Vinnie Grett Dretching's page

Foe, A Fear, A Female Fear

gran rey de los gigolo is banned for ain't got no body.

Why do birds suddenly appear
Every time Betty is near?
Just like Hulk, they long to be
Close to Betty.

Where is Ranch Dretching for a good stabbing?

*poof of smoke, Poodle of the Shadows appears next to Snarky Poodle dressed in Dretching costume*

*Stab*

{appears on other side of Snarky in a thick cloud of pipeweed smoke} <Poink!> <Poink!> <Poink!> {'stabs' with the blunt end of a large turnip} <Poink!> <Poink!>...

Vinnie Grett Dretching was around here somewhere. But I'm not sure where he wandered off to.

{off to one side, giggling can be heard from a 5' square of pipeweed smoke} I'm MacGy-? MacDaddy? MickyD? PuffDiddy? no, darn it I'm McInventer Dude! Inventer of the Poodle-Skull Bong! Now I need to go on a munchie run for pizza rolls and little BBQ sausages...

We haven't seen him ... which is why we've built this effigy in an effort to channel him back to the Maelstrom.

<looks back at the wilting lettuce effigy>

Maybe we should animate the piecemeal chef ...

{lands with thump via Jackapult} Whoa, Dudez! {spots effigy} Are you making your own slaad? K3wl! Bet she won't be half as hawt as the slaad babe I just made with the Jack-dudez machine!

{pats self down} Aw, man! I lost my pipe! That's a bummer! {spots poodle skull, decides to make it into a bong}

Tabbouleh Slaad blinks a few times before shapeshifting into a more pleasing form.

*cough*

Yuk. I was having a perfectly pleasant day in the Maelstrom. How did I... Oh. I really hate it when I get processed through a food replicator. Where am I again?

LOL! I figured one of the Jacks would take over Tabbouleh, but Lynora is even better!

Whoa! {drops pipe in astonishment} I made A BABE!! Awesome! How did I do it though?

{scrambles onto Jackapult in order to get better look at machine} Hmmm, that pipe goes... wait, that conduit connects-? Is that a Jeffries Tube?! This would be easier to figure out if I was a little more clear-headed.

*giggle*

Silly. It's a type of salad.

Dudez. {spots Lynora-Jill} Whoa, major babeage.

{starts pushing random replicator buttons, pokes a little pipeweed into the input slot}

KABOOM!

{a vacant-eyed Tabbouleh Slaad steps out of the replicator}

Wooooooooooah!!! I got turned into a little blue girl!

Nah, it's just that dretchweed kicking in again. You're still a freaky looking clown-like thing.

{looks at hands, down at self} Whew, it's good to look normal again! {eyes smoking pipe suspiciously, shrugs shoulders, then goes back to smoking it}

Hey, you dudez look a lot like the Jack dudez. Did-, um, do-... {the lonely little thought deserts his skull and his question is forgotten}

Did I get shot again?

Negative.

Your molecules have been scattered into deep space with a transporter beam set to maximum dispersion.

Rats. I was expecting more lasers and Pink Floyd.

Wooooooooooah!!! I got turned into a little blue girl!

{reappears dragging dang hippeh} Dudez! I brought you a hippeh dude. Do something SyFy to him... {puts on paper 3D glasses, lights up pipe}

I'm not an illusion! I'm a hippeh!

{pops in} Heya dudez, country zombie dudez, mammah dudette. I need to borrow your hippeh- {grabs hippeh and disappears/reappears in PaizoMatrix thread}

Your Flawed understanding of Collective grammar is Irrelevant

{Jackapulted in} Dude, where am I? {glances around with heavily bloodshot eyes} Dudes? Who are you dudes? {lights "pipeweed"}

Excuse me a sec. Reaches over an 'accidently' bumps the Jackapult launch button, sending the stoner dretchling flying.

Malice stumbles by the Jackapult, nursing a Dark & Stormy. He leans against the launching mechanism, flinging Vinnie Grett over to the Slaad Thread.

OOPS! Sorry lil' dude!

{whizzing through the air} Whoa, that's some preemo ganga... it felt like I got launched twice. {faint contrail of pipeweed lingers behind him through the sky}

{wanders aimlessly through thread, with a stupid grin and severly bloodshot eyes}

Dude, that totally looks like a b*tch*n spot for a break. {climbs onto launching arm of Jackapult}

Huh huh huh ha huh {retrieves pipe from under DretchEx cap} It's 4:20 somewhere.

Devlyn walks back down the road and onto the rolling party's site. He notes the new modifications to the bus with an approving nod, as he goes over to the bar and proceeds to start mixing Dark & Stormy shots with some absinthe...

{pops in puff of a noxious weedy smoke} DretchEx delivery.

{goes over the Devlyn, looks at him with slightly unfocused, completely bloodshot eyes} You look like the right dude... here- {hands him a note smelling strongly of "pipeweed" from contact with the dretch}

Devlyn,

Best wishes,
Eekster

{appears with package, speaks in monotone:} DretchEx delivery. Package for a C.D. Poodle.

{leaves a brown-paper wrapped Frenchie-shaped pinata filled with squeeky toys and doggie treats}

{drops off recently ordered packages:

1) a heavy-duty slaad spinner for Tossed Slaad

2) a case of mayo for Potato Slaad

3) a case of bacon bits for Cobb Slaad

and a pallet of croutons for all.}

And of course they forgot my relish ...

{pops in with puff of brimstone, speaks in monotone} DretchEx delivery. Here. is. your. relish. {sets down several quart jars of gourmet relish; from the blank expression, he appears dominated or compelled}

Oops. looks. like the. storekeeper. crossed. the. circle. {pops back out, leaving gnomish storekeeper's head and right arm behind}

2

Ranch Dretching wrote:

I can stab the larvae out of you!

<Waves celery stalks around>

My own alias is making vague threats against me.

Here have some rum! {splashes it on taig} Now FIRE FIRE FIRE! Uh-huh-huh-huh huh {attempts to set rum-soaked wolverine on fire}

Um, anybody know remove curse or cure disease or sumpin like that?

OOOOO! OOOOOO!! Fire works!! I got plenty o' fire!!! {waves +1 Everburning Torch of Hippeh Burning around excitedly}

Low-fat Ranch Dretching, I hardly knew thee.

It could be worse. Once, I p*ssed of this wizard, Kraft of the Hidden Valley. He magic jar-ed me!

That might be because they are already stupid.

Exactly!

And I thought you went back to the Abyss? Maybe you need to be dismissed.

Casts dismissal.

No, wait! Please don't throw me in the Briar Patch-, er, Abyss... There's no place like home, there's no place like home...

{vanishes in a cloud of beer farts}

And I didn't even get to use the "two youts" bit.

{starts eating empty PBR cans}

Mebbe we kin have us uh hippeh hunt.

Ayup.

*dowses burning dretch with the contents of a spitoon*

Dang it boah, yer luckeh meh whole porch dint go up in flames. Ah shoul knock some sense inta yer.

Maybeh yer a hippeh 'n maybeh ya ain't, but roun' here we lahk ta keep the fahr in thet there grill. Not on meh porch. Ah jus done re-finished it not two score year ago.

Ayh weren't burnen, jes on fyre. {looks around} Nyce poorcha ewe got hear... {in exaggerated sterotypical Italian accent} be a shame, if something were to happen to it.

.puya

Heya bay-bee, 'ow you doin?

Dangnabit, old hobbits dye hard.

Edit: Tarnation! Ewe aint no filly, ewes jus were-ing filly's pjs?!?!

Ah think he's wunna them, whutchamuhcallit, pyru...pyri...pyruhmaineeax, whut lahks ta liet them hippehs on fahr.

Nossir, ayh ain't no racist -- eet aint jus hippehs, ayh lak two sets anywons ohn fyre! Look, sea- {sets self on fire} bhutt eet don wurk ahn me.

Mah hed ain't on fahr ya idjits. Ain't ya got eyes in yer heads? Mah heds jest ah rottin an uh withrin.

Wood ju lak eet two be ahn fyre? Eet's reely no trubble. {waves Lynching Torch +1 excitedly}

If'n ya took off thet helmut ya might find your hed's on fire too.

If'n heem'd lak it, I kin set his hed on fyre four heem, no prob.

Ayup.

Ya cain't fool us hippeh. Evybuddy roun heer knows whut kinduh hippeh yew is. We kin tell from yer funneh way o'tawkin. Yer probly wun uh them Eyetalyun citeh hippehs, judjin by yer name.

I kant help howah wah named, it were my mammah (durn succubus, rest her sole). We Dretches are from a long line of Southerners... from the deep, deep, way deep down South. We bin dere sins da original war wit o' Northern Ahgresson!

Ah ain't no goldurned hippeh and ah ain't no darnblasted Northerner from New Yawk City!

Gitcher dirty hippeh hindquarters outta hyar, ya dang hippehs! <BLAM> ...DANG HIPPEHS!!! <BLAM>

Call me a hippeh?! Them's dangerously close to feuding words, boy. Just for that, y'all can't have none of meh 'Lightning, brewed fresh in meh ole '57 Chevy radiator. {sips deeply from lead glazed mug} Yep, that's mighteh good.... {sips} with just a shotglass of diesel for a twist.

Ya got thet raht Froggie!

My pappy once told me that those dadburned hippehs eat froggie-legs! Every durn hippeh could use a round of buckshot in da butt.

{giggles quietly to self} **Yes! I could subvert these country folk into an army against the poodles... an army immune to the poodles' aura of stupidity!**

{sneaks onto porch rocking chair, pets lazy hound} Ayup, mighta fine shootin' {sips iced sweet tea, tries not to look nervous}

Get lost runt! {punts Vinnie over the horizon}

A i i e e e e e ! I'll... be... bahk!

Oh, nooooo! -- did you follow me over from Sigil?!

Heya spiv, how you doin'? Yeah, I had to give those Hardheads the laugh, before they gave me the rope.

And I like you better as that jinkskirt, Buhnay.

Puddles? Yeha, wee our berry taterfull.

Who da BEEP is dis' addle-cove, coming into our case, rattling his bonebox like a barmy berk?! Get your mangy hide outta here before you find your name in the Dead Book. {dual-wields celery stalks menacingly}