The Mod Squad! They were soooo cool and hip back in the 60’s on their TV show. Wonder what ever happened to them… I don’t think the show lasted all that long. Maybe one season I think.
The Adventure Guild wasn’t enough for me
So I formed a new squad
Of me, myself, and I
Courtney, the superhero
Courtney, the problem-solver
Courtney, As Purple
Courtney, the dancer
Courtney, the cryer
Courtney, the traveler
Courtney, the scholar
Courtney, the child of God
Courtney, fully alive
A sqaud of squids shambled down the parking lot. Weapons ready! the captain exclaimed. Then they all unleashed a black cloud of nuclear waste that leveled the woman and her daycare. Job well done men!
“Let’s go.” He begs. I hunch down behind our rock, making sure I’m completely obscured from anyone’s view on the other side. “Please–” His voice cuts off with a strange noise. A sob threatening to tear from his throat. I avoid looking at his eyes; I don’t want to see my own horror staring back at me. But, if I don’t look at his eyes, I’ll have to look elsewhere, and that’s not an option, either. Not when so many of our comrades lie dead among the wreckage. And God knows, no matter where I look, I will see red. So, I stare at his left shoulder. A safe zone. I shift my gun to rest on my broken right arm. Tear the fingers of my good hand through my hair. Pause. Inhale. “Where can we possibly go?” I ask, pretending I don’t notice how weak my voice sounds. He doesn’t answer, and he doesn’t have to. We both know we were trapped. We were going to die here, just like everyone else in our team had. And it would not be a beautiful death.
The squad itself was run by three people who we (unofficially) called the Unholy Trinity. There was Bastard Brick – a six foot tall, two hundred pound woman who liked using a mace over a gun. Sullivan – a wiry guy who could cut rope with his incisors. And of course, Prickly, whose real name was Angela, but she had enough thorns to make even a Goliath bleed out while crying for mercy.
Mom sends us into the kitchen like her personal squad on Sundays, lets us do the work she does alone on weekdays. She expects no praise, we expect medals of honor for our efforts.
I fear the moment when you get to introduce your future squad to me. The people who will be in charge of protecting your life? No thank you, that should be my place. The people you will sacrifice yourself for? Please, I’m here…
A squad of questions flooded my mind. I was not sure where this was going, what avenues may offer for paths to explore. Should I even wonder at this junction of the wisdom I cannot see lurking just outside my peripheral vision and my seeking heart? No, I will not. For once I am letting the winds of change pull me into the breeze, filling my sails as I journey across the water with the wheel guiding on instinct and trust again. My ship may sink, but the journey could well be worth the adventure.
The squad came in to the room in silence. They had lost the match, but had won the hearts of the thousands of fans in the stands above them. People would tell their grandchildren where they had been this day.
“Alpha, echo, this is bravo leader. Are you hearing this? Is anyone on this goddamn frequency?” she asked, her voice clipped as she ducked out of cover, only to dive back down as a series of shots rang out only millimeters from where her head had been. They weren’t going to make it out of this; not without help.
“Bravo leader, this is echo squad; what is your position, over?”
“Within sight of the target, just east, behind the main compound, over,”
A moment of silence. “We are less than two clicks south of your position and moving fast, over,”
The men around her exchanged silent sounds of relief. “Hurry, echo. We’re getting hit hard,”
“Understood. Hang in there, solider, over and out,”
They called themselves The Squad in high school, but they never really wen anywhere far. All they ever did was go get ice cream on fridays (occasionally, sometimes that didn’t even happen). But they were still a squad and to them that’s all that mattered
every word is an opportunity to connect to you, yet squad has nothing to do with you. it reminds me when you were almost sent to military school, the nights where i would listen to sad music because of that, and when we rode quads over the frozen lake in your backyard.
squad
can squads of people come and help the one direction fandom beat the vevo record for story of my life?
all miley cyrus did was lick a hammer
one direction made a lovely video about their families and how much they love them
just watch it
by Brittany (you can call me britt if you want or don't i do not care whatsoever) on 11.03.2013
truth squad, fighting liars and spreading the truth. don’t lie, or they will find you. how can the truth squad function? do they ever lie?
The military squad trembled as the rumble of one hundred alien ships passed over their heads. They decided to follow them back to their base to see what new and strange wonders they might find.
The squadron was set in place. Neither of us dared to look at each other. Instead, she grasped my hand and continued to breathe down my neck. It was comforting against the blaring lights permeating through the windows. I squeezed the icy hand in mine. My mouth opened to release words of comfort in reply. Usually it came effortlessly and enveloped her nerves in warming calm. But this time it was different. My shaking voice matched the convulsions in my throat. Raspy breaths were pushed out. “I-it’s going to be okay.” Puffs of heated air swirled into her face. The corners of my mouth twitched. “I’m going to be fine. You have to let go now, okay? Okay?”
There is a squad called Aqua Teen Hunger Force. There is Meatwad, a shake, and evil devil fries. I had a hallucination about them when I was a little kid. One time, I knew this guy in middle school that got a tattoo of the shake on his leg. It was cool. I knew another girl that got a belly button ring the same age and she did it herself. She didn’t have the body for it, though. If I were to get a piercing, it’d be on my face.
They are a team, working in one single synchronized unit. They have trained for years to achieve this level of precision. wow I find this prompt so profoundly uninspiring.
lines up,
walks fast
then slow
up and down
across the (town).
everyone hides behind the curtains.
bulletproof apparently.
the glass would shatter so loudly
and that would be just wrong.
it is too cold for sound this morning. too cold for fire.
in the midst of the darkness, a squad car came racing out of nowhere. Traveling at almost 100miles per hour, trying to reach their destination. The reds and blues flashing, the sirens going, and yet it’s taking them forever.
the word is ugly isn’t it, squad and squat, I think of football and I think of squadrons and I think of the poor football players who are forever squatting and ruining their knees and hips for life. A squad teams with uniformity, all puns intended, and though my own son wanted to play football and when he injured his back I knew he was happy to be released from the squad, and from squats and I no longer had to squawk.
You rush in together. the whole of you, like a pod of whales. Disorganized and floating, but slow, full, in control. You are all the captain. You are all the team. You, you yourself, are all the team. You, you all, are all the team. You are peace and you are massive and you are powerful and you are slow.
But just how many are a squad or a squadron for that matter?
Hordes, shouts the alarmist. Semantics, cries the rationalist. Details, demands the pragmatist. Arbitrary laws that may have one or a few instances of notable exception, declares the scientist. And the methodical ticking mind in the back of the room…it thought of all those things and more.
The governmental squad stood in front of the capitol building. Shoulder to shoulder and foot to foot, they formed an impenetrable line, a brick wall of black and red.
the cheerleading squad was a big deal, meaning if you didn’t make it in, you were automatically labled as a loser. she wanted to make it so bad, knowing that if she did, she’d be shot straight to the top of the social ladder. maybe then, people wouldn’t think of her as such a freak. maybe then, she’d actually have friends who’d like her.
“As I saw fit” was the instruction. I had picked them from all walks of life, all continents and among all species. I knew they could do it if anyone could. The Brezhnev cylinder was ours for the taking.
The benevolent guy had a shirt on. That was not the problem. He had it on backwards and all of his men could see that he had failed on them the end of the world.
It’s that group that’s been through everything together, they’re bonded like it doesn’t happen in normal relationships. Maybe they fought zombies or just helped someone move, but working together is their glue.
I felt the wind raising hairs on my arms. It was harsh and cold today. That didn’t stop me from whipping down the motorway, jerking slightly from side to side as I was buffeted. The muted sound of sirens was gradually fading into the background, and I felt gleeful. I couldn’t keep my victory from filling me up with a sick sense of pleasure.
A squad of SWAT team men, storm-trooper helmets (but in jet black), complete with tight-fitting SWAT team suits and combat boots, paraded through the streets after the Phillies won the 2008 World Series. She always thought men in uniform were sexy.
The squad was a cohesive, well orchestrated and formidable team. How had they achieved this stature? Easy, they had put in the work , made the sacrifices that no other team had been willing to make. Years of grueling practice has a way of making a dis jointed group of men into an overnight success story!
So squad is we! We are squad. We are heroes of the future. Our enemies are not. Squad is great. No one will defeat our squad! Beacouse we are heroes squad!
Work in team is the best think we could imagine. Squad is a perfect team. You match with friends and you live good. Squad is good! A big squad is around 5 people, a huge squad is 1000 people. Squad is best thing ever.
We were the perfect killing squad. Brains, brawn, and bravery. That’s all they needed. Sometimes our brains worked against us, because they thought so much. But we were working against that. Working to be simple machines, except more than that. Simple machines who felt human.
Come on, your supposed to be a squad. Pull together and make something of yourselves. You rely on each other for your glory, for your pride and for your career. You need to start acting like a team and work together. This selfish attitude to put yourself first will not do if you want to stay in my league.
The Mod Squad! They were soooo cool and hip back in the 60’s on their TV show. Wonder what ever happened to them… I don’t think the show lasted all that long. Maybe one season I think.
The Adventure Guild wasn’t enough for me
So I formed a new squad
Of me, myself, and I
Courtney, the superhero
Courtney, the problem-solver
Courtney, As Purple
Courtney, the dancer
Courtney, the cryer
Courtney, the traveler
Courtney, the scholar
Courtney, the child of God
Courtney, fully alive
A sqaud of squids shambled down the parking lot. Weapons ready! the captain exclaimed. Then they all unleashed a black cloud of nuclear waste that leveled the woman and her daycare. Job well done men!
“Let’s go.” He begs. I hunch down behind our rock, making sure I’m completely obscured from anyone’s view on the other side. “Please–” His voice cuts off with a strange noise. A sob threatening to tear from his throat. I avoid looking at his eyes; I don’t want to see my own horror staring back at me. But, if I don’t look at his eyes, I’ll have to look elsewhere, and that’s not an option, either. Not when so many of our comrades lie dead among the wreckage. And God knows, no matter where I look, I will see red. So, I stare at his left shoulder. A safe zone. I shift my gun to rest on my broken right arm. Tear the fingers of my good hand through my hair. Pause. Inhale. “Where can we possibly go?” I ask, pretending I don’t notice how weak my voice sounds. He doesn’t answer, and he doesn’t have to. We both know we were trapped. We were going to die here, just like everyone else in our team had. And it would not be a beautiful death.
The squad itself was run by three people who we (unofficially) called the Unholy Trinity. There was Bastard Brick – a six foot tall, two hundred pound woman who liked using a mace over a gun. Sullivan – a wiry guy who could cut rope with his incisors. And of course, Prickly, whose real name was Angela, but she had enough thorns to make even a Goliath bleed out while crying for mercy.
Mom sends us into the kitchen like her personal squad on Sundays, lets us do the work she does alone on weekdays. She expects no praise, we expect medals of honor for our efforts.
I fear the moment when you get to introduce your future squad to me. The people who will be in charge of protecting your life? No thank you, that should be my place. The people you will sacrifice yourself for? Please, I’m here…
A squad of questions flooded my mind. I was not sure where this was going, what avenues may offer for paths to explore. Should I even wonder at this junction of the wisdom I cannot see lurking just outside my peripheral vision and my seeking heart? No, I will not. For once I am letting the winds of change pull me into the breeze, filling my sails as I journey across the water with the wheel guiding on instinct and trust again. My ship may sink, but the journey could well be worth the adventure.
The squad came in to the room in silence. They had lost the match, but had won the hearts of the thousands of fans in the stands above them. People would tell their grandchildren where they had been this day.
“Alpha, echo, this is bravo leader. Are you hearing this? Is anyone on this goddamn frequency?” she asked, her voice clipped as she ducked out of cover, only to dive back down as a series of shots rang out only millimeters from where her head had been. They weren’t going to make it out of this; not without help.
“Bravo leader, this is echo squad; what is your position, over?”
“Within sight of the target, just east, behind the main compound, over,”
A moment of silence. “We are less than two clicks south of your position and moving fast, over,”
The men around her exchanged silent sounds of relief. “Hurry, echo. We’re getting hit hard,”
“Understood. Hang in there, solider, over and out,”
They called themselves The Squad in high school, but they never really wen anywhere far. All they ever did was go get ice cream on fridays (occasionally, sometimes that didn’t even happen). But they were still a squad and to them that’s all that mattered
every word is an opportunity to connect to you, yet squad has nothing to do with you. it reminds me when you were almost sent to military school, the nights where i would listen to sad music because of that, and when we rode quads over the frozen lake in your backyard.
squad
can squads of people come and help the one direction fandom beat the vevo record for story of my life?
all miley cyrus did was lick a hammer
one direction made a lovely video about their families and how much they love them
just watch it
truth squad, fighting liars and spreading the truth. don’t lie, or they will find you. how can the truth squad function? do they ever lie?
The military squad trembled as the rumble of one hundred alien ships passed over their heads. They decided to follow them back to their base to see what new and strange wonders they might find.
The squadron was set in place. Neither of us dared to look at each other. Instead, she grasped my hand and continued to breathe down my neck. It was comforting against the blaring lights permeating through the windows. I squeezed the icy hand in mine. My mouth opened to release words of comfort in reply. Usually it came effortlessly and enveloped her nerves in warming calm. But this time it was different. My shaking voice matched the convulsions in my throat. Raspy breaths were pushed out. “I-it’s going to be okay.” Puffs of heated air swirled into her face. The corners of my mouth twitched. “I’m going to be fine. You have to let go now, okay? Okay?”
There is a squad called Aqua Teen Hunger Force. There is Meatwad, a shake, and evil devil fries. I had a hallucination about them when I was a little kid. One time, I knew this guy in middle school that got a tattoo of the shake on his leg. It was cool. I knew another girl that got a belly button ring the same age and she did it herself. She didn’t have the body for it, though. If I were to get a piercing, it’d be on my face.
They are a team, working in one single synchronized unit. They have trained for years to achieve this level of precision. wow I find this prompt so profoundly uninspiring.
lines up,
walks fast
then slow
up and down
across the (town).
everyone hides behind the curtains.
bulletproof apparently.
the glass would shatter so loudly
and that would be just wrong.
it is too cold for sound this morning. too cold for fire.
in the midst of the darkness, a squad car came racing out of nowhere. Traveling at almost 100miles per hour, trying to reach their destination. The reds and blues flashing, the sirens going, and yet it’s taking them forever.
the word is ugly isn’t it, squad and squat, I think of football and I think of squadrons and I think of the poor football players who are forever squatting and ruining their knees and hips for life. A squad teams with uniformity, all puns intended, and though my own son wanted to play football and when he injured his back I knew he was happy to be released from the squad, and from squats and I no longer had to squawk.
You rush in together. the whole of you, like a pod of whales. Disorganized and floating, but slow, full, in control. You are all the captain. You are all the team. You, you yourself, are all the team. You, you all, are all the team. You are peace and you are massive and you are powerful and you are slow.
One word intuitions.
Squadrons of sentences appear.
But just how many are a squad or a squadron for that matter?
Hordes, shouts the alarmist. Semantics, cries the rationalist. Details, demands the pragmatist. Arbitrary laws that may have one or a few instances of notable exception, declares the scientist. And the methodical ticking mind in the back of the room…it thought of all those things and more.
The governmental squad stood in front of the capitol building. Shoulder to shoulder and foot to foot, they formed an impenetrable line, a brick wall of black and red.
“We need a cool group name. Let’s be the Odd Squad.”
“We’re an activist group, Courf, not a band.”
“Still, though, I mean, we’re gonna need a catchy name if we want anyone to pay attention to us, right?”
“Well — well okay, but what does Odd Squad have to do with what we stand for?”
“We’re odd and we’re a squad Combeferre what more do you want from me?”
the cheerleading squad was a big deal, meaning if you didn’t make it in, you were automatically labled as a loser. she wanted to make it so bad, knowing that if she did, she’d be shot straight to the top of the social ladder. maybe then, people wouldn’t think of her as such a freak. maybe then, she’d actually have friends who’d like her.
“As I saw fit” was the instruction. I had picked them from all walks of life, all continents and among all species. I knew they could do it if anyone could. The Brezhnev cylinder was ours for the taking.
Belarus was cold this time of year. Han new it, and so did the rest of the team. A shell dropped from the giant snail and the whole squad was trapped.
Tree times he called but no answer. The badge he held was licorically black and smelled of fear. He would never see grandpa Wonka again.
The benevolent guy had a shirt on. That was not the problem. He had it on backwards and all of his men could see that he had failed on them the end of the world.
The man dressed in green trudged silently through the tall grass, sensitive to any sound coming from the distance.
It’s that group that’s been through everything together, they’re bonded like it doesn’t happen in normal relationships. Maybe they fought zombies or just helped someone move, but working together is their glue.
I felt the wind raising hairs on my arms. It was harsh and cold today. That didn’t stop me from whipping down the motorway, jerking slightly from side to side as I was buffeted. The muted sound of sirens was gradually fading into the background, and I felt gleeful. I couldn’t keep my victory from filling me up with a sick sense of pleasure.
A squad of SWAT team men, storm-trooper helmets (but in jet black), complete with tight-fitting SWAT team suits and combat boots, paraded through the streets after the Phillies won the 2008 World Series. She always thought men in uniform were sexy.
The squad was a cohesive, well orchestrated and formidable team. How had they achieved this stature? Easy, they had put in the work , made the sacrifices that no other team had been willing to make. Years of grueling practice has a way of making a dis jointed group of men into an overnight success story!
So squad is we! We are squad. We are heroes of the future. Our enemies are not. Squad is great. No one will defeat our squad! Beacouse we are heroes squad!
power rangers
police
firefighters
squadron
aliens
Work in team is the best think we could imagine. Squad is a perfect team. You match with friends and you live good. Squad is good! A big squad is around 5 people, a huge squad is 1000 people. Squad is best thing ever.
We were the perfect killing squad. Brains, brawn, and bravery. That’s all they needed. Sometimes our brains worked against us, because they thought so much. But we were working against that. Working to be simple machines, except more than that. Simple machines who felt human.
Come on, your supposed to be a squad. Pull together and make something of yourselves. You rely on each other for your glory, for your pride and for your career. You need to start acting like a team and work together. This selfish attitude to put yourself first will not do if you want to stay in my league.