Fleetwood Mac - Seven Wonders So long ago In Super Trench's land Certain place Certain time, I took a stand You grabbed my shovel All the way All the way down to the trench's floor But if our bullets never cross Well, you know I'm sorry but If I live to see the seven blunders I'll make a dash through the bullets' blend I'll never find a game that's quite as wacky and grand The battlefield's end So it's hard to find Someone with such chaotic glee You grabbed my shovel, I dug in deep And you lobbed a grenade at me But if our paths never cross Well, you know I'm sorry but If I live to see the seven blunders I'll make a dive into the enemy's den I'll never find a game as mad and insane The trenches' end So long ago In the trenches' line It's a certain time You lobbed a grenade and you grinned All the way back, you threw your pin If I hope and if I pray Ooh, it might explode someday If I live to see the seven blunders I'll make a dash through the chaos, my friend I'll never find a game with as much laughter and pain The trenches' end If I live to see the seven blunders I'll make a dive into the enemy's den I'll never find a game as mad and insane The trenches' end If I live to see the seven blunders I'll make a dash through the chaos, my friend I'll never find a game with as much laughter and pain The trenches' end Dad’s Army Takes on Super Trench Attack: A "Strategic" Disaster—And a Pixelated Laugh Riot! [The scene opens in the warmly lit village hall, with the Dad’s Army platoon huddled around a flickering TV. A well-loved game console sits atop a stack of ration boxes, its wires tangled like a battlefield map gone wrong. The air is thick with the scent of tea and the sound of button mashing.] Captain Mainwaring: Gentlemen, tonight we embark on a campaign of great importance. Super Trench Attack will test not only our strategic prowess but also our ability to adapt under pressure. Think of it as a war simulation—only without the mud. Or, heaven forbid, the Krauts. Sergeant Wilson: (sipping tea) Oh, really, sir? I do hope this “campaign” involves less marching and more sitting comfortably. My knees aren’t what they used to be. Private Frazer: Aye, and if it’s like yer real campaigns, Mainwaring, we’ll end up stuck in no man’s land with nary a clue how to get out! [Mainwaring ignores him, gesturing to the TV screen where the game’s logo proudly displays pixelated soldiers. The upbeat music begins, and Private Pike grabs the controller.] Private Pike: Blimey, this looks brilliant! What do I do first? Ooh, look—buttons! [The game begins, and chaos instantly takes hold. Pike’s soldier spins wildly as he accidentally shoots his rifle into the air, drawing enemy attention.] Private Walker: (laughing) Steady on, Pike! You’re scaring the pigeons, not the enemy. That’s what you get when the army recruits toddlers. Private Pike: (panicking) Help! They’re all shooting at me! What’s the reload button? I’m out of ammo! Captain Mainwaring: (grabbing the manual) Good grief, Pike, show some backbone! Let me see here... Reload is the left trigger. Or was it the right? Blast these instructions; they’re written in gibberish! [As Mainwaring fiddles with the manual, Walker takes over and immediately starts lobbing grenades indiscriminately, taking out half the friendly forces.] Private Walker: (grinning) Cor, this is fun! Who needs strategy when you’ve got firepower? Reminds me of that time I “borrowed” a box of fireworks for a New Year’s bash. Best display the village ever saw—though the vicar wasn’t too pleased about his burned hedgerow. Private Frazer: Ye daft loon, Walker! Save yer grenades for the enemy, not yer own side! Ye play this game like yer cooking—pure chaos! Private Jones: (jumping in) Don’t panic! Don’t panic! I’ve got this! (pauses the game accidentally) Oh dear, have I stopped the war? Was that the ceasefire button? [The room bursts into laughter as Mainwaring, red-faced, grabs the controller. He takes command, determined to show the others how it’s done. Within seconds, his soldier walks straight into an enemy trench, triggering an ambush.] Captain Mainwaring: (indignant) This is sabotage! Clearly, the game doesn’t recognize superior tactics. Wilson, take over while I regroup. Sergeant Wilson: (sighing) Very well, sir. (calmly picks up the controller) Oh dear, I appear to have walked into a landmine. What bad luck. Private Walker: (snorting) Luck’s got nothing to do with it, mate. You’re about as tactical as a broken compass. [Despite the fumbling, the platoon can’t stop laughing. The game’s bright visuals, retro charm, and unpredictable antics keep them glued to the screen. As they progress through the missions, they start commenting on the game itself.] Captain Mainwaring: (thoughtfully) For all its flaws, the game does capture the spirit of the trenches. The environments are well-designed—though I could do without the pixelated rats. Private Frazer: Aye, and what’s with the enemies? They’ve got the aim of snipers and the patience of saints. It’s like they ken what we’re thinking before we even move. Private Jones: That’s because we’re standing still, Mr. Frazer! Quick, press that sprinty button! Private Pike: (excitedly) Look! I’ve found a secret room with extra grenades! Captain Mainwaring: (sternly) No, Pike, don’t—(explosion)—throw them all at once. [The platoon takes a tea break, discussing the game over biscuits.] Sergeant Wilson: You know, it’s rather fun, once you get the hang of it. The humor is delightfully absurd—though I do wish the controls were a bit more, well... forgiving. Private Walker: Too right. It’s like trying to drive a lorry with no steering wheel. But hey, the explosions make up for it. Private Frazer: The game’s no bad, I’ll grant ye that. But if they’d give us more grenades and less of those blasted stealth missions, we’d be laughing. [They dive back in, eventually completing a level after hours of trial and error. Cheers erupt as they finally see a victory screen.] Captain Mainwaring: (beaming) Gentlemen, a resounding success! Let this be a lesson in perseverance and teamwork. Our tactical brilliance has triumphed once again! Sergeant Wilson: (under his breath) Tactical brilliance? More like sheer luck... [As the credits roll, the platoon shares their final thoughts.] Private Walker: It’s a laugh, I’ll give it that. A bit clunky, but it’s got charm. Reminds me of one of my “imported” films—rough around the edges but still entertaining. Private Frazer: If they patched up the controls and toned down the difficulty, it’d be a grand wee game. As it stands, it’s as maddening as Mainwaring in charge of the tea rota. Captain Mainwaring: (ignoring him) Indeed! A commendable effort by the developers. Now, shall we try the next level? Pike, grab the controller—try not to destroy everything this time. Private Pike: (grinning) No promises, Mr. Mainwaring! [The screen fades out as the platoon dives back in, their laughter echoing through the hall well into the night.] In trenches deep, where soldiers creep, 🕳️ A game unfolds, where fun's the keep. 🎮 With rifles high and boots that clack, 👢 We march into Super Trench Attack! 💥 Through mud and muck, we boldly stride, 🌧️ Our courage tested, side by side. 🤝 Enemies swarm, but we won't crack, 💪 In the chaos of Super Trench Attack! 🌟 Grenades fly, and bullets rain, 💣 But laughter echoes, not a strain. 😂 For in this game, there's no drawback, 🎉 Just pure joy in Super Trench Attack! 🎉 So let us charge, without a fear, ⚔️ In virtual wars, we'll persevere. 🚀 For victory's sweet, and there's no looking back, 🏆 In the wild world of Super Trench Attack! 🎖️
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