Otstanding. Loved the idea!

Now you're all saying how great it is :D Really there's no need, I just wanted to point out something that kept bugging all reporters. Thanks for the constructive criticism hogree, I will put a summary before each one. And I don't know if I'm ready for the "Hog Approval" just yet :P

Good one indeed! I'm glad we have an informative article for Halloween :)

Thanks for your opinion Gold. In the beginning I almost thought it was one of those generic replies, but fortunately you had some logical premises to write that. See, I don't want to sound like "I'm not getting enough appreciation, I'm obsessed with attention" but I will not deny that I'm extremely frustrated with the common forumer's inability to successfully read, comprehend and appreciate a story. Not just my franchises, but all of the others. I write my texts with a hint inside, a hint the beauty of which can only be understood by a person who values creative writing and is able to "see through" the text, to see all the allusions to real life and the messages I'm desperately trying to convey to you people. Stories aren't about the pretty writing, they are about the inside meaning of the story, the one only a competent reader notice. I can't just blatantly shout at you whatever I have to say about the world's current problems just like that, that's not my style. I will rather put it into creative writing that can be understood by an avid reader. Unfortunately very, very, VERY few of you here are actually capable of seeing the messages of my stories and I really don't care how harsh this sounds anymore, I refuse to write anything more for this community of people who are only interested in guides and interviews. Oh, silly me!! And I thought the newspaper was a place where flairs for creative writing could actually be developed and valued, but alas, it is like every other place full of buffoons who cannot feel the inner beauty of a seemingly simple, catchy yet wise piece of writing. I suppose I will continue with writing generic guides, garage analyses and interviews, none of which demonstrate ANY means of creativity, since (the majority of) my readers have utterly failed to understand what my writing actually means, proving the literary hopelessness of this community's self-proclaimed literary critics. Having said that, I will keep my writing only for my school's newspaper and all you will get will be boring old guides. I am sorry to have failed to convey to you my way of taking a story and giving it a beating heart. THE END.

Leaps of faith with a Wasp-Smoky didn't feel as fulfilling before I knew exactly how epic they were on the scale to 10 ^_^

Indeed very well written. One can see from a distance that you've put effort into this. Great job!

Great one! How many parts do you intend to write? :)

That's all the appreciation I get? I'm sorry for the negativity, but I think this is the line right here. You people aren't getting any more stories from me. The complete uncut manuscript of The Crisis will be available on MS Word soon.

Depends on the workload I have for the week. Sometimes I play something like 30 minutes per week, but mostly I spend about an hour in battle every day

Tanki gets terrible FPS when played from school. I had to actually use IE instead of chrome because it lagged less.. the horror. Anyway, this made me wonder.

And a slightly upgraded version.. :P

See part 1 | See part 2 “It tastes stale” Noted Paul, eating an apple. “Stop eating the people’s food!” - Said Emma, shifting toward her camera operator. “Where did you find this, anyway?” “There’s a bowl of fruit over there on the bar.” The two were sitting opposite one another on a couple of sofas in the lounge section of The Hideout. It was a large, tidy room, marble walls, luminescent lamps, a small kitchen in one of the corners. There was a large Persian carpet on the tile floor, a bit too posh for Emma’s liking, but yet it gave the room a more homely atmosphere. It would normally be a place for relaxation, but that day its coziness couldn’t be felt. There was just too much tension in the air. As if to confirm that, Emma kept fidgeting in her sofa, while Paul was subliming his apprehension by stuffing himself with whatever food he found lying around. A clang came from down the hallway, followed by a colorful burst of cussing. Michael was trying to bring back some of the tanks to service, without much luck apparently. Joe and Jack were also shuffling around the place, trying to help. None of them had a master’s degree in mechanics, so they couldn’t do much about converting the machines from working with fossil fuel power to electrical generators. Joe in particular didn’t fancy that – the petrol junkie tried numerous ways to start up one of the tanks using alternative fuels. As if governed by some divine will he perseveringly experimented with many flammable liquids, which could potentially replace the “deleted” petrol. He began with refining tar, crude oil, then tried to use cooking oil, then switched to spirit-containing medical substances from the first aid kits. Finally he gave up and just poured a few bottles of whiskey into the fuel tank of a Wasp and pushed the throttle. The result was a burned engine compartment and a putrid scent they couldn’t get rid of for hours. Paul and Emma just sat in the lounge as they couldn’t provide any help. They had turned the TV on to view some of the news reports about the catastrophe. Apparently The Hideout bunker was one of the few places that could run entirely off replenishable energy. Around the world factories were shutting down, refineries were on fire, cities remained without electricity and all civil industries were malfunctioning. The tank divisions were useless, as there was no fuel and the engineers never predicted that the machines might ever need to run off anything besides regular petrol. Someone had to come up with a solution otherwise the crisis would go completely out of control. On every channel was a petite young woman much like Emma, explaining the situation with a concerned grimace on her face. Emma wasn’t too impressed. “Look at them all, The situation borders only with the level of ridicule of Catch-22…” – She hissed. “Do they even know what Catch-22 is?!... Such amateurs…” “Yes Emma, we all know that you would have done the report twice as well… do we have to go over this every time?” Emma glanced at the frustrated Paul and then directed her attention back to the TV, making a somewhat snobby aristocratic gesture with her head. “Rather than lolling around we should try to help… What caused this? There’s no way all the fuel and only the fuel in particular disappeared just like that…” “Come on, I believe there’s a perfectly logical–“ “Do you seriously think such a thing can happen naturally, Paul? There is no earthly way…” “You’re not saying…” “There is not a possible way something from this world could have done this!” “Oh my…” Paul looked puzzled “You really are mad.” Jackson walked in the room to grab a drink. He was all covered in motor oil, in a good attempt to pretend he had been doing something productive for the tank problem. “So you think the aliens did it? Hehe, and I thought Joe was crazy about his petrol..” “But there’s no other explanation!” Cried Emma. “Everyone calm down” – Michael’s voice came from the maintenance hall once again. “Whatever it is, it’s causing havoc and we don’t want that. There’s something out there that’s messing with our lives and we don’t want it.” – Mike came and sat next to Emma. “Nor do we know what it is…” commented Joe, who had also came into the lounge, just as successfully covered in motor oil as Jack, to pretend as if he’d been working. “Great,” Started Emma. “Now that we’re all here, what do you think it is?” “Anything out of place in town recently? “Besides the massive fires and the debris everywhere?” “Hush… how about these clean new buildings that are poking out like mushrooms everywhere?” – Continued Emma. Michael took the remote control and rolled back one of the news reports, back to a segment in which the buildings were filmed at a better angle. “Gas stations?” “My my… If it’s not obvious enough… Gentlemen, and lady, we have a job.” “Good, Mike, you located the imposter but what do you think we will get rid of it with?” wondered Joseph. Michael looked Jackson and Joseph in the eyes. They were having one of those silent eye-conversations. In the end they seemed as if they had negotiated enough: Michael had an angry look on his face while Joe and Jack were plainly disturbed. Emma and Paul wished not to interfere. “So… we’re going to use the… really?” Joe asked. “There is no other way, forget classified, we’ll need the best we can afford.” “True. After all these things could be armed with some alien technology, who knows…” “Am I the only one who doesn’t know what you’re referring to?" asked Emma, but soon realized her simple-mindedness. “Ah, Team Molotov tech… okay, my eyes are closed.” “You learn fast, girl” Mike noted, smiling. “To the hangars!” “Wait, wait, wait. We don’t have fuel, have we? How do you think we’ll drive those machines over there?” Jack asked. Immediately after he had asked that he saw the bracelet Mike was wearing on his wrist. It could hardly be called a bracelet, in fact, as it covered Mike’s entire arm almost until the elbow. It was a solid metal gadget, with yellow marking paint and multiple flashing screens and buttons. A ranged electronics control array. Team Molotov used those to control the repairing bots in the maintenance hall. What could have Mike converted it into? “I tweaked the electronic support bracelets to be able to integrate with the tanks’ ‘Asclepius’ piloting grid. You can use them to their full extent now.” “Wait, you’re saying you have the electric generators installed already? That was past…” Everyone examined Michael’s body. His hair had been electrocuted several times by the looks of it, and his skin was nicely burned by a 240V lightning bolt or two. “Yeah… The tanks are ready for service. I installed generators in just 3 of our Vikings and they won’t be able to reach max speed either, so get ready.” “Get ready for what Michael?” “At dawn, we’re going to save the world.” ... Perm, Russia, Tanki Online HQ. The devs were casually chatting and sitting back in their chairs, enjoying their cup of coffee. Everyone was waiting for the fuel update to get integrated in the servers for 24 hours, and then it would be successfully installed. “We just have to let the servers “accept” the update, since its such a fundamentally changing update… It will take some time.” Little did they know that as they spoke counter measures were being taken against this update within the servers themselves… ... Headlights. Headlights in the dark. A buzz. An electrical buzz. It sounded like a simple hair drier at first, then escalated to the volume of an industrial fan, then the whizz of a turbofan, then the roar of a turbojet… The earth was shaking beneath the tracks of Team Molotov’s elite vehicles, the very same ones that were banned from entering every clan tournament there was. The same beasts Emma would have been paid thousands to catch on camera. These beasts were now in service. Even though not in their full potential due to the lack of their engines, they were roaring proudly with their shiny new electric reactors. Michael pushed the throttle of his M5 Viking and the ground trembled. The very pebbles in the cobblestone pathway in front of The Hideout were turning into sand grains from the vibrations of the millions of watts, which were condensed in those reactors. The air was filled with a deafening sizzle of pure electricity in the air. “Yes! ‘Asclepius’ piloting grid!” – Michael was ecstatic, peeking out through the cupola of the flagship Viking, admiring how well his creations were performing. He had even tweaked the exterior of the vehicles, applying a hardcore flame-inspired paintjob, which made the tanks look even more ready to rock and roll. Those were the meanest eco-friendly machines someone could possibly imagine. “We have about 40 miles to get there” After about an hour of cruising, during which the convoy scared every living thing that was close to the road, they all reached the town. Emma was destined to film some of the demolitions that were about to take place so she insisted that the trio would take them along for the tour de force. As result Emma was packed with Michael in the flagship, while Paul and Jack were riding behind. The friendly looking tidy gas stations were slowly consuming the city – the update was being assimilated. As they drove into one of the outermost alleys, Mike commanded to turn on the high density capacitor which would power the weapons of demolition. The buzz began again. This time the Viking’s suspension were standing still. All the power was diverted towards the magnificently upgraded Ricochets, pieces of technology that only Team Molotov could afford. These weapons could be compared to an M5 or M6 version of the regular gun everyone purchases. After that blazing balls of supercharged plasma began being shot out of the Ricochet’s nozzles, flying at an insane velocity to the nearest structures they could come into contact with. Walls were wrecked, doors were shattered, glass was spilled everywhere and fires engulfed the areas around the newly emerged gas stations once again. In a couple of hours the tanks had entirely depleted the reserves in their reactors. A steady layer of smoke from all the rubble was mixed up with the morning haze. The city was cleared of all imposter structures once and for all. Michael and Emma and Joseph and Paul and Jackson and every one for the citizens brave enough to leave the emergency bunkers were standing bestowed in this mixture of morning fog and burning wreckage from the gas stations. The community could begin rebuilding once again. “So… how many spare beds do you have at The Hideout again?” – Emma asked. Everyone laughed. They had left the city in a bigger state of destruction than they’d found it, but it was all for the better. The sun rose from underneath the smoking wreckage, revealing the destruction. Yet, there was a feeling of purity among everyone. It was a sort of a new beginning. “Good morning, guys.” giggled Emma almost imperceptibly. “Good morning to you too.” ... Perm, Russia, Tanki Online HQ. A new day, a fresh day. As the technical staff sat on their workstations for the new day they were greeted by a new surprise – an error message on the screen of every computer that had been monitoring the update progress among the servers. They all read one thing: Update 225 ~ Status: Rejected.

*Regular day for a Pz.Kpfw. I Ausf. C* "Commander, I see targets up ahead!" "Good spot driver, but we're cruising at 90mph and we ain't got no brakes!" "Negative!" *Pulls hand brake* TATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATA "Enemy vehicle destroyed!" "Quick, up that hill!" "Target locked sir" "Fire!" TATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATA *AMX 38 rolls down the road* "AMX gunner: what's that racket?" "Driver: Hail I guess, lets move on" *Pz. I C finds the arty* *Commander, we have clear view of the SPG's!" TATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATA "Enemy vehicle destroyed!" "They're knocked out, find another target!" *Goes back down the hill, AMX still chilling at 0.2mph* TATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATA "AMX commander: Darn that hail today!" *shoots angrily in the abyss* "Pz. I C driver: Commander, the fuel tank's ruptured, the turret isn't moving and we've lost a track!" "Stupid lend-lease parts" "Up ahead!" TATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATA *Gets shot by Valentine AT* Results: 20k credits, 1500 exp, 13 vehicles spotted, 10 killed. Battle duration: 2 minutes 17 seconds. THE END.

That seems fair enough. I could also make a video or two of some Pz.I C shenanigans XD

It was intended as such. Thanks again Lhamster! :D

Okay guys, I need an epic pic. Epic as in legitimately holy-cow-my-eyes-are-gonna-explode photoshop masterpiece. If anyone can help please PM me. Urgent.

And I approve of his content as well :P Keep up the good work Fjelstad!

Glad I could help :)

Why waste drugs alone, when you can do it with friends? :P

It's not sad, the guy's being logical :) In order to properly develop in a game you need to be 100% devoted to it and not to any other game. I admit that I could be doing a lot better in tanki if I wasn't actively playing 2 other games.

Pretty much. No hard feelings for the OP, but you could've done better..

^ This reminds me of the fun story of how I am practically partnered with Exonia but I'm too darn lazy to link my adsense account to my paypal, in other words I have about 50 bucks somewhere out there waiting to be sent to me, but I don't give enough of a donkey's popsicle to actually claim them. Ah, procrastination gets you nowhere XD

So you're here for a serious one? *ultimate forever alone line* XD

I'm quite a nerd when it comes to youtube :P I like to have all my facts straight.