G
Guest
Guest
Yeah...I know, I was supposed to be working on Part 4 of TCOTWF...but I got stuck halfway though and got to editing my old stuff..
Anyways, for those who haven't visited the Illuminati message boards...here it goes...enjoy!
Ah, it's better to read this if your browser has its text size set to "smaller" or less...
Anyways, for those who haven't visited the Illuminati message boards...here it goes...enjoy!
Ah, it's better to read this if your browser has its text size set to "smaller" or less...
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I got this idea last night. Someone rented out FIYAR for an all-nighter Counterstrike tournament. Guess who's
stuck babysitting?
And so, amid the sound of the theme song from "American Pie", blasting OBSCENELY LOUD, and cries of "Eat
this, Dickhead!", "Fuck you!", and "Suck on this!!!", I made this demented thing.
Goddamn sophies....
[P ALIGN=CENTER]------------------------
*a Sherman Tank rolls into view, and bounces off an invisible pothole. It swerves over and spills out to the
side. A cow, wearing a yellow football helmet pops out of the hatch and looks at you with a pair of strangely intelligent
eyes. It hands you a paper-wrapped package then began to jack the tank upright. You examine the package and a bright
red label catches your eye.
"With full apologies to William", it says.*
Warning: It's just all in harmless jest. Please..don't kill me. I want to live to see Fallout 3!!
[P ALIGN=CENTER]-------------------------------------------
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!
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Space, is really, really empty. That is, until George Lucas had his way with it. Now, SOUND became an integral
part of Outer Space, and to hell with the fact that sound needs a medium to travel with...
So it was without much difficulty that we can pick up sound of somebody singing RIDICULOUSLY LOUD AND OFF KEY..
Having nothing better to do, the camera spins around to locate the source of the noise.
It is coming from the insides of canister-shaped sattelite, with iridiscent wings of light-absorbing solar panels.
It revolved slowly, like a creature in extreme pain.
The camera has had enough. The DEMONIC SOUND MUST STOP!!! It charges the sattelite and explodes into millions
of pieces of expensive junk as it impacts against the titanite hull.
Ahem.
New camera.
___________________
CowLord cringed, and hid behind the bunker he constructed out of foam LEGOs.
"~Annnd SHEEEEEEEE weel be WAITEEEN' BY THE WEENDOOOWWW!!!!~"
"*Mooonnnggghhhh*", he moaned.
Something had to be done. He was created by his Master, the man Bluepencil, to be the perfect Cow-Butler. He
would give his electronic life for his Master, were it necessary. Right now, it seemed that he would be doing just
that.
"<I do zis for your sake, B-pennnnnnnn!!!>", he said to himself as he bellowed and charged. He rammed through a vibrating steel door like so much balsa wood and leapt at Bluepencil with a battle-cry.
"WARK!", was the only thing he could say, before a Nerf brick(tm) was shoved down his throat.
And behold, there was much rejoicing.
B-penl spat out the foam brick and glared at the purple Mechanoid Cow that cringed and bowed before him.
"You could have just told me to stop, you know..."
CowLord lifted his gaze. "You are not angry?"
"Nah.", he said with a wave. My throat was getting dry from all that screaming anyway. I sure could
use a cup of coffee, though."
CowLord handed him a steaming cup of the finest Mocha Coffee he could make.
"CALLING THE BLUEPENCIL DeCK..CALLING THE GUY WITH THE PENCIL DeeCK.", came an ehoing voice from the
intercom.
*spprfff!*, B-pen sprayed CowLord's face with sweet brownish liquid. He stomped over to the wall-com and yelled
into it, "DAMMIT! WHO LET *CRAWLER* GET HIS HANDS ON THE P.A. SYSTEM!!!!"
*scuffling sounds* "Gimme that! Sorry, boss. The Ground Below wants our heads again..."
"Thanks, Gummert. Let's get this over with, okay?"
CowLord wiped his face and pushed a button on a nearby control panel. He and Bluepencil *fzzmmm*'ed out of existence,
in Cheap-O (tm) special effects pirated from old Star Trek reruns.
They reappeared in a Theatre Hallway, with the ticket counters n' everything. One wall of the theatre hall was
nothing but an immense TV screen, however.
A vacuum cleaner sporting Jamaican curls wheeled over to the screen and turned it on. "Like, go ahead, bugger-mon."
A face flickered into the screen. It is a lined, white-moustached man, who had crazed look in his eyes. "Well,
well, well....I see that you are all doing just fine and dandy up there... How's life?"
"Very good without you, Doctor."
"Tsk.", Dr. Alchitran tsk'ed. "And here I was going to give you all a gift out of the kindness
of my heart. You wound me deeply with your distrust.."
"I have a ticking alarm clock in my chest, but that's MORE than what you'll ever have!", quoth Gummert,
and waved his mettalic claw at the face on the screen.
Dr. Alchitran sighed. "Enough of this pointless banter. On with the torture!"
Trap doors open under feet, hooves, wheels, and treads. Our protagonists fall down into a banded slide. ruffling
through several psychedelically-colored curtains along the while. The ride ends with them being dumped into a pre-arranged
seats in a old-style movie theater.
"Ow.", cried Gummert. "For some reason, CowLord's slide was aimed at *my* seat."
Crawler tried to look innocent.
"Shh. It's starting.."
--------------begin>
>>Chapter 1: Phoenix [A.E] (by William
B-pen: Hmm....seems familiar somehow.
Crawler: Isn't he the one who wrote that fic with the really sick steamy scenes about Ian and the Vault Dweller?
Gummert: WHAT?!! NO!!! How *dare* you impinge upon the character of one of the most famed Fallout ficmen!
Crawler: Oh, well..my mistake.
B-pen: The only mistake was building you in the first place..
>><mailto: [email]order_intelligence@hotmail.com[/email]?subject=Interactive Fiction> >>><mailto: [email]order_intelligence@hotmail.com[/email]?subject=Interactive
Fiction> >>><http://theorder.vault13.net/> <http://theorder.vault13.net/>, added on January
16, 2001)
B-pen: Ahh...plug! plug! plug!
Gummert: Stop it.
>>Mars Mining Corporation. Voice recorder type BMO 3851/4, spaceship Phoenix.
>>Current mission: Re-contact Earth, search for remnant civilization.
>>Log file name: Phoenix Mission 4
>>08:00 11-22-2152
>>Well, this is it. We took of only seconds ago and I’m homesick already!
B-pen: Well, if it takes my ship eight hours to clear a platform, I'd be homesick too. (Midnight or noon is the
best time to make a launch...pun! bad pun! extremely bad pun! kill me now!)
Gummert: If it takes eight hours to take off..imagine how long it would take to get to New York.
Crawler: But..why would they want to go there anyway?
B-pen: Good point.
>>The Phoenix is a good ship, but only 5 crewmen on a 3 month travel in a ship that isn’t
>>much bigger than my kitchen at home is stupid, no, call me pessimistic, but I have a
>>very, very bad feeling about this.
B-pen: And it is after only three months out in space, that they discovered the horrifying fact that the designers
had neglected to build a toilet.
>>Flying this thing for 3 months to a planet on which all life has most likely been
>>eradicated 76 years ago is madness, 76 years people! 76 years since the bombs fell!
Gummert: Now here is an interesting tidbit. What is a years people?
B-pen: It's probably people years. 76 people years...
Gummert: But...there are dog years..and cat years...what is a people year? It can't be guaged on the basis of orbits..after
all, we're on Cygnus Beta.
B-pen: Approximately 12 'droid years.
Crawler: *pops up suddenly* Hey! Why is our lifespan so much shorter than humans? After all, were made of sterner
stuff...so we should last longer.
B-pen: That doesn't take into account the dismembering I am going to give annoying 'bots when I get pushed.
Crawler: *hides*
>>Well, back to business, the checklist was fully completed and the only
>>thing missing were the backup oxygen tanks, even though admiral McKane said
>>they wouldn’t be necessary, this doesn’t contribute to my feeling about the
>>mission. I hate those pencil pushers.
B-pen: Who needs oxygen? It's a proven fact that we can live in outer space without it. Just ask Sam the Gecko.
Or Vaughn.
Gummert: Must you insert vauge SF trivia needlessly?
B-pen: Hey, I needed to get him for that pencil-pusher remark. But no, I do not have a pencil fetish. NEXT!
>>13:46 11-29-2152 We have been flying for a week now and I’m so bored you
>>wouldn’t believe it.
Crawler: He should have learned to *mmfff*!
Sparks: Don't make me hurt you, mon.
>>Anyway, Jeff is in charge of engineering now, since Katja burned her hands
>>on the fuel manifolds. Ramon is now assisted by Katja in cultivating food
>>in the back. Yech, I hate veggies!
Crawler: Two guesses why Katja likes cultivating vegetables. Hint: Eggplant...
Sparks: *slams Crawler over the head with a big wooden sledgehammer* I warned you, mon.
>>Simon and I are in charge of navigation.
>>00:21 12-02-2152 I almost got killed today! Some [unknown word] rock hit
>>the front window, so now I can’t look through it! I don’t need the front
>>windows to navigate, it was just that I like to look outside every once in
>>a while. It nearly got me a heart attack too! Oh, by the way, Katja’s
>>cooking is horrible!
B-pen: A rock?
CowLord: It is strange zat such a sophisticated ship would only have one main window.
Crawler: Cooking? Katja? (imitating William) Well, it's not really that horrible...I just don't get where she finds
all these strange-shaped fruit....I'm tired of eating cucumbers, egplant, and other tobular vegetables...and sticky
rice *grin*
B-pen: *narrows his eyes at Sparks, then nods*
Sparks: Like, with pleasure, mon.
Crawler: *tries vainly to shut down his pain receptors*
>> 08:00 12-10-2152 Jeff burned his [unknown word] hands on that [unknown
>>word] manifold as well! People, listen, please. If it hurts so much, just
>>DON’T TOUCH IT! Katja isn’t well yet, so I’m going to have to do
>>maintenance for a while, so Simon will have to navigate alone for a while.
B-pen: Say something..
Crawler: ngghhh....
B-pen: Good.
>> 10:39 12-10-2152 Raaaah! [most likely: Got-dam-it]! I burned my [unknown
>>word] hands on that [most likely: dam] manifold! If I get this satanic
>>mother[unknown word] son of a [unknown word] who made this engine in my
>>hands I’ll twist his [unknown word] neck around at least 5 times! Simon
>>takes over.
Crawler: He's too hyper. Too much repressed agression. If he'd just keep his hands off the freakin' manifold and
jerk off once in awhile, this wouldn't happen.
B-pen: *sigh* I'll say this for you, Crawler. You're dumb as hell, but you're persistent.
Sparks: *grins as he hefts his sledgehammer.*
Gummert: Are you sure you didn't program masochism accidentally?
B-pen: Absolutely.
>> 09:00 12-16-2152 Katja is back in engineering, the cooking has improved
>>and ANOTHER ONE OF THOSE [unknown word] ROCKS HIT THE WINDOW AGAIN!
B-pen: Booooobbbb!!!
CowLord: ....
>>23:16 12-20-2152 Guess what!? The [unknown word] computer crashed! It
>>displayed something about credit cards, shareware and Windows 2075. I heard
>>Simon say something about that he told them to use LINUX or something.
B-pen: I'm not even going to touch this one. It's too klippy. Care to try, Gummert?
Gummert: No. Crawler?
Crawler: Why use a Caddilac to swat a fly? No.
Sparks: Like, they should think different, mon.
>>Personally, I prefer… STAYING HOME!
Sparks: Like, amen.
B-pen: ~Oh, take me hooooooomme to-
Gummert: AAAHHH! GRAB HIM!!
*All 'bots tackle B-pen and prevent him from singing, by tying him up into knots and stuffing a Power Ranger Beanie
Baby(tm) down him mouth.*
B-pen: Mggnnfggrgggff..*glares*
>>02:42 12-24-2152 I promised never to tell anyone, but… ‘em…
>>William is kind of a sleepwalker and last night… he…
B-pen: Made a concession to Michael Jackson?
Gummert: Fixed the manifold, so it wouldn't burn anybody?
Crawler: Snuck into Katja's room and s-
Sparks: *WHAM!*
>>eh… kind of sleepwalked… out of the airlock.
Crawler: Well, if he spent his nights some other way...he wouldn't feel the need to sleepwalk...
Gummert: Please, hurt him again. Hope springs eternal that he'll learn one of these days...
>>Well, that puts me, Simon in charge. To bad though, sometimes he could be
>>nice. Oh, before I forget, merry Christmas.
B-pen: And all through the ship, not a creature was stirring...
Gummert: <Santa> OWWW!!
Crawler: <Wllliam's ghost> I told you..keep your hands off the freakin' mainfold! Jeezus! What is it with
these people?
B-pen: <Manifold> hehehehe.....I rule....
>> 0:00 01-01-2153 Happy new year.
>>10:31 01-20-2153 Sorry you had to wait so long for an update, but I
>>lost this [most likely: dam] thing again. Well, we were hit by some small
>>debris. It looks worse than it is, but those scratches and dents don’t make
>>this flying pile of jump look any prettier. The crew is getting scared of
>>what we might find back on earth. Ramon came up with some ridiculous story
>>bout mutants and walking dead, I told him to stop, cause he was scaring…
>>ahem… me.
B-pen: Scary? You're in a ship. With people who sleepwalk out of airlocks. With Jay and Silent Bob throwing rocks
in your face. With a biogeneticist who spends her time making phallic-shaped carrots. And a jumping hull. I'll
keep Earth, thank you.
Gummert: Blueepenn...
B-pen: What?
Gummert: Why is is that you can make comments like that and we can't?
B-pen: I'm the author. I have rights.
Crawler: UNFAIR!
>>Mars saw the missiles coming a year before impact and had all the time to
>>stop them, earth didn’t, those missiles struck in minutes.
B-pen: (imitating radioman) We've got missiles on three o' clock, sir.
Gummert: (imitating an Overseer) What kind?
B-pen: Nuclear ones, sir.
Gummert: Oh, nothing to worry about, then..
B-pen: But sir...they're nukes! One could wipe out our entire station.
Gummert: Tell me something, radioman...can you see the missiles?
B-pen: Yes, sir.
Gummert: Describe them.
B-pen: Well...they're missiles. With the nuke sign painted on the nose.
Gummert: How big?
Crawler: Seven hard inches, sir!
Gummert: *bang!* I meant the missile. *holters gun*
Crawler: *dies*
B-pen: I estimate about three hundred feet in length, sir.
Gummert: Then how are they supposed to reach Mars? It would take a missile a mile long to pack enough fuel to reach
us.
B-pen: ....
B-pen: The missiles are turning back sir.
Gummert: Where are they landing?
B-pen: Upstate New York. And Chicago.
Gummert: Kewl. I'll have to get a shot of the devastation to hang on my wall to inspire me..
B-pen: I'd like a five-by-four glossy, too.
>>It took me over an hour to explain them why we’re landing in the former US,
>>I had to ask them how many languages they speak besides English and tell
>>them that the only runway long enough to lift of again was Groom lake. As
>>for the languages, I do hope Jeff realizes that all the ancient Romans are
>>dead.
B-pen: Ae? Rikka noje terga guhrthi!
Sparks: Like, mir goel delo!
Gummert: Stop it! Speak in tongues we can understand!!
B-pen: Kagaton mo..... (Bite me.)
Gummert: ARRRGHHH!!!
>>19:00 01-23-2153 We got a clear view at earth today and the radar picked
>>it up. Some bad news, our communications array was damaged, katja wanted to
>>go out and repair it, but slowing down would mean losing energy, which we
>>can’t afford. And most of all it would mean wasting oxygen AND WE DON’T
>>HAVE BACKUP TANKS! We’ll repair the ship once we’ve landed in about 3
>>weeks. This report will be confirmed by katja once we return, so I can
>>explain the radio silence. 12:53 01-31-2153 We had to let go of the
>>back-section of the Phoenix, because of explosive danger after a meteorite
>>impact on it. We won’t be able to get back.
B-pen: The point of no return...the Van Hallen point.
Crawler: Resistance is futile. Your brain will turn to ooze.
Gummert: Somehow...I fear that the ship has been misnamed.
Sparks: See the nameplate, mon? It looks like its been overpainted.
CowLord: *leans close* It zeems to be supposed to spell...*Pinto*..
Gummert: Ah, that explains lots.
>>06:04 02-04-2153 We have a good look at earth now. God it’s beautiful.
Gummert: He's blind.
>>08:00 02-07-2153 None of our messages, send with our short range
>>communicator, to earth or the moon have been answered, the crew, including
>>me, is loosing it. Maybe they are dead. We can see the ISS, Lunar 1 through
>>5 and the Enclave Net Satellites, a deteriorated by lack of maintenance.
Sparks: You can't lose what yo never had in the first place, mon.
B-pen: There can be only one Net, and they lost. *sings a dirge to Netscape*
>>10:20 02-09-2153 We’re close enough to see. Earth is a desert planet now.
>>Only in the rainforests and other low populated areas the bombs didn’t
>>drop, so basically there still has to be life. We are landing in the US
>>however, which has been totally devastated.
B-pen: I told them it was a bad idea to change the flag into a Microsoft logo but nooo....
Crawler: Allahum Akbar! We're Number One!! HAHAHAHAHA!!! DIE, CAPITALIST SCUM!! ALL HAIL THE MAHDI! AND....may
we go kill the AOL guy now, sir?
Gummert: <Steve Jobs> Sure.
>>13:41 02-12-2153 We’ve landed
>>and found survivors! They are attacking us. I can’t stop the auto defense
>>turret. They’re attempting to surrender, but the only one with the proper
>>clearance to override sleepwalked out the [unknown word] airlock! [most
>>likely: Dam] you William! And someone program [unknown word] and [most
>>likely: dam] in this [unknown word] thing!
B-pen: Denial...is such a pitiful sight.
Gummert: Did he fall..or was he pushed?
CowLord: And why is Katja grinning like zat?
Crawler: <Katja> These dildos are mine! And mine alone!
B-pen: Crawler!!
>>13:56 02-12-2153 US slang language installed. Goddamned! Fucking! Yes it
>>works. None of the attackers is alive anymore. Ramon was still outside when
>>the doors closed and the auto-defense kicked in. He was standing between
>>the turret and a target, not a pretty sight. That leaves just me, Katja and
>>Jeff.
B-pen: I'll say it for those Raiders, they're durable. It took two goddamn days for them to die.
Gummert: Durable, but idiotic. Didn't even try to run...Like someone I know.
Crawler: ...
>>14:12 02-12-2153 Damn! The buggy was in the back-part of the Phoenix, the
>>part we dumped! Looks like we’re going to be walking. According to the map
>>we are not far from Groom lake, where we were supposed to land but didn’t
>>because of the fog.
B-pen: It's a tradition. Hey, at least you won't need to march back..
Gummert: Surely, that was most bad snapper you ever made, B-pen.
B-pen: Every time. And don't call me Shirley.
Crawler: That was worse.
>>23:16 02-15-2153 We travel at night, because of the temperatures and it’s
>>winter now, so the nights are long. We only got 10 miles forward last
>>night, and we should be happy if can get the half of that tonight, unless
>>we find new water.
>>00:43 02-16-2153 We found water, we filled the special issue Vaulttec Mars
>>edition water flasks we have with up.
B-pen: They're in a desert!! Where did they get that?!
Gummert: Someone up there must love them.
Crawler: Someone up there has a very sick sense of humor.
>>03:11 02-16-2153 We lost Jeff. He didn’t look where he walked carefully
>>enough, tripped and fell down the canyon we’ve been following the last 2
>>days. Somehow I have a bad feeling about this mission.
B-pen: William was chosen leader for a good reason. This guy has a very poor danger sense.
Crawler: Okay..so whacking off has its disadvantages.
B-pen: *sighs* I knew hoping you gained sense was too good to last..
>>07:25 02-18-2153 We came across a caravan today, when we asked about Groom
>>lake everyone warned us about something called a [manually entered:
>>WANNADINGO] or something like that. These people have been knocked back
>>into the dark ages. When we asked for supplies they wanted payment, but we
>>couldn’t pay for anything. So they wanted Katja to ‘entertain’ some of the
>>guards. Not to surprising if you’d see what she’s wearing right now, it’s
>>hardly anything, she took most of because of the heat in the daytime and
>>she was raise as a naturist, so she hasn’t any problems with spectators. As
>>said, so done.
B-pen: *drools*
Gummert: *drools motor oil*
Crawler: *takes notes*
CowLord: *facing camera* That is ze problem with overactive imaginations..
>>We had been going the wrong way all along, we should have walked through
>>some canyon, we now have a 10 mm pistol and 8 bullets for it.
B-pen: They're idiots, aren't they?
Gummert: Yep.
Sparks: No doubt, mon.
Crawler: Take me back to Codgerspace..
>>10:39 02-20-2153 We found Jeff in the canyon, shot up by raiders, as it
>>turns out, this canyon is only 6 feet deep.
B-pen: Then it's a ditch, not a canyon! If it's six feet deep, why the hell did they pass it on? Do they have spatial
recognition problems?
Gummert: Obviously.
Crawler: No, they're just total and absolute brainless. Sleeping with a caravan guard? Jeez..
B-pen: Well, it was either that or *ahem* Simon.
Crawler: That was ...perverted and hopelessly obscure, B-pen..... now I know why I look up to you..
B-pen: Thanks.
Gummert: *rolls eyes* Heavens!
>>Katja has gotten a STD from one of the guards, she begged me not to tell
>>anyone it’s Syphilis, oh shit! 20:41 02-23-2153 Shit! It was a mutated
>>strain of Syphilis. Strange blisters and other scary things cover her whole
>>body. She died a few minutes ago in a very painful and itchy fashion. I’m
>>all alone and scared now.
B-pen: Gross..*grin*
Gummert: *disgusted grin*
Crawler: *unfanthomable grin*
Sparks: *evil grin*
CowLord: Baka. Sheep bladders, if nothing elze.
>>12:07 02-26-2153 I can see Groom lake from the top of the hill I’m
>>standing on already. Some survivors seem to have fortified it and I can
>>hear laser and plasma fire all the time, and with reason. Those slimy
>>purple things with tentacles are all over the place, I see more purple than
>>sand! The look pretty dumb though, I’ll go see if I can reach the facility,
>>by evading those things, I’ll make another entry once I’m inside.
Gummert: Use your imagination. *waves a claw at the screen* It's simple.
B-pen: More purple than sand...ergoo...it's MUD!! AHAHAHA!!!
Crawler: Tentacles? Oooh!
B-pen: *ugh* Settle down, spunky.
>>0:29 02-27-2153 OPEN THE DOOR! PLEASE, LISTEN TO ME, LET ME IN!
>>PLEAHEAHEASE! I BEG YOU, I AAAAAAARGH!
B-pen: Idiot.
Gummert: When you start jotting down your thoughts while being attacked...you KNOW you're in trouble.
Crawler: NO! Don't fall for it! Don't open the door! It's the BETAMAX SALEMAN IN DISGUISE!!!
>>Noon 24-06-2238 This story I got from an old techni-thingie, an antiquity,
>>which I got from a dusty traveler. He staid he found in the rotting carcass
>>of a Wanamingo. I written it down so I could sell the computer again. If I
>>would have read this story before letting the traveler go I would have
>>asked him some questions, but now questions remain unanswered, one of them:
>>‘Is it true?’
B-pen: And the truth is...out there.
Gummert: All lies lead to the truth. Chaos means disorder means opportunity.
Sparks: Like, it's no shame to admit ya's been yakkin with the ho.. [translation: THE EARLY BIRDS GET THE WORM]
CowLord: And cheese shall save ze world.
All: *looks to Crawler*
Crawler: Umm... Enclave brand Advanced PA......the proto-ceramic condom??!
All: *groans and falls over*
[P ALIGN=CENTER]end<-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Our heroes exit the theater, chatting amongst themselves. The Doctor, in the monitor, scowls at seeing their happy expressions.
"Well?"
"You messed up this time, Dr. A.", remarked Blupencil. "It wasn't that bad. Hell, it wasn't bad at all.."
"I agree..", agreed Gummert. "It was incredibly imaginative...and he seems to have loused up on purpose."
"I hav sensed zat too.."
Dr. Alchitran frowned. "This is intolerable! I can't gather my valuable scientific data if you remain sane!"
"Sane? Who's sane?"
"That's your problem, Dr. A. You can't make us mad..since we're one to begin with..", B-pen said with a grin.
"Is that so? Well, I guess we'll just have to make it more severe next time...."
"You can't break us, Doctor!"
"We'll see...we will see..."
The monitor blinked out......
A slight chill passed through the room.....
"Gummert...what did I tell you about tempting fate?"
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Well, that's it! Sorry I couldn't make it funnier...
And William is really a such a goddamn good writer..so that's why I felt challenged to write a MST about his wonderful
work.
*puts on Advanced Power Armor*
*burrows underground*
And it's time to watch the fireworks..
William: Personally, I prefer… STAYING HOME!
[P ALIGN=CENTER]~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^
[url]http://envy.nu/bpen/bp.gif[/url]
[email]bluepencil@envy.nu[/email] | Caffeine is the cornerstone of society.
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rives onto the board in a humvee and opens the backdoors, revealing a cage holding holding a level 58 Machiel::
)