Ok, someone's gotta write the next part...someone with...intrigue...someone with...better grammar and who uses less elipsises...es...

Another chapter of Supercrew, slightly on the dark side. It's time for some intrigue! 

Okay, so I'm a complete loser, and forgot to post this! For my birthday, Jason wrote "Supercrew: Year One" which shows the team in their humble beginnings. Thank you, Jason! And enjoy! 

So I wrote another chapter.  And it should be good.  I hope.  Funny at the least...k? ***And I added a couple sentences to the end, because I totally learned this in class last night! B*** Jason? Rachelle? Your turn!

If the Supercrew were South Park characters, this is what we would look like (www.sp-studio.de)

( d-d-d-damn! That's hot.  )

I have been writing part of the story.  It's much more fun than writing about Poxy.  And now!  I would put it behind a cut but for some reason, stupid LJ won't let me.

“This is really starting to smart now.” Rachel winced as she tried to sit more comfortably.
“Smart?  Starting to smart?  What are we in now, the 50’s?  Have we gone back in time?” Brenda said, beginning to pry open the door. 
She popped her head around the corner and looked both ways, before her eyes came to rest on Greg poking his gun around the corner to check the coast was clear.  However, she saw that everyone else had already started down the hall way.  Rachel rolled out of the door way and into the hall, stretching her legs out as she did.
“Oooh Door-holding-charliehorse!” she rubbed her calf and stopped dead at the sound of footsteps.  In one other wise awkward but fluid movement she pulled her gun out (something that Phil had forgotten to take off her hands) and had it pointed directly in Jonny’s face.
“Hey Rach.” He said smiling mischieviously.
“Oh it’s just you.”  She holstered her gun back in her shirt and smiled back.
Greg did a couple dive rolls and kicks before he joined the rest of them, who were talking to Brenda about what happened.
“I still don’t understand who would hire Phil for ANYTHING covert.” She sighed and rolled her eyes.
“We should probably get back to looking for stuff now.” Linnet said, clinging to Brenda’s arm.
“What kind of information are we looking for?” Rachelle queried as they started down the hall way.
Everyone went quiet, and thought about it.
“Incriminating information?” Kerry put forward.
This was followed by more silence.  They had reached the end of the insanely long hallway, at which there was a door that stated Restricted: Authorized Personnel Only, in big red letters. 
“Well crap, what do we do now?” Jason sighed defeatedly. 
Lindsay reached out and turned the door knob, and the door swung open.
“That’s some high security they have here.”
Greg stepped forward and barred the door.
“We should send someone in first, to make sure it’s safe.”  He whipped out his gun and did the most James Bond pose he could think of.
Everyone gave him a bewildered look, but acquiesced to his theory.  He pressed himself against the door jam, then turned into the doorway very quickly, gun outstretched in front of him.  He disappeared around the corner, everyone leaning and craning their necks to follow him.  There was a moment of silence, as everyone waited for Greg to return or for a gun shot.
The silence was broke by a distant “Hwwwwaaaaaah!” then a thump noise, and the sound of something being ripped off.  Then Greg reappeared in front of the door.
“Coast is clear.” He said as he holstered his gun.  Everyone entered the room, and looked around.  The walls of the room were windows out onto the massive workfloor of the plant, with metal catwalks zigzagging across the room above large machines, and turbines and other loud machines.  The people working amongst the machines looked like ants compared to the large machines they were working on.  On the other side of the room lay a bank of computers with flashy lights and monitors, and on the floor next to it, a man laying face down with blood trickling from his downturned face.
Rachel ran across the room to the man, and put her fingers on his throat.
“He’s still alive.” She said, looking at Greg.
“Yeah no, I just knocked him out.  I didn’t kill him.” He acted insulted.
“You at least could have flipped him over so he could breathe better.  And so he wasn’t drowning in the pool of blood coming from his nose.” She said, pointedly.
“I didn’t break his nose.  He must have done that when he fell out of the chair.” Greg said.
“That’s besides the point!” Rachel spat.
“She’s right, the point is, to get information!” Mike said, sliding into a chair in front of one of the computers.  “Crap.  It’s in Spanish, or Columbianese…and I know very little about computers.”
“It’s time for Rachelle or Greg to break out some of their mad hacking skillz, with a Z!” Rachel said, as she propped the unconscious form of the guard against the wall.
“I snagged his keycard.” Greg held up a card with a string hanging down off of it.
“And these are Macs” Rachelle said, as she shoved Mike out of the way.  “Look out information!  Your end is nigh!” She snatched the card from Greg’s hand and jammed it into the card slot by the monitor.  Her hands danced across the keyboard, the sound of clicking filling the room. 
“What did you find out?” Kerry said, unable to contain her excitement.
“Still trying to turn the language to English.” She muttered.
Everyone crowded around the screen, watching over her shoulder.  Greg strayed from the group to look out the window onto the massive plant.  He watched as he saw a figure dressed like the unconscious guard walk up to someone who looked like a worker.  There was a second of talking, and pointing.  Then the guard punched the worker, who hit the ground pretty fast.  None of the other workers came to his defence.  The guard pointed somewhere else, then stormed off, leaving the worker to get up himself.  Greg scowled at the guard. 
“Remind me to kick his ass later” he muttered in a rather superhero-ish voice.