Template:M summ EUA Annex (d)(xi)

Picture the scene: ISDA’s crack drafting squad™ as a group of ghost-hunting kids, miles out of their comfort zone, poking around with a flashlight in a dark, cobwebbed cellar, not sure whether they’ll find an imprisoned maiden down a well or Pennywise the Clown, opening doors, dragging themselves further away from the comfortable mark-to-market world, ever more gingerly, and when they got to the pit that is — would become — Failure to Deliver (Alternative Method) - EEP Applicable, there are gasps of despair, a desperate last-minute lunge, they throw in a handful of improvised expository definitions hoping this might scare away whatever unspeakable evil lurks in the shadows, but alas, they wink out, snuffed out by the suffocating darkness. To be featured in a forthcoming Opco Boone adventure:

“G... g... guys?” stuttered Edd. “I th ... th ... think we better get outta here.”

Roly snorted. “What’s wrong Eddy-boy? Scared like a — ” The tubster yawped and clucked and duck-walked around Cadet Sweeney, a fierce, brittle enjoyment squalling in his pink little eyes.

“I’m not yeller!” Edd squeaked.

“Are too! —” Roly’s little apple cheeks flushed with brimming petulance.

“Cut it out Roly,” barked AJ. Don’t pay him no mind, Sweeney. You carry on.”

“Lads! Quiet!” hissed Squadron Leader Opco Boone. “I have to finish this determination dispute trigger. I need bit of quiet. It’s — fiddly ... multi-lat ... ” Boone jabbed his screwdriver into the mechanism, and spluttered as a shower of rust sprinkled his face.

“Don’t forget the double counting, Opco,” said George.

Boone wiped his face and adjusted his goggles. “I got it, G. Just a little further —”

The Eagle Squad leader reached into ancient contraption again, but as he did so, deep in the bowels of the ETS there was a deep, subsonic moan, as if a God, or a monster, was finally stirring from the slumber of aeons.

What the fuck was that?

Nearby, a vigorous flutter, an explosion of limbs, like a scrambling bird escaping from its predator’s clutch.

“Roly! Roly! Come back! Where are you going?”

But the young squadsman had gone. A righteous sneer curled A.J.’s lip.

Boone stood up. “C’mon gang, this is a dead end. No-one will read this, or understand it, much less ever use it. We better find Roly. Let’s get out of here.”