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Thread: The Never-ending Story Thread

  1. #801
    Mopping Up Since 2000
    *In the Half-Life realm, G-man finds himself cornered by a very hungry Morris the Cat, in a suddenly very clastrophobic Subway car*

    G-Man: Go ahead, little kitty! Attack me! Tear me into little itsy-bitty bite-sized shreds!

    *Not wanting to be bossed around by a human, Morris ignores G-man and walks off to the corner.*

    G-man: So those phsychology classes were worth it.

    *Suddenly, the portal behind G-man shifts, and Otter comes through it.*

    Otter: What am I supposed to do again?

    G-man: Well, what do you think! There's one last puzzle, one last boss, one last final fight. Then it remains to see whether Good or Evil will triumph. Whether you will be victorius... or crushed, like the little insignificant bug you are.

    Otter: You have a talent for the dramatic, you know that?

    G-man: Thank you. That's why I was hired.

    Otter: And thank you, for the advice. I was tempted to use the walkthrough.

    G-Man: No. You don't want to do that. Sacrificing your moral code just to...

    Otter: Yeah, yeah. But I never did get your name.

    G-man: If I told you... I'd have to kill you.

    Otter: Well, that would be pointless, wouldn't it. Cuz I just Quicksaved a couple of seconds ago.

    G-man: Right. Well, since you are uninitiated, you'll just have to be satisfied with calling me... G-man.

    Otter: Hey, yo, G-man, wassup. How da funk down in the ghetto?

    G-man: No, G-man isn't slang. It stands for government man.

    Otter: Oh, so you're a postal worker.

    G-man: Not exactly... By the way, do you know anything about that Cat.

    *G-man points to Morris, who is tossing a Head-Crab up and down like Catnip.*

    Otter: Oh. That cat.

    *Otter, feeling safer with the aliens, dives back in the portal. The sound startles Morris, and he turns around and hisses at G-man.*

    G-man: Now... kitty... good kitty... want me to pet you?

    *Morris lunges. G-man's scream can be heard all the way on Level 1.*
    *In the writers realm...*

    Bob the Writer: Wahoo! Nes post #800!

    *Will Otter survive the final battle? Will our heroes survive the Spooky Taco? Will Maybe the Writer survive her game of UNO? Will NES survive another 800 posts?
    Can you tell that Janitor Bob the Writer hasn't ever played Half-life?
    Despite this, see even more ignorant posts in the dark, on upcoming episodes of THE NEVERENDING STORY!*

    May the Windex be with you
    -Janitor Jack (Salk Wars)
    "Your entire base belongs to us."
    "It would be highly appreciated if someone would set the bomb up for us"
    "Launch all of our ships, christened 'Zigs', to insure that justice will be achieved swiftly and powerfully."

  2. #802
    Whoo!!! The story can buy beer! errr... I mean.... right.

    The early bird may get the worm-
    but it's the second mouse who gets the cheeze.

    Omnia quae specto dominavi, et tantam magnus sum, ut non specto!
    In Soviet ISB, NeS writes YOU!

  3. #803
    In the realm of the interactive storyboard....

    NES: Whoot! I can buy beer!

    ST: Oh yeah? Well... I can... uh... vote or something!

    OWS(4 year old voice): What's beer?

    NES: That sounds like a question for your parents little post.

    OWS: What are parents?

    But the question came too late, for NES was allready gone. A few dramatic minutes of driving to fast-paced music later, NES arrived at the liquor store, and bought 5 packs of beer. They were gone by the time NES got back. Kids, don't try that at home, or for that matter, anywhere.

    NES: Hey, what's this in the glove compartment... page 3? or is that a 4? Ares clone? Repent? Sign from above? Bernard to the rescue? *gasp* they have to know!

    With that, NES stands tall on top of it's heavily duct-taped car and begins it's long ministry to the people. At first, the crowd is small, probably because NES is too drunk to fulfil an entire sentence, but soon the crowd grows large enough to tip over the car to make it shut up. But there is one who takes the message to heart- the noble poster Gebohq.

    Poster Geb: Follow The Pidgeon! Bow down before Bernard! It is the only way to be saved from the terrors of Morris, the Dark One!

    And thus began Nestianity- the world's foremost religion today.

    The early bird may get the worm-
    but it's the second mouse who gets the cheeze.

    Omnia quae specto dominavi, et tantam magnus sum, ut non specto!
    In Soviet ISB, NeS writes YOU!

  4. #804
    (NSP: Thanks Sem for doing the whole "NeS as a religion" bit that I fergot to do on page 20. For those who were slow to comprehend (such as myself), ST was the Spooky Taco thread, and OWS was one-worder story. Anywhos, I shall continue)

    In a snifty cutscene, Poster Geb knocks on the door to the Massassi Offices, where the Neverending Story writers "work". The door opens slightly, as only Geb the writer's eye can be seen clearly through the crack.

    GTW: Whaddayawant?

    Poster Geb: I've come to tell you to save yourself now and follow the ways of--

    GTW: I told you guys, we aren't interested! Now scat, you Jehovah witness you.

    And Geb the writer promptly slams the door shut. A few moments later, Maybe the writer opens it again, with Poster Geb still standing there stupidfied.

    MTW: Don't mind him, I set him straight. *speaking to GTW* You have better manners than that, don't you?

    Shuddering in a defensive position in the corner of the room, Geb the writer nods his head.

    MTW: Come in, come in. Tell me, what is your name?

    Poster Geb: Gebohq.

    GTW: Come again?

    Poster Geb: Gebohq.

    GTW: Gebohq?

    Poster Geb: Gebohq.

    GTW: Riiiight.

    MTW: So what did you want to say now, er, Geb?

    GTW: Nothing.

    MTW: Not you! Him.

    LT evil the writer: Hey Geb...

    Both Gebs: Yes?

    MTW: This is going to get real confusing. You *points to poster Geb* What did you want?

    Poster Geb: I have come as a disciple of Nesianity to tell you all the glory of NeS and Benard the cyber-pigeon.

    STW: Why does all that sound rather familiar?

    Then, poster Geb went into a long monologue about the glories of NeS, his life, and his message. All the toehr writers soon gather around Poster Geb to listen to his message.

    Poster Geb: you see, that's why it is best for everyone. And when you join, money will be of no importance. It will be used to do things such as raising your chances to get into the afterlife.

    GTW: Er...hate to break it to you, but we made up basically everything you told us. And we inherantly believe in most of it anyways, so there's no use in joining.

    Cooked: And what's that? *points to somthing that looks like a lie detator*

    Poster Geb: It absolves you of your sins.

    P_MTW: How?

    Poster Geb: Er...I can't tell you. Not until you give as much money as you can to the cause of Nesianity.

    BTW: That looks a lot like Scientology. It even has the ARC triangle, escept you have here "Coke, No-Doz, and Coffee". This doesn't sound much like a new--

    Poster Geb: It is the perfect, and most original might I add, religion!

    ATW: Look, you're a nice guy and all, but I don't think any of us are interested. And besides, how can there be a guy who cliams to be the same thing as a story we write?

    Poster Geb: Pagans! Heathans! All of you! You're all followers of the Dark one, Morris! You will all turn!

    Randy the writer: Err...

    But it was too late, as Poster Geb threw a gas can to the ground. Mere short moments later, all the writers in the room were passed out on the floor. Poster Geb then took the opportunity to waltz over to teh computer, where our hapless heroes were trapped inside a first-person shotter, and began to edit...
    In Ares' office, Mase and Otter the writers stand face-to-face with none other than the real Ares, god of war and C.E.O. of the Neverending Story and all its subsidiaries.

    Ares: So...did you want something?

    MTW: Wha?

    Ares: You both are just standing there, like you're waiting for something. And it's kind of annoying me. So if you don't mind, I'd like to get back to what I was doing. Alone

    MTW: Well now...--OOF! *As the Otter jabs him in the stomach*

    OTW: So do you even want to know about the evil UGO pirates that--

    Ares: I can take care of it. Now go back and write. Keep us a monopoly on the Interactive Story Board panel.

    OTW: Yes then, er...sir.

    MTW: *as tehy walk out of earshot of Ares* Man, that was cool. I wa ssure he'd seriously kill us or something.

    OTW: Seriously kill us? Er, nevermind. Let's just get back to the others.

    As the two left the building that Ares was in, to leave in their Office car (which happened to be a Dodge Spirit), they made a dent in Ares' Dodge Viper. Fearing for their own lives if Ares ever found out, they hit the gas pedal hard and drove as fast as they could, away from Ares.
    In the Gaming Realm, our heroes find themselves on the loosing side as they try in vain to fight the mighty Spooky Taco.

    Sem: Where are the writers when we need them?

    Phantom: (in French accent) And vhere es za Geb et Otter, Ei wonder?

    As on cue, naturally, Geb and Rob X seem to fall from the sky. Gebohq ended up landing in the Crow's Nest, where Geb awoke from the shock of falling. Witnessing the battle outside the Nest's window, he began to try and devise a plan, being the natural leader-type he is.

    Rob X ended up falling right on top of the Spooky Taco, and continued to sleep.

    The Spooky Taco was temporarily distracted at having someone falling on top of it, and in that moment of distraction, theOtter entered into the CyberArena tm, with an army of alien grunts, now mobile, but armed with duct-tape. On theOtter's shoulder was perched Benard the cyber-pigeon.

    The other heros couldn't help noticing that theOtter looked somehow possessed, with his eyes and hair glowing white. They also couldn't help wondering why they considered themselves heroes, seeing how in almost every situation they themselves were saving their own lives.

    Otter: We shall smite the evil one who follows the ways of Morris, and Nesianity will reign!

    Randy: Er...

    Janitor Bob: I'm getting a funny feeling we don't want to know.

    Will Geb devise a plan to stop the Spooky Taco, or will theOtter and his army be able to do the job? What does Poster Geb have in plan for our heroes? Are there other posters out there who are followers of Nesianity? Will Mase and Otter the writer be able to revive the other writers and claim their story back? Will Ares take his vengance on the writers if he ever finds out who damaged his car? Find out, on the Neverending Story, now available in an easy-to-learn, hard-to-master religion.


    [This message has been edited by Gebohq (edited June 30, 2001).]
    The Plothole: a home for amateur, inclusive, collaborative stories

  5. #805
    Mopping Up Since 2000
    (Ooc: Wahoo! Does this mean that we can post this stuff on the Massassi Debates on religion now, then call people intolerant if they don't agree with us?)

    *In the CyberArena (TM), the Spooky Taco d00d continues to blast hundreds of large orbs of Force Destruction at the heroes and the alien grunts, who are running around waving their arms up in the air like citizens, occasionally taking a futile shot at the Taco*

    Otter: And the fire of hell DID descend upon the heathen masses!

    *Geb, up in the Crows nest continues to try to think of a plan to save the day, that doesn't necessarily involve any action on his part. In the meantime he cheers the other heroes on.*

    Geb: Give me an N!
    Give me an E!
    Give me an S!

    *Rahn announces the ongoing battle with his typical dramatic pessimism. That is, until, theOtter pushes him aside and grabs the microphone*

    Otter: But lo, the swarm of rubber duckies DID come down, and DID sweep the land like angry locusts...

    Spooky Taco: w00t! TEH H@x0rz SI r0x0rz!

    Janitor Bob: What language is he speaking?

    Cooked: I have no Idea. It's not English that's for sure.

    Phantom (In whiny kid voice): Come on, Mr. Waiter. Gimme my M-16. Come on!

    Cooked: All in due time. First you must fill out the required paperwork.

    Phantom: Awww.

    Bob: I still can't figure out what language the Taco's speaking.

    *Suddenly a green plated protocol droid materializes out of thin air, for no other apparent reason than conveniance.*

    Droid: Hello, I am 13-37, Human-Hacker relations.

    *Krig takes a swipe at the Taco with his gleaming razor sharp axe. The axe richochets off the Taco's hard shell. The Taco blasts Krig with multiple bolts of Force Destruction, causing Krig to fly back and hit his head on the Popcorn Stand 3DO.*


    Bob: What the heck is he saying?

    13-37: It is a hackers way of saying: Ha Ha, sir.

    *the Otter continues his speech*

    Otter: And then Losien thus DID offer up thee cheese and thy crackers unto thee...

    *Janitor Bob looks at 13-37 increduolously.*

    Bob (seething): The taco's a hacker.

    13-37: Why yes, sir.

    Bob: A hacker...

    13-37: That's right.

    Bob (with foam visibly dripping out of his mouth): I HATE hackers...

    *Bob runs up to the Taco, screaming, waving his pushbroom, and dives into it. He starts bashing it from the inside. Slowly, the Taco's health meter starts to go down.*

    Sem: I've just GOT to save the world. Again.

    *Sem lifts his voice up to the heavens. He dramatically cries out*


    *nothing happens*

    Spooky Taco: ROTFLMAO! j00 c@nt 0d d@t! /me h@5 5p@(3s @ft@r mi n@/\/\3!

    13-37: He said: Ha! You can't do that! I have spaces after my name!

    Sem: Confounded! Guess we're going to have to whine for help. Again. OH GREAT WRITERS UP ABOVE. WE PLEAD FOR YOUR GUIDANCE AND HELP. YOU MUST DOWNLOAD HACKER BOOTER!

    *In the realm o' the writers*

    Sem the writer: Ugh...

    Bob the Writer: *groan*

    Geb the Writer: *puke*

    Poster Geb: Voices. I hear voices. It must come from somewhere. They... they wan't me... to download Hacker Booter.

    *Will Poster Geb be able to Download Hacker Booter in time? Or will Geb the hero have to save the other heroes by himself? Or will Geb the Writer wake up to help them?
    See next time on the Never Ending Story. Starring: Geb, Geb, and Geb (sounds like an insurance company)

    May the Windex be with you
    -Janitor Jack (Salk Wars)
    "Your entire base belongs to us."
    "It would be highly appreciated if someone would set the bomb up for us"
    "Launch all of our ships, christened 'Zigs', to insure that justice will be achieved swiftly and powerfully."

  6. #806
    Meanwhile, Losien the writer is without her own way back to the Massassi Forums offices, and proceeds to attept to hitchhike. Almost immediately after first trying, a Mac truck pulls up, with a big, burly, with a obvious "feeling-alone-tonight-look" on his face at teh driver's seat, winking at Losien and offering her a ride...

    Can the writers be any more non-subtle? Find out, as you feverishly scroll down to the next post of NeS, to realize that it isn't there and/or that you could be doing almost anything more productive with your life right now...

    The Plothole: a home for amateur, inclusive, collaborative stories

  7. #807
    Mopping Up Since 2000
    *In an attempt to deflect the wrath of the charging Spooky Taco, and cowering in literary apathy, Janitor Bob hurls the NeverEnding Story Thread back into the eyes of the public, at the top of the Interactive Story Board*

    May the Windex be with you
    -Janitor Jack (Salk Wars)
    "Your entire base belongs to us."
    "It would be highly appreciated if someone would set the bomb up for us"
    "Launch all of our ships, christened 'Zigs', to insure that justice will be achieved swiftly and powerfully."

  8. #808
    (NSP: attempt to get the NES thread at the top of the Interactive Story Board...I decided I'd post this...and also to inform you all that there have been some pretty bad t-storms here lately...and the powers been going out a lot...which is one reason I haven't posted in a while. I'm sure you're all thinking..."What a lame excuse"'s true. Another reason is...well, I've been "busy" and I guess there's also a part of me *slaps myself on the hand* that has been pretty "lazy." That's usually what happens during *yawn* summer vacation., I'll try and think of something "cool" to post...and hopefully I'll have something thought up of within the next few days. Till then...I'm sorry.)
    When life hands you lemons, squeeze the juice into a squirtgun and shoot other people in the eyes.

  9. #809
    (NSP: Go Bob, go! And Los, I think you jsut summed up very well what practically all of us are thinking when thinking about NeS And Bob, how does one do those small "tm" things? I'd post but uh...I've got a rare case of the ebola virus. And I have to clean my refrigerator. And I'm the leader, I'm here to tell the rest of ya to post. Um, yeah. And stuff.)

    The Plothole: a home for amateur, inclusive, collaborative stories

  10. #810
    (NSP: ...I guess an actual STORY post would be good, eh? I'll do one then. Onward!)

    In the Massassi Offices, the incapacitated writers begin to rise from unconsciousness...

    Bob the writer: *getting up* Oiy, my legs... my back... my stomach... my throat... my nose... nose?...

    Bob the writer uses his fingers in trying to find his nose, and after a few seconds, succeeds.

    Bob the writer: Phew... where is everyone?

    Geb the writer: Trying to avoid my own puddle of puke...

    LT evil the writer: What happe--where am I--what is th--

    Geb the writer: That's what didn't agree with me when I woke up.

    LT Evil the writer: Oh joy... *hurl*

    Cooked the writer: Hey, what's the religious guy doing by your computer, Sem?

    Sem the writer: Holy mackral! He's messing with our characters! Get 'em!

    Sem the writer begins to stand up when the door behind him smacks him on the head, knocking him back into unconsciousness. From the doorway, Otter and Mase the writers rush through, closing the door behind them.

    Mase the writer: Think we lost them?

    Otter the writer: I hope so.

    Maybe the writer: Lost who?

    A loud knocking is heard on the door, and a gruff voice from behind it could be heard yelling "Open up! This is the police!"

    Mase the writer: *in a hushed voice* Quick, ya gotta hide us!

    Randy the writer: This should prove to be interesting...

    What trouble have Otter and Mase the writers gotten themselves into this time? Silly writers...oh yeah, find out next time...oh wait, I've just been told that the next two posts won't answer this question. Er...or will it? Damn, that isn't going to work, is it?

    The Plothole: a home for amateur, inclusive, collaborative stories

  11. #811
    Still within the realm of our bold writers, the beautiful Losien risks her life as she climbs into the truck with the over-weight, unattractive, horny Mac-truck driver.

    Mac (catchy, ain't it?): Make yerself comfy, miss.

    Losien the writer: Thanks...I think...

    Several moments pass as Mac continues driving down the dark highway road without a word. Mac then stretched out his arms as he yawned, letting his arm drop over Losien's shoulders (an action Mac has obviously been practicing many times). Losien keeps herself from shuddering, praying that her stop will come soon. She begins to notice that Mac was taking an exit that was labeled "Romantic Point".

    "Why are we going this way?" Losien asked. She had a pretty good idea.

    "Short cut," Mac said with as much truth in his voice as he could muster. A few minutes later, Mac parked the truck in between a couple sports cars. From outside the windshield, Losine could see teh city below where the Massassi Offices lied. She also noticed that Mac had a hard time keping still.

    "Perdy, ain't it?" Mac asked with a smile on his face. Losien nodded her head nervously. "Just like you," he added, as he began to lean towards her, with his eyes closed. Slinking lower down her seat to avoid him, Losien accidentilly gripped the emergency brake and pulled it out.

    The truck gave a lurch as it started sliding off the cliff towards the city and Massassi Offices below. Mac seemed not to notice and continued advancing towards Losien, as she herself began to reach for the door...

    Will Losien plummet to her death as the Mac Truck begins its descent down the cliffside? Will Mac find his true love? Does anybody have any real emotional attachment to Mac? Find out, right here, on the Neverending Story Thread!


    [This message has been edited by Gebohq (edited July 07, 2001).]
    The Plothole: a home for amateur, inclusive, collaborative stories

  12. #812
    Inside the Gamming Realm, Geb the Hero rummages through everything in the Crow's nest...

    Geb: Porn, porn, porn...there's nothing in this place but--PORN! That's it!

    Grabbing as much of the sticky, slutty print as he could, Geb ran towards the window that overlooked the CyberArena tm, opened the window, and shouted at the Spooky Taco.

    Geb: Hey you!

    Stopping in mid-fight, the Spooky Taco turned to face Geb, somehow looking confused.

    Geb: Yeah, you! Look what I have!

    Spooky Taco: Pr0n! |\/|U$t |-|@\/E pr0n!

    As the Spooky Taco begins to advance towards Gebohq, the sleeping Rob X slumps off of the floating hacker-taco. Janitor Bob takes notice of Rob X.

    Janitor Bob: Hey, who's that guy?

    Sem: That's Rob X. I thought I killed the bugger.

    Mase: Uh-oh...

    Out of nowhere, a mystical swirl aka plot hole appears, promptly spitting out a figure clad in black armor.

    Maybe: Is that...Dart Wader?

    Sem: Mm-hm. "For every Hero that reappears after having been officially killed, an equal and oppisite Bad Guy appears."

    Otter: Is that some official rule of the Neverending Story Thread?

    Sem: Wha-? No, I was just babbling.

    Otter: Oh.

    Dart Wader: Ha-woe! What is wong wit dis pic-a-chur?

    Will our hereos ever be able to defeat the Spooky Taco? What will they do about the mysterious appearances of Rob X and Dart Wader? Can Geb save himself from the sticky situation he's in? Can we disgust the reader with more nasty mental images by saying "sticky"? Sticky sticky sticky! Find out, in the next edition of "Hustler"--I mean, on the next post of The Neverending Story Thread!

    "When someone asks if you're a god, you say YES!" --Ghostbusters


    P.S. If Antestarr doesn't psot it himself, I hope someone will mention nesianity breaking into different sects, like the ones who worship Ares (they can call themselves "Areans", hehehe).
    The Plothole: a home for amateur, inclusive, collaborative stories

  13. #813
    Mopping Up Since 2000
    *In the writer's office, the writers stare nervously, at the two cops, both of which are holding out their badges with one hand, and holding an M-16 (from SS3) in their holster with their other hand. Despite the fact that the police were indoors, Dark sunglasses rest upon their sharp noses, sending the message: "I'm Law Enforcement, and therefore, I'm cooler than you."*

    Randy the writer: Uh... wassup?

    Bob the writer: Don't tell me that we have two MORE writers!

    Police office #1: I truly wish it was that simple for your sakes. You seem to have yourself trapped. You've been on the run for many years... but we've finally caught you.

    Geb: What the heck are you talking about?

    Police officer #1: I'm Officer Kedri, and this is my sidekick, Aglar. We are part of the elite crack Hacker/Emulator Massassian Police squad.

    Aglar: And I'm afraid one of you has been hacking.

    Bob the writer: Hacking? We couldn't hack ourselves out of wet paper bag.

    Sem the writer: Well, I could. But when did we alledgely Hack?

    Officer Kedri: Three hundred and Seventeen counts of hacking, to be exact.

    *Geb, suspiciously, crosses his arms.*

    Poster Geb: This is religious discrimination!

    Geb the writer: I agree with my namesake. Who, exactly, is the one doing all of this hacking?

    Aglar *looking at notepad*: Uh... I believe it was... the Etter... the Udder?

    Officer Kedri: The Otter. And we'll be needing him to come with us.

    Geb: Ha! That's where you've made your mistake. Otter, right now, is under the sanctuary of the God of war.

    Otter: Uh... Geb. I'm back.

    *The two policemen stumble past eachother, dive over the puke-green couch, slide on the Coffee table, and tackle and pin down theOtter. They quickly frisk him for computer cables*

    Officer Kedri: You have the right to remain DeVoiced, everything you say and/or type can and/or will be used agains-

    Otter: I swear! It wasn't me! The real hacker has the same I.P. address as me!

    Officer Kedri: Oh, sure, that's an NEW one!

    Aglar: Yeah, about as new as the ol' the Dog ate my T-1 line excuse!

    Officer Kedri: Hackers! I know your type...

    Aglar: Helvetica! 10-point font!

    Otter: Well, Jail isn't so bad, they've got plush carpets... nice room with and almost unobscured view... cable-TV

    *Kedri handcuffs Otter and drags him from the room*

    Officer Kedri: And this time, you can't use the phone!

    Otter: Dang.

    *The door slams with a thud of finality, and a siren screams away, finally quieting into nothingness*

    Maybe the Writer: So... who's up for a game of UNO?

    May the Windex be with you
    -Janitor Jack (Salk Wars)
    "Your entire base belongs to us."
    "It would be highly appreciated if someone would set the bomb up for us"
    "Launch all of our ships, christened 'Zigs', to insure that justice will be achieved swiftly and powerfully."

  14. #814
    Mopping Up Since 2000
    ooc: Geb, did you notice that on one of your last three posts, you changed into the past tense? Anyway...

    *In big Mac's Pickup truck, Losien starts to notice that Mac is starting to act kind of... funny. She reaches for the door and starts to click the release. Nothing happens*

    Losien: Great... the door... it's Jammed.

    Mac: It's not jammed, my lil' sweet Powdered donut, it just has a child-safety lock.

    *About as sauvely and subtly as a train crash, Mac scoots closer to Losien, not noticing the trucks rapid descent. Losien scoots away from Mac. Mac scoots towards Losien. Pretty soon Losien is trapped under the dashboard with Mac in the passenger seat. She feels around for the cigarrate lighter, hoping she doesn't have to resort to violence.*

    Losien (From under the dashboard): I think you're lost... maybe you should stop and ask for directions.

    *Mac's masculinity is immeadiately insulted by this suggestion. He would never dream of asking for derections. He begins to get angry, but is still trying be sauve.*

    Mac: I'll never be lost again, now that I've found you, Frosted Flake.

    Losien: Ohh... how sweet. Now get me out of here.

    *Mac seems not to notice. In fact he is oblivious of just about everything right now, including the fact that the truck is reaching terminal velocity. Losien knows that this is her chance. She grabs a lever by his seat and pulls. The seat that Mac is in springs forward, and his head impacts on the glove compartment with a crunch, knocking him unconcious. Unfortunately, for Losien, the truck was still falling, and she was trapped under the massive smelly, unconscious body of Mac. She hated it when this happened.*

    May the Windex be with you
    -Janitor Jack (Salk Wars)
    "Your entire base belongs to us."
    "It would be highly appreciated if someone would set the bomb up for us"
    "Launch all of our ships, christened 'Zigs', to insure that justice will be achieved swiftly and powerfully."

  15. #815
    I have vai of the saadoi, and three derliuge trillings.
    "Rabbits will jump farther if you throw them..."

  16. #816
    *Suddenly, Last True Evil (hereafter forever known as TLTE), who has been frozen in suspended animation since his last post, unfreezes (due to a, erm, celestial alignment of the stars) just in time to watch Big Mac's Pickup Truck head over the cliff! With reflexes honed to perfection in Mother Russia, TLTE leaps over the handrailing, attaching his rappeling rope to the guard-rail as he does so. As the events of Janitor Bob's last post unfold, TLTE rappels down, pulling himself into the cab of the pickup truck.*

    Losien: Who are you?

    *TLTE's reply is coated in a thick Russian accent.*

    TLTE: (Pulling her out of Mac's sweaty flab) There'll be time for explanations (and hopefully some sex) later! Let's go!

    *With that, he pulls her close and leaps out the cab window. The pickup truck smashes into the Massassi Offices in an actnic fireball of destruction and carnage. TLTE and Losien, still hanging from the rope, watch on.*

    Losien: Well...I don't know quite who you are, but thank you for rescuing me-

    TLTE: In Russia, we have a saying that works well here.

    Losien: Really? What's that?

    TLTE: "Gimme some sugar, baby".

    *He tries to kiss her, but her knee is faster.*

    Losien: Like I said, thanks for the rescue...

    *She drops off the rope, leaving the still-groaning TLTE to squint through his tears to see her.*

    TLTE: Where are you going?

    Losien: I've got to see if I can help anyone in the wreckage. Maybe there's some survivors...

    TLTE: Ha! (Talking into tape recorder) Wednesday, July 11, 2001. TLTE dazzles another lovestruck honey. Score 1 for Mother Russia!

    *He descends from the rope, laughing...*
    The Last True Evil - consistent nobody in the Discussion Forum since 1998

  17. #817
    Unwitting troll accomplice
    Enter the intrepid Michael MacFarlane.

    (Alright, someone clue me in. What's going on in the story right now? Give me the Cliff's Notes version.)
    If you think the waiters are rude, you should see the manager.

  18. #818
    (NSP: Cliff notes? Oh boy... Seriously, if you read this page and the last page, you'll get the basic idea. Descriptions of most of the "heroes" are on page 16. That should go for all ye new writers. And yes, I am rather disturbed why we're getting so many new writers--it's not a regular event you know And TLTE is back, yey!)

    The Plothole: a home for amateur, inclusive, collaborative stories

  19. #819
    Unwitting troll accomplice
    (Too disorienting for easy reading, but I'll try and get my character started anyway.)

    While dozing in his apartment, Michael is startled into wakefulness by the ringing of his phone.

    Michael (picking up phone): What is it? (pause) What? There's been an explosion. (pause) Oh, bleeped obscenity. I'll be right there.

    Michael runs down stairs toward his car.

    (Feel free to write me into the next bit.)

    [This message has been edited by Michael MacFarlane (edited July 10, 2001).]
    If you think the waiters are rude, you should see the manager.

  20. #820
    (Here, Michael. You're new, I'm new; we'll work together for a bit.)

    *Half an hour later, TLTE is sitting in a Massassi bar, one of the few that managed to avoid the pickup truck's explosion. Losien, ferrying injured people to and fro, ducks her head in.*

    Losien: Aren't you going to help???

    TLTE: Look, we've been through this...I am a stereotypical hero. I save beautiful women and love them. Three or four times a day. You obviously don't want this service, so I'll take my business elsewhere.

    Losien: I don't BELIEVE you! You're a LOSER!

    *She storms out.*

    TLTE: (Snorts) Chicks. Hey, barkeep!

    *The bartender waddles over to him.*

    TLTE: Help out a comrade in need, da? I'm looking for a man around here...they call him "Geb".

    *He produces a creased, dirty note.*





    Barkeep: Wait a in, "Gebohq"?

    TLTE: Da, tovarish.

    *The barkeeper, and the other dozen or so patrons, all level concealed weapons. at TLTE.*

    Barkeep: You wouldn't happen to be friends with this Gebohq now, would you?

    TLTE: And what if I am, chubby-girly-man? Da? What if I rough up your bar a bit?

    *Unbeknownst to anyone, Michael strides in, muttering to himself.*

    Michael: (muttering) Pretty bad explosion....gonna need a beer....

    *Suddenly, he looks up. Muttering another bleeped obscenity, his hands drop to his waist.*

    Barkeep: What if I rough up YOU!!!

    *The bar patrons all fire, and TLTE (and Michael, for no real reason) are in their crosshairs...*

    [This message has been edited by The Last True Evil (edited July 10, 2001).]
    The Last True Evil - consistent nobody in the Discussion Forum since 1998

  21. #821
    (NSP: Disregard this post...if it messes us anything that you guys had in mind)
    TLTE: Come on...let's get out of here!

    (Michael, upset that he couldn't have his beer, gets up. TLTE and Michael walk outside)

    Michael: Are there any other bars around here?

    TLTE: (spots Losien sitting on a bench) Shh.moves his finger to his lip motioning to be quiet as he walks towards Losien)

    Michael: (Whispering) Come on already...she's not interested in you.

    TLTE: We'll see about that.

    Losien: (Looks up just when TLTE is about to sit down) This seat is taken.

    TLTE: Oh really? By who?

    Losien: Well, it's taken.

    (In the backround, Michael trys hard to keep from laughing outloud)

    TLTE: If you don't like me, then you should just say so. (TLTE sits down, Losien moves over - away from him)

    Losien: I don't like you.

    TLTE: You know.Forrest Gump Accent ;-)) My momma always said, life is like a box of never know whatcha gonna get.

    Losien: Well..too bad all of your chocolate is melted. I suggest you get a new box.

    Michael: Oh man..that's cold.

    (Losien and TLTE look over at Michael)

    Michael: Oh...uh...sorry.

    TLTE: Anyways...I can't believe you just said that to me. I saved you from being stuck in a truck with this fat, smelly, ugly guy named Mac...and this is how you thank me.

    Losien: I did say thank you, didn't I?

    TLTE: Yeah...but that's all. You could've ended up being raped by this guy if it wasn't for me. (TLTE raises his shirt collar...acting all "macho")

    (Michael looks at his watch)

    Michael: I don't mean to interrupt...but..TLTE...can we go?

    TLTE: Hell-o? Can't you see I'm having a conversation? You can't just expect me to - -

    (Without TLTE noticing, Losien gets up and walks away)

    TLTE: (continuing) I'm finally making her realize that she wants me and I'm not giving up someone with such a great smile. Look at that.

    (He turns around and points to where Losien was sitting, only there's a stray cat in her place)

    Michael: (chuckles) OK..let's go.

    When life hands you lemons, squeeze the juice into a squirtgun and shoot other people in the eyes.

  22. #822
    Unwitting troll accomplice
    (Dang. That was just so me. Seriously.)
    If you think the waiters are rude, you should see the manager.

  23. #823
    Mopping Up Since 2000
    (ooc: Dang it, all you new writers are making me feel old. But seriously, it's great too have more writers, I got tired of simply chatting with myself. I hope that some of the other veterans will start writing again also *hint* *hint*)

    *Meanwhilest, in the Massassi Office, the writers all sit bored, passively intrigued with the peeling of the paint on the walls. Maybe the writer plays a game of UNO solitare.*

    Geb the writer: Okay. That's it. We've got to go rescue Otter.

    Maybe the writer: Why?

    Randy the Writer: Good point.

    Geb the writer: *ahem* First of all, Otter is one of the elite fraternity of NES writers, and as a part of that brotherhood, we owe it to him to rescue him, despite the fact that he hasn't actually written in about 7 pages. Secondly, I have a feeling that he was framed, considering the fact that theOtter has trouble enoough turning on the computer, much less decrypting government files or whatever. Third, if we save him, maybe he'll give us money!

    Bob the writer: Okay, I'm in.

    Geb the writer: Now's the usual part where me, as leader, assigns you all menial tasks, while keeping the most glorious job for myself.

    Maybe the writer: Wait, wait, wait... who says that you're the leader

    Geb the writer: I do.

    Maybe the writer: Why?

    Geb the writer: It's simple really. I was here first.

    Maybe *sarcastically*: Well, I'm just crushed under immense weight of your logic.

    Geb the writer: As you rightfully should be. Okay. Bob, Ante, Krig, and me, we'll go find the true hacker. He's bound to be in this very building, because of his IP address. Sem, you stay here and continue to download Hacker Booter. Were downloading at about 2.3 bytes per second right now, so an enduring attention span is a must. Masseto, I want you, to... um... go to the supermarket and get us some donuts!

    Masseto the writer: Absolutely.

    Geb the writer: Poster Geb, you go forth unto the nations...

    Poster Geb: I shalt.

    Geb the writer: While you're at it, find the new writers and explain to them the nuances of the Never Ending Story thread. Include the doctrine of Morris.

    Poster Geb: May thy locusts devour me if I fail thee!

    Geb the writer: Maybe... why don't you stay here and ... mop the floors and do the dishes!

    Maybe the writer: *grumble*... male chauvinist swine...

    *A few minutes later, Geb, Bob, Ante and Krig arrive at a dusty door in the attic of the Massassi Forums building. Crudely etched into the door with scissors are the letters ST. The door is locked, but voices can be heard inside.*

    Ante the writer: : We've got to get through this door.

    (ooc: Wow, was that bad dialogue, or what!)

    Geb the writer: Right. We need something heavy, short, and hard to use as a battering ram.

    *All eyes go to Krig. Bob and Geb pick up Krig, and rush towards the door. There is a coconut like sound as Krig impacts the door and shatters it.*

    Krig: Krig no like that.

    *Despite this, Krig seems fine. The door however, has a large hole in it. The writers step through the hole, and peer around into the foggy darkness. There they see the writers of the Spooky Taco thread... Wuss the writer... lordvader the writer... even some sort of duck-billed platypus suffering from an acute case of Hydrophobia. But at the computer console a crazed individual from the past taps at the keyboard with blinding speed and innacuarcy. His frazzeled hair matches his gaudy clothes. A luminesesent glow hangs over him softly. He turns around and looks over the writers with piercing glowing eyes. He opens his mouth and a slow stream of drool oozes out. Geb looks closely at him, squinting his eyes. He recognizes him, in horror.

    Geb the writer: No... it's you... I thought you were gone forever.

    Krig the writer: : Uh oh. Krig hate this evil man.

    Bob the writer: : Who is this guy. I've never seen him before.

    Geb the writer: : Once you do see him you never forget him. Although therapy helps.

    *Krig closes his eyes and gets into the fetal position*

    Bob the writer: Okay. But who is he!

    Geb: He's...

    Krig: He's...

    Ante: He's...

    *The hacker turns to Bob and with spittle flying out of his mouth starts to attempt to talk*

    Hacker: I AM TEH OVERGLOW!

    Bob: Overglow?


    *Oh no! The thrice-banned crazy massassian locale has returned to haunt our heroes! So he's the madman behind the Spooky Taco hacking! Can he be stopped? Will Sem download Hacker Booter in time? Will Maybe organize a mutiny against Geb? Will Masseto pick out the right type of donuts? All this and more on The Never Ending Story Thread: The Next Generation*

    (ooc: I'm hoping to have the battle with the spooky taco parallel the confrontation with Overglow, if you know what I mean.)

    May the Windex be with you
    -Janitor Jack (Salk Wars)
    "Your entire base belongs to us."
    "It would be highly appreciated if someone would set the bomb up for us"
    "Launch all of our ships, christened 'Zigs', to insure that justice will be achieved swiftly and powerfully."

  24. #824
    Unwitting troll accomplice

    Michael: That was sad, man. Just sad.

    TLTE: Are you kidding? Didn't you see me? You have no idea about women. She was clearly madly in love with me.

    Michael: Yeah, I saw you. You'd have had a better chance trying to make it with the stray cat.

    TLTE: Why you... (punches Michael)

    (Michael falls to the ground.)

    TLTE: I'll kill you right now.

    Michael: Wait! I hear voices.

    TLTE: What?

    Michael: Someone talking about doughnuts... I think it's the writers.

    TLTE: Doughnuts?

    Michael: Yeah. When you punched me, I think it jarred my brain and made me able to recieve signals from the world of the writers?

    TLTE: Well then, what are we waiting for? Let's go get some doughnuts!

    Will the voracious appetites of Michael and TLTE be satisfied by warm, delicious sugary...

    Michael: Will you get to the point already?

    ...ahem...doughnuts, or will they find themselves unable to locate the writers? Find out next time on The Neverending Story Thread

    (ooc: How'd I do?)
    If you think the waiters are rude, you should see the manager.

  25. #825
    Mopping Up Since 2000
    NSP: Heh, great post Losien. Hilarious.

    *In the bar, Mike and LT evil the writer, make to leave, as they had had their fill of beer and buffalo wings*

    Bartender: Ye won't be leaving so quickly.

    *The bartender and the other patrons take back out their guns large enough to stop small tanks*

    Michael the Writer: Oh, that's right, we've got to pay a tip.

    Bartender: Not so fast. Nobody is friends with Gebohq and lives.

    Michael the writer: Do you have a personal thing against Geb or something?

    Bartender: Yer smarter than ya look. But it always helps me too relax when I blow the snot out of one of his friends.

    LT evil the writer: Why can't you just go to a nice spa to relieve you're stress instead...

    Bartender: Ah, but where'd be the fun in that.

    Lt evil the writer: One more question, before you attempt to annihilate us. Why didn't you kill us a couple of seconds ago?

    Bartender: I didn't want to scare the lady.

    Lt evil the writer: You're so considerate.

    *The Barkeep and the other patrons cock their guns and aim at Mike and LT... and... then...*

    May the Windex be with you
    -Janitor Jack (Salk Wars)
    "Your entire base belongs to us."
    "It would be highly appreciated if someone would set the bomb up for us"
    "Launch all of our ships, christened 'Zigs', to insure that justice will be achieved swiftly and powerfully."

  26. #826
    (NSP: Michael, I really like it. :-) It's a great post. I can already tell that my posts from now on will be inferior to yet..another Massassi Member's posts...but hey..that's all right. ;-) So...keep up the "grrrrrreat" (like Tony the Tiger says) work..and things will be A-OK (or does it go ABC? I get confused)
    When life hands you lemons, squeeze the juice into a squirtgun and shoot other people in the eyes.

  27. #827
    Unwitting troll accomplice
    (And I can tell that I will be constantly getting shot at. )
    If you think the waiters are rude, you should see the manager.

  28. #828
    (NSP: Janitor Bob...why are you so nice to me? You're great and everything...I just don't understand why you take the time to tell me that something I do is good...even if it's not..)
    When life hands you lemons, squeeze the juice into a squirtgun and shoot other people in the eyes.

  29. #829
    Unwitting troll accomplice
    (But it was good, goldarnit! Don't be so hard on yourself.)
    If you think the waiters are rude, you should see the manager.

  30. #830
    (NSP: Nice to meet you Michael..;-) (Shouldn't we "meet" each other before you tell me not to be hard on myself? LOL.) OK..anyways...umm..I'm so incredibly bored, I've posted more today (though it's NSPs) than I have in a long time. I have to go to work though now..but...umm...I just wanted to say, I'm not hard on myself..I'm not.)
    When life hands you lemons, squeeze the juice into a squirtgun and shoot other people in the eyes.

  31. #831
    (NSP: Just so you both know, the writer's realm and the "heroes'" realm are two differnt places, but intertwined (this is in reference mainly to TLTE, whose character in both has already been written for the past 2 pages, but your Russian side to it really helps. Michael--so you know, with the help of this post, your "writer" character will be involved and your "hero" character will come shortly (through whatever means). yes, it can be confusing, but hoefully, you'll catch on. Everyone else managed to, hehe. Anyways, onward!)

    In the Massassi Offices for the Neverending Story Thread, Cooked and Randy the writer are left with Sem and Maybe, with nothing to do.

    Cooked the writer: So...are you gonna pay that bill?

    Randy the writer: Oh, um...suuuuure...

    Randy proceeds to walk over to a little piggy bank labeled "writer's savings for Vegas", cracks it open, and takes the change. Randy then gives it to Cooked.

    Cooked: *looking at the change, noticing much more than what was owed was there* Thanks...

    Randy: So, er...what should we do? We could either help bail out Otter, or we could catch up with Masetto and help him get donuts.

    Cooked: Hmm....
    Ten minutes later, at the local deserted supermarket...

    Cooked the writer: I say go with the chocolate ones, Masetto.

    Randy the writer: No, go with the assorted!

    Masetto the writer: I dunno, everything kind of looks sketchy...
    Meanwhile, in the local prison...

    Otter the writer: Oh, they'll come bail me out. Someday....anytime now....

    TheOtter looks warily at a burly man not unlike mac, garbed in a prison outfit, witht he name "Butch" labeled on his shirt.

    Tune in shortly, because if it's not there, the next post will be coming very soon by the same writer! Seriously!

    The Plothole: a home for amateur, inclusive, collaborative stories

  32. #832
    When we last left, Michael MacFarlane and LT Evil the writers were in a bar, just mere seconds from being shot at by the barkeeper and his associates.

    MMTW(nsp: That'd be writer-you, mick): Uh...was it something I said?

    LT evil the writer: Can't we all jsut get along?

    Barkeeper: Didn't I make myself clear? You're friends with that Geb guy, and therefore, you're goners!

    Losien the writer: Hold it right there!

    Having burst into the scene, Losien's word made everyone iin the bar turn their heads and stop whatever they were doing. A few wolf whistles oculd be heard.

    Losien the writer: Were you just about to shoot my friends here, kind barkeeper?

    Barkeeper: Oh, t-these are your friends? I wouldn't ever harm anyone who was a f-friend of such a beutiful patron such as yourself, kind madame.

    Losien the writer: And from what I've heard, I don't think you're thinking of the same Geb as these two are. My Geb comes in here with a man named Otter every happy hour and pays you well.

    Barkeeper: Oh that Geb! We like him indeed. We thought they were talking about the religious freak preaching about something called "Nesianity". Never knew it was such a common name. Put down your guns, men, and let the three of them leave.

    Everybody did as was told, and Michael and LT evil the writer walked out with Losien out of the bar.

    LT evil the writer: *after walking outside the bar* I knew it! I knew you couldn't resist my Russian charm, my lucious Losien.

    Losien the writer: Please! I saved the two of you because we writers over at the Neverending Story could use you guys. Let's get going-and KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF!

    Michael the writer snickered as Losien pushed LT evil the writer's had away. LT evil the writer promptly punched Michael in the side for snickering.
    Meanwhilst, back in the offices of the Neverending Story...

    Maybe the writer: Why am I cleaning this place up? Isn't that why we got a janitor...

    Sem the writer: Shhh! I'm trying to concentrate on searching for a hacker booter.

    Maybe the writer: Did you try using a search engine?

    Sem the writer: Ohhh, hadn't thought of that one. This may take a while, I best help out our characters a bit before searching...
    In the Gaming Realm, where our heroes battle the Spooky Taco...


    Krig: Familiar, this feels...

    Sem: We've all been...yodafied! Praise be to the writers! I think...

    Geb: Yes, wisdom I have now! For I see the life of the Spooky Taco and its like. Grow in number of posts they may, but like the dark side, its lives are short-lived.

    Otter: (still under Nesianity's influence, and yes, yodified as well) Stoop to their level NeS must not, for once down the path, forever will it dominate their desinty!

    Spooky taco: I W@|\|+ y0u12 $0uLz!

    Will their yodified states help our heroes ward off the Spooky taco while Sem the writer finds the Hacker Booter? Will our new writers be able to aid Sem the writer in time? Tune in to find out, right here on The Neverending Story Thread!


    [This message has been edited by Gebohq (edited July 11, 2001).]
    The Plothole: a home for amateur, inclusive, collaborative stories

  33. #833
    Mopping Up Since 2000
    NSP: Losien, don't dare to question my literary reviewing ablities .

    I had no alterior motives in complimenting your post, (except for possibly getting you to post more often), I just thought some parts were pretty funny. Especially that chocolate line If you really think that you aren't good, just continue writing, because practice is the best way to improve.

    Mike, good to have you join the cause, and good first post. Especially compared to my first post.

    LT evil, you finally posted! I was going to have on of the writers lock you in a closet until you started writing

    Until, I post next, which shall be pretty soon now that the new writers have swept away the dank cobwebs of writers block from the dingy corners of my brain, I say: Onward!

    Wow. That was corny.

    May the Windex be with you
    -Janitor Jack (Salk Wars)
    "Your entire base belongs to us."
    "It would be highly appreciated if someone would set the bomb up for us"
    "Launch all of our ships, christened 'Zigs', to insure that justice will be achieved swiftly and powerfully."

  34. #834
    Mopping Up Since 2000
    *In the corrugated, crowded, crud-filled cubicle of the Spooky Taco, our writers confront the enemy writers, most notably the disenfranchised entity of Overglow.*

    Overglow: U GYS SUCK! I HATE U! You SUCK!

    Bob the writer: Wow, I've only known the guy for 7 seconds and he's already annoying the heck out of me.

    Overglow: FEEL TEH RATH!

    Bob the writer: Geb, What do you say that we... "wipe this dirt spot off the linoleum floor of humanity"

    Geb the writer: I like the way you think.

    Bob the writer: Gratuitously violent. As always.
    *In the realm o' our heroes, the action is mirrored, although in much more surreal circumstances*

    Yoda Bob: Evil one this one is... hmmm. Defeat him we must.

    *Yoda Bob swings his pushbroom around and the heroes close in on the Taco.*

    Geb the writer: Ha! Powerful. Your pathetic excuse for power does not concern us! Ooh. That sounded evil.

    Spooky Taco: /\/\3 i5 b1g! j00 c@n't d3f3@t m3!

    Yoda Geb: Size matters not! Hmmm... yessss...

    *Ante the writer charges up to Overglow, vaults over Rabid Platupus and picks up Overglow by the shirt collar, lifting him into the air*

    *Yoda Ante uses his yoda-rific powers to telekenetically lift the Taco 15 feet into the air*

    *Will blah blah defeat blah blah? Will blah blah survive? Or will blah blah? More importantly, will our writers pick up Donuts high in Dietary Fiber? Blah blah on Blah Blah Story Thread*

    May the Windex be with you
    -Janitor Jack (Salk Wars)

    [This message has been edited by Janitor Bob (edited July 11, 2001).]
    "Your entire base belongs to us."
    "It would be highly appreciated if someone would set the bomb up for us"
    "Launch all of our ships, christened 'Zigs', to insure that justice will be achieved swiftly and powerfully."

  35. #835
    (Bah, no one tells me that my posts are any no one here a Russian sympathiser? Sure, Losien's post was good, because it made fun of my character and his apparent inability to make it with women! Not only is this hugely incongruent with the actual character (he's meant to be irresistable to all but the strongest feminists), now he's the extravagant black sheep of the 3-way group of Losien, Michael and TLTE, which is exactly what I didn't want. Ah well...Oh, and Losien, my character has lost interest in you, you hurt his feelings...he's a very sensitive guy Well, in other news, Losien and Michael seem to be getting along well...allow me, devious writer as I am, to twist that into an NeS style plot...)

    *TLTE, Losien and Michael are strolling down the charred remains of the Massassi offices. Somehow, the tricky Russian has put his arms around both of them, and is entertaining them with war stories.*

    TLTE: I remember one time, I was abducted by Saddam Hussein, who was planning to invade Mother there I was, stretched out on his torture rack, and suddenly Saddam appears, and throws a cauldron of steaming oil on me...

    *Losien catches Michael's eye, looking at him in that not-looking-at-him kind of way, then turns away, pretending to take rooted interest in a small rock. Michael stares, unblinking at her, then turns away, and becomes irrevocably interested in a passing piece of lint.* you know what I say to Saddam? I motion for him to come closer, and I whisper in his ear..."Spasibo, tovarish"! AHHH, HA HA HA...."Spasibo, tovarish!"

    *Michael winks at Losien. Losien turns an attractive shade of tomato-red.* then Saddam shouts, "KILL THE RUSSIAN PIG-MAN!" So his guards all grab their rifles, but at that moment, the charges I had laid at strategic locations throughout the base detonate, and I'm thrown from my restraints onto Saddam. We wrestle madly on the floor...

    *Behind TLTE's back, Michael and Losien hold hands.*

    TLTE: ...but to cut a long story short, I defeated Saddam and his evil plot, and was back in Russia for some 'quality time' with my lovely ladies...but enough about me, do you know a man called Gebohq?

    Losien: *Snapped out of her trance* Hmm? What? Ohhh...Gebohq? Sure, I, uh, know him...

    TLTE: You look a little...flustered. Is putting my arm around you too distracting for you?

    Losien: Pfft. Hardly. What I meant was, I can take you to him, if you like...

    Michael: *Dreamily* I'll come too...

    TLTE: Wonderful...take me to him...

    *TLTE and the 'secret couple' walk off into the sunset...*

    [This message has been edited by The Last True Evil (edited July 12, 2001).]
    The Last True Evil - consistent nobody in the Discussion Forum since 1998

  36. #836
    (NSP: TLTE...why didn't you just tell me that I messed everything up? You could've deleted my post and I would've had no problem with that..and we could've just pretended it wasn't ever there. I feel like the worse person here right now..I wish you would've told me...I'm really sorry...and if it means anything, at all to you, your posts are really really good...far much better than mine. It's too bad that the most important things, usually go're a great writer. :-) Just because no one compliments you...doesn't mean anything. Sometimes people compliment other people (like myself) in order to try and boost their self-confidence so they continue posting...they don't necessarily always mean it. But I do...your posts are great. And again...I'm really sorry.)
    When life hands you lemons, squeeze the juice into a squirtgun and shoot other people in the eyes.

  37. #837
    (NSP: Ahh, New writers, sorry I haven't posted sooner, I have had multiplie cunkushunz adn ma Lilst erovercing..... Anyways, welcome, Michael MacLongname [don't fight it, it's good for the story])

    The early bird may get the worm-
    but it's the second mouse who gets the cheeze.

    Omnia quae specto dominavi, et tantam magnus sum, ut non specto!
    In Soviet ISB, NeS writes YOU!

  38. #838
    (NSP: As I always say...or have been starting to say...if this post interferes with anything anyone has in mind for the story..then you may delete it...or just tell me to.)

    (Michael, Losien, and TLTE continue walking into the sunset. It's getting darker. TLTE still remains with his arms around Michael and Losien's shoulders. Michael and Losien still secretly holding hands. Michael squeezes Losien's hand and she giggles slightly.)

    TLTE: What is so funny?

    Michael: Uh..nothing.

    Losien: Yes...nothing. Although...I saw this really stupid commercial the other day...for Taco Bell. This guy...oh my's so funny..he..

    Michael: (finishing her sentence..acting like the guy on the commercial) says, "I'm just a man, just a guy, just a dude and I'm hun-gry!"

    Losien: Yes...exactly. I hate that commercial...but it's so funny.

    (Michael and Losien look at TLTE.)

    Losien: Why aren't you laughing?

    TLTE: I don't understand you guys.

    Michael: What's there to understand?

    TLTE: Michael..I can't believe you'd do this to me.

    Michael: (looking innocent) Do what?

    TLTE: Nothing.

    Losien: I have a joke. Does anyone want to hear it?

    Michael: I do!

    TLTE: You can tell Michael. I'm sure you're more attracted to him than you are to me. To tell you the truth. I'm over you. I don't go for people that exist only to make me feel like a piece of dirt.

    Losien: I never said that I didn't like you. I'm just..

    Michael: You like me more than him?

    Losien: Michael.giggles..not meaning to) Can you just hold on. TLTE...why do you think I hate you? I know I said some pretty shallow things...but I didn't necessarily mean them..well..all of them.

    TLTE: Apology not accepted...not yet at least. It's not that easy. I save your life, and you treat me like this...I don't have to be nice to you again. I already wasted all my energy on you.

    Losien: (sigh) I'm really sorry..if that makes you feel any better. "Don't be sad, get Glad!"

    Michael: (jumping back in the conversation) Do you like me Losien?

    Losien: Isn't it obvious?

    Michael: You do?!

    (TLTE walks away by himself, Losien follows..Michael runs to catch up with her...questioning her again about whether or not she likes him. Losien pulls something out of her purse.)

    Losien: Would you like some cheese and crackers?

    TLTE: (jokingly) What kind of loser carrys cheese and crackers in her purse?

    Losien:'re looking at her.

    TLTE: Sure. Why not?

    Losien: So...are we still friends?

    TLTE: Well, I don't like you like that anymore...and I can't guarentee that I'll always be nice to you..because of things you said...but I guess I can say I don't hate you as much.

    Losien: (jumps up and gives TLTE a hug) Thank you!

    Michael: What about me? Do you like me?

    Losien: (winks at Michael) You're great too.

    TLTE: What kind of cheese is this? Swiss cheese? I hate swiss cheese.

    Losien: Oops. Sorry. It's all I have left.

    TLTE: Well...let's not waste any more time than we already have. Let's go find Geb.

    Losien: Oh yes. Geb.

    Michael: I'm coming too, right?

    Losien: (Dreamily) Of course.

    TLTE: (shaking his head at Losien who is practically drooling over Michael) Puppy dog love makes me sick!

    Losien: (coming out of her single-minded state of being) What? Did you say something?

    TLTE: (annoyed) I said, Swiss cheese makes me sick.

    Losien: (staring at Michael) Oh.

    (The three continue walking till they get to a bus stop.)

    Losien: Well, we can keep walking...or we can wait for the bus to come..looks at her watch...that she's not really wearing) I think it'll be about 10 minutes till the next bus comes by.

    TLTE: I think we should wait for the bus.

    Michael: Yeah. Me too.

    Losien: Well..what are we going to do while we wait? We could play Candy Land...I have "travel size" Candy Land..oh wait.Losien remembers the last time she brought Candy Land into the NES and it was a big mistake)...never mind...I must've left it in my other purse.

    TLTE: We can just wait.

    Michael: Wow...I was thinking the same thing.

    Losien: Or...we can sing "99 bottles of Ocean Spray CranGrape Juice on the wall"!

    TLTE: Or not.

    Losien: we'll wait.

    (The three wait for the bus...and wait, and wait and there a bus...they sit and wonder...still waiting)

    (NSP: Another lame post. I have no idea where to go w/ this. I'm losing it..or maybe I never had it to begin with. *shrugs* hmm.)

    [This message has been edited by Losien (edited July 12, 2001).]
    When life hands you lemons, squeeze the juice into a squirtgun and shoot other people in the eyes.

  39. #839
    Mopping Up Since 2000
    (ooc: Sure, I'll compliment you TLTE, but first you have to pay me the required amount of cash, like all the other writers do.)

    *Otter the Writer sits bored at a prison cell with conditions that would be considered inhumane for laboratory rats.
    The cell is dirty enough to give Janitor Bob a heart attack. A disembodied skull with missing teeth lies next to the stone bed with nails sticking out of it. Otter's only company is Butch. He is an ugly evil fat man who by the look of his face, shaves with a weedwacker. He looks like he is about as intelligent as a waste treatment plant, but smells worse. Otter tries to be neighborly and make conversation with Butch*

    Otter: So, Butch, what do you do for a living?

    Butch: KILL...

    Otter: Oh. Heh heh. Right. Uh... I guess I could start a good friendly discussion. How do you lean pollitically... are you a Republican or a Democrat?

    Butch: KILL...

    Otter: Oh... a Libertarian! So... How bout' those Mariners? They played pretty well against the Yankee's considering...

    Butch: KILL...

    Otter: Yes, they did get beat pretty bad. I'm bored... do you wanna play a game of UNO?

    Butch: KILL...

    Otter: Okay. I didn't bring my cards anyway. Say... you look familiar. Oh! You're Butchie! The kid who used to beat me up in the third grade! The kid who tried to cheat off my tests! The kid who I got sent to Juvie because I told on him because of the... *urk*

    *Butch grabs Otter by the neck with one vise-like hand and presses him to the stone wall.*

    *Will Otters conversational skills be enough to get him out of this latest predicament? Or will he have to finally use his long lost Eastern Martial Art Skills? The only way to find out is to tune in next time to THE NEVERENDING STORY!. Or I suppose you could just ask him*

    May the Windex be with you
    -Janitor Jack (Salk Wars)
    "Your entire base belongs to us."
    "It would be highly appreciated if someone would set the bomb up for us"
    "Launch all of our ships, christened 'Zigs', to insure that justice will be achieved swiftly and powerfully."

  40. #840
    (NSP: Doesn't seem like playing games of any kind ends up working on the NES least not UNO, or Candy Land. ;-)
    When life hands you lemons, squeeze the juice into a squirtgun and shoot other people in the eyes.

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