The Old Improbable Island Wiki

As you wander through the Jungle, you begin to wonder. You've been sent here not only to boost reviews on a sick and twisted reality T.V. show, but you've also been conscripted into a military that is in current war status against Improbability itself. From those thoughts you wonder where your squad-mates are and why no one has got your back in this jungle as you wander around out here all alone with just your weapon and armour. Wouldn't it be much more efficient to travel in packs or in small teams to fight against all these improbable monsters? These thoughts of war float around your mind and you stop paying attention to the jungle around you - you fail to realize that you've been walking across a large field for quite some time. Your train of thought stops dead after realizing that your question is solved by one simple answer; this is improbable island. Nothing logical is going to happen here. Get used to it. After that sudden revelation your brain is immediately shaken against your skull as something louder than the big bang itself explodes about thirty meters away. You fall to the ground and are met with only a steady buzz in your ears from the shell-shock. Adrenaline begins pumping into your brain and your disoriented senses are wiped away. Your mind screams Get down, under attack, and you comply by dropping to a prone position and covering the back of your neck with your hands. Then, after what seems like only half a second, you're dragged back to your feet by a man who's yelling at you. You can tell by the fact that his mouth is moving, not because your eardrums have stopped ringing. The man is carrying a rifle and is dressed in a mud and blood encrusted olive drab uniform with a metal helmet over his head. “Hell do you think you're doing out here?!” His roars become gradually audible over the buzzing from the shellshock, and along with it the constant chatter of gunfire and occasional explosion. You try to respond with a meek “Jungle fighting?” But you get pushed to the ground as another artillery shell explodes. “Get back in the fight soldier!” He yells, thrusting your weapon back into your hands. Not realizing that you even dropped it, you fumble with it for a moment before clamouring back to your feet to get your first look of what in the Hell is going on around here. You're met with a barren field, one side being covered with olive drab uniformed soldiers and the other full of every monster you've ever seen, and some you didn't even know existed, both sides meeting each other in a fray of bloody and gruelling warfare. Cats are flying everywhere as arcs of electricity dance across the wasteland. The roar of chainsaws cut through the gunfire from salvaged 9mm pistols and machine guns tear up the landscape. Spiderkitties rush in mobs against machine gun emplacements and planes roar overhead to bomb the targets before being met with Flying Spaghetti monsters and Thrown Foulness. Gobots painted in a green camouflage pattern provide armour support against droves of feral Kittybikes. Up in the sky is a large glass box that is full of Jokers who are merely spectators in this battlefield. You look around as a squad rushes past you. You want to get into the fray, to fight a proper war against the improbability that has tainted this island. As the squad rushes past, you fall in with them and charge into the fray, screaming a collective battlecry as you ready your weapon for a proper war.