EPIC

The year is 2001; we are secretly stationed in Iraq. Blood spills like an overflowing faucet onto the hands of our leaders. Desperately do we beg to eliminate our presence overseas, but never shall such demands succeed; so we found a "wild card."

Hope has been reignited, and our savior awaits, unknowingly, for his inevitable beckon. From a small town in Iowa, an unusual case was discovered. Ottumwa is the home for our salvation.

As his phone rings, we await the answer.

"Hello?" He spoke as he brought the phone to his mouth and ear.

"Our men are being camped by Osama Bin Laden, sir." We stated carefully, yet almost desperately.

"Where is he?" Replied our king

What happened next is not accurately known, but I will tell you the tamest of explanations that have been proposed:

Our rescuer walked to his front door, and kicked it outward in an explosive display of holiness. Strolling outside nonchalantly, and away from his home, he finally found a particular spot, and stood still. Moments later his body erupted in darkness, shadows consuming his cosmetic being, and then he mounted a black drake, the likes of which the world hath never witnessed. He began his flight to Iraq.

[Military Base Posted In Iraq]

"We've got a bogey coming in hot!" Cried a private who was, at the time, monitoring the radar scanners.

"That's not a bogey, son. That would be our last hope." His Sergeant responded.

"Who? What?" Asked the private curiously.

"Darlough." At that exact moment, the moment of the Sergeants response, Darlough cratered directly into the middle of a raging battle in the inner parts of Iraq.

"Darlough!" Cried a fellow soldier on his last limb, with his near-final breath. In no hesitation, Darlough jumped out of shadow-form, and launched a massive heal towards the brave soldier, at that time his limbs were reunited with his body and back to the fight he ran.

As he continued healing, a Humvie speedily rolled up to his side. A man on the inside was screaming out of the microphone: "TERRORIST AGRRO!"

In what seemed to everyone else like slow-motion, Darlough spun around, glaring menacingly at the on-coming, terror spreading mongoloids, and jumped back into shadow-form. With a swiftly executed Mind Blast, one opponent found himself in a pool of his own brains and skull fragments. While the second was having his mind flayed to unraveling and oozing pieces of gray-matter, the third and fourth ran in fear from Darlough's psychic scream. Moments later, both were vanquished. Then, Darlough rejoined the light, and proceeded to heal his fellow raid-members.

With the Humvie still on stand-by, a cry came out from the megaphone yet again: "THEY'RE DROPPING MUSTARD GAS!"

All soldiers within the ensuing battle scrambled to Darlough. And as he stood their, tall and mighty in the golden sun, waiting for every soldier to get within radius, he grinned.

Every soldier crammed as close to Darlough as possible, and soon all of them began to cough, leaning over, dry-heaving. From high above, as if from the heavens themselves came a quake of righteousness. As the ground around the soldiers ignited, their souls relaxed. The mass dispel of all illness for every soldier was a relief, and when they went to thank him, Darlough was gone.

[Inside Osama Bin Laden's Secret Cave]

With gibberish being spoken by the hording demons of Iraq, Darlough revealed his presence. As if from a western movie, the two leaders stared each other down. Osama reached for his AK-47, and began to unload upon Darlough. Darlough, with the power of his words, cast upon himself a shield, and stood healthily in excellent form.

All the while Osama had been peppering his shield with bullets, Darlough had lay upon him a curse of pain.

Soon, every soldier from before flowed into the cave, guns held high. The cave now consisted of 3 Iraqi's: Osama, and two henchmen, as well as 25 in opposition of the terrorists; Darlough leading.

"Kill the adds." Stated Darlough as he burst into the shadows and began flaying the right henchmen's mind. Soon the adds were eliminated, and only Osama was left standing.

"DoT's." Said Darlough to his crew.

"What?" Replied a nearby soldier in confusion.

"DoT's! DoT's, MORE DOT'S" Cried Darlough as Osama charged.

The sound of shaking Earth and quivering cave walls filled the area, and bursting from the outside and into the cave, came just what the entire group needed. As one soldier left quickly, the desired replacement entered.

"GET ON HIM NOW!" Screamed Darlough to the new member.

As the American Tank rushed to Osama, the battle began.

Osama Bin Laden pulled out two swords and began slicing at the tanks plate armor, but to no avail as Darlough was keeping the tank up.

"In phase 2, I want you to nuke it. NUKE IT AS HARD AS POS-SI-BLE!" Cried Darlough from the front of the pack. "More DoT's, keep throwing DoT's!"

As phase 2 soon began, Osama went into a blind rage. All damage was increased by 50% and the battle took a turn for the worst. Along with increased damage came Osama's most powerful attack, the "Dual-Plane."

From both arms, Osama Bin Laden launched two full-sized airliners out of the cave, across the ocean and into the twin towers.

"DPS him down!" Darlough cried, struggling to keep the tank up.

In a few later minutes, Osama Bin Laden fell. Everyone sat down and relaxed, rejoicing the slaying of such a ruthless human being. Until one soldier had to open his mouth.

"So... Um... What happened to those 2 planes?" He asked retardedly.

"Fuck." Said Darlough.

And so the tale of 9/11 is so. Darlough's presence was not with those in New York, and thus the outcome was grim.

Author's Note: Throughout the fight, the whelps that were spawning periodcally never got out-of-hand.