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"Okay people, listen up! Here's the battle plan: Jester, die stupidly by rushing the enemy base alone and unarmed. Bishop, head for the sniper's nest where you'll make no meaningful contribution whatsoever. Kai. Othello. You guys grab the tank and get it stuck between some trees. Player1, I want you to quit the game and go make some damn friends so you don't have to play with these bots all the time. What the hell is wrong with you, anyway?"
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"He's not just a regular moron. He's the product of the greatest minds of a generation working together with the express purpose of building the dumbest moron who ever lived."
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"You're in my way, sir."
Your teammates in SWAT 4. All the fucking time.
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It's not that the other monsters didn't look scary--they did--it's just that they were total idiots. When the Hell Knight got trapped behind a stack of crates, our hearts went out to him. It was like watching a three-legged puppy trying to catch a Frisbee.
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"It's not stupid, it's advanced!"
—Tallest Purple, introducing GIR, Invader Zim
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"That's not artifical intelligence, that's common fucking sense!"
Spoony, Let's Play Swat 4.
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"When the 'Drink' button is pressed it makes an instant but highly detailed examination of the subject's taste buds, a spectroscopic analysis of the subject's metabolism, and then sends tiny experimental signals down the neural pathways to the taste centres of the subject's brain to see what is likely to be well received. However, no-one knows quite why it does this because it then invariably delivers a cupful of liquid that is almost, but not quite, entirely unlike tea."
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"The problem with computers is that they're very sophisticated idiots."
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"All the bad guys know how to do is fly directly at you and fire. Actually, I'm not even sure they know how to do that. As an experiment, I went out to a navpoint with a single pirate, parked my ship, zero speed, stood up from the computer, and let the pirate attack my unmoving, completely defenseless ship. And do you know how long it took for that pirate to finally kill me? Neither do I, because he couldn't, fucking, do it."
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>match against chaos
>bring 2 mars BCs to ward off the inevitable bomber spam
>think I'm gold
>launch fighters and wait for the BEES
>BEES go after my lead dauntless
>burn retros and put it behind both mars BCs
>suddenly, torpedo launch to starboard
>it's way off course
>i lel
>suddenly, fighter screen runs after errant torpedoes
>bombers power through escort turrets via sheer weight of numbers
>dauntless reduced to less than half life in an instant

anonymous in /tg/ thread, on Battlefleet Gothic: Armada
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