nukes. Lern2reedingcomprehension.

Clone # 343 always wanted to work with the Spec Ops Clones. They inspired him, and maybe he'd get Clone Soldier of The Month!

He though of this as he and 3 Spec Ops Clones moved up to the Dummy base. They worked their way up a small hill, and jump-jetted to the top, near the entrance of the base. The Spec Ops Clone looked back at 343.

"On my mark, Charlie will frag the base" He pointed to the 2nd Clone, almost identical to the rest, except he was holding his Doubletap, while the rest had Burst SMG's or Coalition SMG's.

They huffed up to the rocket opening, and peered into the darkness. There was nothing in the depths...expect probably a Dummy army waiting to rip them limb from limb.

Alpha, the Team Leader, began the countdown.."1....2....MARK!" On the last word, Charlie pulled the pin, and whipped the grenade down the hatch, where it clanked on the floor. An awkard silence penerated the area for several seconds, then broken by a thump. The grenade went off. Metal pinged around the confines of the base, and a small burst of smoke, shrapnel and dust escaped from the opening.

Then they stormed in.