*SWAT MAGAZINE ISSUE TEN: OCTOBER 1998*
**********************************************************************
|		         .OPERATION DEADNED.			     |
|                          By 3viL ()n!oN	     		     |
----------------------------------------------------------------------

The purpose of this article is to educate - this is what happens to 
anyone who fucks with SWAT. We will NOT tolerate wankers in Kappa 
tracksuits pissing off any of our members. Especially me. You may be 
interested to know that Fuck Boy (His name is Phillip something, 
hereafter refered to as FB) is a friend of the target of Doh Boy's 
chargecard scam. Hee Hee.

 This operation was carried out by myself and Brackis (general 
destruction); Mystress (Lookout and assistant car-destroyer);
Zumbi(Car Destroyer) and The Doh Boy (lookout and phreak). 
Cheers, guys.

The op. started with a recon. mission involving myself and Zumbi. We 
managed to track FB to his house without him spotting us, and we got 
his address. We then buggered off sharpish, and noted various routes of
escape. I then produced a beautiful, hand-drawn map with the location 
of FB's house, the nearest PCP, escape routes, rendezvous points and 
the nearest big, grey, "High Voltage" box. Zumbi took security notes: 
Positions of alarms, infra-red lamps, car-alarms, all that crap. Then 
the op. got under way...

RED SECTION: Brackis and 3vil ()n!on 
Our mission was to fuck the guy's house over without waking people up. 
Tricky? Not really. We decided to leave all the loud shit 'till last, 
so we would be long gone b4 anyone could do anything about it. The 
first thing we did was to bleach a large dick onto his front lawn. 
While Brackis was expressing his creativity, I was using a catapult to 
launch burning, napalm-soaked bog roll at the walls. Remember, kids: 
the higher up you get it, the harder it is to get rid of.
  If you want to know the full extent of what we did to this guy, read 
the cookbook article: "Operation Fuckup". We also demolished his garden
shed with the aid of a sledgehammer and a small crowbar. Pieces of shed
were left burning merrily all over his garden. Brackis happened to 
notice an open window in Fuck Boy's downstairs bathroom. Said bathroom 
soon found itself well soaked in petrol. We then took turns to see who
could get a piece of flaming shed through the window first. Brackis 
won. It was at this point we decided to run like fuck...

GREEN SECTION: Zumbi and Mystress
While all this was going on, Zumbi was busy decorating Fuck Boy's car 
with a blowtorch. FB had two cars, but only one with an alarm. Zumbi 
couldn't believe his luck. He tore the bonnet open with a crowbar (We 
raided a small warehouse only a few days before. We got tools, 
chemicals, all kinds of shit) and began levering bits off the engine.
He then smashed the windscreen and filled the entire car with nice 
brown surprises. (There used to be a dogshit bin attached to a lampost 
in this guy's street. Not any more...)
Mystress was busy fixing a length of catgut over FB's front door. 
At neck height. She's one sick puppy. At about the same time, Me and 
Brackis were filling that bathroom with petrol. We all had walkie-
talkies so we could time the op. to perfection. Mystress took the 
crowbar and dented every single panel on the already well-fucked car. 
Zumbi chipped the petrol cap off the other car (setting off the alarm)
and popped a handful of "car boom" capsules (there's a file on these 
somewhere) and some water into the petrol tank. By this time we were 
all running as fast as poss. The explosion was fucking incredible, and 
this was after we had been running for about 5 minutes.

BLUE SECTION: The Doh Boy
Doh Boy opened up the PCP and Beige Boxed the fucker's line. He used 
call forwarding (*21*, I think) and forwarded all FB's calls to an 
international gay porn number. Wait 'till Auntie Agnes gets an earful
of that one! And wait 'till Fuck Boy's fone bill comes in! Hee Hee! 
There were only 3 lines in that PCP-FB lived in quite a remote area. 
The Doh Boy powered all 3 lines down-no-one calls the pigs 'till we 
leave. He then pissed off to the nearest fone box and fax back attacked
FB 6 times. And yes, he powered down the fone box on the way out.
We then took our individual escape routes, met up at the rendezvous, 
and changed out of our black gear and into the less suspicious clothing
we had stashed the day before. We then skipped back to Brackis' house 
for tea and cakes......

SECURITY- Wear black, but have a change of clothes stashed or u will 
          look damned suspicious.
        - Get a hat. One of those ones made from the stretchy material.
          You know. Look like this
         _( )
         [___]...well, kind of. You can cut eyeholes just under the 
        folded bit, then when u pull the folded bit down...BINGO! 
        Instant balaclava. Can be made back into an ordinary hat at
        any time, thus avoiding suspicion... 
        -We pulled this op. off at 2:30 am. Do likewise
        -ALWAYS plan ahead 
        -ALWAYS listen to me. I know loads more than you do. Bitch.

If you want to ask me about any of my philes, personal problems u might
have, or how anyone can consume so much booze then e-mail me at 
Onion_666@yahoo.com, and I'll try to be civil in my response....