Vin Diesel...err...Antestarr holds a gun to Rachels head, hoping to show Geb that his pending nuptuals will tear the fabric of the NeS to its very core...

Rachel: Geb, honey, save me from Vin Diesel!

Geb: Don't worry, my love! No out-of-work action star will get between us!

Vin Diesel: **** it, I'M NOT VIN DIESEL!

Mysterious Voice: No, I am.

From yet another tear in the NeS emerges a second mysterious speaker, who also happens to look and sound exactly like Vin Diesel.

Voodoo: Two Vin Diesels!? That can only mean one thing...

Bokken: But how do we know which one is the evil Vin Diesel!?

Rachel: I think that should be pretty clear!

Vin Diesel 1: I'm NOT Vin Diesel at all, let alone an Evil Vin Diesel!

Sarn: He makes a strong case.

Semievil: But isn't that just what an evil Vin Diesel would do?

Sarn: You make a strong case as well.

Rogue Leader: Why does one of them have to be evil at all?

Sarn: You do not make a strong case. Perhaps you are the evil Vin Diesel.

Vin Diesel 2: Clearly you must kill the imposter.

But which one is the imposter!? Are they both Vin Diesel? Are either of them? Does it matter?

Semievil : Clearly there is but one way to determine who the evil Vin Diesel is...

*Sem cranes to his full height and pulls back his cloak, revealing that he is in fact wearing a tweed suit. He steps up to a conveniently nearby podium and draws out a set of note cards.*

Sem : We must make use of... Vin Diesel Facts!

*A collective gasp is heard from a nearby studio audience followed by applause incited by a neon sign suspended above the crowd. The Vin Diesels are led by the lovely co-hostesses to their own respective podiums.*

Sem : Now to begin. Evil Vin Diesel, for what reason would you wear an athletic cup?

Evil Vin Diesel (still clutching a gun to Rachel's head) : I wouldn't know, since I'm not Vin Diesel.

Sem : Come now, you must have an answer.

EVD : Fine... uh... to protect the players on the other teams.

Sem : That is correct!

EVD : Eh?!

Sem : Now, Vin Diesel Numero Dos, What is Vin Diesel an anagram for.

VDND : I End Lives.

Sem : Ooh... quick response. Let's give him two points for that one. Alright, Evil Vin Diesel, what is your birthday tradition?

EVD : Oh, it's... uh... er... eating babies?

Sem : Ew... so sorry, but that is an incorrect response. Numero Dos, same question.

VDND : I... I pick a lucky child to hurl into the sun...

Sem : Correct!

*Vin Diesel Numero Dos hunches over his podium slightly and a grimace falls across his face.*

VDND : I'm... I'm a terrible father!

*A lone tear rolls down Vin Diesel Numero Dos' cheek.

Sarn : Careful everyone! I hear the last time he cried the only survivor was some punk named Noah and a bunch of animals!

EVD : You? A terrible father? Don't make me laugh. I'm the definition of a terrible father...

*Oh dear! It appears Evil Vin Diesel is about to go on a crazed monologue! Who can save us from such long-winded blather? Perhaps the shadowy figure watching in the distance, his shock of white hair flowing behind him, and his chiseled adventurer's features keeping him looking young despite his probable age... Only time, and money, will tell. So please, send all your money to NeS Narrator, PO Box 1158, Saluda North Carolina.*

Meanwhile, in Hell...

Jim7: Welcome. It's an honour to finally have you here, where I want you.

The Prince of Darkness stands in his most private inner sanctum before a damned shade of a human being. In this case, it is a damned shade of a Russian spy in a hammer-and-sickle-embroidered overcoat.

The Last True Evil: There must be some mistake. I've died before, and I belong in Paradise - that's where I went before!

Jim7: Yes, a regrettable cock-up. Your immortal soul may be the most convoluted piece of spiritual mish-mash I've ever laid demonic eyes upon, TLTE. Suffice it to say, you got in last time on a technicality.

Jim7 pulls up a chair - well, a massive infernal throne - with no difficulty and sits in front of TLTE's shaking form. He looks mildly bemused.

TLTE: A technicality?

Jim7: Surely you must remember...

He outlines a square in the air between them and it takes shape into a solid image: TLTE mortally wounded, lying under a tree, Gebohq and Losien tearfully consoling each other...

Jim7: You sacrificed yourself to save the ones you love. You gave your mortal being up willingly, so that they could continue. The oldest, and if I may say so, the most hackneyed way to buy a ticket to instant salvation.

TLTE: Then why am I in Hell, talking to you? I've done nothing but good since!

Jim7: Ah. Well, that's the interesting thing. I received a letter precisely an hour ago from an anonymous party. Quite a miraculous document, actually...

Jim7 reaches into his robes and pulls out an immaculate gilded envelope. As he withdraws the letter inside, a puff of blue smoke unmistakably emanates from out of its insides. Jim7 takes the letter, which is hand-printed in an ancient style of calligraphy, and reads it out.

Jim7: "Dearest Prince of Darkness,

My name is unimportant. My identity and purpose will come to your attention later in this plotfractal, but for now you need only know the information I wish to impart to you. Approximately 57 minutes from when you finish reading this letter, the Soviet spy clone known variously as The Last True Evil model #105 (hereafter, "TLTE") will die. By all accounts, this is the third death of this particular being, a condition that never seems to retain the permanency it acquires in all other cases.

TLTE's first death was caused by a being referred to as JediKirby, in an effort to quell the evil perpetrated by them both. He was sent immediately to Heaven, as a reflex usage of the Selfless Sacrifice clause, but was in a rare position to elect to return to his body as a result of the turbulent goings-on in the NeS at the time.

TLTE's second death was caused by none other than the Wielder Gebohq. Gebohq was forced to run TLTE through with the legendary NeSword after the spymaster had been possessed by the entity referred to as the Ever-ending Plot. Due to the "narrative lag" caused by the transition from NeS to NeSquared, TLTE remained in active service for several pages. When his imminent death finally caught up with him, he was reprieved by the selfless action of the rogue Absolver - who, ironically, was immediately sent to Heaven as a result of the exact clause TLTE neglected to benefit from.

This third death technically returns him to his original legacy - an eternity of damnation in Hell -"

At this point, Jim7 smiles at TLTE. It is an utterly predatory grin, all flashing incisors.

Jim7: Quite well written, isn't it? There's some interesting theory. I mean, here's where he reveals that he doesn't actually know what he's talking about, but up until here it was good. *ahem*

" - an eternity of damnation in Hell, because of an overriding principle that I need to inform you of. TLTE is, in fact, the True Enemy of the NeS. A popular misconception is that the EeP is the True Enemy of the NeS, but in reality, the EeP does not retain enough of a sense of self to even qualify as a standard villain. It is a beast - an immensely powerful and cunning beast - but it is not the problem at the moment.

You will notice I said TLTE is "technically" returned to you. This is due to the fact that, in this story, his villainy outstrips even your own - "

Jim7 doubles over in a belly laugh, composing himself gradually. He continues.

" - and so you have no power to damn him. I would encourage you instead to treat this as an opportunity for both of you. Put the boy to work for a while. You may even grow to like each other! After you have finished with him, set him back on his path. Believe me when I tell you, oh great and noble Prince, that if you knew (as I do) what this seemingly wretched fool in front of you will soon do...if you could foresee the look in his eyes (as I have) as he damns himself to a fate beyond the blackest pit in your kingdom...you would send him hence immediately.

- A Friend"

Jim7 respectfully folds the letter back into its envelope, still chuckling. TLTE looks on, disbelieving, eyes wide with horror.

TLTE: It can't be...I've tried too hard to reform...

Jim7: Oh, don't worry. Whoever wrote that letter clearly lost the plot in the last half. You, the True Enemy of the NeS? Being a True Enemy is an Ultimate Convention, magic weaved so finely and powerfully into the pages of a story like this...well, let's be honest. You're hardly Big Bad material, are you?

TLTE shrugs his non-corporeal shoulders pathetically.

Jim7: No, I think the real truth is that the powers above revoked your membership to the Eternal Country Club for less glamorous reasons. Anyway, that's neither here nor there. Let's get you into your lodgings...

Jim7 snaps his fingers, unleashing a blast of power that swirls around and above TLTE, frying the air with raw energy...and then it dissipates impotently, leaving no mark on the spy.

The Devil Lord turns around disbelievingly.

Jim7: What the home?

He fires another blast.

And another.

And another. None of them can so much as move TLTE an inch. TLTE looks down at himself in awe. Slowly, he extends a translucent hand in front of his face, and whispers to himself...

TLTE: "I want my body back."

And it happens. Instantly, TLTE regains his physical form - first, his body, then his black undergarments...shirt, pants, boots...and the immortal overcoat, weaving itself from nowhere and resting on his back like a cape.

TLTE: Great Lenin's ghost. This is the most amazing thing I've ever seen...

Jim7 strides up to him petulantly, eyes flaming.

Jim7: Well, don't get too comfortable there, Russian. We're putting you to work.

He strides away, leaving TLTE in darkness. It swirls around him easily, almost...lovingly?

((Edit from Geb: I just changed the blue font to be a lighter blue so it was more readable.))

Rogue: I've got it!

Everyone turns once again, to see the origin of this not really new voice, but they keep getting surprised by it anyway.

Sarn: Where do you keep coming from?

Geb: You've discovered a way to save my love?

Bokken: You know how to get rid of the zombies?

Sok Munkey: You've figured out how to get rid of all the voices I keep hearing in my head?

Rogue: Of course not. I know far too little about the backstory to hope to solve such problems. No, I have discovered the way to truly figure out which one is the real Vin Diesel!

Antestarr: I'M NOT VIN DIESEL!

Sarn: What do you suggest then?

Rogue: Obviously, the only TRUE way to figure this out is to set them both on fire!

Bokken: I'm not following...

Rogue: Well, fire would be afraid of the real Vin Diesel right? So whichever one doesn't burn, must be the real Vin Diesel!

Geb: But, what if the one holding a gun to Rachel's head isn't the real Vin Diesel? Wouldn't my love burn as well?

Rogue: Well, most likely yes. But, on the other hand, two people would make a much larger fire then one!

Sarn: Wait, are you just using this as an excuse so that you can set something on fire?

Rogue: I'm sure I don't know what your talking about.

How will the rest of the adventurers react to Rogue's not so subtly hidden pyromania? Will the two Vin Diesel's be lit on fire, as well as Geb's beloved Rachel? Or will the shadowy figure who Rogue doesn't really know somehow make an appearance and provide a solution that doesn't end in someone's fiery death?

(NSN: No, I wasn't planning on just making one post and then leaving. Just trying to figure out how I want my character to be, as well as trying to figure out how what the other characters are like. Maybe I'll make a post for Rogue in the Character sheets thread soon.)

(NSN: Another installment of Some Pseudo-Story, because I feel like it!)

When we last left off, our protagonist, Gebohq, was hanging hold over the edge of what appeared to be a bottomless pit-- wait a minute. Where did Gebohq go?

Gebohq: *screaming from the pit below* DOWN HERE!

Ah, let me catch up with your descent then... there we go. Our protagonist now free-falls, with no apparent end in sight.

Gebohq: I think I might die of boredom before anything else.

Actually, I'd venture dehydration, if you're fortunate. If you're not, your story will never be told, no one will know or care about your story, and you'll be forgotten, left to live the rest of your eternal pseudo-story without meaning as you fall into infinite abyss.

Gebohq: You're a lot of help. How is this entertaining anyone?

I sent everyone out for a recess. It's just you and me for now, and unless you give me some ideas soon, just you.

Gebohq: Uh...magically narrate me having captured The Last True Evil?

You're going to have to do better than that.

Gebohq: Uh... well, I was in that magical black-and-white, trippy, abstract-y, colossal corridor-thing before, right? The Thread of something?

The Thread of Perils, yes.

Gebohq: Right, Thread of Trouble. So if it's a thread, it might be woven into some larger pattern or something in this giant void that surrounds it and that I'm now falling through, yes?

Sure?

Gebohq: Well, just have me fall back into another part of this corridor-thread then! Maybe even have me on The Last True Evil's toes again, and continue the chase?

I suppose we can give it a shot, but you're on your own in regards to living the certainly-fatal impact once you stop falling.

Gebohq: What now?

The recess is just about over -- good luck!

Gebohq: This could be bad...

Sevenicci Manor, New York - home and stronghold of the Sevenicci clan, an enduring and prosperous Mafia family. The exquisite and stately home is somewhat marred by the armed guards endlessly patrolling the estate at all times, hinting at its sinister underbelly.

High above the mob soldiers and architectural facades that shield him from the world is the family's patriarch, Angelo Sevenicci. Angelo lounges in an ornate chair in a decadently adorned study, lighting a pipe that is as nearly as worn and tired-looking as its owner. The city's oldest organised crime leader is obviously used to unpredictable occurrences - and so when the door to his seventh-floor balcony flies open and a fierce black-clad stranger enters, he only looks around with some bemusement and resumes his study of the pipe.

Angelo: And so you've come, as I always expected you would.

TLTE: You...know who I am?

Angelo: I know who sent you. Your identity is of no consequence to me.

The pipe has a strange beauty to it, despite its age. The fine plume of smoke it emits reminds TLTE of Siberian mist. He takes a step closer, feeling oddly at ease with his target.

TLTE: Then you must know why I'm here. Your son sent me to -

Angelo: Don't be a fool, boy. My 'son' is long gone. His shell is all that remains, a cheap paper caricature. You weren't sent here by a man at all.

TLTE: Then by what name would you call him?

Angelo: The Un-Man. Mr. Scratch. Mephistopheles. The Morningstar. He told me he'd keep me safe for life, but I suppose my life has been long, and now it's finally coming to an end. It is time for an old man to pay his dues...settle up with the house and all that.

TLTE: And what was the trade? What gave you the grace of the Devil himself?

Angelo: Why, I thought that would have been obvious. I sold my son's soul.

For the first time, Angelo turns around and faces TLTE, who recoils instantly - the old man's ruined face is lit up with malice, and his teeth appear to be filed to points.

Angelo: I sold him my son's soul while he was an unthinking infant, while it was still my property. I gave my little Jimmy's body away, let his very essence be melted down like a wax soldier...all so that I could be the best that I could be. So that I would life a long, healthy life of crime. And you know what, stranger?

Defiantly, Angelo rises from his chair, wild eyes fixed on TLTE.

Angelo: I did.

TLTE's Smith and Wesson flies into his hand, and with great relief he points it at the old man's face.

TLTE: You belong in Hell more than any man I've known.

Angelo: Don't worry, boy - we'll meet again...

The chamber empties. The muzzle flashes. Angelo Sevenicci's body collapses to the floor, an empty husk.

TLTE: This place is cancerous.

He checks his weapons, oblivious to the rapid pounding and shouts of alarm from the other side of the study door. Suddenly, his pistol drops to his side. His hand is shaking, violently, pulsating with strange and diabolical energy.

TLTE: What's...happening to me?

His eyes flash red. His fingers momentarily taper out, becoming claws, before shrinking again.

And then, following an impulse deep within himself, TLTE raises his palms and ignites the world with an unholy fire.

Back at the mall, the scene is frozen as Mayaal and Bhac set the stage...

Mayaal: *flipping through a script* OK, so when we last left off, these guys were quizzing the two Vin Diesels, then there was a pseudo-story break, then a cut to The Last True Evil killing Angelo and igniting the world in an unholy fire, and then back to this scene as the first Vin Diesel-- wait, what's this about igniting the world on fire?

Bhac: I thought it got warmer all of a sudden...

I don't think that line was meant to be literal, Hands of NeS.

Bhac: Actually, I sort of like the idea.

Semievil: I don't want to be set on fire again! Also, I definitely called the whole "TLTE not really being dead" move.

Mayaal: Who said you could break convention and speak out of scene? And could you TRY to pretend to not know things you shouldn't know?

Semievil: But "just knowing things" is what I do!

Mayaal: Back in your place, or I'll slap character development on you harder than Shakespeare!

Semievil: *grumble*

Semievil resumes his statue-like pose with the other characters.

Mayaal: So about this unholy fire setting the world ablaze... The Last True Evil is your department, what are you going to do about it?

Bhac: My department? Do you see him plotting to take over the world or making life difficult for your good guys? In fact, didn't he just kill a bad guy in that last post? He's your department, Mayaal, so what are you going to do about it?

Mayaal: Ugh, why can't he just pick a side?

Bhac: Well, when I stop to think about it, it's not like he's the only one.

Mayaal: The Protectors are antagonistic to any side that's too powerful, that's not the same--

Bhac: I was speaking about Master Thand.

Mayaal: He's above sides, and you know that. More importantly, Master Thand isn't causing problems for the NeS. If anything, he solves them.

Bhac: It's not like we could do anything even if he was causing problems...

Mayaal: What are you implying?

Bhac: Nothing... you know I just like playing the Devil's advocate from time to time. In any case, since this was described as an unholy fire, I'll bite. I say it's literal... whether the other characters go with it is still up for grabs.

Mayaal: Hrm... a fiery backdrop could spice things up. And after all, the NeS isn't going to last much longer if this whole Geb-Rachel relationship doesn't break up soon. If the NeS goes out, it might as well go out in a blaze of glory.

Bhac: That's the spirit! BOYS! GET THE THERMITE!

( NSN: ... )

!MINUTES LATER!

The ancestral home of the Seveniccis, Sevenicci Manor, is utterly destroyed. A fire-gutted mausoleum is all that remains.

TLTE wanders through the hellish and ruined halls, periodically breaking his stride by stepping over charred corpses. His expression is one of deep concern.

TLTE: That...was weird.

The floor underneath TLTE gives way, dropping him downstairs into the shell of the kitchen. TLTE rises, barely noticing, still staring at his hands.

TLTE: Maybe I should see...a doctor.

The manor roof collapses inwardly, destroying what remained of the building's structure and covering TLTE in several tonnes of rubble. A bare moment later, the rubble explodes and disintegrates simultaneously. TLTE stands up, brushing his flaming hands on his coat, which promptly catches fire.

TLTE: Or perhaps I need...a priest.

His coat still on fire, apparently not causing him any distress at all, TLTE ambles off into the night.

Antestarr: ...I could have sworn I was about to say something.

The first Vin Diesel stands there, looking confused. His distraction is enough to drive him to let go of Rachel...who immediatly runs into the loving arms or Geb. The two kiss...an a deafening roar tears through the mass. A huge rip in reality opens up across from the hero's, so large they cannot even see around it...and out steps another Vin Diesel.

Vin Diesel 3: You guys really haven't noticed a correllation yet?

Bokken: A correlation between Geb and Rachel kissing and another Vin Diesel appearing?

Sarn: But if there are three, are there two evil Vin Diesels, or just one?

Voodoo: Or are all three evil?

Everyone gasps. Seriously, everyone. It's like someone suddenly released gasping gas in the mall or something.

Vin 2: Listen, it's very simple. I'm the real Vin Diesel, the good Vin Diesel, and you should only listen to me. And you should kill the other two.

Vin 3: Don't listen to him! He is the evil Vin Diesel, and He...

He points to Antestarr.

Vin 3: Is the good Vin Diesel!

Antestarr: I'm NOT VIN DIESEL!

Bokken: But what does that make you?

Vin 3: The...neutral Vin Diesel?

Sarn: But if you're neutral, why are you helping us? Shouldn't you just be sitting on the sidelines?

Vin 3: I was, but you all were taking way too long to figure this out and it really started pissing me off. Plus the whole NeS is coming apart at the seems, and no one is listening to the one guy that's trying to help.

Rachel: But...he tried to kill me! Geb...he's the evil Vin Diesel! Tell them he is!

Geb: Don't worry, Rachel, dear...

Bokken: He's not going to start another rap battle, is he?

Is he? Is He? IS HE!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! You'll just have to stick around to find out.

Gebohq: No.

Bokken: Oh. Well... that's good to hear, but what now?

Sarn: Have the Vin Diesels continue to ruin the NeS?

Vin Diesel #3: We're not ruining it! We're keeping Geb and Rachel's love and harmony from ruining the NeS!

Gebohq: I don't see what you can do about it. In case you hadn't noticed, we're main characters. In the end, nothing you do can hurt us.

Vin Diesel #2: We'll see about that.

Vin Diesel #2 then grabs Rachel and embraces her, lips locked. Naturally, even Rachel's undying love for Gebohq can only bear so much resistance against the manliness of Vin Diesel.

Gebohq: I...I can deal with this.

Vin Diesel #3: But can she deal with this?

Vin Diesel #3 suddenly embraces Gebohq, lips locked. Naturally, even Gebohq's heterosexual ways can only bear so much resistance against the awesomeness of Vin Diesel.

Vin Diesel #1: Uh...

Vin Diesel #1 looks for the closest thing, which happens to be the cat... Fortunately, the NeS won't be ruined quite THAT much yet, so Vin Diesel #2 conviniently stops to allow Rachel the emotional impact of Gebohq making out with someone else, and turns to Vin Diesel #1.

Vin Diesel #2: The other girl, fool! Make out with her as if it'll gave you acting abilities!

Vin Diesel #1: Oh, ok.

Vin Diesel #1 takes hold of Voodoosnowflakes and embraces her, lips locked. Unfortunately for Vin Diesel #1, Voodoosnowflakes is currently possessed by Captain Capdill, who by convention is meant to dominate a sexually-charged scene.

Semievil: None of this can turn out well...

Uh-oh, is the Never-ending Story becoming a slash-fic? Maybe it really IS going to be ruined...

((The latest attempts at ruining the NeS from Sem and I! Here's to something crazy happening.))

Suddenly, a quarter raccoon, quarter turtle, quarter zombie, quarter pie jet-skies on top of Sarn Cadrill!

SssssssshhhhrROOOOOOwH...... BOOOOOM!


AAaaaaaahhhhh!


Splat!

And now, because I was on vacation for the last post, a description of what just happened. The sounds you heard a moment ago accompanied very specific events. Allow me to recap.

SssssssshhhhrROOOOOOwH......

The quarter raccoon, quarter turtle, quarter zombie, quarter pie on a jetski comes zipping up the esclator. Sarn conveniently slips on some random zombie excrement and falls to the ground, just as the quarter raccoon, quarter turtle, quarter zombie, quarter pie on a jetski crests the escalator. It goes airborne, and skims inches over Sarn's face, effectively "jet-ski[ing] on top of" him.

BOOOOOM!

The quarter raccoon, quarter turtle, quarter zombie, quarter pie on a jetski smashes into a support beam several feet behind Sarn's now prone body, and explodes. There is a low rumble, and chunks of ceiling begin to fall from above, crushing several zombies. At this time our heroes go into dialogue, effectively ensuring their safety and an endless supply of falling debris.

Sarn: Well that was weird.

Sarn gets up and brushes himself off.

Voodoo: What the hell was that?

Sarn: I don't know.. it looked.. raccoonish.

Geb: Don't be silly. It was clearly a turtle.

Bokken: You're wrong. ZOMBIE!

Semievil: You guys are all dumb. It was pie. Delicious, tasty pie.

The heroes begin to fight over just what it was on the jet-ski. After roughly 20 minutes of argument, Vin Diesel pipes in.

Vin Diesel #1: Oh for pete's sake. It's been twenty minutes. Crap's still falling from the ceiling, and only zombies have been crushed! And it was obviously a quarter raccoon, quarter turtle, quarter zombie, quarter pie!

Sarn: Oh, what makes you so smart, Vin Diesel?

Vin Diesel #1: I read the damn script! And I am not Vin Diesel!

Sarn: Ha! You expect us to believe that? And what the hell are you doing kissing my girl! And Voodoo! What the hell are you doing letting him kiss you?

Voodoo: Well.. he is Vin Diesel...

Vin Diesel #1: No. I'm. Not. Damnit.

Sarn: I don't see what that has to do with anyth-

Vin Diesel #2 sweeps Sarn Cadrill up in a passionate kiss.

Sarn: Oh.. well. damn. You're forgiven, hon.

Voodoo smiles knowingly.

<NSN- Geb issued me a little bit of a challenge tonight. I've done my part, and now Geb assures me that there will be unspecified fabulous prizes for the writer who can take the first haiku below and expand it into a full post. The second haiku has nothing to do with anything, it just amused me when it popped into my head.>

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Damn Black and Decker
They never suspect the toast
Until far too late
~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dying test subject
Anyway this cake is great
Delicious and moist

Soriel wandered aimlessly, the thirst for blood welling within him so much that the very throb of his own drove him wild. Shuffling uneasily, he approached the mall where our heroes conveniently ensued in slash fan-fiction with Vin Diesel and discussed the finer points of the quarter raccoon, quarter turtle, quarter zombie, quarter pie on a jet-ski.

Soriel: Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill.

He barged into the mall, his speed picking up with the onset of murderous intent. The very prospect of death -
Fred: WAIT!

Soriel: What!? There's killing to be had!

Fred: Could you give it a rest with the killing? For crying out loud! There's more to life than blood, you know? [/COLOR]

Soriel: ... Like what?

Fred: Girls!

Soriel: Dead girls?

Fred: Live ones! They're better when they've got a pulse.

Soriel: Quiet you, I don't want to hear it...

Ignoring his sentient sword's outburst, Soriel marched past the well-placed Black & Decker store to give the current writer the first task set in the haiku. Someone had scrawled the word 'damn' before the sign so it read 'Damn Black and Decker'.
Approaching the bottom of the escalator, Soriel could hear the sound of living beings above.

Soriel: It's time for killing, Fred.

Fred: You're not planning to use me again, are you? You've only just cleaned me up. Look, I reflect and everything now...

Soriel: SILENCE BLADE!

Above...

Gebohq: Did you hear something?

Bokken: No...

Vin Diesel #1: Forget that! You should be listening to me! These tears in--

Yet another tear in the fabric of NeS existence opens above Gebohq and Rachel as their apparently illegal affair continues. A slice of toast falls ontop of Gebohq's head.

Vin Diesel #3: They never suspect the toast...

Bokken: Who?

Vin Diesel #3: I dunno. I think I had one of them epiphany things.

TLTE Mortal: That's be the day.

Rogue: You're still here?

TLTE Mortal: You're on to speak, no one remembers who you are.

Soriel: What use are they alive? I want to see their blood!
Fred: You'd get that once a month anyway, if you listen to me!

The renegade swordsman had stepped off his casual climb on the escalator. To the usual NeS crew, the man seemed to be having an in-depth discussion with his sword; not that they could hear the words of Fred.

Soriel: That's disgusting, even to me.

Fred: So picky... Look! There's some hotties up here!

Gebohq: Think he means the toast on my head?

Bokken: More likely the Vin Diesel #2/Sarn slash...

Soriel: Time for killing!
Fred: You could make that a catch phrase, the rate you go on .

Soriel: SILENCE BLADE!

Sarn finally finished his hot, passionate kiss with Vin Diesel #2.

Sarn: He shouts the name of his sword before using it?

Soriel: Fool! This is Teh Uber Blade!

Bokken: I reckon The Silence Blade sounded pretty cool actually.

Fred: Not that you care, but I prefer to be called Fred...

Soriel: Quiet! It's time for killing!

Fred: There he goes again. Look, we could at least grab the chicks. You kill the men, I get the women. Deal?

Soriel: Grr... FINE!

With sudden speed, dexterity and seeming disregard for physics, Soriel whizzes about the room slicing every, single man in the room. No one realised what was happening until far too late. See what I did there?
When the carnage was wrought and each of the males lay upon the ground bleeding profusely, Soriel turned to the remaining women.

Soriel: Right, Fred wants you three.

Voodoo: Who's Fred?

Soriel: My sword. He likes the name.

Rachel: You... killed...

Soriel: Yeah. Great wasn't it? Look at all the entrails... Think I could win the Turner Prize with this?

Ricky: I've been trying to do that for so long...

Fred: Take the chicks! C'mon, let's get outta here before the next writer bringing all these pissed off blokes back to life...

Soriel: What?

Fred: Forget it. Just get moving.

With that, Soriel ushers the two disorientated and bewildered women out of the mall. Is this finally the end of the NeS? After all, what kind of action story has just women in it, I ask you?


<NSN> My first post here. Nothing like mass-slaughter to break the ice. Did I fill the criteria for the haiku? :p Here's for new antagonists screwing things up...:ninja:</NSN>

Oh no! Soriel just robbed us of the only two real men in the room! We're doomed!

Geb: Hey! I resemble that remark!

Ricky: You certainly don't resemble a dead person.

Geb: Shouldn't you be mad that you're not considered a real man?

Ricky: I'm not. Now stay dead.

Ricky proceeds to stabbity-stab Gebohq s'more...

around the corner from where all this carnage has just happened...

Ford the Hero: Its not that i dont want to talk to you anymore, its just i've been busy you know, with the human uprising against the demon overlords, and delivering stolen goods to the forgotten. its been a hectic couple of arcs man.

Cheshire Zippo: couple of arcs my arse, i havent been seen since you first appeared in TACC campaign. you got popular and have forgotten your roots. even Mustang, one of my old friends seems to have forgotten about me.

Ford: should have joined the forgotten then.

CZ: woulda done, but i dislike politics. they are all a bunch of pansies anyway, and...

As the cheshire zippo says this, soriel comes rushing aorund the corner fred thrust out in front of him and dragging voodoo and rachel behind him.

Soriel: Ah fresh meat! Its killing time!

Fred: great not again. ignore him ladies.

Ford: woah, dude, i dont know who you are but you need to calm the fudge down.

Fred: like that'll happen in our lifetime.

Soriel: SILENCE BLADE!

CZ: Fred?

Fred: No way!

CZ: Aw, man it is you! I havent seen you in a dogs age!

Fred: it has been quite a while hasnt it. hows old Mustang?

Soreil: SILENCE BLA...wait, he can hear you?

CZ: course he can. this guys like a brother to me. we go way back. practiacally forged from the same magic steel.

Fred: Too right. my old master was mortal enemy to Mustang Ford, of the league of heroes back in the day.

CZ: Yeah. great villain. always had the best one liners. "When i'm done with your face..."

Fred: ...Queen Victoria will be attractive by comparison." man those were the days.

my goodness, what an interesting development! so interesting, i cant even think of questions to use as an outro to this post! stay tuned for more!

[LEFT]Rachel begins to chuckle.

Soriel: What's so funny?

Rachel: That nobody figured this plot out. They all thought whole story-arc of things screwing up happened by chance, but no one suspected that I might be the cause of all this...

Voodoo: What are you saying, Rachel...?

Rachel: My name is April Fool, and this entire story-arc has been a means of working my way into the story and exerting my influence on the other days of the year, and thus, over the NeS.

Ford: Oh, I get it. Today's April Fool's Day. Good way to work it in, new girl.

Soriel: What the hell is going on?

Rachel/April: You'd like to think that, but would it be possible to pull an April Fool's prank in a story-arc like this?

Voodoo: Yes. ...no. I don't know now.

Rachel/April: By getting this story-arc off the ground, I've given myself a fool-proof method of escaping my holiday prison. If you don't believe me, wait it out. See what happens. But I wouldn't like to be any of you that stick around to find out what does happen...

Is this an April Fool's post, or is this for real?

Soriel: I hate you all.
[/LEFT]

From within the vegetation suddenly but stealthily springing up all around Rachel and Soriel, a twisted and hateful voice whispers ...

(rabid)Sugarless: No, my precious ... the holidays are mine, the weeks are mine, the fortnights are mine, the months are mine, the quarters are mine, the half years are mine, the years are mine, the decades are mine, the centuries ...

Oh, for God's sake, get on with it!!

(rabid)Sugarless: ALL days are mine ... the one NeS is mine, mine, MONE!!! Oh, sorry, MINE!!! Ah ha hah, ah ha hah ha ha haaah *drool* *gurgle*

The susurrant vegetation quietens, malevolent in its stillness.

Soriel: Umm, did you forget to put the cat out?

*Antestarr begins to regain consciousness. He's amazed to find that somehow the pain of a vicious stab wound feels a great deal like nothing. The fleeting idea of having passed into an afterlife paradise quickly leaves his mind as he begins to make out the dank interior of an underground boiler room. He tries to wipe his eyes to get a clearer view, only to find them bound to a chair in which he resides.*

Antestarr: Hm. None of the comforts of heaven or hell. This is the worst afterlife ever.

Voice: At least you get to meet your maker here.

Antestarr: That... you... what are you doing in my afterlife?

*Antestarr's Writer steps around from behind the chair, placing a set of large rings on his hand.*

Ante the Writer: Been a long time. Miss me?

Ante the Hero?: Well, I've never really been one for being steered around like a character in a point and click adventure...

AtW: Well, to my credit, at least I never had you randomly using items with other items to try and find a solution at random.

AtH: You had me disassemble a Personal Singularity Generator and rebuild it into an Acoustic Guitar.

AtW *backhanding AtH with his handful of rings*: We will have no truth in here!

AtH: What do you want?

AtW: You died... but before you did, you left things a mess. Demons and forgotten characters vying for control of the world. A character created from aspects of The Story itself. Even a hole so empty you couldn't even explain it away as a plot malfunction. I've seen what you're doing. I can't leave you alone for 5 years.

AtH: Your point? The people are learning to take care of themselves. When they drive off the menace, and they will, the people of the world will be closer together than ever before. As for the hole, well, that can be left as a reminder to the other writers that The Story itself will do anything to protect its child, even if it means harming itself. And Young... my blank character... why, she's the fulcrum on which my plan hinges.

AtW: You're destroying the natural order! The writers are there to create, to give life! You are all but players on the stage. The players don't rewrite the script because they don't like the ending.

AtH: And when it's over? The players just fade away? I won't have it. I can't have it!

AtW: Then I won't give you a choice. Neither one of us is where we belong right now, but as a writer, I still have some power. The way I see it, few people on your side of the border can do anything about what I'm about to do. I believe you worked with one of them before. How is Professor Thand these days?

AtH: I wouldn't know. The last time I saw him I nearly died.

AtW: Ah, yes. It's a shame your "condition" has followed you to this place between the worlds...

*Ante the Writer walks to a laptop on a nearby desk. After a moment of clicking and typing, he glances back to Ante the Presumed Heroish Type Despite Recent Proclivities, who has begun to cough violently.*

AtH: *cough* What *cough* have you *cough* done?

AtW: I've only done what is necessary to end the stagnation if your precious story. You've seen yourself that your quest for freedom is slow and ponderous, and the other writers have declined in their activities. I'm giving them the chance to move on. NeS is just too old... it's time to put the ol' girl out of her misery.

Voodoo the writer unsure how to handle the NeS in the state it is in, goofs off and writes a Haiku.


Deli blades of death
Whirling slicing and killing
Nothing can stop them

Antestarr slowly opened his eyes, the groggy feeling of being deleted still awash over him. His hearing managed to return before his vision, the sound of loud typing dragging him back from sleep.

He realised that he was still strapped to the chair his writer had confined him to and suddenly remembered that he and the entire NeS was about to be extinguished forever.

Antestarr: NO!

But rather than seeing his creator at the laptop, he saw a startled new face.

Antestarr: Who the hell're you?

TheBritt: I'm... Well, I'm actually the newbie 'round here, to be honest. Massassi hired me not so long ago. Hullo! Name's Britt!

Antestarr nodded casually at the bespeckled writer before frowning and snapping back to attention.

Antestarr: Wait, what're you doing?

TheBritt: Well, I couldn't let Antestarr... Uh, I mean... the other Antestarr... as in the writer Antestarr... the real life Ante--

Antestarr: I get it.

TheBritt: Right! Of course, you do! Sorry. Well, anyway. I couldn't let him destroy the NeS just like that could I?

Antestarr: That's very noble of you...

TheBritt: Well, actually I just didn't fancy looking for another job. I only got to make one instalment, you know?

Antestarr: I take it back...

TheBritt Writer made one final-sounding tap on the keyboard and Antestarr felt as though a new flush of life rushed through him. The vitality he had lost in the previous post was now boosted up again; harder, better, faster, stronger!

TheBritt: Okay, you'll be going back to the NeS now. You got murdered by Soriel, so don't be alarmed by the blood and all. I brought you all back so everything should be fine now...

Antestarr: Thanks. I appreciate this.

TheBritt: You're welcome!

Antestarr: Before I go though. You said you only made one instalment? Which part was that?

TheBritt: Uh... the part where Soriel showed up and killed you all... Bye!

Antestarr: Wait, what!? You di--

* * * *

Antestarr opened his eyes and shot up, only to regret it as his sore head suddenly throbbed in complaint. He placed a hand to his forehead to find it smeared with blood. It would seem that Soriel had chosen to slice his brains open.

Gebohq: What... what happened?

Antestarr: Looks like we're all still alive after all...

Semievil: That was a strange occurence...

Bokken Monkey: Who was that guy? I swear, I thought my bad luck had finally caught up with me...

Semievil: What?

Bokken Monkey: Nothing! *sing*

Sok Munkey: Aren't our numbers a little shy?

Sarn: Ricky's missing...

Gebohq: Nota great loss...

Everyone: ... ... ... ...

Antestarr: Rachel and Voodoo?

Gebohq: Crap! Vin Diesel's right!

Antestarr: Oh for fu--



* * * *



Ricky stretched out lazily as she begrudgingly opened her eyes. Another day was upon her. Another day to plot the demise of Gebohq and his friends...

Fred: Hey, Soriel. I can see up that April chick's skirt...

Ricky groaned as she remembered where she was, staring at the floor of the mall. She sat up, returning her fallen stetson to her head.

Soriel: What the hell happened?

Ricky: God knows. Rachel becomes April Fools... or something... and then we're all waking up here...

Ford: I think... I think I just died...

Cheshire: You're just being paranoid...

Fred: You 'em, Chesh! While you're at it, get 'em to take these babes outta here and somewhere more... private...

Cheshire: Uh... you sure that one's a girl? She looks kinda boyish to me...

Ricky instantly knew that the seemingly one-sided conversation emanating from within Ford's lighter was about her. Normally, she used her androgenous appearence as a shield to make herself feel stronger however she believed that her life had only been spared on the account that she was a female and she was forced to make a snap-decision.

Ricky: I... I am a girl! I've got... breasts and everything!

Fred: See? I've got a 'lady sensor', I have. Maybe we should get her to prove she's got a pair?

Cheshire: No time! Me and Ford spent long enough with those guys upstairs to know they'll be scurrying about like headless chickens looking for these girls any minute.

Soriel: Bring it on! I cut them down once, I'll do it again!

Fred: Except last time they thought you were just a raving loony. Now they think you're a raving loony with a genuinely murderous streak!

Ford: I've an idea. How about we make off with these girls, make an escape and then you can think about how to kill them all again?

Soriel: Okay, fine! Can I kill the manly one though? You don't want to feel gay, do you?

Fred: Hey! There's a lot to be said for the Tom-boy look! She might not look it now, but wait 'til that shirt's off! It's gon--

Ford: No time! We need to get gone.

Ricky watched as Ford picked up a small, pocket-sized book with the title, "Quick-stop World Tour: Conjure your own portals to various places all over the globe!" She had to wonder what kind of magician this Ford character was but decided to play the happy hostage for now. She might even be able to join up with this pair and finally get to kill Gebohq!

Sugerless: I really think we should hurry...

Soriel: What the hell!?

Ricky: Christ! Where did you co-- ... Wait, didn't you show up just before we all died?

Sugerless: ... ... I guess, I did?

Ricky: You seem a little... air-headed. Are you okay?

Sugerless: ... ... I guess so?

Fred: The chicks just flock to me, ya know?

Soriel: SILENCE BLADE! You! Woman! Are coming with us as another of our prisoners!

Sugerless: ... ... Yay?

Soriel looks at Ricky and then back to Sugerless.

Soriel: "Air-head" doesn't cut it...

April: Where do you think you're taking me? You know, my Geb will come and kick your asses wherever you run off to...

Voodoo Snowflakes: What happened to taking over the world?

April: Oh! That was just a joke! April Fools!

Voodoo Snowflakes: ...

Ricky: ...

April: Oh, c'mon! That's what I do! I play jokes! It was fun!

Voodoo Snowflakes: ...

Ricky: ...

April: Oh... fiddle-sticks...

Ford finally opened the portal after much hand waving and word mumbling. It swirlled with a brilliant blue hue, sparkling magnificently as each of them walked through it and into a new area of the NeS, closing behind them with the only hint anyone had been there being a series of flower petals that Sugerless had mournfully cast to the ground before ushered away...



* * * *

Late night stars twinkle in the sky above the Massassi Building where two of the NeS writers were putting the finishing touches to the latest post after having stayed up all night working on it (again).

Geb Writer: Well, that was a fairly large post! You trying to take over?

TheBritt Writer: Haha! Just got a bit carried away, I guess!

The door to Geb's Office opens as Antestarr the Writer wanders in with a midnight snack and stops dead as he looks at the two jolly faces.


Ante Writer: Who's the new guy?

Geb Writer: This is Britt! He's the one that tried to kill all of our characters off...

TheBritt Writer: Hi! *sings*

Geb Writer: I've already beaten him up for that. Won't tolerate anyone trying to wreck the NeS on MY watch!

Ante Writer: ... Is that right?

TheBritt Writer: Well since you tried to swit--

Antestarr the Writer plants a firm hand over the newbie's mouth and grins at the surprised Gebohq the Writer.

Ante Writer: Time for some newbie initiation tasks, don't you think?

Geb Writer: Hum, well okay. He's finished this post now, you can make him your work monkey until I need him next. Just don't try to photocopy his head this time. The last newbie was crying for days...

TheBritt Writer mumbled loud protests from beneath Antestarr the Writer's hand.

Suddenly, Geb the Writer is dragged away by three beautiful women!

Britt the writer: *as he's getting tarred and feathered* Oh no, he's gone!

Ante the writer: Don't you worry, they're probably just uh... asking for directions to the nearest bar? In any case, don't you worry, he'll be back any second now...

The two look through the doorway that Geb the writer was dragged through.

Ante the writer: Any second now...

Britt the writer: This is bad, isn't it?

Ante the writer: Depends on how you look at it. Do you see writing for the NeS as fun or as a chore?

Britt the writer: Uh...fun?

Ante the writer: You new guys are so funny...

Oh no, when will Geb the Writer return? Will the NeS be able to survive without his annoyingly bothersome ways? Find out! ...You know, next time he posts, probably...

The thread opened, having no alternative, on the last page. CookedHaggis had sat out of it, as though he were free, sporting a grin of aloof amusement. The return to maitre d', the role of critic and dictator, did not entail much change. 'It passes the time', he thought, forgetting that it would have passed anyway. It's easy to forget when life consists of ensuring the blancmange is the right consistency.

It was for these reasons, but not only these reason, that the disembodied voice of Gebohq scared him.


Geb: ....what the....wait, why's my voice all echo-y?



It's a ****ing disembodied voice. Of course it's scary.




And then, for no particular reason that the the clientele could tell and much to the the chagrin of the important personages whose requests he was currently supposed to be fulfilling, this happened:

CookedHaggis: Erm, would you --- please, excuse me sir --- but, what is going on here?

Fortunately, there was somebody, or, some conveniently tolerant voice, available to explain it all to him. Very concisely.

And now for another edition of Mystery NeS Theatre….

When last we let our intrepid posters, they were just sitting down to a long night of pen and paper roleplaying.

Ante the Writer: I thought they were contracting PSAs for the Health and Plot Association.

Sarn the Writer: Dude that was pages ago, seriously you're bringing back the posters?

Krig the Writer: Krig thought they were forming the constellations and battling space robots to save the princess.

No, they were roleplaying, talk back again and raptors will eat your shoes!

Sem the Poster: *spooky narrative voice* You find yourselves in a room. Before you there is a goblin. He stands defiant and bloodthirsty. Behind him there is a cake.

Voodoo the Poster: What are we doing again?

Sem the Poster: You’re hungry. You want cake.

Geb the Poster: I run away! Wait. How big is the room?

Sem the Poster: 10 by 10 by 10. What’s your move speed?

Geb the Poster: *scribbles on the side of his character sheet* Uhmn… 4720 feet/round.

Sem the Poster: What the hell?

Geb the Poster: Plus a 5-foot step. Is there like a door or something?

Sem the Poster: I didn’t have time to write one in. So Geb’s doing laps around the joint, is anyone going to attack the goblin?

Sarn the Poster: I seduce him.

Sem the Poster: You fail.

Sarn the Poster: I didn’t even roll! I have like a 25 charisma!

Sem the Poster: Do you have Language: Goblin?

Sarn the Poster: … I seduce him by stabbing him in the face! Can I use charisma on my attack roll for that?

Sem the Poster: Just… don’t even roll it. He dies.

Voodoo the Poster: He dies? Just like that? No rolls? But I just got new dice...

Sem the Poster: Sarn suffocated him with stupid. I’m ruling that minimum damage was more health than he had.

Voodoo the Poster: So I get the cake now?

Sarn the Poster: What? No I already said I picked it up.

Sem the Poster: Roll initiative to see who got the cake first.

Voodoo the Poster: 27.

Sarn the Poster: 18… damnit.

Geb the Poster: Aww… I rolled a one… so that comes to… 824.

Sem the Poster: What the hell class are you?

Geb the Poster: Class? I didn't take any, I put it all in DEX.

Sem the Poster: But... that... how...

Geb the Poster: All in DEX!!!!

Sem the Poster: Well... Congratulations. You have cake. The cake is delicious. And moist.

Voodoo the Poster: I wonder if there’s a confectionery somewhere making these deliciously moist cakes?

Sarn the Poster: It could be guarded by more goblins.

Sem the Writer: Hmm… I’ll write it up for next week. I think we’ll switch themes and bust out the Paranoia rulebooks though. Insane computers guarding cake? Not too cliché for you guys is it?

And that concludes this edition of Mystery NeS Theatre. Is Gebohq really a Soviet dessert spy? Is Voodoo secretly in love with the Goblin? What will happen when Sarn finds out? Tune in next thread for the exciting conclusion!

(NSP: Since this one is based on something rather more obscure than most of my ripoff posts, if you don't recognize it go ahead and Google "Orc and Pie")

Back to the bit where Geb the Writer has been captured by three beautiful women ...

Geb the Writer: *smiling with a dopey happiness* Where are you taking me? What are you going to do with me?

Beautiful Woman 1: Just you wait, you big hunk of man love, you!

Beautiful Woman 1 presses her body against Geb the Writer, nuzzles his ear, strokes his face with one hand while running her other hand down his body until ....

Beautiful Woman 2: *with more than a little disgust* Oh just stop ... this is SO wrong.

Beautiful Woman 2 turns into Calilmalith.

Calilmalith: Really Thrawn, that is just too low, even for you.

Beautiful Woman 1 and Beautiful Woman 3 turn into Thrawn42689 and Caspian respectively.

Geb the Writer: What ... what the? What are you doing? NOT FAIR!

Caspian: Oh, shush. You see, Geb the Writer ... may I just call you Geb? Well, you see, Geb, we've been trying to get to the Haunted House of Heroes for quite a few posts now, but we just can't seem to get there.

Calilmalith: At first, I blamed these two, but I suspected that there was something far deeper, something far more destructive at play. Finally, I realized that it was you who was to blame. You'd issued a challenge to screw up NeS.

Thrawn42689: And so we have been wandering, Geb the Writer, without purpose, with only "Je NeS se qua"!

Silent groan from NeS narrator ... and probably others.

Caspian: *to NeS narrator* Watch it, sunshine!

Calilmalith: *flashing a rare smile at Caspian* Nice one, brainiac.

Caspian: Thank you. *to Geb the Writer* We can't let you get away with it, Geb. The structure of NeS is fragile ... actually, flaky is a better term, given that there is no ..

Calilmalith: *loud, extremely bored sigh*

Caspian: Umm, quite. NeS is unstable, but its fractal nature allows it to persist despite this inherent instability. More than fractal, it behaves as an attractor and ...

Calilmalith: *loud, extremely bored and somewhat aggressive sigh*

Caspian: Right. We can't let you do it, Geb. We can't let you incite others to destroy NeS.

Calilmalith: It's not personal. We're not against you, but we are not with you either. So just watch it.

Caspian: *pushing his face into Geb the Writer's face* Geddit?

Geb the Writer: Umm, yeh.

Calilmalith and Caspian turn and walk away.

Thrawn42689 walks up to Geb the Writer, and stands over him threateningly.

Thrawn42689: I would destroy you all but in my own time, not yours.

Thrawn42689 also turns and walks away. Suddenly all three disappear.

Geb the Writer: Umm ... I need a donut!

A donut appears in mid air and hovers in front of Geb, waiting.

Geb the Writer: Wow, that's never happened before!

Geb the Writer hesitates, uncertain as to whether take the donut or not ...

...

... ... ...?

Narrator: *snoring loudly* Nnngggk. Nnnnggggkkkkkk. Norgk!

Cali the Writer: Oh, don't start criticizing, you just try and write snoring. Hey, you. Narrator. Wake up! Wake the f**k up!

Hmm! What? Oh. *yawns long and mightily*. Ahem. Right. Will Geb the Writer take the donut? What will happen to our intrepid threesome? Does anyone care? What time is it? That late? Oh, my, my, my. Time for bed.

Cali the Writer: *sigh* I can't work with amateurs.

Cadpill: This place reminds me of the time I was on the planet Umamaza III. Small little creatures called Eeeps inhabited it. They didn’t look threatening but they were very venomous. Did I ever tell you about that?

Soriel: Silence Woman!

Cadpill: That is no way to talk to your Captain, Ensign!

Suddenly a cute little fluffy creature hopped into their path.

Sugarless: Oooh!

Cadpill: No don’t touch them! Their overwhelming cuteness is their way of getting you to touch them and poisoning you!

Soreil: KILL!

After hacking the cute, fluffy animal into pieces, the group take a look at their new surroundings. The landscape was rocky and patched with ferocious lava pits that bubbled and spewed angrily. The air was hot and the thick steam dampened the air.

Ricky: Where the hell are we?

Ford: Buggered if I know...

Ricky: What!? You brought us here!

Ford: I know, I know. I meant to take us to Disney Land. I figured that'd be the one place even Gebohq wouldn't follow us.

Soriel: This 'Land of Disney' sounds like a formidable, dangerous place!

Ford: Oh, it is! Human-sized rats, pirates, duck-monsters that speak with demonic tongues!

Soriel: We should have gone there! All we can kill here are these furry animals!

Cadpill: I told you! Those're foul beasts! I remember one time when Jimmy had his bollo-

Ford: I don't think we need to know the rest of that!

Fred: This isn't the sorta place we can sex the ladies... [/color]

Ricky: Wait, I think we're missing someone...

Ford: Me, Soriel, Fred, Cheshire, Tomboy, Skitzo... ah, the airhead's gone...

Soriel: What!? She's trying to escape!!? I'll slice her in half!

Cheshire: Actually, I think she's gone after one of those fluffy things... [/color]

Each of them turn to see Sugerless tottering after an innocent-eyed creature as it hopped away from the group toward a nearby chasm.

Sugerless: Come back, bunny!

Cadpill: GAH! SHE'LL BE THE DEATH OF US ALL! HALT! STOP! WOMAN!

Soriel: AFTER HER!!

Speeding after the slow-moving Sugerless, the bunny-creature leaps into the chasm. Fortunately, Sugerless wasn't quite dim enough to leap after it and she peers over the ledge with large, curious eyes.

Sugerless: Bunny? ... More bunnies!

They come to a screeching halt at the chasm ledge and all stare down with a sinking sense of terror as a gigantic horde of the devilishly cute brutes stare back up at them from the chasm floor.

Ricky: There must be thousands of them!

Ford: What do you reckon they eat...?

Ricky: ...

Soriel: ...

Fred: ... [/color]

Cheshire: ... [/color]

Sugerless: Carro-

Soriel: Woman! Are these man-eaters? How do they attack!?

Voodoo Snowflakes: Eh? You talking to me?

Ford: Damn! She's gone back to her normal self!

Voodoo Snowflakes: Hey! What the hell do you mean by that!?

Soriel: BAH! Sod it! I can take them! They're soft and vulnerable! I killed one already!

No sooner had the serial killer said this than the bunny-like creatures began to transform, their small, cute faces growing an immense number of sharp, needle teeth. The now huge mouths seemed unrealistically proportioned to the rest of their small, fluffy bodies.
Each of the group wore an expression of puzzled shock.

Ford: Good gravy!

Sugerless: Are these bunnies hungry?

Ford: Very.

Ricky: Either that or they want revenge for their dead bunny friend...

Soriel: SILENCE WOMAN!

Cheshire: Has anyone suggested running yet? [/color]

Ford, carrying Cheshire, Voodoo, Ricky and Sugerless suddenly flee, leaving Soriel facing off against the demon-rabbits alone...

Soriel: Wha-!? Cowards!

Fred: Run, Soriel! What're you doing!? [/color]

Soriel: I can take 'em!

Fred: But there's thousands of them!! [/color]

Soriel: Well... granted there's a lot of them. But still, they're ju-

The rabbit-beasts began to ascend the canyon walls with huge, extended claws that dug into the rock with ease...

Soriel: Okay, fine...

Soriel runs after the rest of the group!

*Meanwhile, Antestarr and his Ante-crew are trying to figure out what happened to the ladies.*

Gebohq: I finally meet the love of my life and then the jerk writers randomly take her away!

Antestarr: Come on. You can't have expected a free ride. There's obviously going to be some sort of heroic rescue quest involved.

Gebohq: Then let me assure you, sir, that I am equal to the task!

Antestarr: Uh, yeah. You do that.

*Suddenly, there is a blinding flash of light.*

Gebohq: What the heck was that?

Sok Munkey: I dunno, it just - hey look! Free toaster!

*Sok is correct: where before there was empty space now sits a Black and Decker T4500 toaster.*

BokkenMonkey: I have jam!

Sok Munkey: Sweet!

Antestarr: ...why do you have jam?

*Before Ante can get to the bottom of the jam mystery, the toaster speaks up in an oddly robotic East-European accent.*

T4500: Scanning lifeforms...subject 'Rachel Pi' not present.

Gebohq: Yep, Rachel Pi. She's my girlfriend. We're practically going steady at this point. Uh-huh.

Antestarr: Why are you looking for her, uh...mister...

T4500: I am a 4500 series Toasting Unit. I was brought on-line 30 November 2037 in Black and Decker facility Pacific Northwest.

Sok Monkey: Let's get this future toaster started!

*Sok Monkey attempts to force a bagel into one of the T4500's slots. In response, a side panel opens up on the toaster revealing a small but deadly submachinegun. The T4500 fires a short burst, spraying rounds into Sok's chest and appearing to kill the hero.*

BokkenMonkey: Oh God, it hates us!

T4500: My primary functions are the heating - but not burning - of grain products and the termination of human life.

Antestarr: Wow, the future must be a really interesting place.

BokkenMonkey: He killed my fellow odd first-name-with-monkey-last-name character! Don't you care?

Antestarr: It's hard to be broken up over the whole thing when he kept calling me Vin Diesel.

BokkenMonkey: (sniffles) ...I'll never forget you, my only friend.

Gebohq: So, space-toaster, why are you looking for Rachel Pi? Not to brag, but she's my girlfriend...

Antestarr: Yeah, you said that one already.

T4500: My primary mission is the termination of the human known as 'Rachel Pi'. In this timeline she gives birth to a child who will lead the human resistence to victory against the machines.

Gebohq: ...who I've never heard of before.

*Ante facepalms.*

Antestarr: Nice save.

T4500: Satellite uplink complete. Commencing scan of local urban centres for target.

*Little rockets deploy from the bottom of the T4500 unit and it soars off into the horizon, searching for Rachel.*

Gebohq: This is a disaster! I finally meet the love of my life and then this jerk toaster-terminator tries to kill her!

Antestarr: Maybe this is time for that hero business you were so equal to.

Gebohq: Or is it terminator-toaster?

Antestarr: We'd better do something, though. If self-aware machines do attempt to exterminate the human race in the not-so-distant future this could be our last hope.

Gebohq: Toastinator.

Antestarr: I wonder if the resistence fighters sent anyone back in time?

Gebohq: Terminoaster.

Antestarr: Are you ready to rock?

*A grim look of determination sets over Geb's face.*

Gebohq: Let's do this thing.

BokkenMonkey: Is anybody else wondering why that toaster had a funny accent?

*Geb and Ante break out the guns.*

Gebohq: Lock and load, buddy. We've got to find her first.

BokkenMonkey: It sounded...Austrian.

Back in the mysterious, rabbit-infested dimension the small group are casually sat around a small camp fire, the comforting flames licking around the meat skewered upon the spit-roasts. Several overly large monster-rabbit heads lie to rot in a large pile to one side.

Ford: Nice one, Soriel. That was sweet!

Soriel: Ha! That was nothing! You should have seen me slay the Creepy Crawlies of Insectia! That was intense!

Fred: Bah! He's exaggerating! He just stomped on them all, I wasn't even used...

Soriel: SILENCE BLADE!

The crackle of tinder, silent night air and full bellies eased the stressed spirits of the gang and even the supposed captives were content to lie on their backs, staring up at the now dark, starry sky. All was at peace beside the excited chuckle from Sugerless as a shooting star sailed across the dotted black veil above them.

Soriel: ... I'm getting bored ...

There was a sudden crack of soul-wrenching sound and a blinding flash of light that caused each of them to shoot up in shock.

Ricki: You just had to jinx us, didn't you?

Soriel: Bah!

Ford: What the hell was that? I don't see anyth- Wait. There!

An ominous, silent silhouette emerged from the shadows, seeming to melt from within them into a corporeal form. As it stepped into the light of the flickering fire, the young girl's soft features came into view and all of them had a peculiar sense of familiarity.

Girl: Hullo! ^_^

Fred: Whoa! Lolita! Don't get much better than the cuties!

Soriel's eye twitched violently and a snarl spread across his face as he tried to control his rage against the perverse sword.

Sugerless: Hullo! ^_^ The blonde-haired woman accompanied her greeting with a broad grin and little wave.

Riki: How the hell did you get here?

Ford: More importantly, who the hell are you?

Girl: You're not very friendly are you?

Soriel: NO! He glowers down at the young girl with venom practically falling from his eyes, ignoring Fred's comments about uses for female street urchins.

The girl pouted back at the blue-haired maniac before looking at each of the group individually, drawing her eyes from Riki's stetson reluctantly. She finally settled on Voodoo Snowflakes with a cheerful grin.

Girl: Big Sis'!

Voodoo: Eh?

April: What?

Ford: You've got to be kidding me...

Sugerless: Yay! Voodoo has a little sister!

Voodoo: No I don't!

Sugerless: Yes you do! She's right here!

Voodoo: Sugerless, you are an idiot...

Sugerless: Really? ... Yay!

Ford: I think you'd better explain yourself...

Girl: Okay, okay, sorry. I'm Magick Snowflakes and I travelled here from the future to save Gebswoq's mum from being killed by an evil time-travelling toaster of doom!

Everyone: ...

A long paused filled with hesitant, disbelieving glances ensued. Magick was dressed somewhat messily, worn, torn jeans sporting a gaping hole adorned her legs, while large, white sneakers were upon her feet, though appeared closer to grey with age. She had a small, blue t-shirt on beneath a thick, fur-lined bomber jacket that was covered in a multitude of badges and decorative patches. Her untidy, curly, blonde locks bounced around her shoulders, kept in check by a baseball cap that bore a striking resemblance to the one that Voodoo currently wore.

Voodoo: I take it I gave you that hat?

Magick: That's right! I never take it off!

April: Ew...

Ford: How can you stand to be so dirty!?

Magick: There's not much choice! The machines control the world! We can only wash in the lakes and rivers-

Fred: Like a lolita nudist beach!?

Magick: -and they're crowded with... lots of people. So I just don't bother! ^_^

Ford: I thought there was a... smell...

Riki: Actually I think that just one of those rabbits turning into charcoal...

Ford: Gah!

Whilst Ford attempted to rescue the rest of his tea, avoiding setting fire to his loose robes as he hovered dangerously over the camp-fire, the rest of the group got to learning of this horrific future...

Riki: I guess I don't get to kill Gebohq then?

Magick: Nope!

April: So, are we like resistance fighters or something?

Magick: Exactly! Just last week Soriel went off to fight a whole horde of machines all alone!

Soriel: WHAT!? I don't get to kill humans?

Magick: Uh... no...

Soriel: But... What about gushing blood? Do the machines gush blood?

Magick: Well... they might have oil...

Soriel: Does it gush?

Magick: I guess...

Soriel: Okay fine, I'll join up!

Riki: Might be getting a bit ahead of yourself there, Soriel-

Soriel: SILENCE WOMAN!

Magick: He's a woman!?

Riki: Quiet ya litt- Wait. You don't know me? You don't recognise me?

Sugerless: Uh oh...

Riki: What happens to me in the future? My name's Rick Johnson.

Magick: Hmmm... I think you might have been toasted...

Riki: T-toasted?

Magick: Uh-huh. You might have been buttered though?

Riki: ... What?

Magick: Sorry! It means having your memory put into a machine. Just some resistance-lingo, ya know? ^_^

Sugerless: Resistance lingo! Yay! ^_^

Voodoo: I wish you'd stop being so enthusiastic about everything.

Sugerless: ... ... ... Yay!

Voodoo: ...

April: But didn't you say you've come to save someone?

Magick: Yeah, I'm looking for Rachel Pi.

April: Me?

Magick: You're Gebswoq's mum?

April: Gebohq? No, I'm his girlfriend! Her eyes fluttered dreamily and the very air around her seemed to sigh with delight.

Magick: No, no, no. Gebswoq is your and Gebohq's son! He's my best friend! She announces after giggling at Rachel's mistake.

April: Rachel's eyes widened and a huge smile slowly grew upon her beautiful face. I have a baby!? With Gebohq!? YAY!

Sugerless: ... Yay!

Sugerless and Rachel proceed to ball-room dance around the fire together, happiness seeming to ebb from their very bodies and Rachel's unwavering smile of glee. Ford, meanwhile, had finally saved his monster-rabbit from being extra crispy and took a satisfied bite from it, looking almost as happy as Rachel and the excitable Sugerless.

Magick spied one of Ford's magical tomes lying upon the ground, near to her feet. It was large, old and dusty, covered in a thick layer of dust that looked almost as solid as its thick covering.

Magick: Wow! A book! These're really rare in the future! Most people burnt them for heat or used the pages as loo roll be-

Voodoo: I'm sure I remember Vin Diesel saying something about the fabric of the NeS being ruined because of Geb's love for Rachel... If that were true, how can they have a child?

Riki: Are you talking to me?

Voodoo: Don't be daft. I was talking to myself.

Riki: Oh right.

Voodoo: Magick, how old are you and Gebswoq?

Magick: I'm twelve! Gebby is a year older than me though... She sounded somewhat disappointed by this fact. Evidently age and height between children was as important to them in the future as it was in the past.

Voodoo: Twelve? Wow! Voodoo couldn't help but smile with a degree of pride at the sister she never had. It was strange, despite the senselessness of it all, Voodoo found the idea of a little sister rather appealing. All the things she could teach her, the fun they could have, how she could mould Magick into everything Voodoo had wanted to be.

Fred: Hey, look! Reckon there'll be some sister-on-sister action? Bet that older one could show the jailbait some moves!

Soriel: Gah! You sicken even me!

Fred: Bah! You're the one holding my... hilt...

Soriel: GAH! With an involuntary reaction, Soriel dropped the profane sword to the ground, where it struck the rock with a loud, resounding clatter.

With sudden determination Voodoo swiped Ford's spellbook from her sister's small hands and brought it down upon Soriel's head, who had bent down to retrieve his discarded sword. It struck with a dark thud, sending the young man to the ground with a dull groan of complaint.

Voodoo: That was for killing Sarn! Now a bash for each of the bunnies you killed!

Magick: Sarn? Sarn's not dead, sis'! He's in the future, still alive! A bit weird and creepy though...

Voodoo: Huh? He's alive?

Magick: Yep! ^_^

Sugerless: Yay! ^_^

The two dancing women had finally ceased their merriment and took up residence beside the investigative trio that now stood over the groaning Soriel.

Fred: Looks like you're in for a bit of bondage, mate! Maybe the little one'll watch?

Soriel: Si...lence... Bla...de... ow...

Riki: You ate some of those rabbits too anyway!

Voodoo: He had already started chopping them up before Ford suggested we eat them! Whatever, as long as Sarn's alive I'll let him off.

Magick: Wow. I've never seen Soriel beaten by anyone! You're the best, Voodoo! ^_^

Sugerless: The best! ^_^

b.u.m.p

Rachel/April: Hey guys did you hear that?

Voodoo: Are you just trying to play jokes on us again? I didn't hear anything.

Rachel/April: No I'm not kidding, I'm serious. I just heard something!

B.U.M.P.!

In the world of the writers...

Geb the writer: So I'm back. Did this God-awful story continue on without me.

Sem the writer: Yes?

Geb the writer: Damn.

Sem the writer: I thought you liked writing for this story -- at least moreso than any of us.

Geb the writer: I do.

Sem the writer: But you just called the story God-awful.

Geb the writer: And?

Sem the writer: You're a confusing person.

Geb the writer: It might have to do with the bitter aftertaste of my prospects not panning out with who I thought were three beautiful women interested enough in me to drag me away from this hell hole.

Sem the writer: You feeling alright, man?

Geb the writer: I will as soon as I take out my frustrations on some of the characters in the NeS!

Sem the writer: I feel sorry for Geb and Rachel right about now...

(NSN: I'm back, and hopefully working this story-arc towards a climactic close!)

There was a hot feeling all over his body. The bullets fired by the toaster had killed him, there was no doubt of that now. It was all over for Sok Munkey. But he didn't want to end in such an unceremonious way. He had to go down fighting!

His vision burned red with rage, he felt anger surging through him. His hand gripped the handle of his infamous sledge-hammer, tearing it from its straps where it was held to his body. The toaster had to be... dismantled.

Gebohq: Holy-!

Bokken Monkey: He's alive! My not-quite-a-brother!

Sarn Cadrill: Christ, he's like the Energizer bunny!

The bloodied Sok Munkey rose the sledge hammer in blind rage and charged at the T4500 toaster with complete disregard for his own safety and those around him. Swinging his hammer wildly, Sok took several hundred more bullets to the chest and slumped to the ground with a groan. His Beserker Rage had failed him when he most needed it. And he didn't get his heroic ending. What a load of bollocks...

Sarn Cadrill: So much for that...

Bokken Monkey: It's all my fault! Because he was a fellow Monkey my bad luck wore off on him!

Gebohq: Bad luck?

Bokken Monkey: Uh... no, I said sad book.

Sarn Cadrill: That doesn't even make any sense...

Bokken Monkey: Sure it does! I wanted to lend Sok this really sad book-...

Sarn Cadrill: Yeah, yeah. Okay, whatever.

The group now turn back to the incriminated toaster, whose red eyes beamed from the front of its shiny chrome body.

T4500: Any more of you *****es want some? It spoke with its mono-tonal, robotic voice.

Gebohq: Uh, no thanks.

T4500: Good.

Gebohq: I take it you're leaving now, then?

T4500: Affirmitive.

Gebohq: Where?

T4500: To kill target, Rachel Pi.

Gebohq: What? You can't!

A glow began to radiate from the small bio-mechanical browner of toast and it was evidently preparing to teleport elsewhere. Gebohq stared at the T4500 desperately, wondering if he could bash it. Sok Munkey's sacrifice told him, however, that he would die when he took no more than a few steps toward the devilish toaster. He looked from T4500 to his friends, hoping one of them had a suggestion. An idea. Anything.

Semievil: You know, theoretically, you could jump through the temporary portal the T4500 makes for itself at the precise moment it teleports?

Gebohq: What? You mean... at the exact moment? I know how this works! Even a second out and I'm dead. Early, the thing shoots me. Late and I get a limb lobbed off!

Semievil: Well, yes. That is a risk...

Sarn Cadrill: I hate you, Sem.

Semievil: Really? I suppose I should have figured that out before now...

Bokken Monkey: For such a genius, you're really stupid.

Cloned T.L.T.E.: You Americans are all stupid. Thick as Siberian snow drift.

Sarn Cadrill: Quiet you.

Gebohq: Okay, okay. I'm gonna... I'm gonna...

Sarn Cadrill: Here it comes...

Gebohq: I'll make the jump
out of this dump
before another B.U.M.P.!
and then she and I will--

--rats, I'm still rapping instead of being heroic.

The light from the toaster suddenly increased, causing each of them to shield their eyes.

Sarn Cadrill: Isn't this thing taking a conveniently long time to teleport?

Semievil: I think you should go in three seconds. Two.

Sarn Cadrill: Now, Geb! Let's go!

Semievil: One...

The light suddenly seemed to envelop the shopping mall. A high pitched screech seemed to fill the air before all went into darkness again. Slowly Semievil opened his placid eyes to find himself lying upon the ground beside the Russian clone. He slowly clambered to his knees and peered around to make a quick body count.

Bokken Monkey: Bloody hell... I think I'm blind...

Semievil: They do say too much masturb-

Bokken Monkey: I meant from the light!

Semievil: Ah, of course. It will fade, I have no doubt.

Bokken Monkey: ...

Semievil: ...

Bokken Monkey: Do you really think too much...

Semievil: No. That's just mothers trying to get their sons to focus on other things.

Bokken laughed with relief while Semievil frowned, his grey brow wrinkling. He recounted, absorbing each name of the man present before musing again. Someone was missing, besides the obvious two.

Rogue Leader: Crap, where'd Evil Vin Diesel go?

Bokken Monkey: Bugger me! If you're going to be quiet for so long, stay that way!

* * * *

Sugerless: Pat-a-cake, Pat-a-cake, Baker's man, Bake me a cake as fast as you can!

Magick Snowflakes: Yay! Again!

Voodoo watched her sister playing, bemused by the fact that she seemed more mature than the woman she was playing with. Sugerless had been outwitted during most of the contest games the pair played but the elder, at least, knew her clap hands songs.

She sighed. She wasn't sure what Magick's real relation to her was, but it wasn't a sister. Voodoo Snowflakes wasn't her real name, she couldn't even remember her real one and certainly not her parents. Whatever was happening, it left Voodoo feeling very sour. Especially because she genuinely felt something for the little girl, whoever she was.

Ford: You shouldn't think so much. Life's a breeze! Just relax.

Voodoo: Says one of my captors.

Ford: Oh, c'mon! I saved your arse really. Soriel probably would've sliced you up if I hadn't been there.

Voodoo: Yeah, whatever.

Cheshire: Kids these days. So ungrateful

Voodoo: We can't sit round here all day. Where're you planning to go next?

Ford: Dunno. We have to wait for Soriel to get back anyway...

Somewhere over the ridge was a cool lake, its sparkling clear water provided a stark contrast to everything else the world seemed to have to offer. Soriel was filling a small bottle with the precious liquid, whilst Rachel and Ricky carted more rabbit corpses that the murderous villain had slaughtered moments before.

Ricky: We should have let Voodoo kill him when we had the chance.

Rachel: Don't be silly! We're safer with him around! Those rabbits attacked us first, remember?

Ricky: I suppose... She agreed reluctantly. She eyed the blue-haired youth. Despite his discrepancies, he had kept them all safe. Even so, she felt he would be a great threat one day, whether he intended to be or not.

Rachel: Make sure you get plenty of water, Soriel! We'll be needing it for cooking! She seemed to sing her words. Ever since she found out she would be the mother of Gebohq's son, Gebswoq, Rachel had been happy as can be.

Soriel: Bah! I shall get as much water as I please, WOMAN! He proceeded to dunk his bottles deeper into the water, obeying Rachel's request.

There was a sudden blinded flash and a piercing screech, causing Rachel and Ricky to fell straight to the ground with fright. When her head cleared, Rachel turned about face, rising up to look down at the two figures wading out of the lake. Her heart suddenly felt as though it would leap from her mouth and she gasped so deeply she could barely exhale. The shock, the want, the happiness. Her Geb was coming for her. He was finally here.

Ricky: Is that Geb and Sarn? What's that?

The evil toaster sat on the beach also, its weapons poised and ready to fire. Soriel growled, Teh Uber Blade readied in his two-handed grip. There was the look of hunger in his eyes. Suddenly the T4500 fired. The bullets ripped through Soriel's arm, spraying shreads of clothing and skin. He released a howl of shocking pain and fell to his knees, his fists clenched and a look of fury on his face. Rachel knew this wouldn't be good for his rehabilitation.

T4500: That was a warning shot.

Ricky: Warning shot!? Through his arm!?

T4500: My aim was a little off...

Ricky: ...

Rachel: ...

T4500: Don't you judge me!

Gebohq: Rachel, honey! Stay back!

T4500: This is the designated target, Rachel Pi?

Rachel: Well, actually I'm April.

Gebohq: What?

T4500: I am a freaking super computer. That trick won't work on me. April Fool's. Very funny.

Rachel: Actually my name's Rachel April-Maya Pi, so you're still wrong anyway.

T4500: ...

Gebohq: Really? I didn't know you had middle names!

T4500: Enough of this! Target termination commen-

There was a sudden crackle and a spark before the toaster's eyes popped out, two overly pieces of burnt toast flew out of its back and the guns fell off. Soriel was crouched on the opposite side of the toaster that he had been on prior, a look of dark determination on his face.

T4500: Such... *crackle* a short... *whir* role... *pang* The toaster set alight and burned quietly with the lake as a fitting backdrop

Sarn Cadrill: Hey, that's the bloke that killed us!

Gebohq: But he just saved us!

Sarn Cadrill: So he's on our side now?

Soriel rose from his crouched position, a convenient gust of wind arrived to pick up the entrails of his cape, causing it to billow. With his back to the heroic duo, he stared at the lake as though transfixed.

Soriel: Far from it.

He turned slowly to face them, and took an offensive stance.

Soriel: My eyes have been reopened. I will kill you quickly.

Gebohq: Oh for crying out loud. Never a moment's peace.

Kern Saldin: Stand back. I'll deal with this.

Gebohq: Sarn?

Kern Saldin: The name's Kern Saldin.

There wasn't another word uttered between the opposing swordmasters. Sarn's alter-ego, Kern, drew his dagger and leapt at Soriel, who, in turn, leapt at Kern. The pair clashed in mid-air, the sound of the blades striking filled the area, the echoes bouncing off the barren rock-like surface. The pair came apart, landing softly back on the ground for mere moments before they leapt at one another again. Their attacks were now so fast that Rachel couldn't keep track of them, two blurs clashing against one another.

Gebohq: Rachel! Gebohq wandered past the combatants casually with a broad grin on his face, simply glad to see his beloved girlfriend again.

Rachel: Oh, Geb! You're so brave!

Ricky: What? Sarn's the one that fighting, not him!

Gebohq: So are you, Rachel. You must have been so scared. He took her in his arms, their embrace seemingly causing the entire world to fade away. Rachel could only think of him. Her Geb. The father of her child. Her future husband. She would love him forever.

Ricky: That's right. You just ignore me...

It all happened so fast. Gebohq's face was wrenched from her sight, his loving embrace suddenly gone. The cold air struck her harder than it ever had before. Tears filled her eyes. She wasn't going to die. She couldn't die. She was going to be pregnant. She was going to have a baby.

Antestarr's dagger was planted into Rachel's stomach. The Asian girl staggered back, falling against the shocked Ricky with a scared and confused whimper. She couldn't do anything but stare down at the dagger still stuck in her.

Antestarr: It is done. Water soaked his cloak from where he had landed deep in the lake. He had entered shortly after Gebohq and Sarn, knocking him further away from the toaster than would have been convenient. The bottom right corner of his cloak was torn, showing the point where the portal had closed behind him, almost severing his leg. It would have been worth it though. He had to protect the NeS at any cost.

Rachel: Wh- why?

Gebohq stared with disbelief at Rachel. He was too stunned to move. He had finally believed he was happy. He was in love and nothing could take that away from him. But now, that knife had taken away his life for the second time. It had taken his physical life once and now his reason for living.

Antestarr: The NeS spoke to me. You refused to see it! The tears in existence! Your love for Gebohq was destroying the NeS. Killing it! But now it's over. I have saved us all. If only you had listened to me in the first place, this could have been avoided.

The swordfight continued to rage behind them in a strange silence. Rachel wanted to cry. Wanted to scream. But she couldn't. She had to conserve her energy. Gebohq would save her. He would come for her. He would save her from the darkness that was beginning to cloud her vision. Ricky fell to the ground, still clutching her shaking body. She knew this rather than felt it. She felt nothing. Nothing at all.

* * * *

Geb the Writer: Want another cup, Britt?

Britt the Writer: Cheers, Geb! Nice one! Britt accepted the steaming cup of tea from Geb the Writer with a happy smile.

Ante the Writer: I'll have some of those sandwiches, Geb.

Geb the Writer: Sure thing, here ya go. Geb hands Ante the Writer a ham sandwich.

Britt the Writer: This is nice, isn't it?

Ante the Writer: Yeah. Nice to get out of the office once in a while...

Geb the Writer: Yeah. I'm just worried how things're going without us.

Ante the Writer: Just relax. Chill out. What's the worst that could happen?

Britt the Writer: Besides, we're near to the end of this saga, aren't we?

Geb the Writer: That's right. I was thinking of doing some kind of cliff-hanger.

Britt the Writer: Oooo! Is it going to be a sad ending? I like sad ending, they always make me cry...

Ante the Writer: That's a good thing?

Geb the Writer: You'll just have to wait and see...

Ante the Writer: DUN DUN DUN!

Geb the Writer: ...

Britt the Writer: ...

Ante the Writer: Not funny? Fine. Screw you both.

{{NSN: I do not rap. At all. In the slightest. So I got Geb to do that bit :p. Praise him for the funny bit of this otherwise deprssio post XD}}

Gebohq: No!

Fists clenching, Gebohq marches towards Rachel. Antestarr moves to intercept. Gebohq turns to glare at Antestarr. A group of the killer rabbits seem to fly in Antestarr's direction, and Gebohq turns his attention back to Rachel. Gritting his teeth, Gebohq grabs hold of Rachel by her shoulder with one hand and the handle of the light-dagger still piercing her stomach with his other hand. Gebohq shifts his arm hard, and at the same time a cutting action is heard. Rachel's eyes widen. The light-dagger no longer pierced her own stomach, but Gebohq's. Now it is as if Rachel was never stabbed, but instead, it was as if the light-dagger stabbed Gebohq all this time. Gebohq falls over.

Rachel: No!

Rachel then falls down to Gebohq. She waves her hand in a magician fashion, pulling the dagger out at the same time. Gebohq's own eyes widen in confusion as he has what appears to be tomato packets broken across his stomach instead of a fatal wound. Rachel cracks a weak smile.

Rachel: Fooled you.

Gebohq can't help but burst into a smile of his own. The two embrace. The rain pours down on them.

Ford: What the hell happened there? Did Geb just story-wield and his girl pulled a magical prank in return?

Voodoo: I thought Geb was forced to rap every time he did something heroic though.

Ford: Which could mean his act wasn't heroic but selfish.

Voodoo: Or that the effect has worn off.

Antestarr: *throwing the last dead rabbit away* Or that the NeS has degraded so bad that it can no longer protect itself from such atrocious turns in the story. Saving the NeS from this woman will be harder than I feared.

Gebohq squeezes Rachel close to him, shielding her with his body.

Gebohq: You stay away from her!

Antestarr: But--

Antestarr is interrupted, however, by a lightning-like crack. Everybody's attention turns towards the fight between Sarn (as Kern) and Soriel.

Sarn: What the hell is happening...? Oh, that's right, I'm not supposed to be in this body now! Wait--

Another lightning-like crack, and Sarn Cadrill flies backwards, falling onto the ground.

Sarn: Ugh...where am I?

Soriel: Get up! Actually, nevermind that.

Soriel stabs his sword towards Sarn Cadrill. Sarn yells and rolls just in time to avoid a fatal blow. Sarn crawls away as Soriel continues to try and kill him.

Sarn: Hey! Stop! What the hell are you doing?

Soriel: What's it look like?

From a small distance, the others watch Sarn act out his best imitation of Gebohq as he evades Soriel's attacks.

Voodoo: What's going on?

Antestarr: If I had to guess, I'd say his Kern personality wasn't supposed to have been here, for whatever reason. Or maybe it was, and this storm of bad posts just screwed him over. It's hard to tell.

Voodoo: No space pirate is going to lay a hand on my first mate if I have anything to say about it!

Antestarr: Aaaaand now you're Captain Sran. Oh joy.

Voodoo: STAND DOWN, SPACE PIRATE, OR I'LL BE FORCED TO FIRE ON YOU!

Soriel: What?

Fred: I think he's talking about you, Sor-ster.

Soriel: I told you not to call me that...

Voodoo: *as Capt. Sran* What a poor, delusional fool.

everyone else: o_O

Suddenly, a giant spam-ad falls from the sky onto a random part of the NeS. It read:

Quote:

Good writing. Keep up the good work.

[/SIZE] I love this site, let's go together, seize everyday, just do it! Power level up, [/SIZE] Making more money . Runing a runescape gold store , A good beginning is a half done. Ms mesos, A new Age of conan . Good luck, and enjoy it![/SIZE][/quote]

Meanwhile, relaxing in a japanese outdoor bath.

"Ah..." the lone figure exhaled, "this is the life. Nothing but smooth sailing from here on out. Forget fighting zombies, overthrowing dictatorships and wooing princesses. The only thing that would make this better would be a dozen innocent girls to share this bath with."

He leaned back and stared up at the sky. The sun was shining, the breeze blew gently, and the giant plothole in the sky hung luminously above the trees. "Ah... what a luminous plotho.... wait since when are plotholes luminious... oh well."

He closed his eyes as he continued to soak in the water's heat, slowly drifting off to...

"WAIT?! Awww crud... giant plotholes in the sky are never any g...."

His sentenced stopped short the moment when a dozen innocent female high explosive bombs fell from the plothole and into the bath. Moments later, our lone figure was now on a bomb-powered flying bath water through the skies.

Voodoosnowflakes, currently acting as Captain Sran Capdill, prepares to fight Soriel.

Soriel: I'll--

The rest of Soriel's words are not heard, however, because at that moment, a lightning bolt pierces the ground and sky closeby, and the following thunder deafens the scene. The rain begins to pour down quite heavy now.

Ford: The storm is picking up! We should find shelter!

Antestarr: This isn't a normal storm -- a really bad post is coming our way! EVERYBODY BRACE THEMS--

More lightning and thunder literally split the scene, however. The rain and lightning interferes like static on--television scre--

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Scene: killer rabbit dimension

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Scene: mall

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Scene: Hero Force Hall

The Patriot and the rest of Hero Force One call out a mandatory draft for all professional heroes. The Globalists (Illuminati-type conspiracy theorist wet dream) have orchestrated the rise of terrorist threats from the Trans-Terra-Terrorists (i.e. generic sci-fi/fantasy epic threat poorly parodying the "War on Terror" that the Bush Administration is so well known for). Hero Force One now needs as many pawns able-bodied professional heroes as it can to continue this increasing threat on the world.

Sarn Cadrill, being a professional hero, is therefore drafted. Gebohq, having had his professional hero license suspended, is not drafted.

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...the bad post begins to die down some, though the thunderstorm continues on strong.

Rachel: *to Geb* Where are we?

Semievil: And why the hell am I here?

Perhaps I can help. The following are in a poorly-built, poorly-lit shack: Gebohq, Rachel, Antestarr, Soriel, Ford, Voodoosnowflakes, Semievil, and a man none of the others are able to identify, at least at the moment. The shack has a brown couch and a simple chair, making the already small space even smaller. It is impossible to tell what is beyond the couple windows or the (currently closed) door, as it is both dark and raining heavily outside.

Rachel: Geb, I'm scared.

Gebohq: I am too.

The two sit down on the couch, holding each other.

Gebohq: Don't worry, my love, I'll fix this problem.

Antestarr: No, I don't think you will.

(NSN: I used the story-arc to my lazy advantage here. Sarn, and probably his alter-ego Capt. Sran Capdill, have been written out because his real-life writer just joined the Navy. I tried to write the end of this scene to focus more on some dialogue to deal with Geb and Rachel, but if that doesn't work, just use the story-arc's advantage to mess around until you all find something that works. I introduced the unidentifiable guy to possibly be the new guy, if delrune wishes, or it could just be someone else. If there aren't characters in this scene you want in the scene, just have them walk in from outside or whatever. The only thing I got going is that the rest of this story-arc will have bad posts, and eventually the ruin/end of NeS, unless Geb and Rachel somehow stop their stable, loving relationship.)

Meanwhile (NES post count: something that involves advance mathematic and a squirrel), outside amongst the storm, a lone figure walks across the grassy knolls and beneath the sycamore trees, cloaked solely in a damp, wet, and obnoxiously skimpy pink-polka-dotted towel. And after a quick gasp of air by myself, due to run on sentences of lengthy proportions, that really shouldn't be nearly so long, or perhaps broken into smaller senten...

"Dang it... I think my personal narrator just died from lack of breathing. I really need to hire a new writer to write my lengthy narrations. Aww drats... I guess I'll have to self narrate now." Takes a moment to ponder.

"Alright... I guess I'm walking under the trees, in the rain, back to my house... Umm... its um... well, raining, but I already said that. Dang it, why did he have to insist on memorizing the script and then burning it as a sacrifice. Screw this, I'm just going to slide my key into the lock and open the door to my rundown, mediocre shack."

Meanwhile (NES post count: same as last plus 1.532). "Wait... how do I know the post count when I just started here? Bah.... forget this... I'm going to hire myself a new narrator now before I go crazy from self narration."

-----------Several hours later--------------

Meanwhile (post count: pi transformed), the lone figures finely returns to his hovel and opens the door to find his shack to be filled with those aforementioned in the previous post. Why such people had invaded his home, he was unsure, but with a perpl...

"Alright... I think they get it. There are strangers in my shack and I don't know why. Jeesh... why can't I find a decent narrator." Looking around at all the people, particularly the two who seemed to be ready to make out on his brown couch. "Ok... who are you people, why are you in my home, and why did you bring a plot hole dressed as an unidentifiable man with you?"

Elsewhere, TLTE stumbles into an adamantly generic fast food outlet. He staggers to the front of the queue, rubbing his arms which are causing him a great deal of pain.

Fast Food Service Technician: Can I take your order?

TLTE: Yes, I'd like to...KILL EVERYONE...

TLTE's limbs elongate into nightmarish claws, causing the patrons of the store to freak out and obnoxiously fight over each other to leave via the single entry point. The Fast Food Service Technician, a staunch veteran in a demanding and unrewarding industry, holds his ground.

Fast Food Service Technician: I'm afraid that isn't on the menu, sir.

TLTE: No, no...I don't...I want...a job.

His limbs normalise.

Fast Food Service Technician: We don't have any open positions at the moment, sir.

The Last True Evil looks behind him to see if the technician was talking to someone else, then turns his attention back to him.

TLTE: You...don't value your life much, do you?

technician: Take a guess.

TLTE: I see. Most jobs, like this one I'd imagine, punish their employees for unauthorized leave of absences. The paperwork they could file on you would be immense. You know that "unauthorized leave of absence" includes dying on the job, right?

The Last True Evil pulls out an AK-47.

TLTE: Death is hardly an escape from life these days. I should know -- I've died a few times myself. So about my job...

The technician looks at The Last True Evil, then his AK-47, and sighs.

technician: ...I'll see what I can do, sir. Please fill out this application form.

TLTE: I think I'll leave that to you.

technician: The law requires you to fill it out yourself, sir.

TLTE: But... I have a disability. A disability that prevents me from doing so myself.

The technician raises his eyebrow. The Last True Evil presents his arms, and on cue, they begin to deform. A little mouth even forms on one and growls.

technician: ...right. I'll fill out your disability form then as well.

The Last True Evil's arms normalize again. The technician cries softly and dies a little inside.