In the beginning, there was only darkness. And then the lord spoke and said "Let there be light". And so it was. Then the lord said "I'm bored" and Castle Wolfenstein was born. This was good. But the lord grew tired of killing the uber-mecha Hitler, and sought out more. The lord created Duke Nukem, and he was happy, because you could give money to the strippers. But something was lacking. It was then, the lord realized the need for an online presence. He took a rib from Half Life, a nade from TFC, and a scope from Special Ops, and created Counter-Strike. And it was good. The people rejoiced. Satan created wall hacks and aimbots, and head shot scripts but the children of CS were not swayed by his dark ways.

Then came Cannon_Fodder.

He would play on a server called Army of Llamas. He would use his AWP of justice to smite all those who opposed him. He would change his name to Dirk Diggler, or Peter North, or John Holmes, but his AWP of justice would not falter. He showed this game to me, your story teller, and [segfault]* was born. Originally called BSoD (Blue Screen of Death) it was changed because that name belonged to a legitimate clan, and we were but a small following of frag hungry few. The competition on AoL was fierce, and much fun was had by all, and soon, AoL came calling, and Mojo_Jojo joined their ranks. Then, Cannon_Fodder joined the clan of AoL, and [segfault]* lay dormant, like a sleeping volcano. Many months passed, and AoL flourished with it's new members, placing high in the ranks of OGL, STA, and CAL.

But changes came, and the Core 5 of AoL soon saw that their personal and business lives could no longer handle the strain of running a competitive clan. Terrorists in the real world came, and the Core 5 (all of which worked for the DoJ) disbanded the clan, not wanting it to become a shell of it's former self. It was a dark time for [segfault]*. And as Diablo's minions darkened the earth, the call came out for heroes to stand up and fight. [segfault]* was re born, if only for a short while, to battle Baal.

However, their fight was short lived. Soon the dupes, the hacks, the pk'ers, and the lamers invaded, and the battle against Diablo and his minions began to wane in importance. It was once more, time for our heroes to take up arms against more dangerous creatures - man.

But these were warriors without a home, Ronin, if you will. They wandered from place to place, looking for competition, for good will, for integrity. In a sea of servers, there was but one island of hope. This was =Alien Armada=. Changes were needed. [segfault]* lacked an identity, so it manifested itself as [MACR]*, or Macromedia, our place of daily employment. Cannon_Fodder became m0nk3yz. Mr.Flibble began to show signs of skill, improvement, and involvement. And once again, Mojo_Jojo returned from sabbatical. But could this server be the home we sought? Would be betrayed as we had many times before by abusive admins, negligent anti-cheats, racist, homophobic frag hungry script kiddies? We did not know. But as the days past, and our kills became many, we knew what we had felt all along. This was our place for gaming. We had found a new home.

[segfault]* was re born. But not as the competitive clan that was. Oh no. We were under a charter. A mission. A purpose. We would not be like all the others out there, going for score. We sought a higher purpose. To bring the "fun" back to the gaming community. To do things that demanded demo's and screen shots. To return laughter to the world of Aztec, Cobble, and Dust. We would be......... retarded.

Soon, our exploits were known. Our names were associated with silliness. And our ranks, began to swell. First came SHANER, then SAWEDOFF. Followed by VULPES FULVA, DETSIWT, HARRY, and AN IDIOT BLOOMING. The Army of Lamers was gaining strength. Rising in power, in influence, in audacity, in downright stupidity.

We are now a force to be reckoned with.

And once reckoned with, laughed at.

Raise your drink glasses, raise your eyebrows, raise the roof.

We are [segfault]* and we are here.

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