$BJason$b, Super Opera Boy, Habete Quidam (Have Some), Whiffin’ Boy. Just code it. You fight like a Bob, Greg. Swallow your tongue and wet your pants. Sleep is for the weak. Joyriding to the core. Bob-Jam. “Oh, and we have networking now…” The power to sky. $IAnybody need a hint book?$i
$BGreg$b, Care Bear Killer, Toolator, Carnator, just vid it. I couldn’t stop firing long enough to see the bodies fly, and of course, AIR!! You got major AIR! I rule! Hey, J. how about a game of Minotaur? Got a super-vid kill. J, you couldn’t hit a planet with a meteorite. F-Vulcan. F-Vulcan. F-Vulcan.
$BReginald$b, Resident Doodler, Captain Scarlet, the man in red. He saw his body flying across the arena perhaps more than anyone else. But who better to fly than Capt. Scarlet.
$BRyan$b, the Vulcan man. School Boy. “An Imperial commander’s uniform has got to be good for $Isomething$i.”
$BAlain$b, the anti-vidmaster, playing with good humor on his 660AV against all us Power Macs.
$BAlex$b, munch, fodder, the boy who swallows grenades whole, and lives to tell the tale (occasionally).
$BDoug$b, Mouthpiece, “I’m not very good”, Tender Loin, the voice of Bob (both flavors). The man in the on-line asbestos suit.
Marathon is finished. We’ve slept <10 hours over the last four days. We all put our hearts into this, not to mention the 14 hour days for months on end, so we hope you like it.
Last polygon filled 6:05 PM Saturday, December 14.
Carnage ensued closely thereafter. Er, I mean sleep.
We’d like to thank our parents and our ancestors and the sun that went nova so that Earth could have iron and silicon.
