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Infantry personnel usually need to carry with them four principal items; weapons, ammunition, food and water.
Now, BorgCo researchers have developed a way of combining two of these items.
The Full Metal Jacket Potato externally resembles a 38mm or 40mm baton round (ARWEN). It is a thin metal shell,
containing a radiation-treated potato, which will stay fresh for may years.
The round can be deployed in two modes:
1. Weapon mode - the projectile can be fired from an unmodified grenade launcher in the usual way, serving as a low-lethality kinetic round for riot control.
2. Food mode - by puncturing a marked area on the casing, a catalytic liquid is released into the propellant charge. This causes the charge to oxidise rather than ignite, releasing large amounts of heat. The round is then loaded into the grenade launcher in the normal way and the primer fired, which initiates the slow-burn reaction and serves to contain some of the heat. After a given time has elapsed, the round is ejected and the projectile casing opened with a conventional can opener, allowing the hot, delicious and nutritious content to be consumed.
Product safety waning: Not entirely suitable for unsupervised children. May cause serious injury or death if used correctly.
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To reduces potential lethality, bonus points for a strip of shock-cord that "peels" the spud-round on exiting the l(a)uncher. |
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You are correct, [21Q]. Noted. |
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Ketchup with those french fries young sir? Ha!
Perfect strike. |
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Private Smith had almost dozed off in the turret when the ambush began. |
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He wheeled the M2 .50 cal machinegun around in a slow and graceful arc, and began firing into the melee with the well honed skill and accuracy of a seasoned machine gunner. |
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"I need more ammo!", He yelled down into the armoured truck. |
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His enemies pushed closer towards the immobilized convoy. The belt of ammunition, spilling out from the feed tray, grew dangerously short. |
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"I need more fucking ammo, damn it!" |
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Smith noticed the gurgled cries of pain, and the agonal gasps of finals breaths from his comrades inside his truck. His precious ammo wasn't coming, and he couldn't afford to duck down into the truck and retrieve it himself. |
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In a final effort, Smith released the butterfly grips and deftly pulled his M4 carbine out from behind the hatch. In one, magically lithe motion, he opened the 40mm launcher, and chambered a round. He pulled the leaf sights up to his attackers; He had never even taken his eyes off of their dirty bearded faces. |
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"Eat this!" He growled, whilst pulling the trigger. |
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As you say, this product's safety is "waning": what's a potato's
half-life? |
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// "Eat this!" He growled, whilst pulling the trigger. // |
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[MikeD], you are Tom Clancy and we claim our five dollars..... |
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I neglected to include the ending, though: |
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There was a white hot flash of pain, and the detached feeling of mortal injury. |
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As Smith's spirit escaped him, he found a calm satisfaction from the last fleeting bit of sensory information: |
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The gentle hiss of a roasting potato. |
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