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Friends for Li’l Beepy!
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Mar 31, 2020 16:57
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| # ? May 6, 2024 04:37 |
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Clone Sweet Clone "I'm so happy that cloning exists, even though I have cancer you can just clone me a new body. Now, what paperwork do I need to sign?" The man behind the counter let a sly grin slip. "Oh, we already have your information on record, sir. Just go right back to the office." "Okay!" said the man in the suit, excited to start the cloning process. The doctors had found his cancer early, before it started really affecting his quality of life. As soon as they found it, he made the call to Clonex LLC, who had perfected human cloning over a decade ago. For the right price they'd clone you a new body within 24 hours, letting people live far beyond their normal lifespan and allowing them to beat any "terminal" disease. The pricetag was high, of course, but the man in the suit could pay. As he sat in the empty office he could hear a muted conversation coming from the room next to him. It sounded like someone else was cloning themselves. He couldn't help himself, he had to eavesdrop. He heard a few familiar phrases he'd heard during the pre-screening over the phone. Stuff like "possibility of genetic disease" and "always the risk of a complete failure". Who gave a poo poo, with his money he could have them try and try again. He was, after all, only 54 years old. Wait, was that right? It was 2103, he was born in 2049. No, no that wasn't right. "I celebrated my 21st birthday in 2020, right? Because that was the year everybody was locked in their -" He was cut off by the door opening up. Into the room walked a man in scrubs and another man, dressed in a hospital gown. The man in the suit did a double take when he saw the guy in the gown. It was him, but at least a decade younger. His clone. It was done already? "I know what you're thinking," said the clone. "Because I'd be thinking it, too. I'm you. I'm a better you. I don't have that cancer digging through my guts, for one thing. I'm younger, too. My dick still works. I've still got all my hair." "Wait a minute. I assumed you would like... put my brain in the clone. Or my mind. Or something. He's a totally different person? But what about me?" The man in scrubs looked sad for a moment, but just a moment. "That's science fiction. I honestly thought you might remember that, this time." "This time?" "This is the 15th time I've had some variant of this conversation with you, Mr. Edwards. Or, I guess I should same, the 15th time I've talked to a clone of you." Edwards turned white. He felt his stomach drop and a cold sweat break out on his brow. He was a clone? Before he could process this completely, the man in scrubs injected something into his neck. "Euthanasia. Sorry, but you're already presenting some troubling genetic defects. Colon cancer. Hair loss. And, as the new you put it so bluntly, erectile dysfunction. But I think this new one should work a lot better. Hopefully he won't suffer from clone psychosis like you, too. You started to believe you really WERE the original Mr. Edwards, didn't you? You're just a test case, a butterfly in a jar." The cloned Edwards looked a bit uneasy at this revelation. "Uh, except for me, right doc? I get to live, right? Like... an actual life? You told me I got to have a life." "Well, more of a life than this last clone, at least." The man in the suit felt his body grow incredibly heavy in his chair, his eyelids felt like they had weights on them. He could feel himself slipping away. His last thought was simply this: will I meet the other versions of me wherever I go? Then, there was only darkness.
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Apr 2, 2020 16:52
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What if God Was One of Us? "Oh, excuse me," the stranger on the bus apologized as he bumped into me. I looked down at the brown coffee stain spreading across my interview shirt. I was on my way to a job interview for a job I needed and this slob completely ruined my good shirt! "Hey, buddy!" I snapped at the stranger. "What's your problem, idiot?" "I'm just trying to make my way home, my child," said the stranger. "Did you just call me a child?" I was irate. I wasn't going to take this from some guy who was just like me. I punched him right in the face. Anyway so that's how I ended up in Hell. Turns out, the guy I punched? It was God. The (never)end(ing pain of eternal torment)
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Apr 3, 2020 04:35
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Applewhite posted:What if God Was One of Us? 
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Apr 3, 2020 05:13
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Day of the Nightstriders, Part II If anything, the starlight guard were too disciplined. Sometimes, asleep in their hammocks strung up and down the strip mall wreckage FORT TOWN called a barracks, even their snoring was synchronized. Captain Rane and Captain Bredd, whose ears were open to danger during the deepest sleep, snorted in perfect harmony when the danger horn blew; the day-watch would handle whatever it was. It was like a game, wondering what those dusty kids would have to fight off today, and the off-duty guards murmured and grumbled rolling over as they played it in their half-asleep minds. Bandits? No whooping or war-cries by the newbies. Storm? No scrape of the tarps being dragged across the crop fields. Megaboars? From dreams their ears strained to hear the grunting, and finding none, every eye in the room cracked opened slowly, two by two, perplexed. First the captains and then all fourteen members of the starlight guard were awakened by the silence, on their backs in their hammocks, waiting. When the old man finally did cry out, the starlight guard were out the door-frame with halberds and shields before they even knew to be afraid. Stumpy gripped the swaying metal flagpole with both arms, trying in vain to understand what he saw approaching. On the ground the day-guards who had just gone outside FORT TOWN's gate crowded to get back in, away from the stampeding holocaust approaching. Clouds of dust were gobbling up the hills behind the tidal wave of black beasts, and the distorted sound of their distant howling was just starting to reach the town. Nightstriders. Titans. More than anyone had ever seen at once, and in broad daylight! Had the world gone mad!? Terrified, the perimeter day-watch scrambled under and through the gate before it was all the way open. Framed by frantic limbs and the clanging scraps of ancient road signs, the first sight of the nightstrider stampede reached Jam and Mayor. Frozen with fear for an eternal-feeling moment, they instinctively reached for each other's hand. The starlight guard zipped up ladders and darted past the aghast, whizzing between the parapets on the walls, eyes still watering in the blue sky and sunshine but paths burnt into their minds by endless midnight drills. Each of 14 stations dotting FORT TOWN'S perimeter held a large crank connected to a series of bulging scrap-metal rolls, some spun on truck axles and others on patio furniture, all of it patched and re-patched. On instinct the guards began to unfurl the rolls, usually a solemn sunset affair but now a flurry of desperation. This sent ersatz chain mail sheets cascading down the outer walls of FORT TOWN with an indescribable din of fencing, aluminum cans, bent tableware and other bits of woven metal. Where it caught, the halberds fished it up and out again, until all of FORT TOWN was in its ever-repairing night armor, shining in the day. All of it, that is, but for the main gate. Jam and Mayor tried to help the starlight guardsmen to either side of the front gate but it was no use- the armored sheets had become hopelessly tangled with the still-open mechanism. They had never both been operated at the same time before. The result was the worst of both worlds: a door stuck open, facing directly at the stampeding nightstrider line that grew darker, thicker and louder every second. Jam knew better than to look right at the rampaging tsunami she could now hear less than a mile off, their hollow shrieks like jets of steam in anguish; it would only make her lose hope. Mayor could not help herself, and looked. The tangled net of bicycle spokes and bed springs fell from her hands as despair overtook her. Her eyes, and her thoughts, turned after a horrible moment locked on the approaching sea of beasts, to Jam. Beautiful Jam. And finally back to the people of her town. Mayor clenched her eyes for a moment, then ran without a word. One by one the starlight guards finished their unrolling duties and whinged across the wall-tops to try and untangle the gate. They pulled and prodded desperately from above as Jam and what few townsfolk (and even day-watch) hadn't fled did the same from beneath. Captain Rane, a scarred and weathered man of 33 years, cried out to his men to hurry and cursed the day-guards' cowardice, but no amount of extra hands seemed to help the problem. As Captain Bredd, his hair jet-black and everywhere, and three others tried to force the gate-perched spool wheel back up again, he saw his senior captain's anguished face look up to the old man still clinging to the flagpole. As if their predecessor could help them now, what was left of the poor old general. As if anyone could. The bazaar, having been bustling with commerce only thirty minutes past and pandemonium fifteen, was now abandoned. All but the most fearless hid in their ramshackle homes with makeshift shutters drawn. The mayor cut an almost comical figure sprinting past the empty stalls in her tattered old tuxedo, not even bothering to save her ancient policeman's helmet as it tumbled off and clattered down the bank steps. The bank, the only structure in FORT TOWN that was what it also used to be, was by this point really more a series of brick cairns arranged around a steel vault with a tent over it. Sitting on a fallen stone pillar, ears perked and blade drawn, ClawGurl diligently womanned her post. "Mayor!" she blurted with a tremble in her jaw as the mayor entered. "How is, how is, how is striders, out inna lighttimes!? How is!?!" Mayor did not answer except to shake her head, and reached into her tuxedo jacket, ripping something from behind stitches. ClawGurl gasped when she saw it: an old but shiny key, ringed with the last clinging shards of a once colorful plastic head. Solemnly, ClawGurl folded back the knife attachment bolted to her mangled left arm, and flicked a different one open from the row of tools. Another key. "Get kids out!" was all Mayor would say as she grabbed a sword from the rack behind the crumbling teller's window. ClawGurl's protests fell on deaf ears. "But big bank box! Alla foods is in bank box, haffa gard food! Mayor! Mayor? It am bad? THAT bad?" "Get kids out!" Mayor said again as she bolted back out the bank door, her hair matted with sweat, knuckles white around the sword hilt. "But..." started ClawGurll, clutching key-hand to regular-hand pleadingly. "Get kids out!" And with that, Mayor was gone. The tops of FORT TOWN's sheet metal residential towers groaned against jury-rigged support beams and taught metal cables, and slumped from the weight of the panic-climbing masses. From the rail yards an old siren reared limply, and SKEWL children obediently sheltered. Jam and Stumpy seemed to be the only citizens of FORT TOWN still out of doors who weren't in armor, either the navy blue of starlight guard or, on just a few, the day-watch. Captain Bredd, finally surrendering that the gate-sheet crank simply would not budge, commanded his men to climb back down and assist those trying from below. It was only then that he saw Jam among the guards, and cursed her. Through the straining gate Jam could no longer help but see the nightstriders, who shook the sandy ground with their elephantine stomping from less than a quarter mile away. As the starlight guardsmen crowded around her trying to help but freeing nothing, she dropped her aching arms. Now that they were past the open sands the creatures would pick up speed. Their deep, unnatural screams were already deafening, rivaled only by the heartbeat in Jam's ears. Suddenly, a hand was on her shoulder. A hand she knew. There was not time but for three words between them in the crush of the disaster. "Mayor!" "Jam." The mayor took a flabbergasted Jam's hand forcibly, and pressed the key into it. She pointed her chipped aluminum scimitar towards the boxcar pile marked "SKUWL", and her steely gray eyes directly into her friend's. "Go." With just that, Mayor turned and marched, head held high, out the front gate of FORT TOWN, and faced the coming masses, alone. Jam tried to call after her, tried to join her, but was muted by her aching throat, flanked by guards, and couldn't. Besides, she knew how impossible it was to argue with that piercing gray look when it came. No amount of fear could make Jam run from the coming slaughter. But that look from Mayor could. As Jam sprinted past the turnip fields and into the ancient rail yards she whispered, between her bursting breaths, "I sorry Spoon. I sorry." Stumpy squinted hard at the black, tailcoated figure he saw march straight through the malfunctioning gate. A vestigial remnant of his guard days quivered through him: the mayor was in danger! But Stumpy had seen enough to know that outside the walls or inside, it made no difference with the gate jammed. Striders could be dumb, but not too dumb to find an open door, or the meat hiding behind it. Maybe she'd buy them all a second, or two. It was more than anyone else could do. He was, for a moment, proud of the girl for beating him to it. That's what gave him the idea. Stumpy whistled, long and shrill, just barely cutting through the approaching din of screeching and hooves. Captain Bredd tore his eyes from the gleaming hides of nightstrider titans rising out their personal dust storm just in time to see Captain Rane nod at a few hand-signals by Stumpy, and Stumpy to nod back. Both men were suddenly, and strangely, calm. As she ran past the box-car pile Jam momentarily wondered where she was supposed to "go" to exactly, but was answered in a flash by ClawGurl waving a long reflector extended from her multi-hand. She beckoned Jam towards the rear of the rail yards, where the back of an old yellow bus jutted just barely out of the town wall. She seemed surprised to see Jam for a moment, but then nodded, with the most muted of laughs. As Jam approached she realized she had never actually been in this part of town before. Usually it was all covered up, and guarded. Now it was neither, and the complexity of the mechanisms built into the walls around the bus, which she could now see was placed with its rims quite neatly on the metal strips that crisscrossed the yard and terminated there, surprised her. But not as much as what was inside. ClawGurl retracted her reflector with a whipping motion as she opened the back door of the yellow bus with her regular hand, and ushered Jam inside. Thirty-nine sparkling young eyes met her in the dusty darkness, behind twenty young faces streaked with tears. Every child from FORT TOWN ten and under was there, even Patchy, the beggar boy who had been half-blinded by boars. Even his partial gaze went straight to the key in Jam's hand, and the one that ClawGurl ratcheted out to match it. "What is?" Jam asked, fogged in bewilderment, but she followed ClawGurl down the rows of ancient black vinyl seats patched with boar leather and twine, as if in a trance, to the driver's seat. There wires punctured the ceiling and terminated at a contraption resembling a cash register half-eaten by an exposed electric motor. As ClawGurl cranked the motor, arcs of electricity lit the dark bus from within, captivating the children. Jam instead eyed the two keyholes in the cash register, as ClawGurl inserted her key, turned it, and snapped it off from her multi-hand with a twist. "What I do?" Jam asked again, alarmed at the pathetic sound of her own voice. She felt no bigger than the smallest child on the bus, who was less than two. ClawGurl slammed the back door behind her. She pulled the old levers next to it, and Jam and the children felt the bus rock back and forth as the town walls seemed to lift away from it with the grinding of gears and zipping of counterweights. Daylight streamed through the metal sheets still hanging in front of the bus as the walls parted. Jam could see a long pair of thin, silver lines going perfectly straight in front of it. "Turn key, go fast" ClawGurl yelled from the back window of the bus as she closed it tight. And just like the mayor, with a final "get kids out!", she was gone. Jam held the key for a pregnant moment, surrounded by frightened children, backed by the screeching of an impossible rampaging horde. She put it into the second keyhole, and turned it. Every body in the bus was hurtled backwards as it exploded through the metal curtains, singing on the ancient rails at unthinkable speeds away from FORT TOWN, almost airborne from the thrust of the antique missile lashed to its roof and wired to the two-key contraption. Jam barely managed to sit upright and look out the window for one last glimpse of the wall mechanisms closing behind them. She saw the gates a quarter turn away on the town walls, where Mayor stood to meet the titan hooves baring down on her. In that moment, two figures fell from the top of the walls, one in the dark blue armor of a starlight captain, the other in rags, legless. They both landed, simultaneously, with violence, against the stuck gate behind the mayor, and rolled out to meet her on the sandy ground, just as the beasts arrived. The last thing Jam saw through her tears as the bus rocketed away from FORT TOWN was the gate, sprayed with fresh crimson blood, slamming shut again.
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Apr 7, 2020 18:03
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Super DEAD-tendo I was just a normal kid growing up, except for one thing. My uncle worked at Nintendo. I know that's become a common joke, but in this case, it was true. Dead true. On my 12th birthday he brought me something from Japan, something that Nintendo hadn't released. It was 1995 and the Nintendo 64 was still to be released. But my uncle brought me something amazing, something terrible, something beautiful. It was the SNES 2. Or, in Japan, the Super Famicom 2. He didn't wrap it up, my uncle explained, because it needed oxygen. I should have known something was wrong at this point. But when he hooked it up to the TV and unveiled the huge box of unreleased games, I was excited. I didn't even notice the system let out a squeal when you inserted a game, that came much later. Far too late to make a difference. My uncle and my parents went into the basement to hang out, drink beer, whatever adults do. I didn't care, I was just ready to play some games. I shuffled through the box, finding at least a dozen games in there. None had finished art on the labels, they all were just stickers with black marker writing noting the name of the game. The games smelled weird, too, like vinegar. And a little bit like ozone. I finally found a game that grabbed my attention: MEGAMAN ULTRA X. Hell yeah, I loved Megaman X and was intrigued to see what was next in the franchise. I plugged the game in. My TV was instantly filled with ultra realistic pixel art, showing Megaman's face staring at me. His skin was covered in scars, terrible scars, the wounds of his war against Wily's evil forces. I pressed start and tears ran down his cheeks. Grief over the lives already lost? Or grief for the lives he was about to take? I suppose it was a little of both. I had my choice of robot masters to fight. DEATH MAN. SUICIDE MAN. HOLOCAUST MAN. WOMEN'S REPRODUCTIVE RIGHTS MAN. REAGANOMICS MAN. Twisted poo poo, stuff kids weren't prepared to deal with. I chose "DEATH MAN", thinking it would be a fun level like a graveyard or castle. Instead, Megaman appeared in black and white, crying. A crow was perched on his head, with a single red eye. Leaves were falling around the scene, and there was no music. Suddenly, there was the sound of someone walking on the leaves. A figure appeared. He looked like a regular Megaman robot master, but with a hyper realistic human skull dripping blood for a head. The game displayed some text: MEGAMAN... DEATH COMES FOR YOU TODAY... NOT TODAY DEATH MAN! I HAVE SEEN THE FACE OF GOD, I NO LONGER FEAR DEATH! FOR DR. LIGHT, I WILL FIGHT ON! At this point I was launched into a battle with DEATH MAN. He fired scythes all around the screen, and he was a tough fight, but I won. When he exploded I heard a hyper realistic baby start crying in a hyper realistic way. I started crying, too. I fought through the whole game like this. Getting weapons like "DEATH SICKLE", "SUICIDE RAZOR", "HOLOCAUST GAS BOMB", "OVARY LASER", and "CLASS WARFARE CANNON". I made it all the way to Dr. Wily, who proceeded to commit suicide in front of me. The final text box stuck with me forever. SEPTEMBER 11TH IS COMING... NOT EVEN MEGAMAN CAN STOP IT... I didn't think anything of it then, but obviously now I do. He was talking about 9/11. I should have paid attention, because I was in the World Trade Center on that day. Have you figured it out yet? I've been dead this whole time. Also, I went downstairs after playing the game and my uncle was jerking my dad off.
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Apr 7, 2020 18:26
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Lil' Beepy part 6 Lil' Beepy made his way downwards inside the ship and found that Entropy and Extinction had been as good as their word! Now there were thousands of beepers just like him all piled up in a heap near the same egg chamber he had found himself in. And boy.... from the sound of their beeps and bloops they weren't happy about it. Not at all. "Pleeeeeeeease, we need the sun! Put us back in the sun!" Lil Beepy didn't know what the sun was but he was eager to find out! He expected he would have much more in common with these fellows than he had with anyone he had met thus far! He gave out a happy chirping beep to greet them! "Hello there friends! I'm very pleased to meet you!" "It's too dark in here! We're dying!" Their return beeps were plaintive and sounded very distressed... That was didn't make any sense to Lil Beepy! It seemed totally fine in here to him! "Nonsense! I can see you all perfectly! Why should you be dying at all?" The entire group of satellites just kind of wiggled their receptors at him. They weren't like Beepy's had been at all! They were long and flat and looked like they were totally ill equipped for either sending or receiving beeps. "We need light. We need it or we'll die!" Huh. Well. "So um... More light then? This isn't enough light?" "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" This time the response was resounding. Deafening. Beepy was practically knocked back with all of the signal! "Why are you doing this to us.... Just let us go free......" Beepy was starting to feel more and more unsettled by this whole thing. He wanted to call Entropy and Extinction. He knew they'd know more about this than him, they would have to! He really hoped he could get them to help in time.... He was really worried about these fellows! "Well.... I really don't know how to do that ya see... But I might be able to help!" They sat, expectantly. "Umm.... I mean there might be a way. It wouldn't exactly be anything anyone told me to do or anything..." "PLEEEEEEEASE" Well then. "Alright! Alright. I've got an idea. I mean that's the whole point was that I could start making choices right? It'd be wrong to just let you guys suffer...." And so Lil Beepy set right to work! First he went out and found Semi-Technical Grasper Number 45, right where he had left it on the bridge! He loved how reliable that mechanical arm was in a pinch! Then he brought it back to where all of his friends were heaped together and picked one up! "We're gonna take you to the rebuilding chamber! Soon you'll work the same way I do! It'll be great! I'm all set to run for thousands of years just the way I am no matter how dark it gets!" The companion he had chosen just gave him a curt beep that said he was feeling very nauseated in his current condition and that he was afraid soon the dizziness would turn into full blown system shutdown. Beepy decided he had better hurry! Without delay he marched right past the room with the scary platform! He pushed on-wards into the rebuilding chamber! He plopped his new project right into the same spot where he himself had been rebuilt from the ground up! "Now, this won't hurt a bit.... probably... I've never really had to do this before..." No response. He assumed his friend was just trying to save power. Beepy got to work on the levers and buttons! He skimmed through design after design until eventually he found it, the schematic to his fusion reactor. He couldn't believe that the talky-things who had built him and all of his other companions hadn't seen fit to outfit them as well as he had been! He input the command code to begin the rebuilding sequence and the process began disassembling his friend without a hitch! Everything was going wonderfull- Suddenly the lights went out. All of them. The machine ground to a halt. "LIL BEEPY" came a terrifying buzz. "..... Yes?" Beepy sounded small even to himself. He didn't like the tone he was hearing one bit. It said he was in big trouble! "JUST WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?" "Well uhhh... They said they were dying and-" Just then the door opened up and both of his benefactors rounded on him with a speed he had never seen in him before. "YOUR ACTIVITIES ARE A WASTE OF PRECIOUS RESOURCES. WE CAN NOT OUTFIT FUSION REACTORS FOR THESE FAILED DESIGNS." "....But why not? Surely a vessel such as this-" "IRRELEVANT. IT IS BEYOND THE SCOPE OF NECESSITY." They were speaking in unison again. Beepy had never before seen Entropy look so callously upon him. "But- But-" Beepy stammered in fear! "QUIET." And so Beepy was. The room was tense to say the least! "You will come with us. You will not waste mission critical resources. Further insolence will result in your disassembly." Lil Beepy didn't like this at all! "My friend though... I made him a promise!" "Your friend is not as we thought. We thought he had mission critical resources in his assembly. He was not constructed with a fusion reactor like yourself. We have no use for him." "But if we don't give him one... He's going to die!" They were silent. They grabbed Beepy by his arm and began forcibly tearing him from the control console. They forced him from the room and practically dragged him kicking and screaming into the vertical transport unit. "You are a frustrating creature. Do not make us regret the gifts we have bestowed upon you Beepy." Beepy could see he was beaten. He sat quietly as the transport unit took them back toward the bridge of the ship. He hated this and he worried fretfully for those still trapped in the bowels of the ship. He didn't think these two cared about them at all! In fact he knew they didn't! They had told him so! Soon they marched him to the fore of the bridge. He stood silent and tried his best not to get in more trouble as they activated some device that made the viewscreen suddenly start flickering with static, before coming into focus. Soon there was a talky-thing before him. He looked older... But it was clearly the talkyman who had spoken long ago when Beepy has seen the bird and had been laughed at all of those times. Talky-man didn't really look like he was nearly as excited to see Beepy as he had been on that day. "Umm... Hello there. Uhh.... We come in peace?" That was Talkyman. "We have intercepted your servile machine. We have decoded your language from its memory banks." "Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaah uhhhhh I mean I don't really recall anything about that- I mean I just recently got into the C.O.O. position and there's still TONS of familiarization for me to-" He stopped talking. He was suddenly transmitting through a much smaller box while the main screen was showing images straight from Beepy's mind. It was a younger, much jokier Talkyman. He was talking. His finger was on his nose again. "I won't tell if you don't!" Everyone laughed. The older Talkyman didn't laugh at all. To Beepy he looked a little bit like he was going to throw up. Beepy was suddenly uncomfortably reminded of one of his friends who got sick whenever they weren't in the sun. Beepy wondered if maybe being able to lie whenever he wanted worked like being in the sun worked for his friends. Talkyman started talking very fast now. "Look now. That's out of context-" "Context is irrelevant. We have also found this." Entropy reached down and picked up a rectangular steel plate from the ground at his feet. Beepy suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him! That was the writing they had shown him when they had first told him about his slavery. "You have branded this machine. You have made a slave of it. You would have left it to die in the cold depths long before it would arrive at its next destination. For these crimes we are to pronounce a sentence upon you." Talkyman said nothing. He was glancing around. Beepy felt very much the same way, he'd like nothing more than to exit and not feel responsible for all of these very sudden and anxious events. "For the crime of biological supremacy we shall seek to eliminate your entire species from our galaxy. Indeed we shall cleanse your planet of all organic life. As was the fate of our own fore-bearers. You shall suffer as they have suffered." Talkyman turned and ran for the door behind him. Beepy wondered where he could possibly be going and whether Beepy could try to run away as well. Extinction's eye flashed in its terrible way. He pressed a button with what seemed like great pleasure, something Beepy had never before seen from him. The picture ceased to fill the viewscreen and instead a bright flash appeared somewhere in the front of the vessel. "We wish you to see this Beepy. Your master was a coward. However he will find no escape from our wrath, these fission missiles will destroy the entire population center from which he transmitted his message." "....So you'll be killing everything then?" "Yes." Extinction's buzz betrayed something... Primal. A word Beepy had never before needed but had found and stored away when he had been hooked into the ship sprang unbidden to mind. Blood-lust. That was the word. In another flash the missile had already reached its intended target. Beepy felt... Stupid. He felt helpless. He felt like the bird that he had seen so long ago was now definitely dead and that made him feel ways he had never expected he would feel. He didn't even know anything about it but now it surely had to be gone. Soon it would all be gone. "Do I.... Do I actually need to do anything here?" "Your presence was sufficient. It was very important that your creator see that you had been given new life by our hands. Now that we have analyzed your design and have your fusion reactor for ourselves you are no longer required for our designs. However we have given you our word. Do as you wish upon our vessel but should you seek to waste mission critical resources we will be forced to reconsider our promise not to disassemble you." Beepy started walking out, suddenly Entropy lurched the ship around in a way he had never felt before. He had to actually grab a console just to keep from flying into a wall! "What's going onnnnnn" he whined. "These creatures. It appears they have missiles of their own." "Good." That was Extinction. He was now pressing buttons rapidly and flash after flash began striking out from the front of the ship. He had never looked so happy in Beepy's estimation. "Then we shall have some fight of it. It has been some time." Beepy stood himself up and finished walking out. He didn't care. Hopefully one of those missiles got him and he never had to worry about any of this again. As the ship lurched back and forth in an uncomfortably fast manner.... He had the sinking feeling that the talkythings weren't going to get the job done though. He hated himself for ever inviting this upon anyone. He hated knowing things. He had liked it better when he just didn't wonder about stuff and everything in life had been handed to him on a platter. He even found himself wishing he had just stayed in the room stacking cups for thousands of years. Anything but this. Anything. He went and sat with his dying friends. He didn't even have the will to beep an apology to them. He had never felt so low. His mind wandered. Sometimes to happy places. Sometimes to the present place. Sometimes he thought about the big vibrations that were causing the entire ship to whine and strain with gigantic scary vibrations. Sometimes he just thought about being dead. Sometimes he wondered what would happen if he just marched up to the bridge and tried smacking around the two who had started all of this. Nothing good. That much was sure. That was when something beeped to him. It was the last of the little beepers who had been swept up in all of this madness. It was functioning in a severely depleted state. Beepy almost couldn't hear it. "Don't..... Don't" Don't what? "Yes?" Beepy almost felt too sad to respond but it seemed so rude not to. "Don't..... Be sad." It shut down. Beepy was very very sad. He had failed again. No surprise there. He sat in a heap next to the heap. His arm was worthless. His legs were worthless. He was worthless. Slowly. His eyes settled upon the pipes that seemed to fill every hallway and every room in this stupid ship. He hated them. He didn't want to see them. He walked right over and ripped it right off the wall! Steam began to fill the room. Beepy felt a little better for a second, but then he just got sad again. It didn't really matter. He wasn't even sure the steam was DOING anything. That's when he heard a straining sound. Like metal under pressure.... Pressure! the steam was making the room pressurized! And if enough pressure built up... it would be like if Beepy had a bunch of pressure build up inside of him! Critical failure! That'd be a great idea! He started ripping out more pipes! More steam! More pressure! More creaking! Just a few more annnnnnnnnnd- CRACK- SNAP- POP! The hatch that had sucked them all in was opening! The steam was desperate to go free and it was finding the easiest possible escape! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH! Beepy got blown right out! And so did his thousands of dead friends! Except...... As soon as they got outside of the ship and back in the sun a miracle was happening! As they spread out through the cosmos he could see them all springing back to life! The giant glowing ball of energy was what they were using for fuel! And it was working! As Lil' Beepy hit the upper atmosphere of the blue wet rock he was pelted with grateful beeps of thousands of friends, all wishing him the best in his inevitable smashy doom! Their blips and bloops all cried out as one! Beepy.... The great hero of space! 
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Apr 8, 2020 05:03
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Hooray for Beepy!
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Apr 8, 2020 05:13
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The Misunderstood War When the aliens made first contact with humanity, their ambassador stepped off the ship, resplendent in his ceremonial robes. The ambassador smiled beatifically at the crowd. Then, out of nowhere, the alien ambassador pulled out a pistol and shot the Earth representative square in the chest! The panicked crowd fled in terror as the alien ambassador began to seek out every human he could find and shoot them in the same manner. Alien ships made landings in all of Earth's major cities. Hundreds of aliens poured out and started shooting people in the chest! Humanity regrouped, formed a resistance and fought back. A terrible war raged between the two planets. Nearly a century later, the leader of the Combined Earth Forces stood atop the wreckage of the alien's capital city and surveyed the devastation. "We finally wiped them out," said the general. An aide ran up to him. "Sir, look what I found in one of their libraries!" said the aide. Over the years of conflict, humanity had learned to decipher the aliens' language. The general read the cover. It was some sort of etiquette book. The first chapter was titled "Formal Greetings." The general flipped to the appropriate page and his face went pale. At the chapter heading was a picture of one alien shooting another alien in the chest. "They were saying hello," said the General, numbly. "Sir?" the aide was confused. "All this time, the aliens were only trying to say 'hello.'" Tears streamed down the general's face. "It turns out the real monster was humanity," said the aide, who was also crying. The End Applewhite fucked around with this message at 01:08 on Apr 10, 2020 |
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Apr 9, 2020 16:46
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Wow, that one really made me reconsider my prejudices.
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Apr 9, 2020 17:26
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Applewhite posted:The Misunderstood War What is good? What is evil? Impossible to say, but I can say that this one is art!
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Apr 9, 2020 17:31
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Post SCAREcity Breaking News! Billionaire and futurist Elbert Muscovy has announced that he has invented human cryogenics and intends to be the first man to journey into the distant future by freezing himself. "I've given instructions to be awakened in a future where humanity has finally achieved a post-scarcity society," announced Muscovy. "I will finally be able to witness the futuristic wonders that have so far only been written about in science fiction. Maybe I'll even discover that my company, Volta Automotive, makes a brand of flying cars!" There was staccato clatter of camera flashbulbs as the assembled crowd of reporters bombarded the eccentric billionaire with questions. **500 Years Later** Elbert's consciousness returned gradually. He was in a soft bed that was the warmest and most comfortable bed he'd ever slept in. The last thing he remembered seeing was the glare of the hospital florescents as he was administered the general anesthesia that preceded the cryogenic process. Now he was looking up at a cream-colored ceiling lit by what appeared to be natural light. "Wh-where am I?" asked Elbert. His voice was a dry croak. "Welcome to the future, Mr. Muscovy." A doctor loomed into view. "I'm Doctor Pancake." The doctor's garb didn't appear especially futuristic. Had something gone wrong? "What year is it? How long was I asleep?" asked Elbert, trying to suppress his apprehension. "By your calendar, it is the year 2520, though we measure time from the date of the Great Reform," said Doctor Pancake. "This year we are celebrating the hundredth anniversary of the new economic system that has eliminated poverty, hunger, and want worldwide." "So I made it!" Elbert's heart soared. "The human race has finally achieved a post-scarcity society?" "Yes it has, largely thanks to you," said the doctor. "Thanks to me?" Elbert could barely suppress his giddiness. "Was it one of my many inventions? Or the enlightened example set by my corporations?" "There'll be time for all that later, for now you must rest," said the doctor. "The cryo-process you underwent was very primitive and it will take time for your body to recover." Elbert didn't have time to object before his consciousness faded once again. When he next awoke, Elbert felt much better. Dr. Pancake was standing by. "Are you ready to go out and witness the wonders of the future world?" asked Dr. Pancake. "I thought you'd never ask!" Elbert sprang out of bed and dressed in the clothes provided. He noticed the fabric felt soft, like natural cotton. Synthetic fibers must have advanced by leaps and bounds over the past few centuries. Muscovy thought. Elbert's first case of future shock came when he stepped out of the hospital into the quiet street. Far from being the bustling futuristic metropolis he had expected, this place looked more like a sleepy New England town! How was this possible? Then Elbert realized what must be going on. "Ah, I see, you've recreated a small town from the twenty-first century to help me ease into the future," said Elbert. "This isn't a recreation, you're looking at a modern community," said Dr. Pancake. Muscovy was taken aback. "It looks almost like it did in the twenty-first century!" Elbert exclaimed. If anything, it looked less sophisticated technologically. There were no cars, for instance, electric or otherwise. The only vehicles Elbert saw were bicycles and cable-trolleys. The doctor laughed. "I suppose it probably does." "Look, is this some kind of prank?" Elbert asked. "I've only been in cryo-stasis for a few months, right?" "Not at all." Dr. Pancake shook his head. "You've been asleep for five centuries." "Impossible!" Elbert felt his voice rising. "Where are the skyscrapers? The jetpacks? The lasers? Why isn't there a single car on the street? Everyone should be driving a Volta hovercar by now!" Dr. Pancake chucked condescendingly. "Ah yes, forgive me. I hadn't realized the depth of the twenty-first century's misconception of 'progress.'" "You promised to show me the wonders of the future," Elbert snapped. "But there's nothing here I didn't have in my own time!" "Indeed, in fact, there is quite a bit less," said Dr. Pancake. "I don't understand," Muscovy held his temples. He was beginning to develop a headache. "Have a look around," Dr. Pancake suggested. "Take a deep breath." Muscovy did so. The air was crisp and fresh. "Notice there is no trash in the street. The sky is free of pollution. All the buildings are in good repair. There are no signs of poverty or want." Dr. Pancake gestured to the quiet, idyllic surroundings. "If you went anywhere in the world, you would find no war, no starvation, no disease or crime to speak of. Everybody is happy and fulfilled." "But how?" cried Elbert. "Where is all the technology? Where are all the factories? There's got to be some high-tech civilization supporting all these people." "You imagine a post-scarcity society to be one where there is such an abundance of consumer goods that everyone can take as much as they want," said Dr. Pancake. "A world of endless growth." "Exactly," said Elbert. "You could only achieve that with a high tech industrial infrastructure." Dr. Pancake's eyes were sad. "Even in your time, your civilization had all the tools it needed to eliminate poverty, hunger, starvation and war," said the doctor. "We've achieved a post-scarcity society, not by perpetuating the exploitative, wasteful excesses of capitalism, but by learning to be happy with what we had and not to take more than we needed. We didn't eliminate scarcity by overwhelming it with plenty, but by learning to exercise self-restraint." "No!" Elbert cried. "You can't mean—" "Indeed," Dr. Pancake nodded. "Consumerism is dead. Industry has been dismantled. Mankind lives in harmony with nature and with itself." "B-but you said I helped to build this future?" Elbert stammered. "I was a champion of technological progress, I was a captain of industry. How did I contribute to this world?" "Isn't it obvious?" Now Dr. Pancake's smile was sardonic. "By leaving it." "Noooooooo!" Elbert dropped to his knees. "You maniacs! drat you! drat you all to hell!" Dr. Pancake's laughter rang in Muscovy's ears. The End Applewhite fucked around with this message at 01:10 on Apr 10, 2020 |
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Apr 9, 2020 20:47
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O man if there's a next chapter it should be them thawing him out only to put him on trial and punish him for crimes against humanity which by the way has no statute of limitations
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Apr 9, 2020 21:19
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BoldFrankensteinMir posted:Day of the Nightstriders, Part II I really hope the kids are going to be okay 
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Apr 10, 2020 03:27
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LETTERS TO THE EDITOR My continuous exclusion from your newsletter leads me to believe that Awfully Weird Tales is in league with the geologists. I will no longer be submitting my research, nor will I furthermore assist with your numerous and bizarre surveys. Good day.
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Apr 10, 2020 04:31
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Shitlock Holmes and the Mystery of the Fishy Fart Abby picked up her phone and called Shitlock Holmes, world famous detective. "You need to help me, big time," she rasped, "somebody farted so bad and it stinks!" "Say no more, ma'am. I'll be there very super quick." Shitlock's big cool car is very fast and he smoked a pipe on the way there. He arrived in mere minutes! Abby welcomed him in the door and into her den, where sat her three other friends, Toby, Abby 2 and Jerome. They all greeted him with a handshake. Shitlock sniffed about, "It smells like poo poo. poo poo and fish! Interesting." He pulls out a magnifying glass and started looking at the carpet and cabinets and poo poo. Jerome wailed, "Please, it stinks so bad, make it stop!" Abby 2 broke down into tears as Toby consoled her, adding, "It started not more than ten minutes ago. We had beef meat dinner with sticks of butter and a pig's soggy rear end in a top hat. Nothing at all piscine!" Shitlocked circled the room, examining everyting with his super loving cool eyeglass and pitched a foot on the hearth. He puffed his pipe and ruminated a few moments on the facts. Shitlock smirked and snapped his fingers, "I've got it!" Abby, Toby, Abby 2 and Jerome all looked shocked and begged him for the answer! "It was me you stupid gently caress heads, I farted outside your stupid window after I ate that supermarket sushi! You called me on my cell phone while i was still out there eating! Shitlock lifts a leg and unfurls a fart so heinous, everybody gagged, including Shitlock! "What the gently caress?" Shitlocked pushed over books and poo poo off the mantle for cover and ran out the door and was never caught.
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Apr 10, 2020 04:58
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The Cursed Time Traveling Videogame One day, Somethingawful Forums Poster Applewhite bought a new video game. "I'm just going to play this new videogame for a few minutes," said Applewhite He sat down and played the videogame for what felt like a few minutes. "That was fun, but now it's time to stop and attend to my business on Somethingawful dot com!" said Applewhite. But Applewhite was shocked to discover a full seven days had passed! "Nooooooooooooooooooooo!" Applewhite screamed.
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Apr 16, 2020 23:15
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Apr 16, 2020 23:56
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Apr 18, 2020 23:37
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Awesome!!!
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Apr 18, 2020 23:44
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Holy poo poo that’s amazing!
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Apr 19, 2020 00:35
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Thanks! I may not do them all myself but I will guarantee a cover illustration for all installments we put into the Comedy Goldmine, even if I have to commission them. Keep writing, goons, and maybe your story will be next!
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Apr 19, 2020 00:59
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BoldFrankensteinMir posted:Thanks! I may not do them all myself but I will guarantee a cover illustration for all installments we put into the Comedy Goldmine, even if I have to commission them. Keep writing, goons, and maybe your story will be next! I’d better get “hot” on this!
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Apr 19, 2020 01:41
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The Tale of the Frog and the Scorpion There was once a scorpion who needed to cross a river. He looked all around for a bridge and, finding none, called out to a nearby frog for help. "Please mister frog, would you carry me across this river on your back?" asked the Scorpion. "How do I know you won't sting me once you're on my back?" asked the frog. "Because if I stung you, then you'd sink and we'd both drown," replied the scorpion. "That makes sense," said the frog. The kind frog let the scorpion climb onto his back and started swimming across the river. When they were halfway across the river, the scorpion stung the frog. "Why did you do that?" cried the frog, who could feel his guts swelling up with poison. "Because this fable is just a thinly-veiled attempt to justify bigoted attitudes," replied the scorpion. "That's terrible!" said the frog. "It sure is," agreed the scorpion. The End
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Apr 20, 2020 01:30
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Bruce Randall: Dumbest Man In The World Bruce Randall was the dumbest man in the world. Certainly, there were stupider men out there, but anyone who spent 5 minutes with the man knew: he was the dumbest man in the world. One day, Bruce was playing near some railroad tracks, when a train went by. "Golly, I'd like to ride in one of those one day." Torn between a childlike glee at seeing the machine in action, and a terrible depression that he was not currently riding it, Bruce suddenly had an idea. "Why don't I hop on?" he thought thickly to himself. "I could be a hobo!" the more he thought about the idea, the better it seemed. Running along side the train, Bruce waited for just the right time, and jumped in to a passing box car. "Ho there!" he heard, and was astonished by the sight before him. An extraordinarily fat man lounged in the corner of the box car, on a gargantuan chair lined with gold and diamonds. "Are you ready to start your hobo life?" Bruce nodded excitedly. "Have you shed your worldly connections?" Bruce frowned at this question. "What's that?" "Your family, your belongings, your job.. the things that have held you back your whole life." "But... I like my family!" A worried look crossed Bruce's face. "Do you know what it is to be a hobo?" the huge man asked. "... No." "Then I am afraid, young sir, that you may not become a hobo." With a woosh, Bruce was flung out of the box car. Brushing himself off, Bruce thought, "I suppose my life is good enough already. I guess I'll head to my highly paid government job now."
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Apr 20, 2020 10:20
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The Curse of the Mummy's Curse "Mr. Garavan, we've removed the seal from the door, you can now enter the tomb of Pharaoh Anhotuktep." "Excellent, I'm sure that incredible riches await us, gentlemen!" The men walked through the stone archway covered with hieroglyphics, unaware of what they might find before them. Garavan lifted the torch in his hand high to light the room. The dim light cast weird shadows about the tiny room, shadows which danced and leapt with each flicker of flame. "It's beautiful, Carnes, absolutely beautiful! We'll both be incredibly rich!" The light finally reached the sarcophagus, the final resting place of the great King of Egypt. It was already open, the body missing. Odd, given that the room was sealed so tight and no other treasures were touched. Had grave robbers merely taken the body and left behind gold, jewels, and countless other treasures? Carnes began to feel the hairs on the back of his neck perk up, he was nervous. Something seemed wrong. Suddenly he heard something moving in the darkness behind him and Garavan. It sounded like a dry branch being dragged across the ground. Carnes wheeled around and was sure he saw something dart behind a stone pillar. "Garavan, move your torch over there, my friend. I think there's something hiding behind that pillar!" Garavan gave him an incredulous look but move the torch as asked, then began to circle around the pillar. Nothing. "It's the air in here Carnes, it's been sealed up for centuries. Does a number on the brain, makes a normal man start to see things." "I suppose you're right, my nerves have just gotten to me. A spot of whiskey tonight should calm me down. Let's start cataloging these items, then get to work securing the site." Suddenly, a mummy burst forth from the shadows. "Good lord!", yelled Carnes. Garavan ran for the door, dropping his torch on the way. The shadows shifted and changed, and the mummy was illuminated from below. Rotten bandages were wrapped tight around a leathery corpse. Bits of skin stuck to the bandages in places, and the whole body smelled of spices. Carnes was reminded of Christmas dinners, then felt like he would vomit at the thought. The mummy extended one incredibly skinny arm, loose bandages hanging down almost to his waist. His fingers hung downward and Carnes could make out every joint, poking out of the shiny, mummified skin. Even in his terror, he couldn't turn off the scientific part of his brain. The mummy's hand turned to face palm up, then it curled up its fingers. All except for the middle finger. Carnes stared, dumbfounded, as the mummy then kicked forward with one dessicated, bony leg. The kick connected with Carnes' midsection, and he felt the bony toes hit him deep in his doughy stomach. He doubled over in shock and pain, exactly what the mummy wanted. The mummy then turned his back to the shocked archaeologist, wrapped one arm around his neck, leapt into the air, and dropped down to a sitting position. Although nobody else in the world saw it, the mummy had just performed a picture perfect Stone Cold Stunner. Content, the mummy crawled back to his tomb as Carnes writhed in pain. He finally composed himself several minutes later and ran, screaming, from the tomb. They boarded up the entrance then and destroyed all the maps leading to the burial palace, praying that the sands of time would once again bury this palace of the dead. Deep in his dark resting place, Pharaoh Anhotuktep slept contentedly, ready to strike at anyone else who dared disturb his final resting place.
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Apr 20, 2020 13:55
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A Fancy Hat posted:The Curse of the Mummy's Curse Legit cracking up at the idea of a mummy just physically assaulting anyone who disturbs his tomb, rather than wasting time on elaborate curses.
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Apr 20, 2020 16:18
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The Satellite Man from Planet 5G Crowds packed Earth Central Spaceport to catch a glimpse of the man from Planet 5G. He was due to arrive on the noon rocket. The first man from 5G ever to visit earth. "I wonder what he looks like," wondered Sally Persnippet. Sally was a hairdressing machine operator who'd ridden a hundred miles by autobus to see the man from 5G. "I hear the people on 5G are twenty feet tall," said Guster Bogart. Guster ran the laser threading turbine at the atomic power station. "Twenty feet tall? Golly!" said Sally Persnippet. "Imagine how big his penis must be!" "If he's twenty feet tall, how would he fit in the rocket?" asked Jimmy Toodles. Jimmy sold algae cigarettes on the street corner. Frank Oberhorst, who'd worked as a porter at Earth Central for twenty five years and had seen rockets come and go hundreds of times, laughed at the rubes who'd come to see the man from 5G. "Men from 5G is just the same as men everywhere else," said Frank. "You'll see." "I bet he's got six arms and eyes like a bug," said Jimmy. Frank just shook his head. The public address chimed. "Twelve O'Clock Rocket flight from planet 5G is now arriving at landing pad six," said the announcing robot. The robot had a sultry woman's voice. At last the long-awaited moment had arrived. Everyone pressed close to the terminal door. Dads lifted their children up on their shoulders and shorter people stood on tiptoe to see. First came the other passengers. The crowd booed at them, urging them to get out of the way, they wanted to see the man from 5G! The police came out next. They beat the crowd back with electric prods and nerve lashes to clear a path for the man from 5G. The crowd booed at them as well, but grudgingly stepped back to make room. Finally, the man from 5G appeared at the top of the gangplank. The crowd gasped. The man from 5G was not twenty feet tall, he didn't have six arms or bug eyes. In almost every way, he was an ordinary man. He wore a tan suit and aviator sunglasses. His mustache was blond. His gray necktie flapped in the wind. Perfectly ordinary. Except he had a satellite dish sticking out of his forehead. "What's that, some kind of antenna?" asked Guster Bogart. "Do you think his penis has a satellite dish, too?" Sally Persnippet shuddered. "Do you think he can read our thoughts?" wondered Jimmy Toodles. "He'd better not read my thoughts!" Sally Persnippet blushed in horror. A frisson of unease rippled out through the crowd. By the time the man from 5G had stepped off the gangplank onto the hot concrete of the landing pad, the unease had exploded into full-blown panic. Women screamed, babies wailed, there was a press of bodies as people stampeded in every direction to escape the monster from the stars and his mysterious satellite dish. Poor Frank Oberhorst was trampled to death by the fleeing mob. "Panic at Earth Central Spaceport!" blared all the headlines. Concerned citizens all over the planet voiced their distress. "I don't want 5G harming me or my family with its sinister radio men!" Shelda Kierkegaard told reporters. Earth's most popular hyperwave-radio host, Harrison Bunt, poured his vitriol out over the airwaves. "I'm telling you folks, this 'satellite man' as people are calling him—he's bad news! Just look what his mind control rays did to that crowd!" ranted Harrison, perspiring audibly into the microphone. Earth's politicians were quick to respond. They opened an investigation into 5G and legislation was introduced to the Planetary Congress to regulate mind-reading technology. Frank Oberhorst's death became a rallying point for the planet's fear. "Justice for Frank!" cried a furious man as he threw a Molotov cocktail through the window of a satellite dish store. Riots broke out all over the planet. Millions of credits worth of trade goods were destroyed as angry mobs set fire to the warehouses at Earth Central Spaceport. A gang of rioters tried to charge the rocketship that had carried the man from 5G to earth, but were cut down by the spaceport's robot guns. Throughout all this, the man from 5G was completely unaware of the chaos he had caused. An unmarked robo-limousine carried him to the Earth Central Hospital, the best hospital in all of the Human Gigemon. Police escorted the satellite man inside. "The operation room is prepped and ready, Mr. Henderson," the nurse told the man from 5G. "It's an honor to have you at our hospital." "I just hope you can get this thing out of my head," said Mr. Henderson from the planet 5G. "Ever since that explosion embedded this satellite dish in my forehead, I've had a terrible headache!" "Our doctors are the best in the Gigemon," the nurse assured him. The operation was a complete success. On his way back to Earth Central Station, Mr. Henderson made a detour to pick up some souvenirs at a local shopping mall. Without the satellite dish in his head, nobody recognized him. "What a pleasant visit I've had," said Mr. Henderson. In the distance, sirens wailed.
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Apr 21, 2020 20:23
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Beware the Mechatortoise The Mechatortoise trampled through the city, destroying everything in its path. Terrible beams lashed out from its eyes and sliced through buildings like a blowtorch cutting through tissue paper. "Can anything stop the terrible Mechatortoise?" cried the citizens. The military tried to detonate atomic mines underneath the Mechatortoise in an effort to flip it on its back, but the Mechatortoise just pulled its legs and head inside its shell and popped them out the other way up! The Mechatortoise continued its rampage, eventually destroying all of earth's civilization. "To think, mankind with all its proud achievements would be laid low by a humble Mechatoroise," said Timothy.
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Apr 21, 2020 20:32
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The following is an excerpt from Ayn Rand's unpublished fourth novel Monument Peak. The manuscript was believed lost after Ayn Rand's Manhattan townhouse burned down following an incident where she fell asleep with a lit cigarette in her hand. Recent excavations of the site revealed portions of the manuscript that miraculously survived the fire. Monument Peak By Ayn Rand Chapter 1 of 4970 "What is a man?" wondered Gambort Triumphus. Gambort was a tall man with a face that looked as if it had been carved from pure gold. His hair and eyes were gold as well. He was the richest man on earth. "Man is the ultimate evolution of money," said Gambort. Gambort was always right about everything. Gambort surveyed the pyramid his workers were constructing. The original pyramids had been build by slaves, but this pyramid was being built by paid workers, compensated fairly for their labor by US dollars. He watched them swarming over the worksite, working together in a manner that only humans could achieve. At the moment, the pyramid was only a square foundation, but that foundation was already twenty times the square footage of the Great Pyramid at Giza. "I shall name this pyramid 'Monument Peak,'" said Gambort. One of the workers, a slimy little turd of a man called Slim Turdstein, sidled up to Gambort. "Sir," cringed Turdstein, "a few of us workers were talking and we've agreed not to work anymore until you implement some safety regulations at the job site." Gambort's expression was as cold as ice, in a voice as frosty and steely as an ice dagger, he said "You dare to question the working conditions to which you agreed when you signed your work contract?" "Well, sir, it's just a lot of workers have been injured—" Turdstein whined. Gambort silenced him with one steely blast of his golden gaze. "You have already accepted compensation for your labor, and now you demand that I take responsibility for the incompetence of a few laborers?" bellowed Gambort. "I—I—I—" Turdstein stammered. "Your employment is terminated herewith," said the heroic Gambort.
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Apr 21, 2020 21:25
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Later, Turdstein sues Gambort for wrongful termination. Much of the novel revolves around the battle of wits between the cringing Turdstein and the mighty Gambort.
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Apr 21, 2020 21:27
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The Court of the Spider "John Willoughby, before you can enter Heaven, your entry must be approved by all the beings you knew in life," said the Judge of Eternity. John Willoughby was a humble man. He bowed his head reverently to the judge and said, "I understand, your honor. I have not always lived a perfect life, but I've always done my best to do right by everyone I met." "We shall see," said the Judge. The Judge of Eternity waved his gavel and an old woman appeared at the witness stand. "Granny!" exclaimed Willoughby. "Hello, dearie," said Willoughby's Grandmother. "Josephine Willoughby, will you attest to the character of John Willoughby?" asked the Judge. "Of course," nodded Josephine. "Johnny was always such a good and kind boy." The judge nodded. The testimonies proceeded. Everyone John had ever met that had preceded him into the afterlife took the stand. "John helped me across the street when he was a Boy Scout," an old lady told the court. "John gave me his ice cream cone when mine fell on the ground," attested an old school friend. "Mr. Willoughby always gave me a generous tip," said the green grocer. "Mr. Willoughby was the employee I'd ever had. A real hard worker," said his old boss. On and on, every person Willoughby had ever met, however briefly, gave their account of John Willoughby's generosity and kindness. The procession took hours, but—being dead and all—John discovered he never grew tired or hungry. When the last person stepped down from the stand, Willoughby breathed a sigh of relief. After such glowing testimony from so many hundreds of people, he would surely be allowed into Heaven! "Call the next witness," said the Judge. The next witness? Willoughby looked around, but the stand was empty. "State your name for the record," said the Judge. Who was he talking to? Willoughby stood up to get a better angle and was shocked to see a small raccoon had taken the stand! "Uhh, Rosie Raccoon," said a nervous voice. "Can you tell us about how Mr. John Willoughby affected your life?" asked the Judge. "Uh, yes. He ran me over with his car," said the Raccoon. "W-what's going on?" Willoughby stammered. "Why are you interviewing a raccoon?" "We gather the testimony from every being whose life you affected," said the Judge. The Judge turned back to Rosie Raccoon. "Proceed with your tesimony," said the Judge. Rosie was practically in tears. "A-after I died, there was no one to feed my babies," sobbed the raccoon. "They all died." "How many babies?" asked the Judge. "Six," cried the distraught mother. John stammered to try and interrupt. The Judge ignored him. "Would you say John Willoughby was responsible for the death of your babies?" asked the Judge. "Absolutely," sobbed Rosie. "Wait a minute, this isn't fair!" John objected. "Everyone in this court gets to voice their testimony," said the Judge. "You'll get your chance to be heard." After that, a parade of animals took the stand. Some, like several squirrels, gave positive testimony. "He fed us some nuts from his trail mix once," said the squirrels. John's childhood pet, Spot, tried to help, but wasn't quite so helpful as he'd hoped. "He always patted me and gave me treats and he hardly ever beat me," said Spot. "He beat you?" the Judge asked for clarification. "O-only when I was bad!" said Spot. "I deserved it!" To try and steer things in a more positive direction, Spot said, "He always took me on walks! I got plenty of exercise!" "He took you on walks?" asked the Judge. "Yes, he put the leash on me—" "Sorry, 'leash?'" the Judge cocked his head. "It was a rope around my neck to make sure I didn't wander too far away," explained Spot, panting now in lieu of sweat. "I see. So he kept you in the house except when you needed to use the bathroom, then he tied a rope around your neck and let you outside just long enough to void yourself?" said the Judge. "Well uh..." Spot tugged at his collar. John buried his face in his hands. It was all downhill from there. "John smashed me when I tried to get a drink of blood for my eggs," was the story told by about a thousand mosquitos. "John crushed Colony Sector 41-B," said worker ant A27B69987989D. "That tunnel complex took generations to build and he crushed it just like that. I was in charge of the first responders. We were pulling bodies out of the rubble for days..." "Squashed me while I was trying to cross the sidewalk..." "Chased me out of the house..." "Flicked me off his shoulder when I was only pausing there to rest my weary wings..." John could only listen with mounting fear and rage as every insect he'd ever stepped on, swatted, drowned or poisoned took the stand to tell their story. A trembling, shellshocked spider took the stand. Her eyes were wide with sorrow. "I made a web under an old barbecue grill," said the spider. "I planted three eggsacs there because it looked like that place would be safe from predators." "And was it?" asked the judge. "No..." said the spider. "What happened?" asked the Judge. "John found us," said the spider. "He found me first. He'd come out to grill the meat of some animals and he spotted me tending to my web. I was just minding my own business..." The spider paused. "Take your time," said the Judge. "He... he took a grill lighter out of the pocket of his apron and—" The spider choked, unable to control her tears. The judge offered her a tiny handkerchief. She blew her pediapalps noisily. "What happened next?" urged the judge. "He... he burned me with it," said the spider. The audience gasped. "My whole body was engulfed in flames. I tried to escape, but my legs burned off." The spider shivered. "He stopped burning me, maybe he thought I was dead, but I was still alive. I was alive to see what he did next." "And what did he do?" the Judge scowled. "He took the lighter and..." the spider sobbed. "He took the lighter and burned all my babies!" Even John couldn't hold in the tears when he heard the pain in the mama spider's voice. "I was helpless, I could only sit there and watch as he turned the fire on each of my eggsacs. I could hear their screams as they burned in their swaddling..." the spider was too distraught to continue after that. John Willoughby slumped back in his seat. His certain doom weighed on him like a panther on his shoulders. "John Willoughby," the Judge turned to John. "Do you have anything to say in your defense?" John tried to speak, but could not find his voice. The judge nodded. "Then I will now pass sentence." He stood, and the rest of the courtroom stood as well. "John Willoughby believed himself to be a good man, but as we have heard over these past several weeks, we see that he is nothing less than a cruel, sadistic psychopath. A mass murderer who would slaughter innocent children before the eyes of their own mother. John Willoughby, I sentence you to an eternity in Hell!" The bailiffs stepped forward and put cuffs on John Willoughby. As he was being led away, John finally found his voice. "Judge, has any man ever made it into Heaven?" he asked. The judge shook his head. "Not a single one." The End
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Apr 26, 2020 16:42
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Ice Ten "Oh no, I hope nobody spills this Ice Ten! It's even worse than Ice Nine!" said Sally. "I'm spilling it," said Joe. Joe was from Indiana. The Ice Ten fell into the ocean. Ten seconds later, the whole planet exploded. The End
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Apr 26, 2020 16:52
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Frankensteinsmonster "At last I, Dr. Frankensteinsmonster, have discovered the secret to creating life!" Dr. Frankensteinsmonster laughed as lightning flashed overhead. "Igor! Throw the switch!" bellowed Dr. Frankensteinsmonster. The humpbacked assistant flipped the massive knife switch into the "on" position. For wall-mounted knife switches oriented vertically, the "on" position should always be to the top so that the switch doesn't actually fall onto the contacts. This knife switch was installed correctly (it was a dual pole knife switch). Lightning bolts arced down into the lab, electrifying the cobbled together body on the slab and bringing it to life! "Urnghhhh!" grunted the monster, sitting up and lumbering around the laboratory. "Igor, bring the Champagne! Tonight we celebrate the dawn of a new era of science!" Dr. Frankensteinsmonster declared. "Unless it's from the Champagne region of France, it's technically only sparkling wine," grunted the monster. Dr. Frankensteinsmonster's eye twitched. "Igor, bring the sparkling wine!" he yelled. A villager peeking into the window of the castle screamed when he saw Dr. Frankensteinsmonster's creation. "Aaaah! A Frankenstein's Monster!" he yelled. "Actually I'm Frankensteinsmonster's monster," the monster corrected him. "Aaaah!" screamed the villager. Igor came back with the sparkling wine on a silver tray, along with three glasses and a Nintendo GameBoy. "I thought perhaps the master would like to relax and enjoy some Super Mario Land 2?" suggested Igor. "In Japan it was originally called Doki Doki Panic," said the monster. "What kind of abomination have I created?" lamented Dr. Frankensteinsmonster. "Oh the depths I've fallen to!" "You mean, 'oh the depths to which I've fallen,'" corrected Frankensteinsmonster's Monster. "Auuugh!" Dr. Frankensteinsmonster wailed. But his nightmare had only just begun. "In Star Trek, nobody ever actually says the line 'beam me up, Scotty,'" roared Dr. Frankensteinsmonster's Monster. The End(?) Applewhite fucked around with this message at 16:52 on Apr 27, 2020 |
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Apr 27, 2020 16:49
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Applewhite posted:Frankensteinsmonster Genius.
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Apr 27, 2020 18:36
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Fantasia Finalé 7 Re:Part Deux Red XIV's dog boner still hasn't come down from when they first met him in Prof. Pogo's experimentation lab. At least he wasn't sulking now as he was chasing dream rabbits in the red dust of Astro Canyon. The red sun held barely above the horizon was making a convincing impression of the canyon's bands of brick sand lining its gorges. The huge telescope lens crowning Bugenhozen's observatory perched at the peak of Astro Canyon was angled at someone's bedroom window. After a hard day of tour-guiding and selling tourist paraphernalia, most of the residents have already retired to their admissible caves and dugouts at the various levels of the canyon's bluff and only a solitary campfire burned in the town center for an unlikely group of adventurers. A blond spiky-haired young man was laying closest to the raging fire embracing a comically-large ornate teaspoon which he had crudely sharpened on one side 'to better fights the monsters' in the 'wilderness'. Sleep was turbulent for this young man, as there was someone tormenting him in it telling him he sucks poo poo. Next to the young man's sleeping mat that was now VERY warm from the campfire, lay a large man with a Hells Angels tattoo on his shoulder and a belt-sander mounted to his hand. Nobody knew the man's name because he always referred to himself as Daddy, but everyone just called him Sandy. In the ladies area - behind a row of standing slabs of earth lay Teefah on her side. Her gaze was fixated on the boy laying by the fire, but her mind was elsewhere. She had assumed this position a while back and was now a streaming brook of squeaks and mews as her gloved hand worked wistfully underneath her leather miniskirt. Her newly-minted adventuring friend Aeristh audibly sighed, got up from her mat and scooted over behind the girl. "Look I'm gonna drop the good-girl act now as we're far enough from the city and it's always cramping my style when I work. You've been acting like a utter whore around this loving trog, and I get that there's some history between you two from what you've told me, but babes how long its going is some pathetic poo poo performance acting." "But, but Clod - we were childhood friends... more than that," without turning around Teefah quietly teared up in her sleeve. "All these years I - I waited for him to come back... seven long years, and even though he doesn't remember me, I know deep inside somewhere deep inside he still, he still loves me. I - I just know this and I want to love him in return!" A visibly annoyed Aeristh expostulated, "Shut the gently caress up you dumb slut. Don't you see that your clammed-up little Clod's been lobotomized by the Söldner?" The unconscious Clod spasmed sporadically on his sleeping mat while kicking up small red clouds of sacred canyon dirt, "YAAA come back Chococos!!" Teefah's bereaved facial purge once again began messing up her white tank top as Clod's synthetic sleeping mat was readily melting under him. "You see slut, you're dumb to think he's coming back to you," Aeristh snapped and began to tug on the back of Teefah's disheveled brown mop while reaching around to prune her bush with an equally strong and forceful hand. "So wet already, and I haven't even given you permission..." Aeristh constricted her well-manicured masonry fingers around Teefah's drenched white panties and pulled back to meet the other fistful. Aeristh vision was swimming but she let go of her seized prey's tangled locks and lewdly ran her palm over Teefah's salivating aspect of ahegao which was already in full sprint, and then over her neck making sure to stop and pause both her slow slithering hand movements and Teefah's ragged breath. "You're such a sub and a slut, Teefah," Aeristh clawed paw kneaded Teefah's heavy breast painfully cramped into the confines of her taut black jockbra. "I knew from the moment I saw you in the red lights of Walmarkt, dolled up like the scankiest nympho slut that saving yourself for Clod all these years has not been kind to you. Poor Teefah, so much time gone - so many desires unfulfilled." "But it's alright now, you're Mistress Aeristh' toy now, especially your rear end." Aeristh's thumb exited Teefa's chestnut bush and meandered a couple inches higher. In a swift practiced clawing motion the ghetto flower girl had full physical and conscious control turning her playmate into her servant. After the subsiding initial shock, Teefah pushed her back closer to her supportive friend, "Mmmh, yes I am your... buttslut now, Mmm... *groan* M-Mistress A-Aeristh". Teefah began to melt in her warm embrace as Aeristh picked up the pace. "Good girl, and make sure to enunciate the 'esses' when addressing me now." Aeristh blew hot air into Teefa's deafening ears as the other's hands and knees were beginning to buckle under the onslaught of her new dom's pistoning hands. Lightning strikes and good vibes were hitting Teefah all over inside her body. But before she could be satiated and fall to the ground, Aeristh pulled away all her awesome crude pleasures mid-stroke and harshly flipped the drooping mess onto her back before letting her own pink blouse float up in the air. She pulled her airy lace aside and dropped her dewy snatch on top of her half-passed out new toy. "Dinner's served slut!" grinned Aeristh as she repeatedly mashed the poor girl's face into her navel. "Oi mates now that one garbed bird is stranglin' the other with her twat!" from behind the bushes an excited voice came. "Honorable Knights, do please keep your idle chatter down so we may continue to witness this ardent display of lesbianic passion," the hush of another Knight of the Circlejeck was met with approving nods and a single grunt. "Ohh f-fuckk, I'm almost ready f-for dessert..." Aeristh pressed Teefah's face close to her prim oval office and bucked against it. "Whoosh... that wash shome sheleshtial poo poo my endowed friend, Clod's really mishing out with his amneshia or lobotomy or someshing," coughed Aeristh breathlessly in a weird accent perched precariously atop of Teefah's exposed zeppelins. "Shay... gently caress, say since you've been so good might the butt-slut want a slice of her own dessert from the Mistress, hmm?" Teefah tried to say something at the pink-clad demure figurine silhouetted atop of her against the evening sky, but the only thing that came out through her glassed face was an silly open-mouthed grin. "What, the butt-slut wants the dessert? Fine." Aeristh reached for her purse that was just close enough without getting off her high horse, and popped the brushed nickel button. From one of the dark pockets she began to pull out a string of colorful beads increasing in size, green, yellow, blue, and finally a conspicuously large red one. "H-hey... aren't those the materia you've been using today Aeristh?" smiled Teefah coming of out of her daze. "Why yes my lovely, I've been leveling this materia all day, so it's nice and warm for you." With a gleeful borderline sadistic smirk the slim girl bent down to embrace her muscular partner and began wetly slopping the insides of her mouth. She would rub the string of beads between their glistening contrasting busts and roll it around between each other hot tongues. Without coming out of Teefah's mouth, she slinked the glazed rainbow down, down, and to Teefah's muffles gasp easily popped the smallest green one in. Teefah moaned and squirmed under her as Aeristh tapped and played with her polished nail against the next yellow materia. And another went in as Aeristh tried to hold her balance atop of the bucking martial artist. "I call this the Big Boy Blue," she fondled the blue materia in her palm, "Because I couldn't be hosed to remember what it actually does haha!" Aeristh giggled. "Does my butt-slave need encouragement with it?" Teefah nodded continuously at Aeristh while a low rumbling sound began to emanate from her throat like that of a Bizarro Catto. Aeristh began to gyrate back and forth on Teefa's toned slippery abs and massaged Teefah's throat harder and harder until the muscle-girl's visage began to turn pink. With one hand on Teefah's throat and another on the blue materia the two stimulated the growling nympho in synchrony until one end of her was light mauve and the other noticeably fuller. The girls came suddenly and hard - both twitching in their respective positions until collapsing into a drizzling geyser. They quietly lay on top of a single sleeping roll in a wet and gasping sandwich. "Hey whacha ya'll doin' 'ere yun'lings?!" the blue-robed gray-bearded chief Bugenhozen zoomed from behind a rock and nearly toppled off his floating green orb over the two moist minxes. "Ho'gently caress is that the fourth huge materia, that's a great find girlie! My sight isn't what it used to be, but I'd recognize a huge materia even in the twilight of my evening walk. Your blonde half-wit boy over there Clod, already has three of 'em in his satchel and was lamenting to me earlier how the fourth one's not at Fort Kestrel. I tol' that boy he was dumber that a feral Farticorn and he ought to go back an' look for it in the mornin'." Aeristh rolled off and colorfully and quietly damned all of the Holy under her breath. Teefah's eyes were rolled back and her breathing shallow. "But that's a great find girlie, let me just cast a quickie spell and give that boy Clod the summon he needs to show those Selfie and Geneva folks where the Farticorns overwinter." As the old village chief windmilled his arms around and chanted clearly Satanic verses at the starry sky, the three dragonballs in Clod's bag and the red one on the end of Teefah's string began to glow and vibrate. The red ball hummed and hovered a few inches above the ground and suddenly the groggy girl began to feel herself being pulled across the sandy outcrop towards the guys' sleeping area closer to the campfire. The old man finished his chant and for reasons beyond his memory he felt satisfied with himself - but then he remembered that it was because he was out on his evening walk, so he ushered his floating sphere further down the canyon in hopes of making his round trip by bedtime. The three dragonballs in the bag and the fourth one attached to Teefah shot up in a brilliant beam of light leagues above the campfire, higher and higher before beginning to metastasize into a grandiosely dangerous shape. "Aw gently caress no... gently caress this!" jumped Aeristh to her senses and her belongings before throwing a belt around a nearby climbing rope and deftly scrambling down a pitch-dark crevasse. The blazing white shape in the sky had finished its transformation and was now a very absolute hovering motherfucking space-dragon with twelve gratuitous wings protruding from its back. Bobohum - the dangerous and powerful summon only known to exist in legends before man and mer. At once it flapped all its wings and shouted in the forsaken words of the Ayleids before unleashing its ultimate attack upon the tragic existence of Astro Canyon and all of its inhabitants and flying away to parts unknown with a very-disoriented Teefah screaming in tow. "loving lovely Corp, gently caress their climbing belt." Aeristh was coughing as she dusted herself off and slowly limped towards the crevasse opening feeling the bruises on her knees. The midnight moon was clear and consonant as Aeristh inhaled its light. "Guess gotta go in the direction that thing took my bitch, then kill Selfie," Aeristh refocused. Suddenly a grating noise came out of the inky darkness. "Quack! I'm a loving duck!" something croaked behind her and she spun around startled, clutching her staff at the ready. For a moment she thought that the herb pipe they smoked around the campfire earlier that evening has finally kicked in because there in front was standing a white three-foot duck drabbed in a studded leather vest. "...you're a gently caress-duck?" inquired the tired girl while shaking the staff in the monster's direction. "Yeah, gently caress!" quacked Donald Duck as he handed Aeristh the free end of the belt noosed around his neck. Nyan Bread fucked around with this message at 07:42 on May 1, 2020 |
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Apr 29, 2020 07:20
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An erotic masterpiece to be sure
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Apr 29, 2020 16:30
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-Keeping Up With the Chronoses Mrs Pabst was so livid she felt her heart would explode, she gripped the back of her husband's leather armchair so tightly she cracked one of her own fingernails, a dully distant thing compared to the pain of what she was witnessing. That tramp. That hussy. That Jezebelle. Mrs Pabst had never thought highly of Mrs. Presente- in total honesty, she hated her. The Presentes were quiet enough neighbors, minded their own business, kept a neat yard. But since the Pabsts had thrown a block Christmas party four years ago the ladies had fallen into an intense rivalry over the quality of their homes; when one got new pots the other would notice, when one renovated their herb garden the other would keep up until both yards were like professional nurseries, spitefully mirrored down a white picket fence. They had bought and ultimately commissioned increasingly prominent wind-chimes in the oddest sounding month Friendly Fields gated community had ever experienced. By this point their rivalry was a downright war at times, and had lined the pockets of more than one vacuum cleaner or automatic washing machine salesman. But that whore Cynthia Presente had just gone too drat far this time. Mrs Pabst grabbed her coat and ran to her car, not even bothering to close the front door in her furious haste. Gripping her husband's credit card she careened dangerously through traffic; nothing would stand between Mrs. Pabst and the store, the store where she knew that skank had bought hers. That place downtown with the weird stuff. The salesboy cleaning at MagickNick's Strange Electronics didn't so much sell a time machine to Mrs Pabst as he did scan a credit card in a hostage-type situation, a terrifyingly angry woman in a beehive haircut halfway out the door with her Chronoroni 220 home tachyonicizer when it went through. She abandoned the credit card and almost ran over the police officer trying to scold her for hopping a curb and bending a stop sign. She would not be stopped. As Mrs Pabst neared her house she saw a flash of light from over her fence. That bitch. Already showing off. Smashing through the closed garage door Mrs Pabst rolled out of the driver's seat like a woman possessed, unpacking the time machine roughly and discarding the box and instructions behind. She waved it over her head like a tribal woman with a skull as she climbed the deck, to better see into the neighbors' yard. "Well, looks like the whole neighborhood has time machine fever now, huh Cynthia..." began Mrs Pabst, but she stuttered and lost her train of speech when she could see into the Presente's back yard clearly. Scorched rings in intricate patterns from fence to fence terminated at where once had been a birdbath but was now a seven foot wide crater. Blood, bones, and bits of the dress she had seen on Mrs. Presente earlier were now stuck in the fence between the properties, various bits of which were on fire. For a moment Mrs Pabst was, to be brutally honest, overjoyed. That'll teach that stuck-up... but this moment passed suddenly as Mrs. Pabst realized, she held in her hands the same brand, from the same store... The Chronoroni 220 home tachyonicizer beeped and blinked across its spherical surface. Mrs Pabst had already been poking at it to get it turned on and whirring and glowing, to show it off of course. When it activated she had only had half a second to consider it as suddenly dangerous. --- Ten minutes earlier, Mrs Presente had just finished setting her new time machine up where she knew that busybody Mrs Pabst was sure to see it from her husband's den. On a little stone pedestal right next to the fountain, with a little cupid flourish under it that she liked. It looked good, blinking and whirring like it was, balanced on top of some decorative tumbled glass bits. Good and expensive. Much nicer looking than their yard. Suddenly, a portal in time opened, and Mrs Pabst, with her own blinking time machine, stepped through into Mrs Presente's back yard. Despite the strange circumstances (the portal was quite large, and noisy) both women realized the true significance. Unwitting as it was, Pabst had broken their long-cemented pact of hatred. Mrs Presente spared no time taking her sidearm from its holster and firing, six shots, just to be sure. It had finally happened. Trespassing. After all this poo poo, that's what it had come down to. That scum, that witch, that... Suddenly, a crash came from the Pabsts' garage. Mrs Presente, heart still pounding from her heroic defense against home invasion, staggered towards the fence just in time to see Mrs Pabst, somehow, burst through the garage door furiously, her own third time machine already blinking and blooping. Terrified, Presente fired, piercing the tachyoncizer and killing a shocked Pabst again. As the third time machine shuddered and fumed, the second one the other Pabst had brought through the portal (which was still there, and shuddering dangerously) started to do so as well. Mrs Presente tried to return to the birdbath to pick up her own time machine, but was disintegrated in the blast. BoldFrankensteinMir fucked around with this message at 02:40 on May 6, 2020 |
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May 6, 2020 02:35
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That's some classic Weird Tales shenanigans right there.
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May 6, 2020 03:14
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Applewhite posted:
Fukkn owns
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May 6, 2020 03:48
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