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From Adalia: #13 - “A Failed - uhmm - Creatively Readjusted Plan”

"A Failed - uhmm - Creatively Readjusted Plan"

by Adalia

Rated G

Response to Jipster's Challenge Week – Challenges 13 and 14. See challenge requirements in the Challenges section on the VA Archive homepage.

Please Note: If any characters in this story in any way resemble any real people in name, description, action, or any other form, please understand that it is entirely by honest to goodness coincidence. <truly innocent grin>



Part One: "The Capture, or Hannibal's Plans Don't Always Work Quite Right"

BA saw the whole thing. Every painful moment of it. Each stage of Hannibal's plan had gone wrong in succession. He and Murdock had been on lookout while Hannibal and Face had moved on the dusty, abandoned warehouse, otherwise known as the slimeballs' headquarters, using one of Hannibal's classic frontal assaults with a half pincer movement.

It hadn't been frontal, since the front had been rather annoyingly well guarded they had been forced to go around the back instead. Murdock had gone with them to keep lookout on that side, while BA continued to watch the whole area from the tree he was sitting in on the edge of the clearing.

It also hadn't been much of an assault, the team was on the offensive for barely fifteen seconds during the whole fiasco.

The half pincer movement hadn't moved very far before it was turned into a half retreat movement, which hadn't worked very well either.

There really was no one to blame. They had of course all noticed at the same time when men with what bordered on light artillery came running out of the back door. But no one had seen the tractor.

The decrepit looking tractor had appeared as if from nowhere, nearly running over Face before its old and dying engine finally gave up the ghost. Its driver jumped out and had time to get in a few good punches on Face before he was grabbed by Hannibal, who had time to get in a few good punches on him before he was grabbed by three other goons, who had all the time in the world to drag the two of them into the warehouse. They were only distracted by Murdock for a moment as the pilot made a frantic attempt to save the situation. He was out of his head and babbling about a tractor appearing from the sky, so the bad guys merely
had to grab him and drag him inside, too.

Murdock was probably blaming himself, BA knew, because he was the one who was supposed to have been on lookout on that side of the warehouse.

BA had wisely stayed up in his tree. He noticed with some alarm that Face was unconscious, and that what Hannibal had earlier stated to be his last cigar was now nothing but a smudge in the dirt, having been dropped and stepped on during the scuffle.

Things did not look good.

Inside the warehouse, the three men had been left alone for the moment. Hannibal and Murdock were both tied up, but the unconscious Face had simply been dumped limply into a corner. Murdock was alternating between trying to get Face to wake up and ranting about the phantom tractor.


"Faceman isn't responding, colonel," Murdock stated. "I never saw the tractor. I just didn't see it and usually I'm twenty-twenty vision. It just appeared out of nowhere like superman!"

"Don't worry, Murdock. It'll take more than a tractor to stop the A-Team, even a super hero one," The colonel stated with a smirk. The situation looked bad and the team just waited for news.

Part Two: "The Escape, or Jipster To The Rescue!"
Required events/items in [ ].


BA was still up in his tree. He was working on a plan when he noticed a rather beautiful English woman walking towards him.

"Hello," she said pleasantly.

"Hello," he replied.

"I'm Jipster. I can help you," she stated.

"Help me?" he asked, confused.

"Hannibal's used a silly plan, hasn't he? They're all in there," she said, pointing towards the warehouse.

"I know how to get them out."

"You do?"



"Shall we, then?"


BA climbed down the tree and followed Jipster past the [tractor], now a useless heap, towards the warehouse. She nodded brightly to the guards at the door, who stared back dumbly as she led BA inside. They continued to stare dumbly, simply because they were not guards, but cheap cardboard cutouts. Jipster, in her infinite wisdom, had obviously known this. Once inside she lead him directly up to the lead slimeball. She tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey, you."

"What do you want?" the lead goon asked.

Jipster shrugged. "I just thought I should tell you that it's in your own best interest to let those men in the back room go now."

"And why's that?" the moron leader of the bad guys asked.

"Haven't you ever read the script!?" Jipster replied incredulously. Knowing what was coming, [BA giggled].

"Don't think so . . . not recently . . ." the various goons replied.

Jipster shook her head in disgust. She produced a script labeled "The A-Team." BA and the goons gathered around her as Jipster flipped through the pages until she reached a scene near the end.

"See? It says it right here. The A-Team will not only escape, but they will get all of you thrown into jail in the process," Jipster said, pointing at the page.


"Are you sure?" the lead goon asked.

"Afraid so," Jipster replied. "There's really no point to all this. You can just let them go and turn yourselves in to save everyone the big fight scene."

"You know, I rather think you have a point," the slimeball said. He tossed a his keys to BA and rounded up his men. "It's unfair when the writers like your enemies better."

Jipster and BA nodded in sympathy as the slimeballs left, grabbing their cardboard fellows and driving off to turn themselves in.

Jipster followed BA into the back room, greeting Hannibal with a cheerful wave. "You should come to my place for [Christmas]. I'll bake [a potato or two]."

Hannibal grinned as BA untied him. Jipster followed him over to Face.

"Looks bad," she said.

"He's okay," Hannibal replied.

"I meant his necktie," Jipster said in disgust at [Face's bad choice in neckties].

As the others left BA looked at Jipster and said,
"Thanks, little mama."

"What?" she replied, not hearing him.

"I said thanks, little mama," he repeated.

"Oh, you're welcome, BA. You'd better go with the others, Face might need some medical attention." As she watched BA walk away she muttered to herself, "I thought he called me Listmom. I need some tea."



A Failed - uhmm - Creatively Readjusted Plan by Adalia



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