*NYOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWNNN*
*slow pan over sexy well reproduced Napoleonic weaponry*
IT IS 1809, NAPOLEONS FORCES HAVE BITCH SLAPPED SPAIN SO FAR IT LOOKS LIKE THERE IS NO HOPE. NO WHAT SO EVER. SO THEY ARE HANGING AROUND THE PORTUGUESE BOARDERS AROUD CORUNA RUNNING THE HELLS AWAY FROM THE FROGGIES.
OPEN ODDLY TINY REAR GUARD TEMPORARY CAMP....
Well, the future of Europe looks doomed. Time for some hunting Hogan.
Major Hogan: An excellent idea sir, I'll start rambling to myself in 3rd person with my oddly soothing voi- where'd he go that rascal?
Sharpe: Must. Wash. Stains. Of. Defeat!
French Dragoon #2: Oui, and why are we speaking French? we're Poles aren't we?Arthur Wellsely: Ah, what a brisk yet oddly cold Spanish Winter Morning...
French Dragoon #1 : Le Merde! Isn't zat ze Acting Commander of ze British Army in Spain and Portugal?
French Dragoon #2: Oui, and why are we speaking French? we're Poles aren't we?
French Dragoon #1: Shut up, VIVA FRANCE!
GALLOP GALLOP GALLOP
Arthur Wellsely: I'm Irish you bastids! Also, oh yeah we're the Rearguard behind enemy lines...I should remember that...
FLEE GALLOP GALLOP
Sharpe: Oooh by heck, what be going on over here?
Arthur Wellsely: FOR GOD SAKE SOMEBODY HELP YOUR COMMANDING GENERAL!
Dragoons: WE'RE GONNA CUT YOU UP BITCHES!
Sharpe: Time to show these old fashioned froggies that SCIENCE and TECHNOLOGY win the day. Also, a slightly superior range too.
CRACK, PAFF!
Dragoon #2: Mon Deau! bullets, my one weakness!
Dragoon #1: Well at least I am safe he is now armed so logically I'll ride SLOWLY and close to hit and ACK!
Sharpe: God I love gravity and greasy French britches...
CHOKE SPLASH SPLASH
Arthur Wellsely: My god, it is that bloke who saved my bacon in India. Here, Hogan give him a Comission.
Major Hogan: Hogan says I, I believe this might be the greatest idea you've ever ever ever done Sir. I love you Sir with all me beard.
Sharpe: Sweet, I'm now an Officer Class Profession. Now, lets see if I can loot that moustache off of the dead frog...
CUT TO FANCY PANTS HEADQUARTERS....
Sharpe: Wow bloody hell what a stroke of luck, a Commission now I can get the respect and love from my fellow man that I diserve.
Captain Bastard: No, trip over my boot you oik!
SHOVE, SHARPED BITCH!
Sharpe: RAGE!
Arthur Wellsely: Ah Sharpe, come in. Since your the only man here without a plummy accent we've chosen YOU for a super secret mission.
Major Hogan: Here is a shilling. We're broke. Now gimmie it back.
Sharpe: Super, so we just got to find a Banker behind enemy lines. What, a whole Company of Riflemen is needed? Not suspicious at all.
Major Hogan: Shut up and go.
Sharpe: At least my men will love me, They're fellow green jackets who've risen from their grimly lives to become the Elite of his majesties ar-
Cooper: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ...
Sharpe: D: FFS, wake up!
Cooper: Oh god, I thought I was in Eastenders for a moment.
Tounge: Oi, hands up you!
Sharpe: Nu-uh, I'm an Officer Sunny Jim. Sleeping is a shooting Offence. Now drag your arses from your trousers and wake up.
Tounge: Whoopsie daisy, I guess I should learn to look at sleeves more.
Cooper: Heh, lets watch him wake Harper and the rest up.
Harper: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ....
Sharpe: WAKE THE FECK UP YOUR LAZY BUGGERS.
Harper: No, you...
Sharpe: ANGLO-SAXON ANTI IRISH-SENTIMENT
Harper: IRISH BITTERNESS
PUNCH WHACK KICK SMACK BOLLOCK SQUEAZE
Chosen Men: Get him Harper, kick his main character ass to the kurb!
Major Dunnet: My Mutton Chops are tingling!
Captain Lennix: My god, if the internet was around like it was today in 93 this bit would be famous for the possible slash fic situations...
Major Dunnet: I don't like my men gripping around and writhing on the floor. Especially Officers, It makes me feel funny. Play by the rules you dragged up little git.
Sharpe: Bah, I'll keep following the bastards guide to being an officer no matter what you say. EVERYONE LOOK PRETTY FOR PARADE.
Cooper: I'm a Londoner Gutter Thief like you. But with the proper accent.
Harris: I'm the educated former drunk!
Issiah: I LIKE RELIGION.
Harper: I'm the bitter angry Irish bloke who will NEVER be your comrade and comical foil.
Hagman: And me, I likes to sing. Also, I am the best shot of them all.
Sharpe: Proove it, shot this hat!
CRACK!
Hagman: BOOM, HATSHOT!
Sharpe: Oi, that is defacing the Kings Property you dick! Now here are my rules. Don't get drunk unless I say so and no stealing unless it REALLY is needed.
Harper: Oh you tight arse, you are so dead when we get the chance....
ELSEWHERE....
Spanish Guerilla #1: Goddamn I hate the Blues. Always rushing us with higher numbers...
Spanish Guerilla #2: Look, the infamous BOX!
Terisa: I see it, Hello there Major. Shall we escort THE BOX?
Major Blas Vivar: We must move, I think they are rushing....
*FRENCH DRAGOON-BUSH*
French Dragoon #3: Ze box! Do not let zem have it!
French Dragoon #4: Ah, a voman she is weak! Let us charge slowly into the weak pistol fire my friend!
*CRACK CRACK, SMOKE, STAB, CRACK*
Teresa: Owned!
NEARBY!
Riflemen Company Column: STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP
Major Dunnet: Bah, I'm all out of Stomps. Lets just camp here men. Sharpe, you take your diverse lower class team and wank around the hill pretending to scout ahead.
Captain Lennix: We should have done this fifteen minutes ago. But I'm tired and lazy.
Major Dunnet: And I need to wax my chops. Move it.
Hagman: #Over the Hills and Far away....#
Sharpe: Shut it Hagman!
MEANWHILE ON A NEARBY HILL
Rifleman Deadmeat: Cor, I'm bursting I am...
Colonel de LeEclin: *MENACING STARE*
Mysterious Dodgy Black Clothed Bloke: *STRANGLE*
Rifleman Deadmeat: AGH! I peed all over me boots, also dying....
Major Dunnet: Oh balls, Horsies!
DRAGOON CHARGE, SLASH STAB SLASH, RIFLEMEN DEFENCE SLASH SLASH HORRIBLE SLAUGHTER FOR THE FOOTSIES...
Sharpe: Wait, there is nothing we can do despite having the highground and enough cover and ammunition to possibly drive them away!
NEARBY HILL
Teresa: Tch, the slaughter. And see how those cowards do nothing to save their fellow man.
Major Blas Vivar: Indeed. Let us watch also and do nothing despite being able to kick these guys asses to the curb.
Dragoon #6: Ze flag! you vill give it to me!
Captain Lennix: Never, I will defy you with my last OW A SABRE!
Colonel de LeEclin: Ah, ze slaughter. That'll teach you to steal our look! Now, let us look for that box some more. Random goons mill around on horses!
Dragoon #6: Oui, let is cruelly run down whatever survivors. That'll teach them for living!
Perkins: Oh damn I had to choose the wrong time for looting him...
Sharpe: Yes, now they out numbered us! ATTACK! Also, get the flag back!
CRACK CRACK CACK!
Dragoon #6: I REGRET NOTHING!
Perkins: What a stroke of luck, and I managed to get our flag back too!
Sharpe: Oh god Lennix, don't die. I don't want to be the CO. Also, Perkins keep hold of that flag. Our score is crap enough as it is.
ABANDONED FARM HOUSE
Hagman: Well, I've done all I can including sing to him but that sabre wound to his skin and your general presence is making him die.
Sharpe: Maybe I can talk to him and save him. Captain Lennix, please don't die. Seriously.
Captain Lennix: *COUGH, WHEEZE* I was never as pretty as you. And I don't know you. But hey, have my bastard of a sword. *CROAK*
Sharpe: Sweet, +1 Arse kicking...
Cooper: So, can we go home now? Albert Square is calling...
Sharpe: No. We're doing the mission still despite the fact we are bloody screwed. Why? IT'S MY DUTIES...
Harper: Me and the boys don't want to finish THE DUTIES. We want to go home and get promoted saving Wellselys arse from a dodgy water closet seat...
Sharpe: Oh yeah, you and what Army Paddy?
Harper: This one. And me fists, you racist bastard!
PUNCH SLAM SQUISH CRUNCH WHAM BAM SLAM!
*SPANISH GUERILLA AMBUSH*
Teresa: Don't move, bitches.
Harris: Aww, we are the worst Skirmishers and Scouts EVER....
Major Blas Vivar: Ah, the British. Our allies despite are hilarious cultural differences.
Teresa: *STARE HOTLY*
Sharpe: *HORNY BUGGER STARE BACK*
Major Blas Vivar: We make a deal. Look after our box and we look after your flag. Also, come with us.
Sharpe: Okay, sounds like a sweet deal. I'm sure we'll bump into the Banker we're looking for on the way. We've had the best luck so far!
Harper: No we haven't you massive noob.
Sharpe: Yeah, well FU. Your a deserter so you are gonna be shot when this is over. Tie him up boys.
Harper: D: why can't we be friends!?
Terisa: Now that is settled, I'm going outside to find some French corpses to pee on.
Sharpe: Wow, she is a bit rough.
Major Blas Vivar: He family were brutally killed and raped by the French. She also hates Garlic and those moustaches.
Sharpe: ....
Major Blas Vivar: Oh, by the way we being tailed dig?
Sharpe: No problem, give me an arse load of gunpowder....
LITTLE LATER OUTSIDE
Dragoon #8: Look, an abandoned house. In your face property market...
Farm House: KABLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
Dragoon #8: LE MON DEAU SACRE BLEU I AM ON FIIIIIRE!
Sharpe: Heh, in your face Boers and SAS I am the true Commando genius...
TROMP TROMP TROMP SLASH SLASH
Harper: Must. Wash. Stench. Of. Defeat...
Sharpe: Don't drown you violent yet loveible lug, we're going to shoot you...
Terisa: Quit acting like a dick with your men. They'll like you then.
Sharpe:....K.
Hagman: Oooer, me hip! don't worry sir, I protected the Rifle. Don't beat me.
Sharpe: Get up Dan, here let me help. We cool on the whole bastard Officer thing?
Hagman: Excellent. Brown paper is good for wounds sir...
Sharpe: Oh Hagman, you so crazy....
Major Blas Vivar: Stop! This looks supicious, you two goons guard the tied up Irish man and our Box of mystery.
Spanish Guerilla 3: But it's my first day!
TROMP TROMP TROMP
Burning Sacked and Looted Spanish Town
Harris: Egads! This town really must be dead.
Terisa: It IS dead you idiot. The French are dicks that is why.
Harris: You know, despite the fact we're all suppose to be super sneaky covert forces in this big ole' game of cloak and dagger we seem to be doing a pretty crap job of it...
Colonel de Le'Eclin: Oui, you are. Attack zem men! use your horses in these narrow messy crowded streets!
French Dragoons: RIBBIT RIBBIT RIBBIT!
SLASH STAB CRACK CRACK SLASH STAB
NEAR THE TOWN A SECOND....
Spanish Guerilla 3: So...hows the weather?
Harper: Oddly hot considering the fact it is winter.
Dragoons: AW SKEET SKEET!
Spanish Guerilla: Argh!
Harper: Help a bro out for a second?
Mysterious Black Clothed Man: Yo, dawg you hate the English? what I give you monies! and a free trip to America!
Harper: Oooh, monies. Then you get the power. Then you get the women. On second though, screw this. I can't stand the though of being in debt to the King.
Myserious Black Clothed Man: Fine. You two goons, you get the money I was offering to him. One of you may die...
Dragoon #9: There is two of us, MAKES SENSE TO ME!
Harper: Luckily for me, the French Dragoons have been watching to many Bruce Lee films.
CRACK!
Dragoon #9: UGH, I WAS SO SURE!
Dragoon #10: Haha, loser. Now mon ami, it is time to die because despite being a best friend of a main character you won't sur-
CRACK
Dragoon: ARGH RAMRODDED! IN THE THROAT!
Harper: OWNED!
Mysterious Black Clothed Man: Curses! Foiled again by ranged weaponry! RUN AWAY!
Harper: I'M SHOOTING YOUR HAT, I'M SHOOTING YOUR HAT!
BACK IN THE SACKED TOWN....
Sharpe: EAT MY BASTARD SWORD STABBING SKILLZ!
French Dragoons: RUN AWAY! RUN AWAY!
Tersia: Hang on, This is an ambush!
Harris: Duh.
Major Blas Vivar: Quickly! TO THE BOX!
Harper: Hey, don't worry about the box. It's all cool. I'm just looting the dead. Not deserted or anything...
Sharpe: You discharged your Ramrod! But since I like the crude innuendo of that, I'm letting you back in my clique.
Harper: Awesome. Can I have a kick ass Cavlary style sword too?
Sharpe: No.
Major Blas Vivar: Well, that was fun. Now, lets investigate this carriage.
*SUPER AWESOME SOLDIER LEANING AND RIFLE POINTING MOVES*
Mr Parker: Don't shoot! We're Methodists! I have a obviously tranny wife and middle aged daughter to feed.
Sharpe: It's cool dawg. Hey Blas, you said I was Commanding Officer in all this?
Major Blas: Yes I did, Lieutenant Sharpe...
Sharpe: Sweet, In that case I be riding with the Methodists. Hey Terisa, you want to come with?
Terisa: Of course, I'd love to spend some time with your horny ass and some freaky Methodists!
Issiah: Oh that crazy Sharpe...
TROMP CLOP CLOP CLOP TROMP CLOP
Sharpe: Gawd, what a busy day I'm nodding off...
'Mrs' Parker: Come on love, give me a quick drag of that fag.
A QUIET MONISTARY ON THE HILLS....
Major Blas Vivar: Excellent, we'll mooch on the Monks here and store the box a little bit. The French would NEVER DARE attack us in such a place. For they are sort of like the Immortals from Highlander...
Sharpe: Hmm, I wonder what in the magical box of mystery?
Terisa: Time to pray. Dear God, let me kill as much as French as possible, kay?
Sharpe: I'm still not into all of this. I'm like Han Solo in A New Hope. Whats in the box?
Terisa: Lock lips with my now...
Sharpe: Mmmm, you taste like bitterness and gun powder.
Terisa: Oh wait, Soldiers and sex are actually one of my main turn offs...
Sharpe: OH COME ON! Uh, have this Gentlemanly kiss on the hand for cockblocking me...
NIGHT FALLS, DINNER TIME!
Harris: Awesome, free food!
Monk: Gawd bless us all apart from the dirty English and other Protestants. Now, eat up and gorge heathens! Now, have some long long prayers in Latin.
Cooper: Get on with it, or I'll force Hagman to sing that song from Oliver.
Riflemen: OM NOM NOM NOM NOM BURP SLURP SPLATTER
FANCY POSH WELL DONE DINING ROOM
Major Blas Vivar: Wow, the Abbot of this place is surprisingly classy...
Abbot: A toast! To the Spanish King with the funny name.
Major Blas Vivar: Indeed, and death to the French and their silly concepts of Liberty, wearing blue and their moustaches!
Sharpe: Well, I don't agree on mass genocide. French women can be hawt. Can we toast to uber ultimate victory instead?
Mr Parker: I'm a pretty liberal Methodist have you noticed? Gorge some more on the port 'wifey'.
Teresa: Lets just hope we get to Torrecastro before getting pwned.
Ms Parker: I LIEK STORIES!1
Major Blas Vivar: Awww, you have the soul of a Spanish person. Now get drunk enough so I can get into your knickers..
Sharpe: Got to check on my team of diverse lower class soldiers...
Cooper: Chim chimminey chim chimminey charroo!
Sharpe: BOO! Like my new dress Cooper? Do I look pretty in it?
Cooper: ARGH A MONK!
Sharpe: Hey, got a lock picking set on you Cooper?
Cooper: Of course, duckie, Me class is Cockney Thief! what are you going to do with it?
Sharpe: Advance the plot...
TO THE LOCKED ROOM HOLDING THE CHEST...
Sharpe: Sneak sneak sneak....
Monk: Awww man, I got to get my relic fix...
Major Blas Vivar: Heya Sharpe, I'm totally here to tell you the story of the flag. Not suspicious me be down here with the transvestite bankers teenage daughter at all. Nope.
Sharpe: Okay, spill you crazy pervert.
Major Blas Vivar: Okay. A thousand years ago whilst the Moors were Zerg Rushing Spain, my Ancestor was slightly miffed at all this invading so he took a cinematic stand with his feudal group of yokels and drove them off from Torrecastro. It is said this flag helped them because it spawned Saint James to pwn them.
Monk: Mmmm, tasty Relic...
Major Blas Vivar: We must return this flag to our base in Torrecasto. Only then will we be able to draw the score against the Blues and not lose the game.
Sharpe: What? Pull the other one. It is a flag. I reject your fantasy world and everything in it!
Ms Parker: IT IS LEGEND, IT MUST BE TRUEEE!!
Major Blas Vivar: We need time, so you guys have to camp the Church with us. Help us please!
Sharpe: Bah, the French will zerg us and zerg us hard. Also, you lied to us. Stealing, breaking and entering and messy killing is fine by me but not lies...RAGE!
Major Blas Vivar: It is the last Flag of Spain! we cannot spawn anymore.
Sharpe: No. Screw you guys, I'm going home...
Major Hogan: No your aren't. DO YOUR DUTY SHARPE.
Sharpe: I can't be done! Your mad! And what about our objectives? Wait, what are you doing down here with another man and a teenage girl...
Major Hogan: Use the luck of the hero Sharpe. Besides, We're all boned if you don't do this. Besides this act also unlocks achivement.
Sharpe: What? you believe people will join a losing battle for a flag?
Major Hogan: You'd do Sharpe. OH SNAP!
Sharpe: SCREW ALL OF YOU, I'M GOING TO MY ROOM AND GONNA LISTEN TO MY WAX CYLINDERS OF THE GRENADIER MARCH...
Teresia: Wait, I don't believe in it too. I do it for my nation and team like you!
Sharpe: You did your duty. Guess I have to do mine if I want to be paid.
Teresia: Keep him safe so I will shag him at the end, okay?
THE NEXT DAY...
Perkins: Awesome, we're going on a day out!
Teresia: Why didn't you tell him Hogan?
Major Hogan: He's a lazy bastard, you've got to spring it on him at the last minute. Also, spoilers.
A SMALL ENCAMPMENT NEAR TORRECASTRO....
Cooper: Okay, I'll show you how to use a musket despite the fact we've seen you use Pistols and don't even understand me. Beats listening to Hagman sing.
Spanish Guerillas: Que?
Sharpe: Yo Hogan, what is it?
Major Hogan: Teresa has worked out a good strategy. This is it...
Sharpe: Okay. What is it? I'm an open minded fellow..
Teresia: Well, Torrecastro is heavily camped, but I will use my skillz to sneak in and...
Sharpe: NO! I FORBID IT!
Teresia: Oh Sharpe you loveable ass.
Major Hogan: Easy Captain Misogny...
Sharpe: Screw you guys, I'm going to cry on Harpers shoulder...
Teresia: He forbids it? Who does he think he is the protaginist?
Major Hogan: SHARPES Rifles?
Harper: *Plays Fife..*
Sharpe: Evening Sarge, know Freebird?
Harper: Wait, I'm getting a promotion?
Sharpe: Yes, be sure to spend some exp in melee weapon strength, wise crackery and heavy firearms too..
Harper: I feel some sort of attachement to you know. I'll even forgive you for crushing my testacles.
Sharpe: Best friend 4 life?
Harper: 4 life. Also, there are two sub classes of Officer. Killing Officer with speed and DPS bonuses and murdering officer with stealth bonuses and a talk proficiency.
Sharpe: Sweet, everything is so simple now!
NEXT DAY, OUTSIDE TORRECASTRO...
Major Hogan: Wow, what an excellent matte painting...
Mr Parker: Dammit Hogan, I wish I was there!
Major Hogan: So am I. But we must protect your trannie 'wife'.
French Line Infantry #1: Mmm, apple. Thanks nice Spanish Lady!
Terisa: Bueno! Actually, I'd like to have it BACK!
STAB!
French Line Infantry #1: UGH! She is stealing my apple D:
French Line Infantry #2: Hey, stop that killing over th-
SLASH!
Terisa: Via. Con. Dios.
Sharpe: Okay Rifleman, stop cowering behind the crates. We're in, follow me...
INSIDE THE QUIET TOWN OF TORRECASTRO
Sharpe: Hey, things are all quiet. Maybe everyone is sleeping or masturbating. Looks like we wi-
French Infantry Hoarde: LE CHARGE! RUSH THEM!
Rifles: *Begin to fire and kick over light wooden furniture as cover*
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! STAB!
French Infantry Hoarde: NON, ZE TABLES! RETREAT! TAKE COVER!
Eissiah: BOOM HEADSHOT!
French Voltiguer: Take zis, Mister Smarty Pants!
CRACK!
Harper: Ouch! That be me drinking arm!
CRACK!
French Voltiguer: Haha! augh, my drinking throat!
Major Blas Vivar: Hmm, maybe we should have been a little bit more stealthy...
Spanish Guerillas: Look! The church! screw you distance, time and physics we won't get shot!
Terisa: NO! DON'T BE AN HEROES YOU FOOLS!
French Line Infantry Reinforcements: We disagree!
CRACK CRACK CRACK!
Terisa: Ah balls...
Sharpe: Okay everyone, we have an aching minute and a half whilst they reload. Now, lets brain storm!
Major Blas Vivar: Can we pose dramatically behind our cover too?
Sharpe: Of course. Harper, bleed more blood!
Eisiah: Mister Sharpe! Look, a White Flag in the church window. The French are surrendering!
Harris: Nah, that wise crack will be too easy.
Colonel de Le Eclin: Hey, Gentleman Officer time out..I'm the Colonel of this village. Primary Villain.
Sharpe: Lieutenant Sharpe, Protaginist.
Mysterious Black Clothed Man: And I, am the Count of Matamoros. My bro is Blas Vivar. I'm the secondary Villain by the way.
Sharpe: Ooer a dramatic twist, Fancy. Spill it Froggy. Also 'Count', why are you a filthy filthy traitor?
Count Matamoros: The uniforms are good, the women are pretty and ironically Liberal.
Sharpe: Balls to this Politics crap, I'm a Soldier. I crush your carefully worded reason with British pride.
Count Matamoros: Whatever. You have thirty minutes to surrender and let us take the box AND the flag.
Colonel de Le Eclin: And to tell your noobs to lay down their muskets.
Sharpe: They're not muskets, they are rifles. Noob. My men are also elite and will headshot you frogs silly.
Colonel de Le Eclin: They are overpowered. You will be pwned.
Sharpe: Yeah, well we're going to be fighting in ten minutes anyway. So neh.
Harper: Hey, wasn't I injured a second ago?
Choir Boys: Hey, dum de do do. Don't mind us. We're here because it looks old timey yet artistic.
Sharpe: TENSION. KILLING. ME.
GALLOP GALLOP GALLOP
Dragoons: WE'RE BAAAAAACK! And stupidily enough fighting on horse back in an ubran enviroment once.
Riflemen: Yeah, well let us shoot some of you off your horses whilst you scream and pose to the music...
Sharpe: At this angle, I've got to be a great shot...
Hagman: Oooer, not the best of times for my leg to give away!
Perkins: I told you to quit doing them brown bags you pillock! Into the Church!
Choir Boys: Hey, we're singing praises to the Lord. Can you keep the gunfire and killing down out there?
Hagman: Oooer. I'm all soft and humbled in here.
Sharpe: Maybe I should do something instead of stare gormlessly at the Dragoons riding around in circles...
Perkins: Top of the world Mum! Or the Church anyways...
Cooper: By shooting my musket ball into this pile of dry hay, I'll cause a blaze! don't ask me how.
Harris: And I'll SLOWLY push the wagon that holds the oddly kerosene soaked hay around to scare the horses. Man we really are half arsed at this.
Dragoon #12: MERDE! a slow cart of flaming hay! Another one of our many weaknesses!
Dragoon #13: I CUT YOU!
Harris: Oh crap maybe I shouldn't have run around like an idiot after the cart thing they were bound to notice me with my ginger mop...
CRACK!
Cooper: I shoot you!
Dragoon #13: I died doing what I loved! FAILING UGH!
Harris: Come Cooper, let us raise the roof onto his crapauds!
Cooper: COCKNEY AWAY!
Hagman: I am the angel of death. There will be no survivors.
Perkins: EAT MY BALLS!
CRACK CRACK CRACK!
Dragoon #14: UGH why are you Infantry standing there!
French Line Infantry #4: Low production values. I was also Dragoon #4 and one of the Riflemen...
Sharpe: Oh man, Teresa is watching I'd better get my sword-fu ready...
Riflemen on the Roof: Fear our basic grasp of tactics!
CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK SMOKE....
Dragoon #15: Oh god my moustache and my face....
French Line Infantry #5: Campers!
CRACK!
Cooper: GRAGH HACKER!
Harris: I'll pwn that lamer for you...
Cooper: Nah, I owned him. Also note that we're really not caring to load these things properly anymore?
Harris: Yet oddly, we still are hitting them...
Sharpe: Right Harris, come with me into the church..
Harris: Why not? It's not as if the Infantry here are actually going to do anything. Let us camp the way.
French Line Infantry #7: Speaking of camping...
Sharpe: MELEE HUMILIATION!
Major Blas Vivar: Yo Saint James, I'm here to drop the flag off. Help us win k?
Count Matamoros: I DON'T THINK SO...
Major Blas Vivar: Bring it you Spanish Napoloenic Bill Bailey..
Count Matamoros: Ooooh, you just crossed the final line...en guarde!
SLASH SLASH CLANG CLANG SLASH
Major Blas Vivar: I've got your hand bro, I've got your hand!
Count Matamoros: Quit it! Now, hiddenpistolsurprise!
Major Blas Vivar: Ugh you lamer!
CRACK!
Major Blas Vivar: Pushinthescenarydowntoconfuseyouattack!
CLANG SLASH SLASH CLANG STAB!
Count Matamoros: Egad, a hidden dagger? who is truly the dishonourable one brother?
Major Blas Vivar: You, you liberal traitor. Pathos!
Count Matamoros: Bury me with no priests. And my beard!
Dragoons: OW, STOP SHOOTING US YOUR KILLING OUR MORALE!
Riflemen: No.
Colonel de le Eclin: RUN AWAY! RUN AWAY!
Major Blas Vivar: At last, Spanish Forces have CAPTURED THE FLAG!
Sharpe: Yes, I got the achivement too! Also, Teresa hug me you sexy desheveled woman!
Towns People: HURRAY HURRAY! TEMPORARY SAFETY! LETS UP RISING NOW!
Riflemen: Yes. We're the heroes. Those dead Spanish guys? Ignore them. We kick so much arse. Love us.
Sharpe: I'm looting the Colonels Fancy hat...also, Saint James I guess. Oh wait, this Hat can't be worn by my class due to faction restrictions. Throwing it...
CRACK CLOP CLOP CLOP CLOP UNSHEATHE
Colonel de le Eclin: This is one French man that DOESN'T RUN AWAY! and put down my hat.
Sharpe: Oi, don't shoot him. We're going to duel OFFICER STYLE!
CLANG CLANG SCHLING CLANG!
Colonel de le Eclin: Hah, I have the advantage because I am on my horse and you are not!
Sharpe: Yeah? good thing my dragging men from horses skills come in..
Colonel de le Eclin: No matter, I can fight just as well on the groun-
Sharpe: Nope, disarmed bitch! Hey, no pistols this is a SWORD duel...
Colonel de le Eclin: Neh, honour is overrated. Prepare to eat musket bal-
CRACK
Colonel de le Eclin: *le DIE*
Sharpe: Who shot him!?
Perkins: Uh, me?
Sharpe: Sweet. Your are now in my clique Perkins. Here, take this friendship bracelet.
Major Hogan: Well Sharpe, we've done what we can do here. Now lets run away and leave these poor sods to the raping sacking French...
BACK AT THE BRITISH ARMY HQ A FEW DAYS LATER..
Arthur Wellsely: Well, despite the loss of an entire company of 95th, destruction of two Spanish border towns and soured relations with the local Guerillas GREAT WORK Sharpe. Still, shame you never got the bloke we sent you for.
Sharpe: Elementary my dear Arthur...YOINK.
DEWIGGED
Mrs Perkins/Mr Rotheschild: Egad, how did you know old boy?
Sharpe: Well, the face and hands. Also, your too Jewish to be a Methodist.
Mr Rotheschild: Well damn. Here is your several million guineas Sir...
Arthur Wellsely: Oh you whacky pervert Rotheschild. Lucky for you are rich and a spy because this is illegal still.
Major Hogan: Well, Hogan says I, would have choosen to wore such a dress if I could...
Arthur Wellsely: Everyone sod off, I've got a war to fight!
IN A NEARBY BARN
Sharpe: So. I'm the hero and I proved my manliness by killing many French. Can we bonk?
Terisa: Of course. Take my manly body in this soiled hay...
PG-13 BONK BONK CUT AWAY...
Mr Rotheschild: Tally ho, I'm going back to Blighty to cross dress with the Prince Regent...
Sharpe: Well, that was fun. Now to get back to the front and do my bit in the wars.
Major Hogan: Fat chance. It's not as if anyone else is volunteering to be this hardcore.
