Lyinar Ka`Bael, Piney Fresh Druidess - Luclin
Scene opens on a busy street in New York. Standing at a corner are three foreign men: a weasely-looking Swede, a squat Dane, and a gangly German. All three wear obnoxious Hawaiian shirts and look around in awe, snapping pictures and remarking in their amusing foreign languages.
Zaza: My friends! Why oh why did we insult America before? This land is wonderful! I had never thought we could experience such freedom!
Tarquinn: The women have huge breasts! The taxes are exquisite! I had no idea capitalism could be so great!
Jens: I can buy a pot pie right off the street! WITHOUT A LICENSE! I LOVE AMERICA!
Zaza: Friends, we have made a grave mistake. I think we owe a serious apology to our American friends.
Tarquinn: Let us form a union of peace! Together, we shall create a safer place for all nationalities, and we shall all live together!
Jens: Together...in America!
As the three foreigners gush, a fat prairie dog wearing a tophat and monocle walks up behind them from the streets.
Zaza: Then it is done: we shall all live in our newly-discovered greatest country in the world!
Jens: Ya!
Tarquinn: Ja!
Suddenly, the prairie dog slams a Louisville Slugger in the back of Tarquinn's knees, sending him tumbling to the ground where the rodent begins to bash him in his face.
Tarquinn: YEARGH! It hurts like freedom! My face oozes with patriotism!
With a grunt, the prairie dog leaps up and smashes his bat over Jens' head, sending it hurtling down into his neck. Sitting atop the Dane's shoulders, he then cracks the bat against Zaza's spine, sending his hips and neck in a rather awkward perpendicular position.
Another American dream fulfilled, the prairie dog steps off of the foreigners and hefts his bat over his shoulder, ready to proceed to his next order of business.
quote:
Mr. Parcelan thought about the meaning of life:
Tarquinn: YEARGH! It hurts like freedom! My face oozes with patriotism!
Disclaimer: I'm just kidding, I love all living things.
The fastest draw in the Crest.
"The Internet is MY critical thinking course." -Maradon
"Gambling for the husband, an abortion for the wife and fireworks for the kids they chose to keep? Fuck you, Disneyland. The Pine Ridge Indian Reservation is the happiest place on Earth." -JooJooFlop
More plz k thx.
quote:
Out of a possible 10, Zeke the Final Fencer scored a straight 1 with:
These are great! And best of all,noone knows much about me so I'm immuneI can try to use reverse psychology to get included!
Fixed
quote:
This insanity brought to you by Katrinity:
<struggles under the weight of Mort's armor> Mrhahrhamaahama! Get off me Mort!
I think that's enough to put a permanent grin on Mort's face.
quote:
Mr. Gainsborough had this to say about dark elf butts:
Wow, I'm not dead yet. Yay.
I know how you feel.
[ 11-10-2003: Message edited by: diadem ]
quote:
Bajah had this to say about Tron:
Death by Vinyl! Aaaaaugh.And in a Disco, too! Aaaaaugh!
*picks up Bajah's shotgun off his cold, dead hands*
it ok bruddah, me aven - oo... snack and dip!
quote:
Nobody really understood why Zeke the Final Fencer wrote:
These are great! And best of all, noone knows much about me so I'm immune!
just wait till he gets to the unknowns. You are not safe on this board... no one is. cept Call.
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JooJooFlop said:
I think that's enough to put a permanent grin on Mort's face.
Scene opens in a kitchen where three men wearing wigs and various women's garments busily make dinner. A silence hangs over the room as they chop, boil and cook, each one wears a look of contemplation on his face.
Falaanla: ...maybe they're right.
Azymyth: About dinner?
Falaanla: Not dinner! About...us.
ArchAngel: What do you mean? They're right about what?
Falaanla: Look at us...three grown men pretending to be girls. We have no lives beyond pretending to put on makeup and gossip!
Azymyth: Speaking of which, did you hear about Ethel down the street? Well, it seems that-
Falaanla: See?! Why can't we talk about normal guy things? Like...football...and...jeez, I can't even remember what guys talk about. We need to drop this, and we need to drop it right now.
ArchAngel: But...we like looking pretty.
Azymyth: Or attempting to look pretty, anyhow.
Falaanla: But at what cost? Our self-esteem? Our identities? We should seriously stop and reconsider this...
As the silence falls over the room once more, a portly prairie dog climbs up onto the counter and meanders over to the three confused men.
ArchAngel: ...you may have a point, Fal. I've become sick of the ridicule, and I have nobody but myself to blame for it.
Falaanla: I think we need to drop this charade. We can still be pretty without being girls! Come on, let's make a pact. Who's with me?
ArchAngel: I am! How about you, Azy?
Azymyth: *blubbgurbleblubb*
Azymyth's only response is another final sputter of water as the prairie dog dunks his head in a pot of boiling water once more and slams the pot down upon it.
ArchAngel: Jeez, Azy! I thought you were getting help for your autoerotic drowning! You were finally able to watch Flipper without blowing your load!
The prairie dog then lunges at ArchAngel and grabs him by his hair, slamming his face into the chopping board until it's a smashed mess covered in chopped vegetables, then tossing him to the floor.
Falaanla: Now come on, guys, is this how Emeril would run his kitchen? How are we ever going to win the bake sale?
Falaanla recieves his answer in a rather gruesome way as the prairie dog grabs his head and presses it against the burning stove, letting his skin simmer for a moment before beating the confused man over the head with a wooden spoon and letting his limp form drop to the floor.
His mission almost completed, the prairie dog takes a moment to sample their pasta sauce before spitting in it and hopping down off of the counter, eager to be done.
To Be Continued [ 11-10-2003: Message edited by: Mr. Parcelan ]
quote:
Lyinar Ka`Bael rode by in a mouse drawn chariot while shouting:
Disregard my Jania moment back there. These are great, Parce. Keep the comedy flowing
I was hoping that he would take the time to off all of your and Deth's alts too, but that would be an epic thread in and of itself.
quote:
The logic train ran off the tracks when Mr. Parcelan said:
His mission almost completed
So we're almost through?
Disclaimer: I'm just kidding, I love all living things.
The fastest draw in the Crest.
"The Internet is MY critical thinking course." -Maradon
"Gambling for the husband, an abortion for the wife and fireworks for the kids they chose to keep? Fuck you, Disneyland. The Pine Ridge Indian Reservation is the happiest place on Earth." -JooJooFlop
quote:
Lenlalron Flameblaster attempted to be funny by writing:
The rest of the RPcrest collective is dead. I live, however, and no longer can parcelan throw me in with them. I live!
I'm still alive....
But I don't really count. ^_^
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ACES! Another post by Palador ChibiDragon:
I was hoping that he would take the time to off all of your and Deth's alts too, but that would be an epic thread in and of itself.
As far as EC alts there's only 3 we each have, although the third set aren't used much.
Now for RP...hehe...yeah. He'd spend the rest of his life on that one
Lyinar Ka`Bael, Piney Fresh Druidess - Luclin
quote:
When the babel fish was in place, it was apparent Lenlalron Flameblaster said:
The rest of the RPcrest collective is dead. I live, however, and no longer can parcelan throw me in with them. I live!
Hi.
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Gunslinger Moogle's account was hax0red to write:
Hilariousupo! But...So we're almost through?
silly Moogle... almost only counts in horseshoes and handgrenades.
quote:
Mr. Parcelan thought about the meaning of life:
Falaanla recieves his answer in a rather gruesome way as the prairie dog grabs his head and presses it against the burning stove, letting his skin simmer for a moment before beating the confused man over the head with a wooden spoon and letting his limp form drop to the floor.
YES. [ 11-11-2003: Message edited by: Sean ]
It's not something people hear about.
quote:
Gunslinger Moogle enlisted the help of an infinite number of monkeys to write:
Hilariousupo! But...So we're almost through?
careful liddle one, me tink he gonna poison da drinking wadur
Scene opens in a quiet park by the lake. Two furry creatures, one a fox and the other a wolf, sit quietly upon a bench facing the lake. Quietly, they toss bread crumbs to the ducks as a slight breeze blows through the park.
Aury: So, I've been thinking...
Zephyer: Hm?
Aury: About a lot of things.
Zephyer: Like what?
Aury: Have you ever wondered what the nature of mankind truly is? Like...are we naturally good or naturally evil?
Zephyer: Well...I would think that we're naturally violent, if not evil. Our entire dietary system, some would argue our natural core, is based around the murder and consumption of any creature weaker than ourselves. And if we're naturally good, why is it that wars and genocide are still overly prominent in our society today? What other possible solution could there be?
Aury: That's true, but if we're naturally evil and destructive, why haven't we destroyed ourselves yet? And you must realize that with the slant of the media today, all we hear about is genocide and murder. There are one million and one good deeds occuring for every evil act reported in the news. The sole problem is that such press doesn't sell.
Zephyer: All too true. I suppose what we arrive at is that man is neither naturally good...nor evil...but simply man.
Aury: Indeed.
A small snorkel appears from the lake's surface and draws closer and closer until a tiny prairie dog wearing scuba gear emerges from the lake and flops up to the two furries in his flippers as they share a sigh.
Aury: I'm glad we have these talks. I wonder if anyone else knew we were so capable of deep thought.
Zephyer: Oh, I doubt it. What with the problems in the world today who has time to listen to anyone-*CLUNK!*
The sound of two coconuts smashing together finishes the conversation as the prairie do bashes the furries' heads together once, twice and thrice.
Producing a freshly-thawed chicken breast, he proceeds to bludgeon the Jackal into a state of bleeding unconsciousness. Then, he rips the air tank off of his back and shoves it into the wolf's mouth. With a deft movement, he tears off the nozzle and looses the gas, sending the wolf streaking off across the park like a fuzzy missile.
Peeling out of his wetsuit, the prairie dog takes a moment to dry himself off and then continues on his way, eager to be done with his mission.
To Be Continued
Or.. maybe he didn't say that, but I am trying to say that I like your stories prarie dog! /gets Callalron a beer
Scene opens in a festive hall somewhere in Canada. Several jolly Canadians are seated along a long table laden with food, wine and festivities. The cold winter roars outside as snow clings to the window panes. Suddenly, a gothic (but not really!) Canadian rises and lifts his glass.
RedMage: My friends, a toast!
Beaukat: A toast!
BlueMage: Toast!
Ares: Toast!
RedMage: We have been mocked...ridiculed...taunted. We have been outcasted, beaten and spit upon! All our lives!
Ares: Hear hear!
RedMage: But tonight...on this blessed Christmas Eve, we shall retain none of that hate that has been thrust upon us!
BlueMage: Hoorah!
RedMage: Yes, friends, tonight we will release ourselves. And though we may go through this year after year, tonight...this night...is ours. We shall release our anger...the malice that has been thrust upon us. For tonight, on this blessed night we shall eat, drink and be merry.
Beaukat: Prosit!
The four Canadians swig down their wine while an especially cold breeze blows past the window. Suddenly, a rustle comes from the chimney. Like a dropped bomb, a fat prairie dog wearing a Santa hat and white beard falls down the chimney, dragging a large bag behind him as he walks to the table and hops up on it.
RedMage: So tell us, Beaukat, what did you ask Santa for?
Beaukat: Well, as you know, I've been toying with cooking, but I've been lacking something in seafood. So I asked Santa for an oyster mallet!
The prairie dog pulls out a heavy oyster mallet from his sack and raises it above Beaukat's head. With six successive whacks, he tenderizes her head to a bloody pulp and tosses the cooking utensil aside.
BlueMage: That reminds me, I need to pick up a frying pan from the sto-*KLANG!*
That would be an especially stinging reminder as the prairie dog slams a cast iron frying pan into BlueMage's face, reducing it to a mess of blood and ugly makeup. He then rips a turkey leg off of a nearby roast and shoves it into her mouth, throwing her backwards into a violent choking spree.
Ares: Well, I only wished for peace on earth.
The prairie dog jerks out a heavy globe from his bag of gifts and proceeds to crush it against the artist's head, replacing her cranium with a cardboard sphere. He then produces a heavy hammer and bashes it against her newly-found skull forty times over.
RedMage: And of course, I asked for my own identityyyyyyeeeEEEEEEEEEE!
An entirely new octave in the Canadian's vocalization is reached as the prairie dog pours a pot of scalding tea on RedMage's lap, sending him clutching his crotch.
RedMage: ARGH! MY SPERM!
The prairie dog ends the Canadian's whining with a swift nutcracker to the jaw, sending the goth (but not really) sprawling to the hardwood floor.
Tossing the nutcracker aside, the prairie dog hefts his bag of gifts and hops off of the table, plodding towards the door as the moans of pained Canadians fill the hall. Suddenly, as he reaches for the door, it bursts open as a large stick-like creature wearing a beanie enters.
Kagrama: HAY GOTHES (buet nott relly!) aem I laete for the FAESTIVIAES?
The prairie dog scowls at the creature.
Kagrama: gaesp! SAENTA whart aer yuo doingg hear?!
With a reach into his bag, the rodent produces a small toy train and hands it to Kagrama. Then, he hurries out the door into the cold snow.
Kagrama: whoe was taht maskde praeieire dogg?
With only two more objectives on the list in his pocket, the prairie dog grabs a nearby motorcycle and putters off towards his next target.
To Be Continued
But funny.
quote:
The propaganda machine of Mr. Parcelan's junta released this statement:
RedMage: ARGH! MY SPERM!
With those words I nearly wet myself laughing.
Under capitalism, man exploits man. Under communism, it's just the opposite. - John Kenneth Galbraith
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Mr. Parcelan had this to say about Reading Rainbow:
Like a dropped bomb, a fat prairie dog wearing a Santa hat and white beard falls down the chimney, dragging a large bag behind him as he walks to the table and hops up on it.
Oh Jesus Christ,
It's not something people hear about.
quote:
Sean stumbled drunkenly to the keyboard and typed:
YES.
I believe that was in an episode of The Shield wasnt it? I could be wrong, but i know you've mentioned this before.