CplHotPockets - Invidious

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"So go forth - earn your names, earn your scars! Earn your place."
Thats exactly what I intend to do.

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CplHotPockets

Soon

2 months ago | [YT] | 0

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CplHotPockets

Great video

7 months ago | [YT] | 0

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CplHotPockets

Merry Thanksgiving, and death to the xenos.

On Old Earth’s worn kitchen tiles, the gravy still will boil,
While Grandma guards the pumpkin pies like holy sacred spoil;
But starships wait at Lagrange points, with drives that softly sing—
For soon we’ll set the table where the distant planets ring.

We’ll carve a bird on Mars one day, beneath its dusty sky,
UNSC Marines in dress blues, rifles stacked nearby;
A Grunt will sniff the mashed potatoes, squeak, “This smells insane!”
Then dodge a flying dinner roll from some bored ODST’s aim.

On frozen moons of distant suns, the Guard will form a queue,
Catachans grilling corpse-starch “turkey,” calling it fondue;
A Commissar says, “Give your thanks, or give your final breath,”
The squad says grace quite quickly, very grateful to cheat death.

Tyranids swarm the banquet hall, all claws and hungry roar,
Until they taste the candied yams… and shuffle back for more;
An Ork declares, “Dis ‘ANKSGIVIN’ IZ A PROPA FIGHT FER TEEF!”
Then steals the silver wishbone as his personal warlord’s wreath.

From Super-Earth the drop pods fall, a cranberry-red descent,
Helldivers bringing stuffing shells and liberty’s consent;
“Democracy and gravy!” they cry, mid-termoid raid,
Planting little flag-topped pies in every crater made.

And though the stars are cold and dark, and xenos crowd the black,
We pass the bowl of taters down a humming drop-ship rack;
For while there’s hands to share the feast and stories, jokes, and light—
Thanksgiving marches planetward, through every warp-tossed night.

So eat, give thanks, and polish armor by the kitchen’s glow this year;
Tomorrow’s feast may be on Phobos… but the hearts are gathered here.