>Crossing the Mediterranean salt wastes in the mad max apocalypse where the oceans are all gone for some reason
>Out of the haze of heat distortion along the horizon a shape appears, blocky and tall
>An incomprehensible sound carries over the burning salty ground, distorted and interrupted by static
>The shape draws closer, like a building trudging across the dry seabed, and the sound becomes clearer
>Closer still, you can make out the figure standing on the platform, clothed in a long forgotten flag and gesticulating wildly as he speaks into a microphone
> Men-a, alla thisa stuffa you hear-a abouta America nota wanting to fighta, wanting to stay outa the war, isa lota horse dung-a. Americans love-a to fighta. Alla real Americans love-a the sting-a ana clash-a of battle. Whena you were kidsa, youa alla admired the championa marble shooter, the fastesta runner, the biga-leagua ball players anda the toughest-a boxers. Americans love-a a winner anda willa nota tolerate-a a loser. Americans play-a to win alla the time-a. I wouldn't giva a hoot-a ina hell for a man-a who lost-a, anda laughed. That'sa why Americans have-a neva lost-a anda will neva lose-a war.

Where-a yah goeen, mia generale?

>>64067221 (OP)
Fine Corvid engineering

>torre d'assedio

>>64067281
>We-a drive for Tunisa, because-a we smash-a the Lybians armor from-a atopa the Aegadian mountanas with mi mighty artigllerya anda tanks-a
>So we-a go, to besiege-a the-a city that must-a alaways-a be-a destroyed, before-a the trucks-a of the Ethiope come-a to seal-a the prize

>>64067343
Great leader is dead. Solo Nobre must fall.

>>64067221 (OP)
>>64067343
Somebody go to Wasteland Weekend and show these to one of the mechanics.

>>64067343
>>64068348
>Brigador