{Happy Halloween 2017!! Trick or Tank...Ah (O.O)}

~~GREEN FLAME!

In this world of waving deserts and travelling rogues, everything was mobilized through the territories by the power of tanks. They came in all models, many of them relics from ancient wars in the past. To be frank, half were recovered from being halfburied in mud and snow in some parts of the world. The rest were all procured from abandoned military museums as well as empty military bases.

Times have not been pleasen to the surviving scrap of humanity left on this dune plane.

“Capricorn, are you driving properly? We’re going in a zig-zag! I can’t fire the gun like this!”

“This is an old British Sailiing technique. Swaying out hips left and right should avoid enemy attack.”

There was a little tank prowling across the dune sea. It looked rusted, almost ready to fall aprt, but surprisingly had a super tought engine that could endure the harsh and hot environments of a world-wide Sahara desert.

ON closer inspection, this tank could be recognized as a Renault FT. To be frank, it was a type of tank model seen right after World War II. A French built heavy armor vehicle that was recognized as the ‘first modern’ tank prior anyone dreaming of a Second World War.

A 6.5 ton light tank, 5 meter in length, 1.7 meter in width, and had a height of about 2 meters. It was recognized to be a revolutionary machine as it was the first post-World War 1 tank to have a rotating 37 mm Puteaux gun. It was capable of launching high-impact steel cannon rounds at 15 rounds per minute with a muzzle velocity of 600 meters per second.

Even before the rise of the Second World War, with the advancement of tank technology and design, it was considered the king of modern tanks, if not the hottest on the market.

In terms of crew, it was roomy enough to who two people. One driver. One commander.

“Capricon! Bank left! Bank left!”

“… Can’t. It only turns right.”

“F**K YOU!”

The little Renault FT could be seen swerving a hard right across the dune flats. It left a notable tire tracks into the sand, but the harsh wind was strong enough to sweep it with an invisible brush. That, or a [email protected] cannon shot popping a 5 meter wide hole right behind them did the trick.

“Screw it. Just drive straight at them and keep your pace steady. I’m going to shoot these @sholes before they finish reloading!”

“… Sounds dangerous. Don’t I get a pay hefty raise for this?”

“Don’t make me add you as a battering ram.”

The two crew inside the Renault FT were bickering, like always. The one driving the small light tank was a girl with delicious chocolate-tan skin. She had her hands on various levers and her feet on pedals wrapped in clothe to keep the metal from burning her bare feet. For some reason, she was naked, maybe it was the fact the AC wasn’t working today.

The one manning the revolutionary gun turret with a short high-impact barrel was a girl with a long ponytail. She had her eyes narrowed through the view port, which was no wider than the opening of a mailbox, and muttered some numbers under her breath. Fortunately, she was wearing a tube tope and hot pants, unlike her bare counterpart.

“Distance to enemy is 150 meters and closing. Get in real close so I can hammer this guy like sh*t!”

“I see where the term ‘you looked like hammered sh*t’ came from.”

The commander of the vehicile kicked the driver in the back of the head. The tank swerved right again.

“CAPRICORN! YOU SCREWED UP MY AIM! HURRY AND TURN THIS THING AROUND!”

“…Won’t we be showing our fat @ss to them? That's clearly sending them an invitation to clearly violate us from behind... We girls are very delicate.”

“THIS ISN’T THE TIME TO SLIP IN AN INNEUNDO!”

The Renault FT turned to the right again. It was capable of moving forward, but it could be the fact it was forgotten to the curel hands of time, most of its functions were limited if not faltering. To survive a sneeze the right way without falling apart would be a miracle. Let along get hit by a tank shell.

“I don’t care how we’re going to do this! I’m definitely going to get their bounties today even if it’s the last thing I do! I haven’t had a decent meal in seven days! I’m sick of rations and filtered water! I want sparkling champaigne on red lamb with mushroom sauce! [email protected], I want a bath – No! A Five star Spa treatment!”

“…Hmm…”

“Wh-what now, Capricorn?”

“If we get their million dollar bounty, I want a parade.”

The commander kicked the driver in the back of the head, and their tank swerved right. The Renault FT light tank then fell into a ditch, losing the sight of their bounty altogether.