Greetings, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, vertebraes and invertebrates alike! Welcome to my new story based off of my real team of worms in the real Worms games I play (more or less) such as Worms: Ultimate Mayhem, Worms Battlegrounds and Worms W.M.D. This team goes by the name of Britain's Best; I don't know why, it just sounded good; better than Britain's Got Worms, that's for sure. But enough dilly dallying, sit back, grab some popcorn, maybe a drink and enjoy the quirky antics and acts that Britain's Best get up to.
Act 1: Worminkle University
Four young worms, Conerth, Sir Niflington II aka Nifle, Shanerfine and Wentworth are riding the fastest train service in the country, Homing Pigeon Railways to their next stop, Worminkle University. The approaching train screeches to a halt, stopping at the station near the gates of the school. "Okay gang, we're here! Time to get going!" exclaimed Conerth. The group then pick up their luggage and squirm off of the train. Nifle-who has noticeably more bags and packages to carry than the rest-heaves and groans trying to take his luggage off of the locomotive. As Nifle nears the edge of the carriage, he loses his balance and eventually teeters over and off the train whose doors are now closing. When he fell, Nifle was joined soon after with his many bags resulting in a satisfying "Whump".
Wentworth notices Nifle covered under his bags, "You okay there, Nifle?" says Wentworth, concerned that Nifle has become buried under countless bags, "It isn't time to hit the hay just yet." "Why did .I have to bring so many bags?" grumbles Nifle, muffled under his bags. Wentworth picks Nifle's bags off of him and carries a portion of his bags with him. "I can't believe it! Worminkle University, the finest school in the country and we're graduating here!" Shanerfine giggles, beaming with joy. "At least it'll take my mind off of the kidnapping of my brother Sir Niflington I." grumbled Nifle. "I wonder what we'll learn here? I bet we'll learn plenty. I hope there's a gymnasium." mused Wentworth.
Just then, Conerth sees an old worm panicking in the distance. "Wait a second, who's that in the distance? Is that Worm Brown?" questions Conerth. "Of course not! What do you think this is, Worm to the Future?" answers Nifle. Suddenly, the befuddled worm notices the pack of worms. "Hey you! Yes you over there with the average size build!" yells the elder worm. Conerth hears the worm's cries and responds. "Hello sir! Is something troubling you?" askes Conerth. "Indeed so. There's these tipsy fellows from our rival school, could you please take care of them for me?" suggests the old worm. "Challenge accepted." says Conerth.
"Okay then," the elder worm orders, "To get rid of them, you'll all need to simply grab those weapon crates over there." "But sir," Nifle asks, "We don't have any combat training, only the basic manoeuvres like moving and jumping!" "It's okay, I'll help you as you go along." Reassures the old worm. The team then decides who goes for what crate, with Conerth going for the one on the lower pillar, Nifle going for the one on the higher pillar, Shanerfine going for the one on the bridge and Wentworth going for the crate behind the bridge.
"Okay team, move out!" orders Conerth, dashing towards the crate on the lower pillar. He jumps up to it and gets a Grenade. "Okay average-sized worm," says the old worm, "to use the Grenade, aim, pull out the pin and throw." "Got it." confirms Conerth. He aims at Pigeon, pulls out the safety pin and chucks the Grenade at him. The other worm goes flying in an average sized explosion, exploding himself soon after. "Excuse me old worm sir, does every worm have to self destruct like that?" asks Conerth. "Of course they do!", the old worm answers "They do it so that there aren't worm corpses all over the place. Plus, it makes for a nice attack for anyone near you." "That's a bit odd." says Conerth. "It's fine, you'll get used to it." reassures the old worm.
"My turn!" shouts Nifle bounding up to the taller pillar. He then gets a Bazooka, barely able to hold it above his head. "Alright, little guy," says the old worm, "to use the Bazooka, just aim, hold the trigger to power up the launch and release to fire or fully charge it and it will launch automatically. "Okay." confirms Nifle. He turns around, angles the Bazooka and launches it; sending Slugger flying in a large explosion and almost sending Nifle falling into the fountain from the recoil. "I shouldn't skip tail day." thinks Nifle in his head.
"Time to kick some tail!" exclaimes Shanerfine, dashing up the bridge towards the crates. He opens the crate up and finds a red headband, "I guess I'll put this on." muses Shanerfine. He ties the headband to his head and instantly, his hand sets on fire. "Ummm...sir, is this normal and will it hurt me?" asks Shanerfine, concerned about his flaming fist. "Yes, it is normal and no, it won't hurt you unless for some reason you decide to hit yourself in the face with it.", answers the old worm, "To use the Fire Punch, make sure the headband is securely attached to your head, jump as high as you can into the air whilst extending your fist into the opponent's face, like a jumping uppercut. I say to keep the headband SECURELY attached as if it falls off, the attack will lose it's power and not be as effective." "Thanks for the info, now let's give this chap a good old clout." says Shanerfine, complementing the pro-I mean the old worm. Shanefine then jumps high into the air while filling Fizzy Pop's face with his flaming fist, sending the intoxicated worm soaring through the air and falling into the sky blue water, drowning instantly with his dead corpse floating towards the surface before exploding. "Now that I think about it," says Shanerfine, pondering about the warmth of his fiery hand, "This hand feels like a warm mitten!"
"Let's do this!" says Wentworth, nearing the final crate over the bridge. He opens the crate, finding a pump action Shotgun as its contents. "Well," murmurs Wentworth, gently lifting the Shotgun to his upper torso. "This thing looks mighty deadly in the hands of an experienced shooter!" "Ahh, the Shotgun.", says the old worm, examining it's beauty. "To use this weapon, aim it at the opponent you want to shoot and pull the trigger to fire. If the enemy is still alive or there's more victims to get rid of, pull the pump backwards and then forwards to reload. This means you can get another shot on your enemies." "Thank you for the lesson, but now it's time for this wimp to eat lead!" shouts Wentworth, aiming the Shotgun towards Wheel Trim's head. Wentworth then pulls the trigger, sending a cluster of Shotgun shells into Wheel Trim's face, doing serious damage. Unbeknownst to Wentworth, Wheel Trim gets back up, only to be shot back down, only this time he's dead for sure. "Alright guys! We're done!" yells Wentworth, assuring the team that they've finished the job.
"Good show fellows, jolly good show!" says the old worm, clapping his hands in glee. "Thank you for cleaning up the 'mess' of those silly blokes back there," the old worm exclaims, "But now I must share you all my name for we simply cannot go this far without sharing our names." the old worm announces, preparing to reveal his "wormsona" (That will now be an official noun used by me, SSF60.) "Who could he be?", Shanerfine ponders part excitedly, part concerned. The elder worm then goes on to say his name. "I am none other than...Professor Worminkle.
"Really?" questions Conerth, "The Worminkle that created bounce-adjustable, delayable Grenades?" "The Worminkle who founded the ammo used by our current bullet-firing firearms, Destruco-Bullets?" asks Nifle. "The Worminkle who produced remote detonated sheep (Non-Canon, according to Worms Clan Wars/Battlegrounds, they're a different kind of animal altogether.-SSF60)?" asked Shanerfine. "The Worminkle who somehow discovered the shell of the legendary Holy Hand Grenade and found its ability to boost the explosive power of the gunpowder put inside it via a blessing of the Worm Gods themselves?" exclaims Wentworth. "Yes, yes, yes and somehow, yes." answers Professor Worminkle, good memories dashing through his mind. "About the Holy Hand Grenade, somehow, they were somewhat mass produced, that's a lot of blessings the gods have on their hands. And don't even get me started on the Concrete Donkeys!"