G
Guest
Guest
[font size=1" color="#FF0000]LAST EDITED ON Mar-25-01 AT 01:57AM (GMT)[p]Arrghh...what the hell made me think I could do this thing...?
Slinky is good, too good. So far, this is what I've been able to make..
-----------------------
In the not too distant future, next Sunday AD, Dr. Clayton Forrester made history when he launched a janitor and two robots into space on the Satellite of Love.
His sinister plan was: To conduct an experiment on the mental strain that bad movies cause to the human psyche.
He bombarded the the Sattelite with horded of C- and D class movies, but ultimately, the experiment fell victim to budget cuts after ten years of syndication on two cable networks.
However, many new and enterprising mad scientists, fictional characters, and hijacked lounge rats were piqued bythe concept. Over the past five years, there have been thousands of copycat experiments in which three or more halfway sentient beings were launched into space at random and forced to watch, read, or listen to really, REALLY bad material.
And here is one of them...
%theme music>
In the not-too-distant future,
This coming Tuesday, you see
There was this boy named Bluepencil
Not so different from you or me
He worked at FIYAR Institute,
Just another guy in a green jumpsuit...
He did a great job cleaning up the place,
But his bosses really hated himmm...
So they shot him into _space_!!!!
(The mad, mad Dr. Alchitran peers into a computer printout and laughs maniacally. )
We'll send him sucky fanfics
The worst we can find (yubyub)
He'll have to sit and read them all and we'll monitor his mind (yubyub)
Now keep in mind B-pen can't control
When the fics begin or end (yubyubyubub)
Because he used those special parts
To make his robot friends;
ROBOT CASTING:
CowLord: Master of the Pasture
'Izz it in PDF?!!'
Gummert: The bubblegum sage
'Whit...pass the popcorn'
Sparks: Multicultural vacuum cleaner
'Like, cool, mon.!'
Crawler: Drain plug. No further explantion necessary.
'*lecherous grin*'
If you're wondering how B-pen eats and breathes
And other science facts (yubyub)
Then repeat to yourself
*It's just a RIFF*
You should really just relax.....
for the BOOJUM'S MYSTERY SCIENCE THEATER!
-------------------
The Sattelite of Java was a silver hawk in an immeasurably black sky. It screeched suddenly, as if in alarm over its prey..
No, actually, that ear-tearing sound came from inside the Sattelite. Gummert was wheeling after Crawler, firing bursts of paintballs, missing completely.
Bpen entered into a scence of utter chaos.
"Hey, what the heck is going o -GLOP!!"
All hostile activity stopped.
"Uh oh..", quoth Crawler.
"It was him!", Gummert cried, tossing the paintbazooka to Crawler. "Blame him! Not I!"
"Hey!"
"Gummerrtt..."
"Oh, all right, bluepen. But it wouldn't have started if Crawler kept his hands off my magazines."
"Why would he want your mags? After all, you don't keep porn, do you?"
"No. But the Guns and Ammo have magnificent cover girls. Crawler decided he was in the mood for some soft stuff."
"Well, blah!"
"Like, we got a call from Ground Zero, mon!", Sparks blared over the intercom.
"We're there!", B-pen replied. "As soon as I can get this glop of green-clo paint off me.."
"Sorry, bluepen."
"I'll go fetch the detergent.."
Later, inside the theater>>
"Arrgh...my toes still feel tingly!"
"But you're clean."
"Remind me never to take Electrostatic Baths again. *fzzt* Lok at my hair! I've got enough static electricity to wire a small town."
"Shut up, bluepen. it's starting.."
>Aftermath
Crawler: Also known as a really big hangover.
>>Part 1
B-pen: Ah...first parts...
Gummert: All journeys begin with a single step...
Crawler: Except if your a redshirt. In which case the first thing you should do is....DIE!!! Kirk! Look out! ZARK!
B-pen: Dark.
Gummert: Fanboy.
Crawler: Bite me.
>>Gone.
B-pen: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!
Bots: ???
B-pen: I bewail the lost innocence of my youth, long gone in the passage of bad anime!
Sparks: Wait..like, was that the time you were a spammer, mon?
B-pen: ....
Crawler: So you didn't have much of that in the first place.
B-pen: No.
>> Everything I lived for, strived for, gone.
Gummert: Heartless repossessor!!!
B-pen: Collateral gains tax. Never leave home without it. In fact..never even THINK of using said home in the first place.
>> And only one person is responsible.
All: Bill!!
>> She must die.
Crawler: So...Bill pulled a M. Jackson?
B-pen: Thank you for that intensely disgusting mental image, Crawler.
Crawler: It's what I'm here for. *grin*
>> These thoughts rattled around in Agent Kunshan’s head
All: BOOMSHAKALAKA!!
>>as he walked
Cowlord: (sound FX) *crshh**crrsh*chkchkchksshhh*
B-pen: Sparf!!
Crawler: Goo!
>> purposefully and confidently through the wastelands that
>>were once
B-pen: Silicon Valley.
Gummert: What happened to it, bluepen?
B-pen: Microsoft aced it in 2030
Crawler: Dark..very, very dark.
B-pen: Yes, hear the cries of programmers, forced and lashed to code in the Windows way...
Crawler: AIEEEEEE!!!
B-pen: Never to deal with cross-platform issues...never to hold of the holy grail of the run=anywhere again...
Crawler: AIEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!
B-pen: All computers needed to be replaced every two weeks..as Win2300 chewed up carefully optimized code and slowed the blazing PC down...
Crawler: AIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!
B-pen: Hear their anguished screams, their cries for Death! Anything than to look at life with this four-paned window!
Crawler: AIIEEEEEIIIIIIEEEEEEE!!!
B-pen: The tuxedoed penguin was hunted down and gutted, its mangled carcass dangling from-
Crawler: AAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!
Gummert: AAAAAAAAAAAHHH!! STOP IT! STOP IT NOW, BOTH OF YOU!!!
>> California.
B-pen: California! Once the home of yuppies, then of the generation of hope, of Linux, now but a smoking, scorched battleground...the warriors and lawyers of Microsoft came, savage and ruthless...
Gummert: BLUEPEN!!!!!!!!!!
B-pen: Heh. Okay, I'll stop. Spoilsport.
>>He had a large laser rifle strapped to his back, and a
>>sniper rifle he had personally customized gripped in his hands.
Crawler: Hey, B-pen..let's see if I got this straight. He's got a big laser rifle on his back, right?
B-pen: Right.
Crawler: And he's got another rifle in his hand, held horizontally.
B-pen: Yes.
Crawler: ....
B-pen: What?
Crawler: Phallic reference.
B-pen: CRAWLER!!
>>The harsh winds of the wasteland tried to deter him
B-pen: <wind> No, you fool! That's a cliff!!
>>but it merely washed over his power armor like so much water.
Gummert: *fzzt* wind..water...wash..water...*shpow!* ...I'm....Confused.
B-pen: No, you're Gummert. Crocker's Confused.
>> He was a tall man, with military style hair
Sparks: Like, Military style hair...is NO HAIR! Booger, mon!!
Gummert: Which begs the question..how the hell did Jordan survive!!
B-pen: Hey, he's the world's Most Valuable Player(tm). They scuttled him off first, ahead of the president.
>>and cold, sharp blue eyes.
B-pen: Cornea freezer.
CowLord: How problematic it muzt have been to turn cornerz.
Cralwer: And how painful to run into walls.
>> His features were often covered by his power armor, which he
Gummert: *pulls up technical Power Armor data* The Enclave Power Armor, when fitted, totally covers the user's features. And so..the word "often" was unecessary.
B-pen: Nitpicker...nitpicker.
Crawler: Hey, he COULD have been wearing the Power Armor around his face.
B-pen: Right. Wear. A hundred-pound Suit of Death. As a brooch. Or a bandanna....around the neck....Right.
Crawler: Could happen..
>> had customized to minimize having to remove it.
B-pen: Hehe.
Bots: (chorus) HOW THE HELL DO YOU PISS WITH THAT THING ON!!!
>> Agent Kunshan had, only weeks earlier, been a special ops
>>officer at Navarro. His job was top secret...not even the Base
>>Commander had known his true purpose, only that he was to be allowed
>>on the premises.
B-pen: In other words, he's a gofer.
>>Kunshan’s job had been to eliminate all the mutants on the
>>base when ordered. It had become obvious to the higher ups that
Gummert: He did absolutely nothing.
Crawler: He spent more time goofing off than at work.
B-pen: Which was top secret in the first place, and so he didn't..
Sparks: Like, do aything other than......
Cowlord: Abzolutely nothing.
B-pen: Oh, have we mentioned that he was a lazy, no-good bastard who didn't do anything?
>>the inhabitants of the base had lived in the
Gummert: Mud-brick houses, adorned with pretty flowers.
B-pen: Ah, we do ooze with sarcasm.
Gummert: I'm just getting into shape.
Crawler: Penthouse!!
>>irradiated land for too long, and had more than likely mutated.
B-pen: At the risk of sounding Yamu-like..radiation, in the land, clears off in sixty days or so, after main fallout.
Gummert: That's my line.
B-pen: No, that's a chrome bullbar.
Gummert: *groan* Enough with the injokes, please.
>>Kunshan was to eliminate the base once the virus was releasedjust in
>>case anyone decided that they would try to escape.
B-pen: <Kunshan> We will now put it to a poll. Who wants to escape? Put through your vote.
Crawler: I do!
Cowlod: (FX) ZARK!
Crawler: AAAAIIGHH!!
B-pen: And we have one vote! Cast your side! Your vote will decide.
Gummert: Ah, the glories of a democratic system.
>> Some one ended up doing the job for him...and that someone
>>ruined everything he held dear.
B-pen: I told him.. the blue wire goes into the red socket but does anyone listen to me? Noo...let's just ignore the guy who does nothing whatsoever!!
Crawler: My teddie! They killed Winnie the Pooh! You bastards!
>>The President had been right...
Gummert: *snort*
B-pen: *chortle*
Crawler: *snicker*
All: *falls over laughing* BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
B-pen: *gasssp* Hooboy...that was the funniest thing I've ever heard so far.
Gumert: The 'burning' Bush? Right? Rigghhhtt...
>>the inhabitants of the wastelands had mutated far too much to be
>>considered pure humans anymore.
Gummert: Actually, there is no such thing as a pure human. All of them are mutated to some degree. The things that separate you, like color of skin, or shape of one's eyes, or height, or speech patterns, these are actually mutations. Not traits.
B-pen: Nitpicker! Stop accessing your databse!!
Gummert: Feeling insecure yet, bluepen?
>>Humans were the only creatures worthy of life.
Gummert: All right then. Let's kill all the the plants, the birds in the sky, the fish and other aquatic lifeforms...hell, bacteria are alive too, so let's kill them all!
Crawler: Dark.
B-pen: This reminds me. Remember that comment in "The Matrix"? About how we aren't mammals, but viruses?
Gummert: Viruses aren't technically alive. They subsist in tangent with their hosts.
B-pen: And that's what worries me.
>>Now he was the last true human to walk the earth, and it was a
>>terrible burden.
B-pen: But that's what NPC's are for!
Gummert: Although I have access to veritibirds, cards, and I can make myself a little wagon, I'll just carry all these flamers and miniguns on my back. It's hard, it's stupid, but I'll manage.
>> He swore that the so-called ‘Chosen One’ would feel his
>>wrath.
Gummert: Idiot. Someone did your job for you, and you want harm?
B-pen: Is your database link off?
Gummert: Yes.
B-pen: Good. Open it, and see that in the Magadha Dynasty in India, and even now, the water-crossing Guild is the most powerful. Long-span bridges, although they can be built, have never been really tried. It's expensive at first..but it pays off soon. But in spite of the benefits, the people continue to use barges to cross the river. It's because no guild ever really dissolves itself.
Gummert: So you're saying that once his job was done, there was never really any need for him?
B-pen: Does that remind you of anything?
Bots: Microsoft!
B-pen: Yes, by making sure their new operating systems slow down instead of being optimized for a PC, they insure that the people continue to buy more expensive hardware.
Sparks: Like, ouch.
>> But first, he had to find her.
All: WHERE THE HELLS AM I NOW!!!
Crawler: The elven nudist colony of Linfersthane.
B-pen: Urk.
>> ***
Gummert: It's snowing!!
B-pen: It's the Fallout winter!!
Crawler: Find the hot chocolate!
>>Marcus, the mutant Sheriff of Broken Hills, leaned against his
>>house and
B-pen: Gave a muffle *aaaaawwwwkkk* as it collapsed under him.
Gummert: Marcus: the first little super-mutant. Built his house of straw. Didn't need a wolf to blow it down.
>>sighed. He was an imposing figure, standing well over 7 feet tall
>>and weighing at least a quarter ton.
Sparks: Like, may I make a "yo' momma's so fat" joke, mon?
B-pen: NO way. That would be cruel.
Crawler: His green ass so big, he had to drag it along in little red wagon.
B-pen: *groan*
>> Still in possession of the simple clothing the Master had issued to
>>his troops so long ago
B-pen: And man, do I stink.
Gummert: (to camera) What? You haven't really noticed why the super-mutant clothes were grey and black?
>> the only addition to his attire were homemade
>>shoulder pads held together with vices, and some headgear. Marcus had
>>done away with the ridiculous (in his opinion) Mohawk that most Super
>>Mutants sported.
B-pen: And that is why he now wears an afro.
Crawler: Thank you for that sickening mental image, B-pen.
B-pen: That what I'm here for..hehehe.
Gummert: Now I understand why then shot you here in the first place.
>> It had been two weeks since the destruction of the Enclave; two
>>weeks since Trill had failed to return.
Crawler: Two weeks since I had last taken a bath.
B-pen: Two weeks since I began to name and conduct conversations with the fleas jumping around me.
>> He was beginning to doubt she would.
B-pen: And I'm beginning to doubt that I'll live through this thing!
Cowlord: I've talked with IVY. She can give uz a few minutez of intermizzion, zir.
B-pen: Good. We're outta here!
All: *exits out of the theater in one neat file*
Intermission:
B-pen headed over to the cofee machine and rang up his drink. As he waited for the cofee to pur, he turned to his bots and asked, "Well, guys, what did you think?"
"I don't rightly know, bluepen.",Gummert replied. I don't have much data to judge it yet."
"It like, looks okay, mon.
"I just hope the author placed in a few steamy ones! He better have!!"
"She."
"Huh?"
The author is SlinkyAvenger. It's a girl writer."
"Hmm..Slinky, denotes stealth. Denothes cunning. Denotes snakes. Denotes sensousity. Oh yeah!! She placed goode shtuff!!"
"Damn."
"Don't worry about it, bluepen."
"But Crawler's right...most of the lemonfic writers are female. There is a chance there is going to be lime in this fic."
"Oh, crap."
"Oh, no! We've got the fic sign back!!"
Everyone piled back to the Sattelite of Java torture theater.
--------
See? Short. And not THAT funny. Help! Could someone please assist me? Add you own RIFF to the bottom of this post. Feel free to use the 'bots. Or make up some of your own. Hell, an entirely new sattelite would be cool.
http://envy.nu/bpen/soj.jpg
~cause anything less than total and utter overkill is a complete waste of time~
-it's the freakin' bluepencil!
~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^
Slinky is good, too good. So far, this is what I've been able to make..
-----------------------
In the not too distant future, next Sunday AD, Dr. Clayton Forrester made history when he launched a janitor and two robots into space on the Satellite of Love.
His sinister plan was: To conduct an experiment on the mental strain that bad movies cause to the human psyche.
He bombarded the the Sattelite with horded of C- and D class movies, but ultimately, the experiment fell victim to budget cuts after ten years of syndication on two cable networks.
However, many new and enterprising mad scientists, fictional characters, and hijacked lounge rats were piqued bythe concept. Over the past five years, there have been thousands of copycat experiments in which three or more halfway sentient beings were launched into space at random and forced to watch, read, or listen to really, REALLY bad material.
And here is one of them...
%theme music>
In the not-too-distant future,
This coming Tuesday, you see
There was this boy named Bluepencil
Not so different from you or me
He worked at FIYAR Institute,
Just another guy in a green jumpsuit...
He did a great job cleaning up the place,
But his bosses really hated himmm...
So they shot him into _space_!!!!
(The mad, mad Dr. Alchitran peers into a computer printout and laughs maniacally. )
We'll send him sucky fanfics
The worst we can find (yubyub)
He'll have to sit and read them all and we'll monitor his mind (yubyub)
Now keep in mind B-pen can't control
When the fics begin or end (yubyubyubub)
Because he used those special parts
To make his robot friends;
ROBOT CASTING:
CowLord: Master of the Pasture
'Izz it in PDF?!!'
Gummert: The bubblegum sage
'Whit...pass the popcorn'
Sparks: Multicultural vacuum cleaner
'Like, cool, mon.!'
Crawler: Drain plug. No further explantion necessary.
'*lecherous grin*'
If you're wondering how B-pen eats and breathes
And other science facts (yubyub)
Then repeat to yourself
*It's just a RIFF*
You should really just relax.....
for the BOOJUM'S MYSTERY SCIENCE THEATER!
-------------------
The Sattelite of Java was a silver hawk in an immeasurably black sky. It screeched suddenly, as if in alarm over its prey..
No, actually, that ear-tearing sound came from inside the Sattelite. Gummert was wheeling after Crawler, firing bursts of paintballs, missing completely.
Bpen entered into a scence of utter chaos.
"Hey, what the heck is going o -GLOP!!"
All hostile activity stopped.
"Uh oh..", quoth Crawler.
"It was him!", Gummert cried, tossing the paintbazooka to Crawler. "Blame him! Not I!"
"Hey!"
"Gummerrtt..."
"Oh, all right, bluepen. But it wouldn't have started if Crawler kept his hands off my magazines."
"Why would he want your mags? After all, you don't keep porn, do you?"
"No. But the Guns and Ammo have magnificent cover girls. Crawler decided he was in the mood for some soft stuff."
"Well, blah!"
"Like, we got a call from Ground Zero, mon!", Sparks blared over the intercom.
"We're there!", B-pen replied. "As soon as I can get this glop of green-clo paint off me.."
"Sorry, bluepen."
"I'll go fetch the detergent.."
Later, inside the theater>>
"Arrgh...my toes still feel tingly!"
"But you're clean."
"Remind me never to take Electrostatic Baths again. *fzzt* Lok at my hair! I've got enough static electricity to wire a small town."
"Shut up, bluepen. it's starting.."
>Aftermath
Crawler: Also known as a really big hangover.
>>Part 1
B-pen: Ah...first parts...
Gummert: All journeys begin with a single step...
Crawler: Except if your a redshirt. In which case the first thing you should do is....DIE!!! Kirk! Look out! ZARK!
B-pen: Dark.
Gummert: Fanboy.
Crawler: Bite me.
>>Gone.
B-pen: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!
Bots: ???
B-pen: I bewail the lost innocence of my youth, long gone in the passage of bad anime!
Sparks: Wait..like, was that the time you were a spammer, mon?
B-pen: ....
Crawler: So you didn't have much of that in the first place.
B-pen: No.
>> Everything I lived for, strived for, gone.
Gummert: Heartless repossessor!!!
B-pen: Collateral gains tax. Never leave home without it. In fact..never even THINK of using said home in the first place.
>> And only one person is responsible.
All: Bill!!
>> She must die.
Crawler: So...Bill pulled a M. Jackson?
B-pen: Thank you for that intensely disgusting mental image, Crawler.
Crawler: It's what I'm here for. *grin*
>> These thoughts rattled around in Agent Kunshan’s head
All: BOOMSHAKALAKA!!
>>as he walked
Cowlord: (sound FX) *crshh**crrsh*chkchkchksshhh*
B-pen: Sparf!!
Crawler: Goo!
>> purposefully and confidently through the wastelands that
>>were once
B-pen: Silicon Valley.
Gummert: What happened to it, bluepen?
B-pen: Microsoft aced it in 2030
Crawler: Dark..very, very dark.
B-pen: Yes, hear the cries of programmers, forced and lashed to code in the Windows way...
Crawler: AIEEEEEE!!!
B-pen: Never to deal with cross-platform issues...never to hold of the holy grail of the run=anywhere again...
Crawler: AIEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!
B-pen: All computers needed to be replaced every two weeks..as Win2300 chewed up carefully optimized code and slowed the blazing PC down...
Crawler: AIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!
B-pen: Hear their anguished screams, their cries for Death! Anything than to look at life with this four-paned window!
Crawler: AIIEEEEEIIIIIIEEEEEEE!!!
B-pen: The tuxedoed penguin was hunted down and gutted, its mangled carcass dangling from-
Crawler: AAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!
Gummert: AAAAAAAAAAAHHH!! STOP IT! STOP IT NOW, BOTH OF YOU!!!
>> California.
B-pen: California! Once the home of yuppies, then of the generation of hope, of Linux, now but a smoking, scorched battleground...the warriors and lawyers of Microsoft came, savage and ruthless...
Gummert: BLUEPEN!!!!!!!!!!
B-pen: Heh. Okay, I'll stop. Spoilsport.
>>He had a large laser rifle strapped to his back, and a
>>sniper rifle he had personally customized gripped in his hands.
Crawler: Hey, B-pen..let's see if I got this straight. He's got a big laser rifle on his back, right?
B-pen: Right.
Crawler: And he's got another rifle in his hand, held horizontally.
B-pen: Yes.
Crawler: ....
B-pen: What?
Crawler: Phallic reference.
B-pen: CRAWLER!!
>>The harsh winds of the wasteland tried to deter him
B-pen: <wind> No, you fool! That's a cliff!!
>>but it merely washed over his power armor like so much water.
Gummert: *fzzt* wind..water...wash..water...*shpow!* ...I'm....Confused.
B-pen: No, you're Gummert. Crocker's Confused.
>> He was a tall man, with military style hair
Sparks: Like, Military style hair...is NO HAIR! Booger, mon!!
Gummert: Which begs the question..how the hell did Jordan survive!!
B-pen: Hey, he's the world's Most Valuable Player(tm). They scuttled him off first, ahead of the president.
>>and cold, sharp blue eyes.
B-pen: Cornea freezer.
CowLord: How problematic it muzt have been to turn cornerz.
Cralwer: And how painful to run into walls.
>> His features were often covered by his power armor, which he
Gummert: *pulls up technical Power Armor data* The Enclave Power Armor, when fitted, totally covers the user's features. And so..the word "often" was unecessary.
B-pen: Nitpicker...nitpicker.
Crawler: Hey, he COULD have been wearing the Power Armor around his face.
B-pen: Right. Wear. A hundred-pound Suit of Death. As a brooch. Or a bandanna....around the neck....Right.
Crawler: Could happen..
>> had customized to minimize having to remove it.
B-pen: Hehe.
Bots: (chorus) HOW THE HELL DO YOU PISS WITH THAT THING ON!!!
>> Agent Kunshan had, only weeks earlier, been a special ops
>>officer at Navarro. His job was top secret...not even the Base
>>Commander had known his true purpose, only that he was to be allowed
>>on the premises.
B-pen: In other words, he's a gofer.
>>Kunshan’s job had been to eliminate all the mutants on the
>>base when ordered. It had become obvious to the higher ups that
Gummert: He did absolutely nothing.
Crawler: He spent more time goofing off than at work.
B-pen: Which was top secret in the first place, and so he didn't..
Sparks: Like, do aything other than......
Cowlord: Abzolutely nothing.
B-pen: Oh, have we mentioned that he was a lazy, no-good bastard who didn't do anything?
>>the inhabitants of the base had lived in the
Gummert: Mud-brick houses, adorned with pretty flowers.
B-pen: Ah, we do ooze with sarcasm.
Gummert: I'm just getting into shape.
Crawler: Penthouse!!
>>irradiated land for too long, and had more than likely mutated.
B-pen: At the risk of sounding Yamu-like..radiation, in the land, clears off in sixty days or so, after main fallout.
Gummert: That's my line.
B-pen: No, that's a chrome bullbar.
Gummert: *groan* Enough with the injokes, please.
>>Kunshan was to eliminate the base once the virus was releasedjust in
>>case anyone decided that they would try to escape.
B-pen: <Kunshan> We will now put it to a poll. Who wants to escape? Put through your vote.
Crawler: I do!
Cowlod: (FX) ZARK!
Crawler: AAAAIIGHH!!
B-pen: And we have one vote! Cast your side! Your vote will decide.
Gummert: Ah, the glories of a democratic system.
>> Some one ended up doing the job for him...and that someone
>>ruined everything he held dear.
B-pen: I told him.. the blue wire goes into the red socket but does anyone listen to me? Noo...let's just ignore the guy who does nothing whatsoever!!
Crawler: My teddie! They killed Winnie the Pooh! You bastards!
>>The President had been right...
Gummert: *snort*
B-pen: *chortle*
Crawler: *snicker*
All: *falls over laughing* BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
B-pen: *gasssp* Hooboy...that was the funniest thing I've ever heard so far.
Gumert: The 'burning' Bush? Right? Rigghhhtt...
>>the inhabitants of the wastelands had mutated far too much to be
>>considered pure humans anymore.
Gummert: Actually, there is no such thing as a pure human. All of them are mutated to some degree. The things that separate you, like color of skin, or shape of one's eyes, or height, or speech patterns, these are actually mutations. Not traits.
B-pen: Nitpicker! Stop accessing your databse!!
Gummert: Feeling insecure yet, bluepen?
>>Humans were the only creatures worthy of life.
Gummert: All right then. Let's kill all the the plants, the birds in the sky, the fish and other aquatic lifeforms...hell, bacteria are alive too, so let's kill them all!
Crawler: Dark.
B-pen: This reminds me. Remember that comment in "The Matrix"? About how we aren't mammals, but viruses?
Gummert: Viruses aren't technically alive. They subsist in tangent with their hosts.
B-pen: And that's what worries me.
>>Now he was the last true human to walk the earth, and it was a
>>terrible burden.
B-pen: But that's what NPC's are for!
Gummert: Although I have access to veritibirds, cards, and I can make myself a little wagon, I'll just carry all these flamers and miniguns on my back. It's hard, it's stupid, but I'll manage.
>> He swore that the so-called ‘Chosen One’ would feel his
>>wrath.
Gummert: Idiot. Someone did your job for you, and you want harm?
B-pen: Is your database link off?
Gummert: Yes.
B-pen: Good. Open it, and see that in the Magadha Dynasty in India, and even now, the water-crossing Guild is the most powerful. Long-span bridges, although they can be built, have never been really tried. It's expensive at first..but it pays off soon. But in spite of the benefits, the people continue to use barges to cross the river. It's because no guild ever really dissolves itself.
Gummert: So you're saying that once his job was done, there was never really any need for him?
B-pen: Does that remind you of anything?
Bots: Microsoft!
B-pen: Yes, by making sure their new operating systems slow down instead of being optimized for a PC, they insure that the people continue to buy more expensive hardware.
Sparks: Like, ouch.
>> But first, he had to find her.
All: WHERE THE HELLS AM I NOW!!!
Crawler: The elven nudist colony of Linfersthane.
B-pen: Urk.
>> ***
Gummert: It's snowing!!
B-pen: It's the Fallout winter!!
Crawler: Find the hot chocolate!
>>Marcus, the mutant Sheriff of Broken Hills, leaned against his
>>house and
B-pen: Gave a muffle *aaaaawwwwkkk* as it collapsed under him.
Gummert: Marcus: the first little super-mutant. Built his house of straw. Didn't need a wolf to blow it down.
>>sighed. He was an imposing figure, standing well over 7 feet tall
>>and weighing at least a quarter ton.
Sparks: Like, may I make a "yo' momma's so fat" joke, mon?
B-pen: NO way. That would be cruel.
Crawler: His green ass so big, he had to drag it along in little red wagon.
B-pen: *groan*
>> Still in possession of the simple clothing the Master had issued to
>>his troops so long ago
B-pen: And man, do I stink.
Gummert: (to camera) What? You haven't really noticed why the super-mutant clothes were grey and black?
>> the only addition to his attire were homemade
>>shoulder pads held together with vices, and some headgear. Marcus had
>>done away with the ridiculous (in his opinion) Mohawk that most Super
>>Mutants sported.
B-pen: And that is why he now wears an afro.
Crawler: Thank you for that sickening mental image, B-pen.
B-pen: That what I'm here for..hehehe.
Gummert: Now I understand why then shot you here in the first place.
>> It had been two weeks since the destruction of the Enclave; two
>>weeks since Trill had failed to return.
Crawler: Two weeks since I had last taken a bath.
B-pen: Two weeks since I began to name and conduct conversations with the fleas jumping around me.
>> He was beginning to doubt she would.
B-pen: And I'm beginning to doubt that I'll live through this thing!
Cowlord: I've talked with IVY. She can give uz a few minutez of intermizzion, zir.
B-pen: Good. We're outta here!
All: *exits out of the theater in one neat file*
Intermission:
B-pen headed over to the cofee machine and rang up his drink. As he waited for the cofee to pur, he turned to his bots and asked, "Well, guys, what did you think?"
"I don't rightly know, bluepen.",Gummert replied. I don't have much data to judge it yet."
"It like, looks okay, mon.
"I just hope the author placed in a few steamy ones! He better have!!"
"She."
"Huh?"
The author is SlinkyAvenger. It's a girl writer."
"Hmm..Slinky, denotes stealth. Denothes cunning. Denotes snakes. Denotes sensousity. Oh yeah!! She placed goode shtuff!!"
"Damn."
"Don't worry about it, bluepen."
"But Crawler's right...most of the lemonfic writers are female. There is a chance there is going to be lime in this fic."
"Oh, crap."
"Oh, no! We've got the fic sign back!!"
Everyone piled back to the Sattelite of Java torture theater.
--------
See? Short. And not THAT funny. Help! Could someone please assist me? Add you own RIFF to the bottom of this post. Feel free to use the 'bots. Or make up some of your own. Hell, an entirely new sattelite would be cool.
http://envy.nu/bpen/soj.jpg
~cause anything less than total and utter overkill is a complete waste of time~
-it's the freakin' bluepencil!
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