I was going to post this on the story before it was deleted, but, eh. Might as well post it here. I was responding to the guy when he asked for all instances of misspellings/misplaced words, and I delivered. In case you wanted to see the first chapter, I have it saved. Note, this review started out as simply pointing out the errors and such, but I got bored, so it shifted into an actual review partway through. You'll have to forgive the low quality, as I've wrote this on a whim.

"Ok, let's look at the list one more time." said Rick, looking down at a crumbled peace of paper.

*piece

"Everything seams to be here.

*seems

Of coarse this deep breath was taken behind a black Toxin Hazard Gas Mask (THGM for short) that connected with his Toxin Hazard Suite.

*course
*suit

"Perfect day for a sneak attack on those dam thieves."

Those are some crafty thieves, then. Where do they keep all their dams? I'd love to see if they have the Hoover or Three Gorges among that collection...
(*damn)

He thought as he looked around to see that it was a gloomy, fogy, damp morning.

*foggy

He had bean planning this attack for five months.

So, wait, he had this guy planning an attack?

...Flawless.
(*been)

Rick had this whole thing planned right down to every signal detail to who would likely win and how armed each group would be.

*single

Three hours of hiking down latter

*later

Rick had bean hiking down the rocky, muddy, mountain.

Rick is a slave driver! Forcing poor Bean to hike.

Even though I doubt he would mind, but, eh...
(*been, yet again)

He kept his head low as he sneaked through the thick brush of woods.

It should be "snuck". That's a somewhat-common newbie mistake, but I'm counting it anyway.

He knew where the best hunting spots where at and knew where the dear migrated at. These memories where now nothing but a blear of the beautiful and happy times of the past.

Those two "where"s should be "were". As in, this WAS something, but is no longer such. Where is used to indicate a location of some sort.

Also, *blur.

It had bean a ruffly two hours until he came to his planed sniping spot.

*roughly

And unless that sniping spot has smooth wooden flooring, then it's "planned" you're looking for, not "planed."

There where three names that could describe the war in Rick's mind.

...Okay, this is starting to get a little irritating.

They had there particular weapons, like AK-47s, FIVE SEVENs, and M1014s.

I'm... not sure if that's worded very well, but that could be "their", I guess...

Screw it, bonus sin for grammar.

The bus was sideways, blocking the road, while two of the trucks where on the bus's front and back sides. The third tuck was taking out one of the patrol groups.

I needn't say why "where" is wrong by now...

Also... "tuck". Yeah, gonna assume that was an honest typo.

Rick could make out that some of them had M320 Grenade Launcher on there guns.

*their

Also... why? Why tell us exactly what the weapons are, and go as far as to show us a picture? No one cares what they look like. They just care about the story. Just say "grenade launchers". We all know what those are, and it doesn't distract from the story. You could also say "machine gun", "handgun", "revolver", or "rifle", or whatever. Those work fine, too. No one's going to tear you apart for going light on the details in some places...

You know what? I'm gonna hand out a sin for each time you've linked a pic and an exact description of the weapon.. which is... sixteen times?! Dude, seriously? Yet another "gun porn" story, I see. Wonderful.

He then keeled,

He died already? Welp, that was a short sto--

looking through the scope of his BARTETT M82 50 CAL. and aimed it at the truck that was killing off the patrol groups.

...F**k.

(*kneeled, by the way)

The truck a made a quick tern turn to the right and did some barrel rolls, crushing what was left of the patrol group.

Because f**k physics, we need to do a sh*tty reference.

Rick then made a fast sprint to the turnover turned-over truck and looked over to the battlefield.

I do love turnovers. Turnover trucks however, eh... A bit too oily for my tastes.

His thoughts where were interrupted as he heard a faint help me. Rick turned around to see a man on his belly, chocking and coughing up his own blood. He was crawling over to rick, bagging begging for his help. Rick walked over to him, knelled kneeled down and said.

"Hey, f**k off, I'm the important one, alright? We don't need you stupid redshirts here."

"You know, I heard the same thing come from my Grandpa as you bastards tortured him. But lucky for you I have mercy on my enemy, unlike you basters."

Basters are the devil.

Rick then stroked his Combat Knife agents against the tall dry grass, cleaning the bit's bits of brain and blood off.

Stroke that knife, Rick. Stroke it hard. Just like a certain other thing, when you think about all the copious amounts of gun pr0nz strewn about in this fic...

The door was an old rusted steel color and hung on it's rusted hinges. Rick took a step back, raising his foot and slamming it onto the door's doorknob, braking breaking it off.

Because steel doors have doorknobs. That can be broken off with a simple kick. Yeah, uh... just how rusted are these doors, again? They can't be that weak, can they?

Then two man men came into the room holding a man on a stretcher. Rick then aimed and fired two shots. They both fell dead to the floor with a bullet wound to the head. Rick then walked through the old factory, aiming his BERETTA 87 at every corner, making sure that there wart weren't any of those basters bastards in his way.

So, he just up and murdered two medics (or at least, otherwise unarmed men) who were trying to help their comrade. Wow, dick move. Geneva conventions sure went to hell after the world ended.

There where were gun racks hanging allover all over the walls.

For f**k's sake, man.

He grabbed at least one or two of every gun he could get his hands on. Most of what Rick grabbed where were assault rifles like M4A1s, M16s, and SCAR Hs. He Grabbed a few of his favorite Pistols like, M1911s, .44 MAGNUMs, and FIVE SEVENs.

Woah, okay. We got a gun nut, over here.

Also, why the hell are the names of the guns in all caps? Is he, like, marketing them or something?

"Booya babby baby!" said Rick as he slammed his foot onto the gas. (Or as he liked to call it put the metal to the metal.)

Learn to analogy properly. Just... please. That was cringe-worthy.

"See ya latter later fuckers!" shouted Rick at the top of his lungs, soon making his way off of the dirt trail and onto the road. He soon began to pick up speed at 30 miles an hour.

And we needed to know his exact speed... why, exactly?

"This. is. THE BEST DAY EVER-" Rick was cut off by a bright blinding light that appeared right in front of him. He then felt some sort of energy flowing through every part of his body. And then, in an intent instant, he felt his whole body being thrown forward.

"Blinding-light-from-nowhere-ex-machina" cliche.

"God...What happened." mound moaned Rick as he unlocked his seat belt and leaned against the truck's door, witch which apparently opened. Rick then fell out of the truck and rolled onto his back.

The last time I saw "witch" and "mound" in the same sentence together, I needed about four gallons of bleach to clean my eyes afterward.

"God why?" mound moaned Rick. He felt like a concussion grenade/flash bang grenade hit him in the head. His vision was very blurry and all he could hear was a high pitch ringing.

Because we all needed to be told what a flash grenade does, right?

"WHOEVER JUST FLASHED BANGED ME IS GOING TO HAVE THEIR FUCKING SKULL CRUSHED INTO POWDER AND HAVE THEIR EYES PLUCKED OUT WITH THEIR BRAINS!!!"

Right, get angry and scream at a potentially-lethal enemy and give yourself away. And this is how you can tell he is not a professional, folks.

Also, I'm going to dole out a healthy double-up in sins for the second chapter, as well. No, I am not doing it. I don't have access to that chapter any more, anyway.

But I do have access to this little gem:

"Oh..." said the trio, now grabbing a book or two. Except for the little white unicorn filly that had a book that was bigger then her self. It had a dark black cover with a star inside of a circle. The book look as old as a billion years.

...Uncanny. Sixty-six sins for the sad six-pointed star.

3582674 Welp... I think this deserved such scrutiny with vocabulary even if you had started it off as a regular review alright. It's so annoying. Makes the read so irregular...

Very nice job! Gotta love your reviews. Your first one here was what inspired me to try my own in the first place. ^^"

3582674
Considering that's a Jewish star.

3582674 In it 4 Mr Bean.

3582819
Oh, well. Thank you. Heh...

3583492
Huh, somehow missed that. Fix'd.

3583411
3583414
3583510
Also, as it turns out, Iggy and parasprite DID save the second chapter of this slopfest. It doesn't really add too much, but, I think it's easy to see all the things that go wrong in it.

So... at the risk of precious brain cells, should I continue the review for the sake of being complete? Yay or neigh?

3590694
Only if you feel up to the challenge.

3590694

100% completion or you aren't a real reviewer.