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The larger than life SAS patrol saw the explosions.
They danced and flickered and sang like a drum.
Then silence.

They know we're here.

Later, the SF men came across their enemy.
A thousand angry ragged heads.
All lined up and armed for suicide.
The SAS get captured!

World's best captured by muzzahs.

Lined up themselves, a speech is given.
Muzzah leader goes on about Allah and all.
Trooper Captain has a plan: a mad one.

A roll call will be made.

When Rollbottom's name is called, it's time.
He'll drop his trousers and moon his butt!
It'll be cold as they're so high up.

It begins.

Rollbottom?
Here Sir.
He got his chance to shine.
No longer a tour guide for no one but me.
Make us proud, friend.

Moons his butt and dances...

Later. The captured muzzahs, one thousand of them, are stressed.
In an American Gitmo stress position.
There's no escape!
Some do try in a French built Russian 'tank'.

It slides on the ice.

Tumbles off the edge of the mountain.
It's a four mile almost vertical drop to the bottom.
All eyes see the APC fall, becoming smaller.
It bounces a couple of times off cliffs.

Only stopping at the very bottom.

No fire but distant clangs.
No more escapes!
Over the edge with most of their arms.
Later. The SAS mission continues.






GIRLS, GUITARS, GATLING GUNS
Jimmy Boom Semtex

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