Senior Software Developer
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For your reading pleasure, here are the first 842 posts from the awesome Three Word Game thread.
[edit, July 2007: I've removed line breaks so it should read more like prose]
"I'm going to start a 3 word game about Dungeons and Dragons:
The rogue leaped
Now it's your turn to continue the storie in only THREE words!
...off a cliff. and tumbled into the party cleric who then cast cure light wounds on a groaning friend.
The mage who said owch. The bard laughed shooting ale out killing everyone present.
The medusa however followed the gaze of the statue to the mammoth custard cream pie tapestry. She voraciously rubbed it all over her belly laughing at the mammoth cream pie.
A lightening bolt came crashing down and killed a funky disco beat. The Vampire DJ ,who was too full too eat farted somthing terrible impressing Juiblex's Thrall immensely.
A mage hiding in the red dragons's mouth postulated the theoretical maximun magical content of her new breath freshener.
Obviously, six times nine is my favourite un-prime number, 54,
(sorry four words!)
So, the rogue finds himself irrelevant in relation to the party's goals. Just as Elminster is a sucker.
Sentence fragments are spell components that don't require concentration or material components, like Bigby's imposing... obscene guesture.
Besides the cake monster is magically delicious! Especially when it's Predigested by the roper's gullet.
Sorcerers smell terrible, yet they taste like pancakes and beer when stuffed with shredded newspaper and pancakes and beer.
The vampire minotaur thought the rogue
***this story is getting interesting! So far, in this story, we have a rogue, a cleric, a "friend", a mage, (unless the friend is the mage), a bard, medusa, a vampire DJ who triumphed over THE funky disco beat, Juiblex's Trall, another mage(maybe), Elminster, Bigby, and a vampire minotaur, and some of them have even killed a Cake Monster and a tapestry.*** ;)
smelled funny, but joined him to finish the crossword puzzle of death. All it needed was a mere blood sacrifice to unlock the spinning Pencil of Omniscience located in the Holy Antechamber of Lagozed's Festering Sore.
So the minotaur became a bat and flew straight over the acolytes who were trying to program all Monkeys to poop +5 garlic projectiles.
"Terror, Death, Destruction!!" Shouted the Hierophant.
"What!?!" replied the rogue.
"I said, ..." "Terror, Death, Destruction!!" "for you and..." the Beholder Pizza golem!
(silence)
"What!?!" Then from behind a ray of hot, greasy cheese women from Oerth, the rogue outflanked this entire sentence.
Meanwhile the minotaur,
***off topic*** (LOL! on your entry Chris, I didn't know where that was going!)
Also, I agree with rogue2, the story is getting pretty interesting.
CLEANED HIS HORNS And said, "Are..." cheese women sanitary?"
"I'd keep cleaning."
"if it weren't" "for those pesky" "quotation marks, I'd..." "be describing stuff." "Well, get on..."
Everyone was surprised to experience hallucinations but the minotaur rubbed his eyes with the rogue. They escaped with pencil, but lost the word "a". They almost completed the Dreaded Crosswords of Uncertain Definitions when the most absurd thing happened; an evil librarian drove the bookmobile into the river. without bringing her blue denim jumper.
"Ha, Ha, Ha!" she laughed as glistening beads of mozzarella {censor} {censor} {censor} {censor} {censor}. fell out of The Castle of the Pizza Golem.
*Off Topic*
LOL! Triple G wins for funniest post so far. . . that's was hilarious. I'm sitting here with my fiancee while she's reading, and she had to ask me if I was okay. . .
So, in a blind rage, the angry mage summoned enough courage to ignite his breachclout without crying out maintaining his concentration while calling forth a trio of callipygian caryatid columns. Surpisingly, the rogue didn't like them Though they were statuesque, they were standing on his keen, shocking burst crossword puzzle, he averted his gaze and ripped the fabric of reality.
The minotaur cried: That halfling stole my left handed
***Seems that there are several people who are cheating by posting multiple three word posts, thus actually getting a 9 or even 15 word influence into the story...if you can call it that***
Guilty as charged...
Sorry, my bad...
Peccavi, mea culpa...
Didn't know better...
Won't happen again...
See you later...
LG ...pencil! AFTER HIM!"
*** yeah guys... this cheating thing is uncool ***
The halfling, ASEO, eluded him, but Wil charmed him. and through charming, Maester Wheaton revealed he was evil which came as no surprise. Unfortunately, the Cleric unzipped a glowing, exalted bag of unimaginable Suffering, Pain, and Über-Fun Carnage and smote the unsuspecting party bard,
***Ya, guys, try not to cheat. The fun of a Three Word Game is not knowing where it will go next. Thanks for stopping. ;)***
causing the rogue to soil his trousers of defecation.
Understandably, the smell didn't endear him to Asmodeus, who swallowed him whole. Then spat him into the dark mind flayer's cave.
The illithid said: You little s*&*e! I was finishing ceremorphosis on a clone of Wesley when you splattered against the wall
The illithid cast Ilsensine's Pinky Tentacles at the rogue's Odiferous orifice and his amazing chocolate figurine of wonderous Hershey Bar power dangled dangerously, decending down dark, dingly polymorphing into a biodegradable polymer scaffold dripping with acidic spongecake. All of which tasted like a run-on sentence.
The Wesley clone and Asmodeus skipped that whole section by plane-shifting to Asgard. Once there, Odin shoved Frigga's fancifully fiendish fondue at them. dang rogues spake in thieve's cant "I Should have" read the manual then we'd know thieves can not filch fiendish fondue from Frigga. Fortunately, Frigga foretold that Freya would frantically yank on Odin's rod of LORDLY Grecian Formula, producing a sickening blast and deafening roar as it reinvigorated the halfling's original recipe chicken platter.
Meanwhile, somewhere over Berlin the Luftwaffe unrelated to this stories plot line stood, burped and hugged his teadybear Then Frigga said "They killed Kenny!!!!!" and fried Asmodeus then sauted them inviting everyone to show appreciation by hugging their teadybears
Knights say "neit!\ and supercalafragilisticexpialidocious too.
A day passed, reinstating the hafling's mental control of his fiesty bowels and quivering jowls Should have eaten dragon snot barbeque... not Mordenkainens disjunction! Woe to those who don't recognize the difference between
Save everyone's Arses not making sense screamed the halfling. His confidence returned, strengthening his diminuative appearance. He smacked his tiny lips together for all to hear and then he recited what he thought was a masterpiece from a world far beyond all pizza golem conspiracy
Suddenly, a spellstitched zombie of darkness threw its viscera at the forlorn gaggle of fiendish drunken nomads. Unexpectedly... pitching their tents on the jade whose futile protests got them nowhere but did manage to evicerate the halfling who had seen to it What was worse, he had lost his only pair of brass balls. Why he needed... them, none dared ask. While fools are parted from brass ball-less castrateing Drow priestesses.
Speaking of ballcrushers, female tiefling accountants, have a penchant for extreme sexual makovers--especially, when buff demonic studs sporting spikey hair lambada before them. Once, the legends of ancient Bolognatania spake of a creature named Nilbog! This slithering monstrosity played annoying songs backwards, proving goblins have secret codes hidden in their spatio-temporal reversal. This rewrites the Unifying Nilbog Theorem which states that All pie is as pie does.
Meanwhile, the rogue nostalgic for headcheese, convinced a wizard gnome named Cheesehead to dish out mozzarella pizza golems and spellstitched gorgonzola to confused illithids allowing him to cut the cheesiest lounge singer's pay. The goblin bandmembers were unceremoniously slain.
Loki drank vodka from the cleric's Decanter of Endless Kickyerasgard mineral water, sacriligiously profaning absolutely a holy font , Helvetica. Loki laughed and pet his existential angst experiencing Odin's stern displeasure.
The bad turtles mocked their soup, plotting to destroy the worshippers of the soup nazi
They enlisted weresharks to circle each other when druids harvested tomatoes for a brand new badass Mustang that Ronnie James Dio rode into the g%&&*#n lake?! What was Dio doing with that underaged block of cheese and who's Skittles were planted in the trunk? Officers please believe me, I definitely didn't see that rainbow or that stupid lephrechaun with a bowl of cereal on his head had to say I'm hallucinating." The naughty Bishop replied, as he tripped over his Symbol, and accidentally cast too many spells on the leprechan spilling his olives.
The rogue shouted "There's the otyugh!!!" then smelled him before the lactating thing had a sudden protien stain wardrobe malfunction. "Beware your destiny, for worms age slowly.
Confused, the vampire survived on rats with unusually large diamond-studded harnesses.
Meanwhile, the hobbit Blibdoolpoolp priest cast a hundred yards from the shore yet missed entirely , what a bore.
The Celtic bard who's lavander thong chafed his bells sang soothing spells.
But the mad dunkey likes lavendar thongs with flavorful scents of flowers "Halt!" shouted Anthony
Tailchaser Please note that your are completly ruining the game by posting multiple three word posts in a row, thus tainting the story and makiing the world a much sadder place.
Shame on you.
that pustulent gnome, while standing kneedeep in kobold spleens
I have a long-standing semantic gripe with D&D. "Dexterity" is not really the right word. COnsidering what it encompasses, it should probably be "agility."
while eating toasted Elven light bread "I've thought about agility, I agree 'dexterity' is overrated". "Besides, clumsy is being like a dyslexic doppleganger, who unknowingly morphed into themselves. The rogue clumsily pushed in despite numerous failed trapfinding checks, triggering the putrid stench of rotted flesh ... But, I digress.
Unfortunately, the shambling amorphous right handed sinister-schooled lefty and halfling priest decapitated the rogue who was, unfortunately headless. Heedlessly, he shouted "A lich, and turned the ... mysterious knob, causing the tapestry to smother the lich.
However, its phylactary was made of a little known orcish lounge singer's heavily pierced left vocal cord. "Belkar!" was tattooed on The hobbit cleric's grandmother's heavily pierced inner lip. Clerics dislike "Belkar", especially when it distracts his inner lip.
Denethrios the Sage ate his own soul for knowledge and cried, "Absolom! It tastes bitter. He gazed at his soul-les body and wept. The blizzard came quickly obscuring the vision of King Kanut. The king stood overlooking the pass that fell incomplete. Ice devils flew from the summoning of a cookie, and shrieked their disagreement of the horrible acidic taste.
King Kanut's cookies where slightly soggy and pirates don't eat salty cookies. However, soggy cookies made with rum sweet, sweet rum can cause tipsy-ness, or false bravado which often leads to hospital visits.
"Hic! Whatsh da... time when you can't see straight fo' dwunken blish?"
"Who said that?" cried the king who was, I think a rat wearing a bad toupee on his sweaty, glistening dome.
Antidisestablishmentarianism exacerbated tumultuous gave way to anger towards royalty specifically warlocks disguised as foppish queens throwing tarts and wearing pink corsets.
"Oh, you're so awesomely powerful, you goth necromancer you!
"When will you stop with the needless flattery?" asked the Kyuss zombie.
A manitee sorceror awakened and augmented his left buttock to deflect all unsuitable barrels of slaphappy monkeys, now eating strange fibrous copper allen wrenches of alien origin!
One slaphappy monkey was tipsy, so he strapped a vorpal chicken leg on his buttock, causing him much embarassment when he brushed another monkey
A hush fell As the monkey bartender called out "KFC. KFC! K-u-n-tucky F-r-ied Ch-i-mera!! Get your nice feverish ...muey infuego chick... on a stick!
The rude bard floated an airbiscuit towards foppish fools cooking the chimera "Garcon! This meal tastes like chicken and looks like a gaggle of grotesque gorristro! Perhaps fools shouldn't cook Because antelope can use deadly force to hurl the slippers of domination when threatened by a sleepy aboleth and his latex and fishnet wearing thong-toting grandmother.
"Put on some slow, sultry music an' do dat gramma thang, yo!"
An aging alienist contracted cackle fever and his left foot started humming to the tune Iron Maiden's, "Trooper"! Fearing his foot loose -- fancy free!
Meanwhile, fifteen feytouched filchers from Furyondy filched figs from Gilda's grumpy grandpa Gregory's grouchy gorgon's huge hairy haversack.
A purple Loincloth Obscurred the sword from the guards That weren't so sober, allowing many unwanted pregnancies. Tharizdun and a Shadowdemon let loose the ungodly trio of giant commie cockroaches with red fuzzy dice dangling from their pierced bellybuttons.
Tharizdun always was afraid of dice (mice, too, but especially when they scurry with books like a certain avatar of Paizo.
Big scary eyeballs floated around Tharizdun seeking the ultimate costume for Halloween the holiest day of cow manure!
The sickness spread like warm syrup across Kanut's kingdom ,sounds of vomiting could be heard coming from every tight-chested throat draped with gaudy vomit balls filled with curdled milk.
******off topic (jeez! we are some sick so-and-so's) LOL!
Puppies, unicorns and ettins flapped feebly through the sewer but glistening sweet pears were served to ravenous wraiths . Rainbows and sunshine enthralled the king eating raw entrails coated in vomit.
**********off-topic: I completly agree, drunken_nomad! We are sick!!! Mwaahahahahaha!
Pushing away platters of fluffy bunny , the king reached his bunny limit, and burped fur. The champion lizardman turned a cartwheel over the fur-burpee running for touchdown vomiting all over, spilling cheezy poofs and some fur, on the bad evil tainted pot-pie.
Orlando Bloom bought three keen scooters then set fire to a sandwich covered with ***you guessed it...*** vomit! The stench made the babies laugh and the centepedes wriggled delightfully. Corn made Orlando blush because corn is "dirty". His blushing sent shivers of lust down 653 cute little unicorns spines. The gargantuan Orlando Bloom clone washed dishes and accidentally stepped on the lustful toadstool, and went west.
The rogue leapt
;)
...off a cliff. into some vomit. Going ethereal, the monsterous pig wraith said "Aces Gary!!!"
Unbeknownst to all, Harold and Kumar , the twins born from bad marketing, plundered the vaults where unknown evils crept in silence into the mist indictive of Ravenloft
The vampiric mists smelled like waffles that'd been burnt
sorry I haven't posted on here in a while busybusybusybusy......etc
by culinary critics.
"This ain't my three word game you freaks...", gasped Jimmy the Androsphinx brand* automated puzzleboard.
(*Jimmy the Androsphinx copyrighted by JimmyAnro Games & Jimmy the Androsphinx, Inc. All rights reserved. Unauthorized use of the Jimmy the Androsphinx character or image is prohibited by law.)
Great Green God was charged with bringing the horrid egg salad sandwiches to the picnic conjured upa army of xenophobic daleks that strung up they're bows and pink ribbons onto Doctor Who's pandimensional fan club. Meanwhile Minnie the moocher checked Fantasy Football online and chose Chewbacca, because linemen should have bowcasters instead of stratocasters reported sports' newscasters. were extremely horny satyrs allowed mating completely random clauses.
"and ::punctuation," would;. cast Detect Good to expose the happy go lucky gnome wild mage for the Narc who couldn't count well.
"Or could he?" pondered the rogue. "Jibjab!" shouted Phillip.
**** OFF TOPIC. good one Chris. **** LOL!
Being somewhat malformed, the druid was talking to himself with both mouthes, while eating falafel drow-scalp frittatas. Meanwhile, at another jaded svirfneblin's secret dressing room, the cross-eyed cyclops presented granite roses to Nimbletoad, his favorite tiny dancer. Unfortunately, the disco ball fell, crushing the cyclops' iPod. The now unfashionable masses rose up and danced to Nimbletoad's musical stylings which totally rocked.
Seething with jell-o
(with due credit to Chris Wissel for the line I just stole ;)
with shredded carrots GWAR arrived and ripped apart the easy, peaceful feeling Sealy Posture-pedic Matress tag, which clearly alerted the Federales
They sprinted north awhile, but tuckered out and decided "this ain't working" and sprinted southeast toward the shoes of Father Donavan The father lifted his psychic blade , but fell victim to Tasha's Hideous Chapped Lips. Father ate some radioactive shark meat and expired instantly. Wailing orphans looted his umbrella and vodka carefully separating each beer atom from Babs's uvula, causing a flow of sticky sap, so the cyclops returned with a rash , the busted i-pod, screaming: "My vision-" is blurry chums!"
That went nowhere, said Pauly Shore
Limping in circles around and around and around and a giant contact sport enthusiast tackled the tough issues on Thursday's Oprah!
"this ain't working" Said the DM to his lover the explosive fem-bot. The fem-bot exploded in a rainbow fruit-i-lious color, killing some, delighting others with devistating effectivness.
"Stop that already," said the captain and Teneal, while Sonny and Cher meet the Beatles on Ed Sullivan. Ed soon discovered Elvis Presley's gyrating abyssal ghoul sidekick licking the bones like Sergio Mendez. Chimichongas were served on the gnome's mutated flat-top head
Life became magnificent in the kingdom of Special Things when the wizards shoveled the snow that was yellow lemon-drop flavored. It startled the gorgimera that ate most of the wizards of the coast. Riots consumed the ham and mayo.
Chance and chaos , those loveable twins, play .500-level ball but failed at math, so they seduced their teacher to the darkside . She loved it!
Pelor's Champion, Sir Nub the Short -Order Cook from Sharn, overpeppered the the softball pitch and beaned the honorable senator from Underpantsland, allowing him to profit(?!) by step three. Twenty-four slow dancing kobolds from Nova Scotia drinking maddog 20/20 brandished axes and fun was had until mom arrived.
Now someone needs to write the module.
I'm guessing it's pretty slow post-holiday where you are Gary.
Happy New Year,
GGG
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Senior Software Developer
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Chapter 2: The Great Thread Robbery: The banshee wailed making the heroes shiver with fear biting their tongues and rethinking their desperation to travel from their basement to the distant beer fridge upstairs.
An inebriated beholder passed a mirror that scared the drunken eye tyrant into reconsidering plans involving mixing beer and propane in midair over burning jalapenos and cheese. "Cooking's not my special purpose...especially -look, a tomato OF DEATH!! supercalifragilisticexpialidocious Sorry, seizure. Where's my hasenfeffer?!?!" All must bow down!" "Lower....Lower....There."
The confused ettercaps obeyed, kneeling toward their Hasselhoff idol, and chittered excitedly as the beer and brats were animating and attacking the pretzel demons of Ulm. Explosions around the rogue elephant blossom like roses of blood, making carnage appropriate curdling sucking noises.
The hushed battlefield coated red with attentive dekanter goblins glistened in the morning light, but armies of buzzards soiled the army.
Janitorius, god of smelly geletinous slimes and The Poopsmith known as Crackleby, by the ladies, went nightclubbin' to procure ideal consorts.
Their first stop -- and perhaps last -- was a dangerous mead joint called The Jade Thread.
The rich Corinthian doorman, Lazlo the Pimpslapper was carrying his +1 pimpslapping vorpal egg noodle which he brandished before the Aussies "Ahh, Krikey!" Said the crocolisk hunter having accidentally skewered a piece of androgynous trouser furniture.
Jeff the Chef sharpened his cleaver and chopped the baking timer into oger-sized nipple chunks for frying of kobold dying in the light.
Then he said "Jeff need recipe," So, he called chef Barfmore Spewalot also known as Burgermeister Meister Burger who berated Jeff for wearing mayonaise after Labor Day.
The roof exploded from excessive gas prices, so the window was opened to relieve the SUV owner's wallet of its cash.
"Jeff poor!" grunted the ogre, tired of stealing from Jeff who never seemed to have posted from work.
Once, Lazlo loaned his favorite doorman's jacket to bugbears who modified it by sh@$ing all their back hair and stuffing the allergen in Lazlo's wide-brimmed velvet hat of moosey fate.
Lazlo figured that things could not get worse, so he just threw up goat cheese, trying to hit the nearest half- elemental half-elf who simply smiled.
However, its grin made it easy to Spot (DC:5).
"OH MY GODS!!!
Broccoli! Right between her front teeth!
And me without my minty floss."
She replied, "Wow...
I don't know why it took my liver out before it could explode in rusty bits." Now, everyone stay calm while I pray to the PostMonster General.
"Oh Lord, we want to offer coffee and tuna and gold bars to your enemies!" But don't forget, "All is temporary."
Thought a Dwarf.
The dwarf continued his daily affirmation: Boiling sesame seeds while eating manly gooseliver pate' Manwiches.
is no solution worthy of such ridiculously large bars.
The 1000th Celestial post is HERE!" Whoop! Whoop! Whoop!" The celebration alerted Asmodeus and Cher, also known as three bean salad covered in spinach, and they quickly hailed a carriage by lifting a bony arm covered in Jubilex's oozy armpit drippings, which started a puddle paddle battle muddle.
Clip-clop, clip-clop went Happyclown, the fiendish jackalope. The rogue and the paladin dodged the fiendish jackalope, but not its lawyers, managers, trainers, groomers, groupies, and gnome hippie with chicken pox vaccine potions. The labels read, "CAUTION!
DO NOT READ UPON PENALTY OF BEING TURNED INTO A LABEL THAT JUST DOES NOT STOP SHOUTING!!!" *ahem* The rogue however slapped the gnome for selling out of grape flavored Koopa Pasta. The paladin calmed everybody With his holy +5 Sword of Prestidigitation. Then he fell into the block of cheeze laced with codeine and cheese weevils.
Timidly, the rogue spat upon Ogremach, Evil Lord of Kobolds, the greatest tarrasque on the evil turnip cart called life. In the meantime, sixty-three thousand four hundred and one meenlocks started breakdancing wildly to Neil Diamond's "After the Goldrush".
The song ended life everywhere except the inn of "The Lounge Singer". Within the Inn Sidenote: look no further than this thread for your next adventure path, Paizo! FH eleven goblins cooked and cooked and basted the infidels with Heinz 57 and powdered sugar creating a delicious and nutritious omlette which they threw in Winkie's face.
Meanwhile, behind the now messy counter, the serving wench uncovered the otyugh's missing bag of unsalted potato chips (filth flavored). What were they doing to further the oytugh's social development skills? First, they invigorated the gumline and added an ultra shiny coating of beetle dung.
Meanwhile, a succubus *censored* the *censored* until quite sore and tired, meanwhile the rogue lept onto the succubus who then screamed "Get off me!" the rouge responds with fiery hips (a bellydance move) of icy power.
Unimpressed, the succubus picked her nose unsuccessfully, setting off a fiendish snot rocket, which landed and crawled away. .. from the cliff.
Hordes of werelemmings consumed some werecabbages while the meme acted out 'Evita' Rita no Leeta was the star.
Other notable performances by Carrot Top must be punished with tar, feathers, and strapping young male minotaur savaging.
The band played romantic music from Strapping Young Lad wicked accordion solos to the chagrin of the master pretzelmakers of Canada.
Feeling sorry for the lame duck's goose, the rogue ate it. Morally committing sepuku because the goose was his polymorphed master, Devin Townsend. Finally, there was hope for Lucy the androginous, polygamous, phalanthripist mad cow barbarian.
She would never Until the butcher wrote this haiku: "Eastwood eating Spam Peanut Butter Sandwiches fishheads in stockings".
"That's a haiku?" said the turtle reading the butcher's fairly silly limerick: "A house maid with really big stockings, travelled from here to there.
here to there.
At that point, fluorescent blue ooze dripped from her cat and onto her hair." That smells like teen Wolf 2." Replied The Big Show and "Rowdy" Roddy Piper; They live in the Abyss.
With a bang, Hell's screendoor shut, pinching Thunders' pantleg.
"Ouch!" said Queer...
As Folk alumnus Hal 'vh1' Sparks while settling old scores with the entire cast of HAWK THE SLAYER!
The rogue scuttled the "Minnow" on A Watergod's Hairpiece and left everyone falling off the Edge of Reality.
Tsunamis and waterspouts did abound, however...
at the waterpark.
Beef was served and the pope exploded into a quivvering mass of chaos beasts. Suddenly, the pope reappeared.
"Fancy a salad?" the naughty bishop accepted; pass the toasted nuts and Eric Roberts clones, wine and women, and very young kittens. The hermit climbed the clocktower to show his roguish friend how to properly conduct an opera duet.
The rogue laughed because he knew that opera sucks.
Figeroa stabs Matt_the_dm.
I've been stabbed!!!
S.W.A.T. arrives and loudly commands matt_the_dm "Drop the Slaad!" Which he dosen't and soils himself. "I've been soiled!!!!" "and stabbed in" Mexico! Why is that not surprising? Too much tequila.
heal or otherwise choose Purgatory as your new home.
I'm not capitulating.
said matt. Mephisto shall be my monkey organ grinder.
For I shall rule the world!!!!" sang the monkey.
Tributes were offered to Pat Sajak on live television watched by millions.
Sneakily, the rogue stole Sajak's toupee.
The crowd stampeded by, provoking an enormous pie fight enter Three Stooges, "Woop woop woop!" "Nyuk, nyuk, nyuk!" The dust settled over the amazingly crafted Stooge simulacrums that stood testament to everything Stooge.
With pie everywhere, an umbilical cord made of bratwurst attacked the rogue.
"That's really sick," scoffed Prince William whilst hastily making fudge from the remains of a dessicated corpse of that damn little dark chocolate golem.
While this happened, the rogue lurked and could'nt believe The Unbelievable Demon-toe!
But again he grabbed ahold of the pie that shouldn't be touched The Medusa snickered and locked eyes turning cream pie into cream pie.
Just then with another rogue and a precarious cliff, a strip joint all got lost.
All? No, one noticed the Viking who had somehow maintained his mead -induced rambling post.
Once again, dragonkin pirate beat ninja goblins in lopsided opium den dodgeball Then, THEY arrived.
Brass monkey swilling, low pants wearing elf ear collecting, chicken breasted sons covered entirely in pink plastic boas.
"Haaaaaay, daddy," said Big Momma Firbolg and her trio of four dwarves.
"Bring me some kimchee and two breath mints," said the corpulent giantess picking her nose.
The dwarves cavorted drunk they were and therefore immune to her breath.
The first dwarf ripped his trousers while dancing across the floor of Demogorgon's lair, who enjoyed glass floors covering acid vats housing laser-head sharks.
Dwarf the second turned a cartwheel until his beard morphed into a catoblepus, I reckoned, even though my true seeing expired months ago. Doesn't his second cousin own a pet that once ingested massive quantities of springing suicidal pickles? Darn those pickles.
Dwarf the third carried the keys made of rice tiny tiny keys, of Pixie craftsmanship covered with runes written in Gnoll when translated, said rice, rice, baby, don't eat me, I won't digest and will cause glaucoma, halitosis, clusterphobia, and intestinal distress.
Dwarf third snorted, "what kinda idiot would eat that without garlic or a handy stake kabob of vampire lizard man leg jerky. Nurse Betty looked around for a drooling jug to stick her magma-filled daisies Duke's into; Yum.
The fourf dwarth hath a lithsp rethulting from retheeving maffive bwunt twauma mis-speaking command words "KWATU! VEWATA! NIKTA-A-A----ACHOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" The spell misfires, summoning pollen clusters mutated with dolphinoid squeaky vocal chords and floating mouths with teeth like jagged phosphorescent needles nibbling and stabbing the lisping dwarf as he flailed painfully metamorphosing into THE BIG CHEESE!
Hungry momma firbolg Hugged him close.
The big cheese, smelt of elderberries and gave off a nice aroma of farting human.
Strangled screaming dwarven Beard fleas laughed as they drowned fries with mayonaise Meanwhile the rogue...
decided to eat his trail rations.
Cautious, but puzzled
***Whoa. I read the first few pages but seriously need a synopsis. There's a pizza golem and mutating cheese creatures (presumably lead by the Big Cheese?) created by piranha-like pollen monsters, a dragon using (a cleric, if I recall correctly) as breath freshener, a vampire minotaur and a rogue (with pants of defecating) who after solving the shocking burst crossword puzzle of death have obtained the Pencil of Omniscience, whereapon the rogue is spat into the underdark...and about here I just lost it. Update anyone?***
the hungry rogue surveyed his surroundings, whilst wolfing down Gulps of Air.
*** I am totally lost in this story also, we need a new chapter or something ***
On another note, across the world The Mad Barber opened for business offering a big discount on speedy beard braidings, trims, and beehive hairstyles.
Dentistry services available include filing teeth, require no external headgear for braces Mole removal optional other lawn services as needed. Nymphs shop for clothes rarely, but seem to know how to wear them up on stage.
or maybe not? This eternal question to be,...or shall we dance? That is the most irrelavent question in Juiblex's Codex of irrelevant questions.
Jubilex's nymphs are very relavent though.
Zuggtmoy, however, in pursuit of fame, spoke three words: yabba dabba doo!
In other news, this thread is filled with peanutbutter and crazy people.
The bullywug chieftain took a moment, croaked out orders, took a swig, ate some mutton, licked his chops, and folded origami baby bunny rabbits for the bullywugs to spear with toast and fondue catoblepus cheese, tasty in their tummy served with libations like bullywug rum, and pineapple juice.
When Zuggotmy saw and was happy her pet snail, "Tdkfhasdfhufh", slimed up to race against Cheeky, the Wonder Bunyip. Unfortunately the slime was too acidic and poor to be particularly tasty on crackers with centipede paste.
So Zuggotmy settled for crisply fried celestial chicken wings and black pudding pops with green froth bubbling ominously from multiple orifices tunelessly humming a wedding march. He-Man and his companion Cheech went north to buy tacos, fodder for Battle-Cat, fodder for Cheech, He-Man smiled and blew smoke rings at Orko, who suffered an allergic sneezing hissy fit soiling his shirt.
Then, Skeletor, who
Then, Skeletor, who
decided to maim Zuggotmy's pet snail Tdkfhasdfhufh the Incredibly hirsute snail, said "please do not hop on pop, especially if you like this Inn."
Then, Cheech retorted, Where's the cliff? I want to gargle prune juice until my constipation no longer inhibits the flow of fresh brains to feed to the fiendish dire octopi that nest on Acheron's unusually cold basement sublevel five.
Speaking of which, which witch bewitched Where's the Thief? Ponderous questions, indeed...
when considering that although, it is not too confusing to an average connoisseur of fiendish vegetarian dishes, who never suffers from gingivitis, halitosis, shingles, or blue balls.
Just then, Teela imploded in pain and Skeletor shrugged, stuck in traffic with Mer-Man and bulbous bloated behemoth called H2 Hummer, desperatly looking for a parking spot big enough to practice tai chi while drinking Maitais, eating ho-ho's, and juggling weremice wearing tu tu's doing one-armed pushups and bowling balls.
This, however, did please Zuggotmy immeasurably and she immediately snail footed it to the closest pig barn to get fresh bacon.
The slovenly Demoness yodeled "Edelweiss!", before diving into the gate leading to the Pig Pens of Bacon-y Goodness, THE 357TH LAYER of a cake.
A cake baked.....
while gardeners raked and rouges faked having vampires staked their thirsts unslaked and hairdos flaked dice cups shaked, while merchants quaked dread C'thulhu 'waked ; his belly ached!
Skeletor saw C'thulhu, that lovable rogue, cackled and cavorted with gleeful abandon while Beast Man mugged Cobra Commander.
Orko and Snarf keyed Skeletor's Hummer and slashed his fringed leather jacket, while Heman and She-Ra pondered the yammerings of Skeletor, who'd been smoking filleted haddock and pseudonatural spiny urchins while drunk pseudointellectuals and pseudodragons debated quasars, quasielementals, quasimodoes, quaintly quiet quasits and Freddie Mercury.
Also, as if like, you know, it's like stuff like, what ever, there's no way a valley elf would ever say something intelligent, but that's totally because like, gag me they're, like, really totally grody, and waaaaay tubular, dude.
In other news, "Clue", the game, is meant to hypnotize weak minded non-Jedi through its devious usage of hidden pheromone emitters, which affects mental patients and their bald ratdog companions who tend to shiver and nibble at pork chops.
Zuggotmy likes bacon and a well-aged corn pone beetles in her salad, of vegepigmy topknots, hellfire-broiled treant roots shambling mound skin, with children tears and vinegar dressing.
He-man scoffed at Zuggtmoy's culinary preferences and table manners He-man threw his French dip at Skeletor's punk brother, Eddie the 'ead Icon of Rocknroll and prominent spokesman for Duke Nukem , Duke of Earl, Green Day's "Dookie", Eddie started jamming the Amboy Dukes' least known tune Non-conformist Wildebeest Man.
After that, everybody settled down for the accordion solo by four virtuoso three-toed sloths named "The slooooowjammerz of the Dark Lords A slampit formed when the excited mosh squid tweakers unexpectedly got ahold of undercooked pork Puked as one with deadly precision into the eye of the beholder sound engineer, who tripped over the squid fell into a puddle of Bon Scott's leavings and had no convenient place to eat some lunch with his fellow mad gnome engineers.
Then, Mel Gibson, clad in velvet embroidered flared pantaloons, giggled and said, "You can take a nap. So Snarf, Liono, MumRa, Cheetara and the beholder snuck off to shop for codeine cough syrup and concentrate of ipecac syrup for nefarious purposes. He-man said, "Skeletor, I don't like you!" "That's because you stole my bike ", Skeletor replied, "so my dad can give you a bony butt whuppin."
"But," He-man replied, "that's just not like you. I hoped you would tell your MOM, 'cause she's so decomposed, that I almost can't tell is she mummy, or Kyuss' spawn? Skeletor got MAD and fetched his aluminum baseball bat+1 , flaming burst, and beat th' stew outta everyone present, then finished his French-dip on the veranda. Gypsies played "Pictionary" with grimlocks, read fortunes for the tojanida queen, her fortune read "You will meet an unexpected, untimely fingernail accident, and tall dark xorn will tell you a long voyage might commence when good fortune comes rokken with Dokken!" Impossible!", exclaimed the cunningly moustachioed Vulcan wearing a purple and yellow bruise on his upper lip. His ear was gruesomely damaged ;a rabid tribble of crimson dribble dripped down his chin. So Skeletor snickered derisively at the battered Vulcan and said, "You pointy-eared hobgoblin, you deserved to eat me, Beeeaaaitch!" "Fascinating," said the Grand Poohbah of Elitist Aliens, while Snarf and Cheetara played with Transformers.
Their favourite Transformer, Slopshot, turned into a badminton ball and flew over (p.s. What is a badminton ball? Badminton is played with a shuttlecock, which isn't even round... But we'll go with it...) to Paizo's offices carrying a stack of article submissions to grey render in the basement of Jabba's palace. The submissions were sliced, diced, circumcised, devoured, digested, defecated (Gross yes, I offer no apology though) and ethereally lost.
So Slap-shot decided being a Transformer to Transform into a dodge hemi -powered riding lawnmower!
Skeletor threw a ripe watermelon at C-3PO, who fell in a vat of stinkycheese foudue C-3PO said' "R2...
pass the toast."
Artoo miraculously produced his toaster attachment firing toast perfectly at C-3P0's face, but he failed to make his fat fryer attachment work, because womprats ate the batteries when the jawas took over Tatooine.
C-3P0 got mad and stabbed Beru in the funnybone with a lightsaber and said, "Eat this, you nerfherder!!" Owen vowed "REVENGE" and unplugged C3P0 to spare us his innane drivel. In grief, R2D2 crashed his X-wing into a pile of bantha dung and drowned. Meanwhile, Cheetara and Snarf, back in the Pimp My Landspeeder garage, run by Skeletor and He-Man, unlocked the oversized custom monster vehicles lowrider AT-AT's with intercontinental ballistic missiles crome quad-laser battery a hot tub, and a herring bone kangol hat.
"Look at that and fetch Sheriff Lobo, you mook; otherwise, we might get stamped, blasted, pounded, pulverized, pummeled, eviscerated, defenestrated, and sauteed with onions!" shouted Skeletor unnecessarily.
Fortunately, it did a little dance and drank a potion of lesser planar binding and quoted from "Deliverance"-- "Jyeetyet?" "Iaint." "Kaylessgo!" This confused Skeletor, so he threw a banjo at He-man, who played "I Got Rhythm" on the accordian screaming, "I have warts on my pectorals from all the D-ball steroids Beastman traded me for stinky patchouli-oil Beastman pelt shampoo ! It itches!" Then the microwave 'dinged!' "Dinner! It is about flippin' time," screamed Skeletor, scooping Jawa macaroni suprise - the "surprise" being the sandpeople delicacy: refried bantha giblets - onto lavender paperplates.
with magenta mapkins. "Tea, anyone?", asked Skeletor, as he Bashed She-Ra in a giddy display of motherly affection with a golfclub.
Formians swarmed over the picnic of abusive lawn gnomes and devoured their ancient grandmothers, thus breaking the curse of gnome lameness.
but pink flamingos swarmed in unbelievable masses attempting to kick gnome booty, thus finally saving Gardens of Eternia from becoming really boring. Two old guys played a until something changed (sorry, I just discovered this thread)
guys played a
strange game of (ARGH! I got interrupted TWICE before I could post the last reply) temperospatial anomaly volleyballbilliards against pseudonatural werecocatrice tauric fiendish celestial Cryohydras of Legend.
However, as the old guys played theives stole their moldy box of stale squid meat to feed fiendish Blonde-barbies from Hades who are all very hungry. Alas, Lassie's last lasso looked lasciviously like lean lupine llamas leaping leaning lupins leading lachrymose lamias lugging ludicrous laborers lasciviously leering locathah lazily lip-synching like lyrical lutenists, laughing like Lucy Lu licking Lydia's lips like lavender lotuses Your mom is so greasy, she Just then, from the heavens above came a thunderous Belch! excuse me (hehe)
Belch! excuse me (hehe)
Sorry, your majesty but at least said the drunk I didn't fart or spew or pop a boil on your steak!
Your hassenpfeffer, however, has horse hair up his arse through his nose and out of both of his overdeveloped and excessively rugose and pungently odiferous and flaccid yet, quixotically, in the worst way.
Deep underground, far below duergar outposts, 'neath svirfneblin fleamarkets, a golem stirred.
Its awakening prophesised by aboleth prophets on ancient scrolls of charmin. Squeezing through ancient vents, Mr. Whipple the vile intelligence inhabiting The Swirling Vortex cackled malevolently, thinking "Ty D. Bohlmann needs to clean between his teeth and shave his unibrow, before finally asking Ms.Bigboobeh to come and dust his miniatures."
(wink, nudge, snort!) What a party, exclaimed the antisocial "More chips anyone?" "Certainly, and also the Habenero-salsa dip."
replied an unsuspecting ilithid Mariachi bandleader.
Senor Guapo Illithito, whose minstrels were using skull xylophones and out-of-tune accordions constructed from flesh of a rotund serving wench who had a procedure to hide her third eye fail, leaving her looking like the bandleader's out-of-tune accordian. "Ola,..
what's that racket?", exclaimed the illithid, facestrumming his guitar in a pleasing Ritchie Blackmore style.
However, unlike the advanced fiendish roper rodeo wannabe punk drink'n bourbon whiskey!
The ilithid prefers his libations lightly heady and frothy like raging orcs.
The abovementioned roper likes one bourbon, one scotch, and....
then it's bedtime!
And then, when the roper sleeps, it dreams about spaghetti. Who knows which sauce it what vile sauce it slathers onto the limp noodles. (sorry for the overlapping post earlier... I went to edit it so that it would make sense, and just then my web connection at work dropped for maintenance...) ? Could it be (No worries. Hey, they almost matched! Two bodies, one mind - we are a virtual-electronic ettin!) the leaping rogue had cunningly acquired some ethereal spaghetti astral alfredo sauced, with sprinkles Mmmmmmmaaaah....
and garlic rolls, so yummy that you want to gargle battery acid mixed with old rusty radiator fluid. , just to get the full flavored true taste of githyanki-cooked "goodness" that's known as "Multiple Modron Madness" by sages worldwide.
Derro surged aboveground to get their lasagna to market before it cooled.
Whereupon hearing this, irate consumer groups demanded cleanliness inspections of the derros' food preparation areas. St. Cuthbert priests agreed to inspect the multi-use kitchens, mechanic garage/ distillery /washrooms, and found twelve drunken duergar dancin' with faeries (Freaker's Ball rejects) who couldn't dance, 'cause they were tweakin' on WD-40.
Otto couldn't resist casting Unstoppable moonwalk on the duergar dancin with faeries!
The result was really and truly an astounding spectacle of duergar 'dancemanship' Yaah!!! With Faeries!!!
Faeries, wearing boots, to electric funerals, pyres for iron-men.
The parched dancers, Duegars and Faeries, drank all the fermented yak milk And than exclaimed "yakkity yak, don't come back!" However "Tell your hoodlum-friends..." said Skeletor's mama, "to not smoke on the water", delusionally believing that old adage...."Quasi-Elementals "do it with..."
those not fully out of control of their mental faculties. Skeletor's mom bony and stinky, then exclaimed loudly "Deep Purple jams better than your miniature space hamster!" "Oh yeah?", retorted the demon weevil, Boofizzle, who had great knowledge of esoteric codexes pertaining colors purple and beige - the sacred greyish-brown was actually invented by Boofizzle as a wholesome alternative to orange - somebodies purple haze - which Boofizzle considered to really rock space hamsters and skeletal old women.
Skeletor's Ma yelped, "....
Sagelike knowledge of anything bores me!" before spontaneously breaking wind and apologizing for her son's visible bone structure.
Boofizzle asked for...
a warm towel and a toasted shizzle the wizzle, to ponder upon the long-term implications on the undead disenfranchised urban underclass.
Mr. Bofizzle's gizzle, the towel-perched weevil Dweezle Knievel, jumped over a gargantuan barrel rolling down a ramp, thrown by the monkey Donkey, He-Man's fraternal, yet extremely alienated, twin, separated when country music afficionados pillaged and raped an undead beholder.
He-man and Donkey unwittingly formed a spectacular hip-hop duo inspired by a fiendish DJ from a desert planet long, long ago in a galaxy far away from the drudgery of harvesting cabbage, instead made fiendish beats and break-dance moves.
Their skills were, mildly put, unusually smooth and lithe, considering their disproportionately huge middle leg that was covered in luminescent spandex and necrotizing fasciitis.
Needless to say, it was a huge success with the people of Eternia and nearby Castle Greyskull, home to the tiny intellect known as Bob the mage.
Usually, Bob just served Teela'Na obediently but not when he accidentally discovered he ate too much Jello pudding and became violently obsessed with cross-dressing halflings in red spiked full plate suspenders and matching codpieces of wounding.
This, however, did verily disgust the poeple that do have nickel allergies, but love dimes.
He-Man, however, loved hill giantess bedonka-donks, breakdancing more than potatoes or indeed even french fries.
Preposterous, you say? "Every word true!" yelled the excited weevil Dweezle, having bought a new megaphone golem from dwarven scrap merchants who thought it too loud for primetime. That, and it stuttered when it translated messages from Dwarven to braille. The golem, which was named Emilio Estevez, AKA Improbable Cowboy, complained "Where is my s'more? I specifically asked your assistant, the Biscuitdoughhandsman, to get me a jalapeno s'more! Accursed Biscuitdoughhandsman! He should take its place!" And so, the ludicrous cowboylike golem "W", easily recognizable by elephantine ears, unusual speechification habits, and strict fundamentalist reading of the Gospel, according to Jiminy the Werecricket, with strategery advice, ate the Biscuitdoughhandsman with favva beans and dijon mustard with a sideorder of yak-milk yoghurt.
Gutboy Barrelhouse, the dwarven hammer juggler, knocked himself out.
Circus midget paramedics tripped over stethoscopes rushing to aid the besquashed Gutboy while werepoodle clowns distracted the audience from noticing that Gutboy's corpulent namesake Anyway Badonka-donk, dropped...
Dee Dee Dee into the elephant ring, causing widescale online poker gaming, the scourge of a gnome named Terrafart, distantly related to Tearafart, the Grand Poobah of Cthulu Fanciers International, a daughter company of My Little Pony Fanciers, which, again, is controlled by a conglomerate scheming to control the color orange from misuse by substituting the color fucia instead. This greatly confused many, chief amongst them the colourblind, as many began calling their stockbrokers to arrange unwarranted trades.
Man-at-Arms, He-man's Jack-of-all-trades, told He-Man, "Don't step on my three locked box filled with colorful pajamas from Eternia's cheapest outlet malls; that's just not thrifty, it's outright off topic. Demogorgon snorted milk through the right nostril, causing hysteric fits in that head, the other rolled the dice to determine its next Profession (masseusse) check limbering his tentacle sensuously over Man-At-Arms' heavily moustachioed upper abdominal hair; they sold goat leggings to driders, making a ton of waffle-irons of DOOM!!!
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Senior Software Developer
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Chapter 3: What magical things are for sale, mister? Contrary to most Skeletorial minions' assertions, Earth isn't actually causing arcane distortions to mutate poodles' kidneys and lungs ; instead, it's caused by eating rancid wolverine-milk products and toenail paint chemicals while singing the theme to Shaft.
Earth's arcane distortion...
ruined Skeletor's spell causing golfers worldwide to resonate with Balls o fire.
"Curses! I've been electrified by those...
abominable snowmidgets of transsexual Transylvania! Never trust a snowmidget!" Skeletor wailed. Meanwhile, at the inn affectionately known as The Woeful Gerbil He-man and Man-at-arms were discussing juggling their work life with their work-outs and taking Orko while the Theif rummaged through their BeefyBoy magazine collection, and picked pockets to check for rolls of quarters and bags of ball bearings with finely-etched symbols of various Cthulu fanciers and tcho-tcho chefs prepared hardboiled eggs, just so y'know.
Speaking of hardboiled - you should see the dead unicorns stuck in the...
cave of chaos enchanted by the blood of demons ; they're delicious! Strangely, Skeletor doesn't appreciate hot apple pies with his McDonalds happy meal toys because he's paranoid of the pimpwitch that resides within the citadel of The Invisible Overpass The pimpwitch knew...
someone was holding her ichor drippings stored in a magical Teletubby lunchbox that of fiendish smell and appearance.
"Eeww, what stinks?" "Skeletor farted," said He-Man to a nonplussed Hordak, who knew not what the pimpwitch stored in the aforementioned magical Teletubby lunchbox. Was it perhaps Beastman's chew toy? Gorbadoc the dwarf, meanwhile, was swimming happily, not knowing the pimpwitch's diabolical...
scheme, which specifically called for 517 nighthag gorrila fighters armed with magical.., Baby-back ribs of Beer Blasted Tastiness and vorpal greataxes as consolation prizes for attending the..
Barbaquenomicon of Iggwilv release party. There, Emirikol prepared his famous five-alarm chili with vrock kidney, fresh dragon gizzards, and a pinch of pixie dust.
The resulting concoction smelled like a helluva good meal.
A giggling Jubilex was spotted sampling the spicy chili Still giggling,Jubiblex...
exclaimed "I really like Iggwilv, but I'm so completely tired of her hairstyle; she's so 'top 100 layers', she's played OUT like Ashlee Simpson like dead fish like a Rhinestone and like the like, you know, thing that likes to, y'know, like, Licking like licks and, like, lipsynching, like Ashlee Simpson.
" Zuggotmy, angry and embarassed, threw the...
spagetti with meatballs and mozza cheese error- on Iuz's redheaded stepchild, Uzi, who knew succubus Susie and bubbly jaccuzi ; what a floosie.
with morals loosie succulent and juicy and all smootchiesmootchie turned everyone woozy drunken, and boozy, did the hoochie 'twas a doozie, woodstockish, perhaps lollapaloozey but never snoozy sometimes, Dr. Seussy; not very choosy, deep down bluesy yet still oozey.
Uzi said, "waaaugh, Iggwilv been stealing she my gramma and me papa so ends the tale of a Humpdicks last stand in a pile of spaghetti. Also, at the same moment, an anvil fell from the fell from a first floor window of Castle Greyskull violently striking the foot of Vecna which was attached to Vecna's leg which was attached to some idiot whom came from Transsexual Transylvania, with a troupe of spider monkey clowns and a gaggle of mutant blowfish. They were all blowing on a smoldering birthday cake with 5,264 candles and started singing like Yoko Ono a mournful lament for the loss of the great pumpkin, Charlie Brown.
This profound loss of humendous preportions caused moronic Orko to spasm and drool with uncontrollable gaseous issuances; this unfortunate byproduct of wolverine-milk dairy products pasteurized by undead Vulcans and bottled by the same people that brought you the Slic-o-mater aggravated Orko's already questionable sphincter muscles and made a dreadful metallic scraping in his innards as biochemical processes boiled from within by the Slic-o-meter and the Infernalenfuser-1000 hurt real bad.
Three mischievous pixies laughed at Orko's embarassment and discomfort, Orko killed himself a wisemouth pixie, as it had been known around the neighbourhood as a selfish lover ; this drove Orko who was dead tired, to the brink of mania; he lopped off the offending sprite's left cheek with a mangled shoehorn of sharpness, before planeshifting to the demiplane of dread -locked rastafarians: the Isle of Dread...
s an' ragga, mon!, kinda' near Hempmonaland and the fields of Gilagorthorogorangoraguthorrokulorot stand GGG for short, to find a bucket of fish a Artifact of Blibdoolpoolp's church services built around a Bass Pro Shop Bait and Tackle forty percent off nightcrawlers, kyussworms, rotgrubs, ear seekers and vampireswarms on clearance, as everything must go to make room for new Spawns of Kyuss paladin hunting party.
Skeletor's stupid cousin, Sinewtor the tight, walked slowly, as his lanky thews rubbing together, creating muscle-building dynamic tension and burnt-skin smell; he twitched along towards the temple of Elemental Evil, where he intended to rescue holy silverware of Cuthbert so that he could eat his spaghetti-o's without burning a hole in his precious hand-stitched codpiece of bullrushing ; though it was a little rusty.
When Orko's sister, who looked like a water buffalo from the abyss in drag, was casting a spell which replicated the newest album by Cher. It was, according to her publicist, a tour-de-force of Cher fabness matched only by her plastic surgeon's outlandish creations, like that prehensile nostril he created for Ashley Simpson and Demogorgon. The last time that happened, small bits of a bugbear's lunch came spewing forth from the distended abdomen of a fiendish yuan-ti abomination named Hedley Shanklewart.
Most observers failed to notice tiny sigils on the bronze cod piece relating the tale of the misunderstood knight. The night the lights went phosphorescently green, nothing flew a kight, save the most infamous of pixies, the diobolical Mixoplix laughed for what nobody knew but he who is the master of diabolical mass refunds shall give credit for cursed underwear.
Other cursed equipment, includes the massive...
underworld hotwater heater and the inexplicably fiendish wood paneling with screaming faces twisted in horror, at the deplorable price of your collection of shoes for fiendish blood pacts forged long before the rising sibriex of complaints filed in secret extraplanar fortresses far from greedy fingers of rougish thieves, like the notoriously hirsute and brobdingnagian half-ogre gnoll thug with festering acne and the worst case of shingles ever to be seen by eyes of men. The son of Skeletor, Willem DaFoe, asked why am I so damn good as to ooze self-confidence like a bull spewing semen flavored hot chocolate, oh hairy elf? So He-man's brother-in-law, the hairy apeman (thaco, I know its hard but please dont break the rules of the game) whose name is a BIG SECRET around these here messageboards, told him to shave his overgrown groin hair or else Skeletor might burn it off with a baby salamander egg which would hurt if they slipped and fell onto a bed of scarlet viper bushes.
"Understood," replied Willem, who is not not of this world, instead hailing banana nut muffins as the new breakfast food of...
cool dudes everywhere.
Randomly cats fall off the meatwagon onto the naked nighthag crawling out of the tavern conveniently located near Starbucks. Said nighthag had drunk eleven triple-strength cappucinos before her morning cocktail mint julep with a special dwarven barley,herbs,hops coated chicken. She loved crystal meth Go! Go! Go!
are the words of fools everywhere.
Demonboy spat at Ashlee Simpson and her hellspawned ilk, chicken pot pie and chicken dumplings in a pool of undescribable filth, which suited Ashlee in a Tux.
However, this bizarre turn of events was made even by cutting off her oversized head and sacrificing it to the badgers with nibbly teeth mice stole it away from its tasty chocolate hat that it wears on rainy days when its sad and lumpy. Vecna killed the mice.
Then reanimated them, with wicked grafts on their little shoulders, back and sweaty loin areas to attack, maim, and grow monsterous hungry for cheese -like byproducts of certain government projects producing pornographic furniture and geothermally powered water beds for moral devoid nobles with too much gold for their degenerate harmonica-playing ways and not enough taste or brains or ta-stee brains to stimulate any interest amongst illithids even if starving grimlocks prefer stir-fried troglodyte glands with Otyugh liver steaks and fava beans.
Greyhawk's government grew tentacles, for they were actually from Innsmouth, where the tentacle growers flourish.
The Church of the Deep ones on the corner of Sloth and Gluttony Drive, is a alley known for cats... with the worst disease -ridden meat vendors hunting them for their humongous warts considered a delicacy among followers of Martha Stewart's Living For Hill Giants.
The wartcats, however, being disagreeable beasts, Spewed massive hairballs animated, evilly cunning hairballs-- with teeth.
And hairballs with razor-edged frilly tentacles and bubble wrap.
Hairballs shouldn't have razor-edged frills, because nature shouldn't allow three word games.
Six legged osquips of infernal descent should not play with my toys while covered in crunchy peanut butter and jelly of various insideous fungi whose spores, when consumed with ketchup, emit a poisonous elephant sized fart that is caustic but quite tasty!
Also, one should juice mages regularly to squeeze every ounce of toner to properly fricasse on the boucanier said osquip. Folding animated origami ninja requires complex algorithms and quadridextrous girallons that have quaffed Amp and Rockstar potions bestowing unusually manic-depressive personality disorders like Love and lust for tacos, instead of normal gas cramps and sulphurus volcanic diarrhea resulting from overenthusiastic use of Chapstick.
Thus, it seems through careful planning Chapstick brand Chapstick is unsafe. Meanwhile, cheap imitation Chapsticks melt for fun making pockets messy.
However, chocolate melts as does cheese, when it becomes attached to a hot object, such as fiendish Chapstick.
cheese brings vaporrats with Vick's Vap-o-Rub of Inescapable Doom, causing unholy diarrhea and other unpleasant colonic malaises to all rodents and action figure templated fat bastard lawyers.
Attorney General Kendall, a morose mofo, ate a sandwich containing excessive amounts of Chapstick, Cheezwhiz, and Camembert, plus causing him to drop his lawsuit down his shorts where it got all tangled up :) in his Cheez-whiz-smeared Undergarments. The lawyer than adressed his Cheez-Whiz problem was a Rat!
The fiendish Chapstick was vaporized; Bullywugs not having lips, and thus looking for tulips to smell then eat are most often known to jump right into trouble.
Beholders prefer Visine ; the Grand Vizier just wears shades and summons evil air elementals to destroy the Paladin whose invalid in -laws were bothering party goers everywhere.
Such behaviour could never be condoned therefore, it must guide society as a whole towards He-manesque greatness, Skeletoresque driving skills, and a kinder, gentler thousand points of an iron maiden.
These are the best days of Elvis Presley's reincarnation as a super -Smurf impersonator called Blue Suede Smurf, practicing smurfcraft in a no-smurfing-zone, incurring enraged protests from Sloppy Smurf, whose opinions were at best, unsmurfy, and smurfkind rejoiced by throwing a fancy white-pants party. However, when seeing the sight of Gargameld the Wizard and he said "I saw Elvis dressed as a Las Vegas Smurf : fluorescent polyester pantsuit, big round feet, and only three inches tall without counting the pointy horns that protrude around his cap.
The horned fiendsmurf gyrated his pelvis in an attempt to make Azrael back off. Sadly, the duck exploded in a cloud of feathers and chocolatey marshmallows, covering the Nine Hells in a layer of sickeningly sweet devil food cake cooked by the fomorian celebrity chef the Swedish Muppet.
"What the,...hey!" exclaimed the astonished fiendish Elvish imsmurfinator as he gazed at the chef in awestruck admiration.
"You ain't nothin' Murphysmorsy goorb gooorb ", mumbled a deranged cigar-chompin' sergeant Smurf: Sargy Smurf, to his captive cabbage patch kid.
The chef found animated celestial peppers and ground sugarbabies in a meaty foully congealing splatter across the walls of Pink Floyd's Animals mural, which include broken glass and other sharp objects. Hat pins, odd body parts, used Chapstick tubes, and gallons of Paul Stanley's sweat from his hairy (censored) combine to attract farspawned neo-othyughs and Ghouls's A-Pleanty to the party in his head.
Ace Frehley, the Master of Ceremonies lit up a guitar-launched rocket, just as Gene Simmons stuck his tounge out at Mr.
Feelgood and Ms Behaviour, who was drunk as hell, not to mention her unmentionables, which remained unmentioned. However, when Gene Simmons decided to mention that his tongue had caught fire when he licked a salamander groupie's red hot tail, a melee erupted upsetting everyone's knitting.
Hamsters fell from hampers in the rafters, covering everyone into fiendish undead half-hamster smurfs, which would attack Gargameld with an assortment of ninja weapons and complex crossbows whilst Azrael hissed, clawed and spat at Gene Simmons.
In a fit of middleaged angst, Gargameld flailed his arms around in great circles, clearing smurfs by the dozens off the Kiss stage; Ace sang, "Rock Bottom" while Smurfette, in jail, begged her pimp for a bottle of whiskey and a s'more.
Smurfette, with two double bourbon s'mores worn as pasties on her head called out to Orko, HeMan, Man-at-Arms, "Ch-ch-ch-check it out, g-g-g-gotta find out Wuh-w-w-workin' all about ", but Man-at-Arms just pissed on Orko, who was on fire, and shouted "PUT ME OUT!" Man-at-Arms said, "There's only one option.
You must promptly whip out your morningstar, and beat Orko until he becomes tenderised enough singing, "Tainted Love" and douse him in drunken spew and then, finally, oblivion for Eternia.
" "Excellent thinking, m'lord!" said Baldric as his master, the Great Vomit Taco applied a leech to his forehead while the fire was consuming Orko and laughed at his feeble attempts to contact authorities and inquire about carrying concealed handgrenades.
Forgotten amongst this the urine grew radioactive spores that infected Peter Parker and turned him into a mutated wallaby with a hand grenade in wrist, not webbing.
So the captain and Tennile sang a jolly shanty about warped lust amongst drunken kobolds. This catchy tune featured backmasking, praising the virtues of chastity and Porsches, as well as a subliminal message from Kurtulmak to summon a great number of fiendish hamsters to take breakdancing lessons from Ilsensine. The message was worded in Erelhei Cinlu slang so only cool dragon shamans could understand the injoke.
Everyone else would blithely assume that oranges are apples and would follow giant rubber pants, rhinestone studded, flares, off a cliff richard Christmas special - a fate worse than life, to be sure, if it meant life without Motörhead or access to umlauts in Chököladeküche-type words and other tasty oddly spelled treats.
Motley Crue umlautlessly cursed on television while they shot a family of Smurfs with their repeating crossbows, resulting in a TSK, (total smurf kill) then Nicky Sixx applied hair spray to Smurfette's bloodied scalp, while Vince Neil sang a lullaby to the traumatised onlookers. Finally, Mick Mars, who, incidentally, isn't really from Mars, or even outer space, he just looks like it, said "where is all the flowers gone?" Tommy Lee shrugged, as he couldn't comprehend anything, because he's sorta dumb.
Smurfette's carcass began to dance about in a spasmodic twitching rendition of the Zombie Chicken.
Pappa Smurf's Lich familiar, the ancient and inestimable Mr.
Jeeves, politely suggested that all of y'all had better git tuh steppin' real quick like then reverting to good ole shufflin' cards and drinkin' moonshine with them on a griddle covered in grease which Jeeves was pouring from a massive iron cauldron, where it concealed Dinty Moore Stew underneath all the mashed potatoes. The dance-happy zombie tiptoed out the door singing power balleds waving her lighter and brazenly removing her mosquito netting.
This turned out to be, or so we thought, an event of such immense immunosuppression that its significance was lost amongst the gelid throngs swarming, ant-like, around Orcus' birthday cake, feeding on the writhing icing as they themselves were fed upon by the sinister treat.
Having your cake, is usually fantastic, when it eats your enemies and lets you live.
However, to actually consume this repulsive baked good, one when used UNwisely when used UNwisely, will probably find the repulsive taste tolerable only if it's mixed with the unusually flavourful ground flame snake and wild blueberries.
The Cakemasters of the Nine Hells danced with hellish Macaroons of Ultimate Insidious Sinful Pleasure at the sight of uncountable numbers of writhing tentacles, Iron Chef Hell had become infested with a swarm of CIA students soliciting advice on how to prepare vermicelli with infernal ingredients such as kittens and humus.
So the competition from the Abyss for Fiendish Iron Chef concocted a new ice cream flavour: Broccoli Licorice Swirl and boiled kidneys with barbecue sauce served on crackers. This nauseating recipe weeded out those punk non-chef cooks lacking the iron cojones it takes to serve this pungent and viscous appetizer that stuns the palate with tasty reckless abandon.
The judges, who are all celestials, tasted the rancid food and puked vanilla and flower-scented maggots & firenewts because that's what they ate last.
The soup course teemed with unlifeforms, such as the ghoul anchovies swimming in the negative salty brain matter of an illithilich served with crackers.
And for dessert, the fiendchefs offered devil'sfood cake with hellfire-broiled stenchkow cheese The salad course animated and attacked the diners' gastrointestinal after dinner delight, provoking diners to spew their suppers at the chefs who cheered, and toasted the spewee with a hearty punch in the yapper, which led to a messy brouhaha of fisticuffin's , namecallin's and also some dirty spankin's - in short, good fierce fiery fun!
Then, without warning, Skeletor reappeared, cackling like a demented hyena hepped up on acid and overripe fermented fruit with his allies Beavisius and Buttheadacles. With a demented undead frog pet named Croakie, the vampire fiendish froghemoth.
This ensemble was very, very grumpy.
They began to rabblerouse and cajole faster and faster, their movements blurring into an odd montage of bits and pieces of soylent green raw matter, prompting onlookers to flee from the flesh tornado attacking Tasmanian Devil-style anything close enough to his mouth, claws or tail.
Three rabid monkeys and their mother-in-law the Demon Queen of Monkeys, AKA Monkeybread Baba Yaga o'the Banana Groves.
The foam-mouthed quartet breakdanced up to the shroom posse, "You got served," "aww, dang, yo!", moaned Skeletor's hangers-on, as Kermit the Funky Frog pulled out the mike and busted a rhyme like this: "Y'all think you know what it's finta be, boy, you so stupid your mama told me so," he rapped, before getting rotten stuff thrown over his head and under his pimped-out Scion boxcar.
It was forgettable, except to those Kevin Federline fans still at large for grand theft and falsely pretending to have talent or human DNA.
The rogue jumped ; he felt squirrely, as he suffered dozens of broken bones and bruises falling from a clifftop tree branch three feet high into a pile of potion bottles and lemon juice.
When Mr. T and Jet Li saw Cadillac Jones stumbling towards them, Mr. T looked away in disgust and said, "I pity the fool who make T drink prune juice from a paper cup! Git 'em!" *** Fisticuffs and puggeling *** The ensuing bloodbath and entrail shower continued for weeks as the epic juggernauts pummeled one of them into a fine paste which was slippery and smelt like cheap cognac and old broccoli broth.
Mr. T, when enraged, transforms into MumRa the everliving and everthirsty however improbable this might to the xorn, appear, it was quite true and would rock the kasbah, rock the vote and rock around the Christmas Tree. These facts are found in the mind-crystals of Wee Jas's managerie of tojanida witchdoctors.
Meanwhile, in a destitute mud hovel hourly hotel, two cloaked shapes furtively walked the alleyway twirling their purses while whistling the mating calls of adolescent aboleths. The oddly robed streetwalkers were caught by lawful good bugbears who gave them an option: either perform a virtuous act of contrition or go home.
Unsurprisingly, they chose to attack them, pounding them with fruit and vegetables, as well as well placed kicks to their shins from stilleto heeled cowboy boots. They did the bootscoot socks, fasten, zip and promenaded around the squealing bugbears while making faces like Anna Nicole on Howard Stern ; naturally, the bugbears enjoyed this immensely, being simple creatures who liked being grimaced at by mean old hookers, Anna Nicole soundalikes were snookering hookers with tales of derring do in faraway lands. "That's the way we eat fish tacos 'round these here backwoods communities," muttered a short, stocky troglodyte wererat, shaking his swordcane at an overly curious blunderbus wielding ogre.
Just then, a shadowy figure emerged from an adult magazine centerfold. It sounded like Anna Nicole, but looked even worse than she ever did.
This horrifying appariton lunged forth at the wererat with a blingbling grill, temporarily dazzling it while he drew forth the cane sword and skewered its bloated head like an olive in Beelzebub's martini.
With an unpleasant grimace, he slurped down the remainder of the expired apparition, but, it's born on date proved to be several centuries ago; nauseated he spewed partially digested hamburgers all over his mother's beast friend, a dire poodle who was hungry for a proper roasted aurumvorax sandwich.
His mother was giddy with glee because she hated aurumvoraxii with a homicidal passion; once, as a girl, she had been on an expedition to the hidden flying saucer dungeon of puzzling perplexity and was bitten on the ankles by a corgi.
Ever since then, squat, ugly animals she hated anything that resembled them.
Speaking of squat, juggling dwaven midgets makes no sense if you've broken up with Britney ; without her, midget-juggling just isn't the wholesome pasttime she sanctions while nude.
So Tristan Tiddlewink poured maple syrup all over his pallid bloated flesh in order to attract fire ants to give him a burning sensation in certain places of his physique. This crazy fetish called "picnicing" by Dr. Phil, was all the rage among bored paladins of the Hungry, yet Virtuous, Order Of the Verbosity Of Vermin Fetishists of The Garter.
This monastic order of fries for ninety nine cents nicely complemented the Big Monk sammich at the circus.
The freaky paladins didn't like circusses, or circumcisions, or those little, orange, oompah loompah men slathered in mustard.
What they liked was cash, lots of small bills from waterfowl, and the toes of snarky werewolves. These tributes were collected by turncoat celestials and telekenised to make snarky gestures all while screaming "Hands off our toenails and waterfowl you rancid pustule thing." Anyhow, back where the wild cigarette smokin' army of the Seventh Layer of Hell where the jocks Elminster uses frequently with or without powder, can be purchased with cartons of listerine antiseptic at half off from some guy with one leg.
According to rumour, Britney Spears is exiting the limo with her pet psuedonatural gibbering mouther named Harris Piltdown and showing off her new improved bionic breast implants ;"oops," she said, "I did it wit' Keven Federline, and Glenn Danzig who sang Mother to my mother!" Poor Britney, she just can't catch the last pokemon like she caught the mumps from that guy she interacted with at that backdoor clinic the Mickey Mouse Clubbers frequented to treat acne, bubonic and demonic plagues.
Speaking of demonic, Chip and Dale possessed by Graz'zt, went totally nuts (get it? They're chipmunks! Nuts!) and stole the Slug of complete Uselessness from the San Diego Zoo, where it had a lung transplant a pedicure, a phrenological personality adjustment ala Joe Pesci, and, finally, a fresh coat of coconut body oil applied by trained dominatrix elephant seals from the renowned penguin spanking exhibition at the Museum of Weird Stuff.
Once they had milk and pepsi, they doused the infernal heat of Nessus' most smokin' barbecued baatezu butt and ate salad with pureed broccoli vegepygmy men who tasted good with ranch dressing on the side. Additionally, Gargameld the wizard, recently killed by drinking lich juice, was festering lifelessly in a vat of olive oil rancid since July.
Jokey Smurf, giggling, smacked Conan Smurf into Lemmy Smurf causing Smurfy dominoes to tumble and upset the baskets of spare organs and Yamaha synths played by juvenile black dragon bards while Inagotta Davita breakdanced over the Smurf mosh pit A pickpocket worked out with Arnold Palmer to improve his clubbing skills with a putter and a flail - a two-weapon combo with french fries which, when super-sized, the monkey grip feat enabled him to sink putts from five metres.
The sea boiled with writhing eels but then again the sea was always known for things that writhed and not the everyday sort of a draggin' slacker who very slowly slid out of view from the leering dire badgers rooting through their manpurses. In perspective, he probably should've graduated from highschool before performing surgery on his own pancreas after imbibing moonshine squeezed from the living rock which was known by snarky angels and snarkier werewolves and the snarkiest anarchic dire lemure made from the Rob Zombie movie, Spank My Naughty Grandma's Pony, based on a true story centered in a small rural section of London where pig farming and sheep rustling in Hyde Park were punishable by having your toes eaten off by tiny little crablike devils that angered their victims through clever use of papercuts and salt.
The next torment was to watch as their organs were tuned by a wascally wabbit, who was tonedeaf thus having little trouble playing the drums or the evil, intelligent didgeridoo.
The wicked thrumming of this despicable goateed wind instrument coloured blue. When riding the lightning rails, Oprah often likes to sit on top of a straining bugbear as a display of her power over low-CR humanoids and other scurvy -ridden pests, such as bloody locathah and swarming kobolds and news reporters wielding rusty hacksaws while moaning "Braiiiinsssss" and looking for misbehaving zombies to bolster ratings for Andy Griffith Reunion with Don Knotts and Motley Crue as the Beaver.
Oprah's peculiar behavior made snarky bald midgets everywhere upset since sitting on them makes their faces turn bright blue. Also, they don't appreciate lard in their applesauce in lumpy white Ethergaunts, who angrily thrash about in ethereal fishing nets don't like spam cheesecake either. When they squeeze cheese, the results disappoint conisseurs of fine artificially flavored cheese spread products. Spanky, a cheese reprobate, decided to juggle three flaming burst philips head screwdrivers to impress his shop class teacher and his new robot girlfriend, named Woodchopping Unit #3 who was heartless but had irresistable magnets on her Jennifer Lopez booty on the apex of Midsummer's Eve ; after that, her buxom, cunningly bodiced sister... (slap!) mother...
Super Chopper #4 severed the head of Drizzt Do'Urden and fed it to Mr. Nibblekins, her intellectual pet half-dragon fiendish hamster with seventeen levels of the Spelunker NPC class, which when combined with the robo-babe's low cut blouses, allowed her to flaunt her copious chesthair braided in sexy dreadlocks, enticed the headless Driz'zt to mezmerization, enchantment, and dirty limericks. There once was a beggar from Greyhawk who had sortof a marvelous Mohawk he held out his mace, and hit his own self in the face; now that's how you make end to smalltalk!
He then screamed "The Hymn of Zagyg the Mad" as he flogged a startled bypasser with a flaming burst cat-o-nine-tails, rending his lacy petticoats and looking for new ways to throttle himself with fancy feather boas made from couatls stuffed with beholderkin and beholderbarbies, and those hairy beholderdoggies with googly eyes and wagging eyestalks and drool all over the place.
Anyway, when the clowns started turning blue and puffy from choking on green tea-flavored barbequed dragon ribs, which were charbroiled and smeared with the Colonel's secret aftershave admixture. The burning pain caused Nic Cage to scream nonsensical lymerics like "Not the rack again!!!!" His agent spoke up in an attempt to dissuade him from "Wickerman II: Return of the 13th Friday Texas Care Bear". However, Nic was into sub-mediocre performances; after he sustained major damage to his frontal lobe during his own childbirth when his teeth inexplicably caught on tape, showed up to audition for "Peggy Sue got Sued" but didn't get cast as their audition sucked more than Menudo, but they hired Scott Baio to do voice-over narration for Gargameld's nephew, who had a pet fiendish cockatoo fetish that drove the Audubon Society into frothing rage over the inhumanity of having to save another cockatoo fetishist from having his wicked way with the damned birds. In the casting office, confused old men smashed big jars of liquified Big Macs for American Idol auditions, but Paula Poundstone started singing Jimmy Buffet's "Margaritaville" thrash style with Slash on guitar and Roy Clark on the didgeridoo which Paula Abdul unfailingly praised as "reallyreallyreally --BLORF!-- good!" Simon, on the other hand, was drinking Paula's vomit with great relish and cave toad -flavoured marzipan. This exotic, esoteric dish, an English favourite, sells well at Star Trek conventions where Klingon cuisine just isn't enough.
Fortunately, the cave crickets flew straight at his car, mistaking it for a giant mushroom upon which sat a tiny, yet immensely corpulent being whose unnatural proportions defied corset strength and the laws of several states.
One time, at a fancy-dress reception, a strange bard tooted a ditty about the virtues of a besotted monk obsessed with handwashing and counting M&Ms. It was a purely phobic tune that always managed to stir the savage breast lurking beneath the purple monkey dishwasher.
the song had inexorably led to gushing nosebleeds and loudly ringing ears when Menudo played "Sweet Home Alabama" The crowd jumped and moshed wildly, some wearing Depends, Ricky Martin wearing brightly coloured galoshes and a toupee made from peacock feathers and dragon pellets dyed to perfection using ancient and arcane methods created by Druidic hill dwarves who were once hippies but later decided shaving their armpits got more attention from hot gnome chicks who love everything about those crazy little clockwork girl toys the gnomes created. Exothermic reactions in the magma-filled chambers of Godzilla's tonsils caused fire to erupt from Godzooky's butt, reducing the crowd by one third.
However, the remaining people lit their curiously odiferous pipes, greatly annoying the awakening King Ghidora because he was totally "straight edge" about the whole square suit-and-tie polluter types. Ghidora moshed with Rodan in the front of the Metropolitan Museum of Modron Art as Celine Dion desperately tried to sing her megahit "Rapper's Delight" in three part harmony.
Gigan grew tired of the racket and impaled Celine on his large helmet spike, spinning her like a ragdoll on a turntable. Dizzy and still spewing from an old egg-and-mayo sandwich, found under Grandma's kitty-litter box Granny Baba Yaga occasionally filled with the excretia of her pet diplodocus the "snake-headed Hippopotamus" from the far-away swamps of Gondwanaland (or maybe Graceland) where Elvis Plesiosaur strummed a guitar, while absently munching a Loch Ness -style deep fried carrion crawler legs and beer-battered bull bulette bollox Big Bowl of Bran, for regularity, as well as the recommended daily amount of vitamin Z, which stands to reason that they have run out of the in door, causing a catastrophic collision with the outward edge of the Paraelemental Plane of Ooze, home of the Oozebournes: Oozy, Juliooze, Oozymandias and The Wizard of Ooze. Located deep under Carnac's porch, Oozy Oozebourne was reluctantly dragged out of his drug-induced happy place, in plain view of Doctor Phil's entire tapeworm entourage, which came marching out to witness the Backstreet Boys Reunion Christmas Special. Woozily, Oozy whined, "I'm gonna throw up now, unless someone objects...No? Okay...
I warned you...
BLARGGHHH!...Well that made me feel like a hunk of burnin' love meatloaf with tasty extra-hot Tabasco sauce I love sweetloaf!" The rouge rogue wearing the red riding hood, skipped gleefully through the aisles of dread Missed the Rope and tumbled into a portable hole filled with lox, bagels, and putrid horseradish. "Eeeewwww!", cried Dave Thomas, founder of DaveMart, where it's half-off all mayo-based foodstuffs because their mayo is half the calories of their month-old tuna salad and 4/7 more filling than Spam. Concurrently, irate Spam partisans clashed with emailies over the cullinary uses for tripe and blue cheese, so Iron Chef gagged the werewolf with hideous food that was laced with colloidal silver belladonna and broccoli.
Evil Broccolimen who will rule the salad bar at the giant's luncheon gathered their weapons to attack Spinachveria, intending to enslave the Popeyevigoths under lycanthropic marzipanian tureens for Zeech's conspicuous gastronomic excesses. Furthermore, the cauliflower templated demoness with oversized elephantine feet intervened in the name of the jedi with no name.
The Demoness declared it a snowday because popcorn covered what was viewable postponing the attack of Marshmellow Men.
But Chocolate Soldiers find popcorn delicious and decided to capture the Colonels kernels to make Orville's reanimated body do the twist again, like he did so many, many eons ago.
Unlike last summer when he played a transvirtual bard on World of Warcraft, this time basing her on Cher, despite the confusion caused by Britney's bald head.
"Bards ain't supposed to not be interesting and flamboyant", said a lisping galavanting meat puppet.
"Bards should be served with couscous and roasted garlic for hobgoblin debutante sweet sixteens. Parents everywhere also hate Justin Timberlake because his wispy beard because the lice Huh? What happened? Justin Timberlake's beard got caught in a temporal anomaly a temporal anomaly a temporal temporal anomaly with the Stargate : Somewhat Remote Space Explorers With Guns, and subsequently evolved into the gnarliest tangled nest of grasping vermicelli-like tentacles this side of Phyllis Diller's wig.
The "healers" found that all attempts to revive the career of Alan Thicke, whose thinning nose hair fell like kobolds in battle with a spellstitched zombie dire koala. Over time, all wounds heal, except for those that don't make Mona's cut list.
When the Pleides video game was playtested by celestials it was a dark and stormy afternoon in the demiplane of Wisconsin, home of the cheesehead templated green Giant, purveyor of ho ho ho's.
The upset Ding-Dongs, "lavern and shirley", and Squiggy, but they left Lenny the "Lone Wolf" dancing with Carmine.
The Giant's loud phonograph played perpetually the tinkling tunes of ornate overtures while wiley wolves cavorted cantankerously, calling fakey forth for a kegger of Jäger and a line-dancing contest. As Whitney Houston was getting some "refreshments", King Louis XVI went to the local priestess of spam and jelly to get his samwich on. He was out of pickles and horseradish for his favorite gastronomic concoction - the Hell-a-peno pepper and jelly beans and coke and poprocks 'n' mustard sammich.
Roll for constitution...
and for constipation, HE ROLLED "1"!
An ominous rumbling behind the bookcase heralded the arrival of Lardbelly, the misnamed anorexic halfling who is known for his lack of bodily-function control.
Everybody roll inititive...
Lardbelly is flatfooted and thus vulnerable, due to his clown sized feet.
Happily he added three action points to his total amount of damage when using his most excellently balanced dozing flamingo stance which he learned from the janitor.
Meanwhile back at Justice League headquarters, Gleek made a run to the turbo flush for the tenth time that day. "What's wrong with me?" he wondered as contemplated the universe.
All the sudden, Explode upon contact with the green manalishi with the Red Ruby in a cocktail glass mixed with molten incoherent message board scattershot random concepts by scattershot random bystanders. "Ouch, I've hit a nerve oh, no, wait it's not mine but that Troglodyte flavored jello shot "eeewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww! thats raunchy!!" he screeched as Mr.Shiney drank it!
The sober werewolf needed one too.
The black-lotus brandy favoured by the ungodly, dirty mouthed two-pronged horn wearin' demon wannabe ninjas that call themselves my freinds! But lately I've felt a little tingling in my pancreas Islets of Langerhaans and the bilious puss oozing forth smells suspiciously like Heathansson's mangey fur scalped from angelboy for three fifty.
Poppa Zit Smurf, needing vast quantities of cologne to clean his bathtub, hitched a ride on Heavy Metal Has-been's reunion tourbus bound for Cleveland and noticed.... Trixter Starship Zeta Three was moving faster than the speed-limit, which was already 12 parsecs per nanosecond. Meanwhile, in the local bar better known as "The Bloody Lip", Rollins Band was doin' Zep covers and skateboarding about like overcaffeinated toddlers snorting pixie stix of all flavors.
Upon seeing this decieded sleep was needed by misspellers and jumbo shrimps are delicious, too, especially during inclement weather involving lava.
If you eat to the beat of flat feet leeks and beets, disguised as treats you might meet on Sesame Street the Hollywood elite slit the sheet of frozen sleet.
Corn and wheat and fresh meat cooked to eat for the ultimate gastrointestinal culinary experience MMMMMMMM! FOOD! roared the moose-headed rakshasa as they brought *V - that visual made my head hurt* twelve courses of dinner prepared by xorns on major undead mutant squirrels eating magic nuts and swinging from the crystal chandeliers of Fraz'Urb'Luu's* favorite *Is that one word? Luby's Cafeteria in the Gray Waste downtown Burbank Cathulinia.
The Frazster, as his homies call him when he gets a new keg of premium Klingon bloodwine to pour on his froghemoth and get it all fired up to run in the big Kentucky froghemoth derby agaist overwieght flumphs pulling dogsleds with rabid dire wolves in his trousers and starving stirges chasing them for all their tasty bodily fluids. After flossing with Fluffy the Floss Golem and gargling his invisibility potion, he made his butt glow with eery red luminescence, which attracted many hungry stirges that swarmed like dwarves to nuggets of gold screaming, "Ole! The tide has turned!" as they ran, pursued by flocks of Tiny half- illithid flesh-eating crickets.
They ran into Warduke and Raistlin, those lovable rogues, so misunderstood and maligned by society, yet so incredibly butch and studly, as they scrapbooked pressed wildflowers, did Amway parties together drank tea all in tea cups, (with pinkies up) with Polly Prissypants and her pals.
Warduke played dressup in Destiny's closet, and got mommy's blood all over her fave sundress after a careless spill from his attempt at walking while blind-folded, which made his mother accidentaly disembowel herself with an icecream cone when she fell on it ruining the dessert and impaling it on the end of her collarbone.
It was pistachio.
Then Raistlin had a sick idea; using leftover Pistachio including body fluid as the ingredients in his latest potable concoction: Bahama -Rama Drizzle Frizzle.
The drink's "oomph" was caused by a chymical reaction involving a catalyst and a dogalyst merging to form a roastbeef sammich with melted cheese, and Warduke's brain.
This aberrant concoction is best enjoyed a la mode anglais (i.e. with english ice cream, horseradish and mint) good stuff, aye.
Lately, however, Asmodeus Johnson, the star of Infernal Idol had sounded suspiciously like that English rabble-rouser Chris DeBurgh that pocky bastard, and that was ironic...like ra-ay-ain on Aberzombie's wedding ; normally, infernal idols only cover Manilow or worse, Bolton.
Shatner guest hosted and liked the Idol show, because he, of course, sounded better than Steven Seagal's latest attempts at music; which, by the gods was horrid as he sings heathansson likes pizza and I got those pepperoni bluuuuuuuues.
Scattered, fearful applause started by "Squinty-heads", sounded like golf-claps by gnome children, but built up to thunderous applause like "GIANT HANDS" "What was that?!?" wondered the befuddled Bozak from Krynn named Lefty. "I can't stand the sound of so happy a place devoid of all forms of life it's just spooky.
Why can't we all just get a pet Fhiphu's ? By the way, that's not his pizza you just turned all gooey, it was his left and right soft man bits.
"Ouch!" Said the Bozak in question.
"That was actually quite uncalled for."
Then suddenly a giant space hamster named Chico Grande pulled up in a souped-up YT1300 (you all know what a YT1300 is, right?) with stowaway droids and a sammich compartment next to Chewie's porn collection which was starting *dangit I hate being the 1st poster on a page!* to get old One hand clapping in the darkness Sounds like Chewie floating air biscuits and smells like butter and honey.
"I can't feel my legs!" screamed The cyberman leader with short arms and no neck.
Dr. Who's on deck, preparing to wax poetic, while on the planet of the Hamster all carbon-based life and carbonated life, made ready for Dalek-rules football season which normally starts twelve minutes after Ab Fab reruns, but before the launching of the newest line of hybrid engine Daleks, which run on pre-painted plastic miniatures and dragons tears ; monkey stabbin' fun!!!" Go Weregators!", screamed The Doctor, while performing delicate surgery to remove hemorrhoids from an unwilling taxidriver named Tony who screamed painfully when hitting pot-holes.
A beautiful woman in the tardis asked a nearby Dalek named Rusty Nail where to go the loo while in the workshop, Fineous Wunderbarfly pointed the way to the nearest interdimensional transmission relay station/site/tower to reconfigure the transmorgraphier and the atomic superfrapulator ray so they focused on derezzing the outer ectoprotoplasmic halo in hyperspace-diskinetico-temperoflux-inhibition mode Then it busted.
The tardis materialised exactly where they least expected it, which was behind a draco-lich on the potty. "What do you have for toilet paper asked the undead commode using behemoth of flesh and mummified skin strapped to its emaciated carcass. "What the heck I gotta skedaddle", quipped the toiletpaper dispensor gnome as he made for the exit; the juddering gastrointestinal rumblings of the draco-lich suddenly let up, and an aggrivated juddering was (yup. Finished Perdido; workin' slowly but surely thru the Scar. I'm gonna finish it this time fer sure!!!) indicating that it was time to poop or get off the pot.
Promptly, the gnome did so and skulked back to toilet paper mountain to brood over his lack of a better career while he gorged himself on roasted afterbirth with cashews (I like cashews) and tadpole soup which of course The Doctor called an interesting local "My money maker!"
an interesting local
culinary treat, reminiscent of braised aluminium in a castle "That's good eatin'!" exclaimed the gnome, sitting in a mushroom recliner. "I love pickled cigars and a snifter in my house full of brandy."
The gnome's wife, a rather ugly clone of Ellen wanted to buy Heathansson's gall bladder because it was of sentimental value to her nephew, the Duke of Gaul, who collected items both rare and sticky. However, Heathansson was unwilling to sell his favorite internal organ, unless he was allowed to replace it with a (you guys don't know how sick this thread is, do ya? I hate gallbladders. Hatem, I tell's ya! They're a useless organ, and I hates em!!! I scan people with gallbladder trouble (or not) at work...) (and, additionally, me wife had to have hers out when she was 5 months pregnant. Gallbladders suck!!!) tootsie roll pop. Yikes. Sorry about that, Heathansson. I thought I was being funny, or at least cheeky, when I wrote that. I didn't realize I was hitting a sore spot. Mea culpa, and many apologies. Gnome and wife warily approached the lycanthropic gallbladder sack (no, it's all good. I was just joking. It's all 100% true, it's just kinda funny in an ironic way. Who could know? There are few people who, like me, have such a vile hatred of the gallbladder.) which still pulsed with cholecystic contractions oddly in rythmn to a wonderful NULL bossa nova tune.
The Wight then saw his opportunity to get even with the wee bastard sword in the swiss cheese, apply liberally to exposed surfaces before washing off the ooze of Cthulhu and: presto! Your gallbladder with Swiss is ready for tingling your tastebuds with a side fried Cthulhu and some mashed Nyarlothep with sour cream So, the wight ate some broccoli 'n'licorice ice cream with a cherry on the side of the pickled mephit. Meanwhile, the vegepygmy spinach surprise was wondering around mumbling, "I'm Popeye the Sailor Salad."
This was funny because he actually was eating himself, with croutons and Thousand Island dressing.
AND getting stronger.
Soon he was the size of an unusually large froghemoth named Kermit, but looked like the imaginary Snuffalufagus in a rainstorm.
Fozzie the Dire ninja squirrel told Animal, the berzerker Bard of Birmingham, that Rolf, the infamous Impaler of boomerang fish needed more fur if he is going to accurately portray The Great Gonzo.
Animal quickly went ate his drumsticks, strapped on proboscis *happy 2nd birthday to this thread by the way* ;o) sang, "Beat it," whenever exposed to Coca-cola and Poprocks. Miss Piggy was finally able to get the surgery to fix that unseemly blemish on the back of her right hamhock which she found while she was stretching her hamstrings.
Kermit finally snapped and twisted Scooter's freakin' pinhead the requisite 360 degrees accomplishing that which everyone wanted to do but were unable due to bizarre warps in the time-space continium!
Piiiiiigs....in....Spaaaaaaaaaace!!!
strapped on proboscis *happy 2nd birthday to this thread by the way* ;o)
*this thread's older than my daughter!!!" Great Scott!" exclaimed Doctor Brown, wild-eyed frantically turned to Professor Plum in the conservatory with an everburning candlestick and muttered, "Can't get 1.21 gigawatts into the flux capacitators, which means I can't have breakfast on the go in 1985 or dinner in the not too far removed temporal lobe of a fiendish mindflayer bard whose music is backwards masked with twisted iambic pentameter telling people to "submit your brains packed in dry-ice for mint julep and crumpet debauchery!".
Many hypnotized youths began synchronized chanting and wearing hats that covered their covered in lichen, mold and barnacles and racoon tails which proves idiocy isn't limited to hypnotized youths, but can be shared amongst any willing werewolves or other noble breeds, ironically.
Other contagious afflictions spread like wildfire in a dry 18th-century manor house washed in turpentine and filled with corn husks. Now along came the Spider who sat on Lolth's favorite velvet throne cushion and turned off Lolth's i-pod; this made Lolth say, "Where's Puppy love? I need my Osmonds and my Troggs. Need to get my groove on or else eat a priestess of Eilistraee, sauted with onions and artichokes hearts. Say, do I smell something burning? That pristess was cleaned, skinned, and sauteed an hour ago!
Someone must have left the bazier burning with a leftover chunk of Al Bundy's thigh sitting on top of an overcooked intellect devourer. Some mindflayers have all the luck!" Then as if you weren't already hanging by your fingertips, an even MORE appalling apparition appeared a zombie Elvis Costello impersonator, in the blackest leather mask and shiny chain leashes with matching boots and various body piercings in protruding places which made him a dorky celestial. Heathansson's flaky rash decision to attack caused a disruption of minor proportions as he slowly navigated his way through the undercity[/url] along with his weiner dog, Klaus.
When all of [url=smurf] the smurphin' shenanigans kept getting into [/url] the code of Ethics for the Paizo programming staff Gargameld chortled, exhorting that the king[url=smurf] his feline minion was the best smurfish code monkey at hunting down the little blue drug addled hippies.
The oxymoron mouser strikes again. Superman[/url] can't even find the secret of[url=smurf] life, the universe, and yogurt, but[/url] at least his hair was perfect.
A delicious bowl of angelhair pasta Wahaha! I am Bic Pentameter, the Evil Lord of the Sith, whose lightsaber got shoved[url=smurf] up the southend of an angry Hutt named Jo-Bob Biggs, the creepiest Hutt-porn aficionado in all of Maryland.
But I digress, The Hef of all Hempmonaland, Lord Cheech N. Chong, got buzzed on [/url] space mead from the planet Melmac in the Crab Cake Constellation of the Whirlpool Galaxy.
This nebulous area of space was the driving ground[url=smurf] for a prototype of a self-oiling construct, also able to run without any shoes on.
This construct was made from styrofoam pebbles and teensy-weensy machines that "PING!" and shaped like a giant roper intertwined with a[/url] couatl and a axiomatic fiendish stirge.
Most observers thought the construct would[url=smurf] revolutionize the industry Shout 'M'nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnar' at passersby, and generally shout 'M'naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar'whenever Windows(tm) updates installed.
However, this prediction proved false, so the styrofoam golem left to languish in a ditch next to the witches that slam into whiny lawyers with their Winnibagos on the freeway.
Apparently speed limits are ignored in[/url] the Republic of Rome, since horses such as Miracle and Secretariat are such speedy runners that they cannot be accurately measured by the Sands of Time Police.
Speaking of Police, the rabbit police[url=smurf] were once again setting records for most reproductive activity among the quadrupedal druids of the Spirits in the Sky, that's where they found the[/url] Golden Apple of My Eye. Sweet!
But the apple was in a terrible condition because it had been tasted by Nibblekins whom we know can not resist any substance containing arsenic and chalk ; it tends to leave an aftertaste pleasing to those who normally prefer made the kender...
render the bender "Return to Sender."
Speaking of kender, Tas came skipping like a flat anvil across magma only to crash hard and fast into a wall of Red Rover playin' gargantuan ropers with bloodshot eyes and impassable tentacles.
However, all was not well in Toyland, because the pre-teen roper games were getting dangerous for the little[url=smurf] roperling tykes that eagerly participated in them while balanced over the precipice above hungry xorns.
The xorns went[/url] crazy from hunger despite their diet of aluminum foil and cubic zirconium found in the[url=smurf] Golden Corral's buffet, jewelry store dumpster, and in the "treasure" hoard of the great green[/url] god, who sits on his throne of lies. You know that he's a breakdancing ninja with levels in dread pirate, archmage, and Snarky Rouge.
This is because Detroit is a festering cesspool of extraordinary magnitude. Klahn the Shifty, son of the magnificently huge P. Pelor acquiesced to the[url=smurf] demands of his gurgling stomach and fed it some[/url] tasty ribs from a delicous xorn McDonald's and quickly[url=smurf] eat the golden ticket to Wonka's chicken mcnugget factory, whose secret processes were protected by a rabid wildebeast[/url] with lasers attached to the sphincter, enabling it to blow smoke out of the precision-engineered orafice of doom on the backsides of the Oompa-Loompas when they sang "Now yer messin' Tiny little Pixies wit' them ole Broken Gulch Boys " and other tunes.
The hyena said[url=smurf] "Now yer messin'
An explosion of[/url] chicken potpies hit the proverbial fan and scattered the remains of the[url=smurf] day all over the hills of Anauroch. The pieplates gang from Hlaungadath[/url] inexpertly snuck closer to the deaf but cranky manticore intending to grab[url=smurf] a handful of feathers from its[url=smurf][/url] upper left earlobe grabbed an arrow
upper left earlobe
because their magical arrows needed them awake and alert to listen for the quiet buzzing (Congrats on post 5000, Heathy!) of the bees (I had no idear.) through the trees as the wheeze with the breeze (but without cheese) of the Vietnamese who owed fees for the sneeze caused by allergies while begging, "PLEASE" to Squidlow McSqueeze on their knees as McSqueeze decrees "I HATE PEAS!" They're round, and squishy and taste like little, nasty round green vegepygmies!!!
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Senior Software Developer
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The rogue leaped from his rouge breaches when he tasted the delicious Mentos he stole from Dave Grohl during the Festival of the Scraggly Facial Hair Afficianodos where ZZ Topp placed second, behind Blackbeard the Pirate who was jealous of all dwarves and their full and lustrous braids was a really long nosehair transplant advocate; he liked apples, oranges, and smurf berry crunch mixed with glowing[/url] radioactive materials like technetium ninety-nine metastable, or Mountain Dew.
In other news, traffic was backed-up due to construction of great pyramidical tops being capped with whipped cream.
The Stock Market took a major plunge as these crazy, crazy nights and sane days blended together in a delicious smoothie fit for a [url=smurf] chronotyryn (they love smoothie roman-styled orgies) imperator! Indeed, these evil hASSbro cultists have made a mess of things and crapped the most outlandishly unnatural hell out of what everybody considers to be the tastiest of snacks: Cheesy Dragon Thins!
The hungry ones slavered in anticipation for their chow ; this rare delicacy was enjoyed along with fava beans and fried lard and smurf brains (same thing, really) they equally relished anything too slow to run away from the flashlight in their grasping tentaclesque member; it illuminated weakly, but squirted bile all over the assembled menagerie of shambling gypsies performing with[/url] lots of enthusiasm.
Fortunately, the shambling heap (a distant, aptly named, relative ) remembered to bring the exotic fruit[url=smurf] a fresh pair of Spider-man Underroos, reasonably clean socks, and footie pajamas.
Meanwhile, back in the dank lair of the wretched undead grell blackguard,[/url] an unusual confluence of radiant energy[url=smurf] burst forth from a glowing gemstone the grell had recently purchased from the "Gems for Humanity" outlet store[/url]. This gem, however, was the power-source for Doc Brown's patented nose-hair trimmer.
This revolutionary product is now available online at www.paizo.com\docbrown\nosehairbegone [url=smurf]. However, the evil grell wasn't impressed.
After all, it didn't have nosehair in the recesses[url=smurf][/url] it could reach.
Instead, the device's power-source would be
power-source would be
propelling its newest invention, the Automatic butt lint transmogrifier that goes "BOINK".
However, the resulting industrial waste polluted Smurf habitats everywhere resulting in terrible ninja pirate zombies.
Papa Smurf Lich cackled maniacally at the bats circling the undead dungpile left by Gargameld who had gone through the swamp on his dirtbike frantically chasing after Cooper Carlysle who just stole a chicken. The low-down bike was precisely what he needed for his pimp with a limp, 'cause his gimp ate bad shrimp (what a wimp) and went limp, the stupid chimp, in the blimp fought the imp and didn't skimp, primp, or simp.
Jimmy the Crimp liked to primp his way to to his blimp for to primp his purdy hair (he did swear) and use nair so people'd stare at his "flair" made of square buttons commemorating Cher when she'd wear very little underwear on a dare just to scare a grizzly bear at the fair. Fair? Au contraire.
Wuz you there? Did you stare at the lair of the taer? My fair share spare in my nommme de guerre shave my hair or I swear and do declare rabbit equals hare not Paddington Bear.
I got shoes I got socks, get out m'way, dear sweet Goldilocks.
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Senior Software Developer
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Hallmark hired Heathy (Cut...) <<Rewind>> (Take 2) The rogue leaped to ignore attempts to grab his Thrall of Orcus henchman, Gorathorag Volorugoris, to prepare the [/url] Pathfinder submission guidelines which were lost....
at sea during a Storm of platypus which somehow manifested in the garden of Eden, startling the residents drinking their tea and reading Sunday's Christian Science Monitor (the article about David's critical hit s and misses). However, the platypus became[url=smurf] An animal God and demanded that mammals lay eggs and furry ducks will rule the multiverse! Puny humanoids Fear our webbed feet, for they cannot comprehend toes or toe jam.
For in the ancient tongue of the barbarian tribes of the Hanna all they do is sit around, watching NASCAR and drinking Pabst Blue
drinking Pabst Blue
"special" fruit punch and count the burnt-out pickup trucks that exploded because of intestinal gas leakages; the non-vulcanised Charcoal i ate because I have lingering after-effects from when the +10fire breathing bastard sword that Russell Crowe used in his chili con carne abruptly turned on the rotissere oven with the spitted last Sunday. Truly, it was completely and totally Gladiator-riffic!
At that point the tigers were two runs ahead of the eviscerators at the bottom of the ninth with two outs and a man in a tree.
The bat was GIANT, it's wingspan nearly 12 feet cast a big shadow on the outhouse door. Why the bullpen didn't hold up under pressure, I can't imagine something about Mary. On the contrary, it was down to the last pitcher, Xorny o' the Mullet to strike out - or else he would die today in a humourous, ironic kind of post apocolyptic way...
with an explosion of gummi bears and grape poprocks in malomar bar and moon pie with extra toppings for $5.95. The explosion's messy leftovers were attracting carrion crawlers with tourettes, moist towlettes, majorette and flechette. This punjent purple paste ate the small, innocuous insect that got squashed when Xorny's famous "Heavyball" hit its foes right in the proximal metatarsals, thus Just drop in Capitan Sylvester Ignacious hero of neverland and cousin of Pvt. Walter O'Reilly. The good Capitan scratched his pet on the belly next to it's uh.., hum..., thingy!
Yowling happily, the Chimerian blink dog chortled and huffed and licked itself.
Pleased the pet.., so many tongues, but who knew old man karl the lighthouse keeper who had once sailed around the hot tub in[/url] a drunken stupor revealing all to[url=smurf] his blue allies: three secrets of Marloc the mad, as well as Huckleberry Werehound Jimbo And His Howling Commandos: Blue Oyster Sauce, Nair Supply, The Blue Boy, jumped in the hot lz h.a.l.o.
end of sentence.
Mike eight Romeo was the code uttered by the point man to the rouge rogue to sweep left and hop over a smurf house on fire. "Hooray" yelled the cheerleaders, "Burn! Burn! B-U-R-N!!
Fire is GOOD!
Come on baby, Golden, Fire Baby Burn, baby, burn the chearleader caught wind of a foul odor, coming from the leaves of the tree Thus she quieted.
The abyssal oak looked really nice uprooting itself and urinating on the mindless thread posters who had thought they were safe were not. Winter finally arrived, chilling the land. Morning found the frosty dwarf inn crowded with Helix fans drinking gallons of prune juice. Then, who should appear Air Supply, obviously expecting to find groupies but were surprised to see Bea Arthur spread out before them with sushi balanced on a ten foot pole stuck in nether regions of Kathy Lee. Page 108, said See 985, Sexual "Pardon me miss.", "but this is really insane! You knowwhatimean, Vern?" While 1000 bouncing gnomes did their thing, bells began to chime and ring ring and chime rock the bells the Hell bells to the tune The devil beckons "MOO MOO MOO!
Klaatu barada nikto.
Three devils appeared carrying gift baskets filled with oversized Otis Spunkmeyer Muffins and some yummy samplers of cheese.
Accompanying the devils three bright red fire-engine Transformers and a gaggle of gargling Fraggles from the prune-juice breweries of the infernal retirement homes of of former archdevils Statler and Waldorf who were in cahoots with Roscoe the underworld janitor and Mr. Pepe the JFK impersonator sedated the movie critic Rex Reed rubber tubing and lots and lots of razor blades to shave the the first layer of skin from the family jewels "PLEASE GOD MAKE the pain go on and on no; oh it burns ouch. Crows, attracted by the stench of rotting nut sack flesh, gibbered and cavorted, and pecked soft the susurrus undertone as a gazillion razorblades stood up and rasped mutedly yearning to flense the soft hides of newborn unicorns. Frigid sylphs moaned "I'm hungry! Gimme something sweet. We are hungry, horny , and horrifyingly weird."
"Feed us, love slaves, or else!" Else it was.
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Senior Software Developer
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The rogue leaped out of the path of a tojanida named Steve, as the scoundrelly turtle beast barrelled towards an apocalyptic end but not before he discovered deep feelings for the music of Stompfoot Fleetwood band, especially their mega-hit Yellow Blood House, which everybody knows nothing about. The[/url] charm of this famed anonymousity for largely unnoticeable nuances frolic and laughter is that one can jam righteously, immaculately and extensively on riffs from the back catalogue of Led Zepplin and The Police.
This however was but is not possible, as the
possible, as the
aforementioned by-product of.., the greasy spot under his chin that looked like Sebastian, who as we all know was a greasy Elvis lookalike. Surprisingly, he dated more Elvis lookalikes than whats his name with the moustache and the twitchy exophthalmic vulturine eye underneath his strangely spasming ear that moved across his face whenever dryads whispered his name.
His nose, however, remained firmly attached but sometimes mistaken for a particularly gruesome trunk, or a herpes eruption.
Dryads, being known for their short shorts and tanktops had a way of making men think with their middle fingers, which upset certain segments of the guild.
None more so than the basket weavers of Dis, who also taught that the pit[url=smurf] fiends of Nessus were transformed into[/url] crotch rot grubs and infested the[url=smurf] attending arch devils, whom then considered that perhaps they were the ones [/url] guilty of everything.
Cops swarmed over the archdevils, demanding answers to the Paris Hilton drama. Donuts were noshed, coffee was splashed and unfiltered cigarettes were passed around to everyone in a uniform, even the Scary German with the funny nose to big for his face and leathery skin.
"Ach du lieber mein sleestack ist a grubber fingered with a crossbow, und ein grosse sheisse, a potato and a whole dutch cheese wheel.
Spilled wine told the next in line that somebody better back the hell up before the intoxicated priest stomped the living daylights out of the kids playing around the altar recklessly," he grumbled.
"But really folks," I wanna dance with my sloth all night long!" The sloth, however, flipped up and smacked the toucan when it laughed [url=smurf] at his funny hairpiece, which closely resembled Papa Smurf's beard. "Two for Tuesday is over," bellowed the bar keep known as Lefty.
Lefty could break open a walnut using only his [/url] ear lobe. Many gremlins were envious of the pintos that would explode in a searing projectiles. Steaming hot boogers shot out of Cinderella's mouth and they landed in the eye of Sir Walter Festus Livingston XXIV.
"Gadzooks!" he cried, "'Tis truly a vile breath weapon young lady." Who the hell said nobles named festus were allowed to speak in my microphone. The chiclets were replaced with cherry vanilla flavored candy coated turds.
"That's really disgusting," said Smurfette, "but please some more."
as she bent over to pick up a piece of rope in the TV repairman's bag of tricks (rust colored). A second later she squealed in delight and squirmed when Papa Smurf gave her a big story of how she could earn extra money. Sure enough, this led to drinking and excessive gambling. Eventually a suger daddy wandered in, asking in such a high-pitched whiney voice, "Can't we all get a long, instead of being a bunch of word mongers bent on wording up like Cameo did until he died a sad and lonely aspiring poet?" Silence fell. The silence landed on the quiet night where an eldritch egg hatched on the hour of the bewitching time.
A tiny draconic werefly was discovered piddling on dandelions and eating pixistix as a spider danced and cavorted spinning and spitting on a neighboring [url=smurf] illegally parked pickup.
"Now, that's a sight for sore beholder eyes," said the flaming green [/url] werefly. He ate the worm residing[url=smurf] from within a cunning device disguising three rather large pseudopods with tiny diamond piercings and tremendous tartar buildup.
"Yummy," he said, "Where's my Certs?!" He held one up to the left nostril of the great Orcus whom had just snorted an infamous amount of goofballs, then he sneezed and a gob of translucent yellow[/url] phlegm came shooting out and hit[url=smurf] Asmodeus in the right eye. Azzy-mo looked at it and picked it for his collection of mucosal samples he was saving for a rainy day to spend snufflin' and blowin' his booger collection then stickin' them in the secert compartment in his battleship the Gorgon. Who would've thought them boogers would sell on eBay for more money than a gold cow that also brought the wrath of Khan in "Fantasy Island: The Next Generation" starring Joe Pesci as Tattoo's illegitimate son "Piercing." Ricardo Montalban drank without care until, exceedingly drunk, began to single handedly seduce every woman over sixty feet tall. He pulled out his massage oils and rubbed his pectorals and said, "get back Yoko, get thee to a church on time."
Modron love, makes the best porn in the city you must see it to believe it; otherwise, you'd never even once rub a pyramid or spank your polyhedron shaped monkey.
Anyway, the worst that can happen is that you start to lose track of time and space. Also, they lose their car keys, but they can hotwire anything with wires so cars are always ready to get stolen. A Norwegian Blue parrot that seemed completely oblivious to its own recent demise, attacked and innocent bystander was slain, fingers nipped off, hair befouled, and to make matters worse, animated as a zombie phone addict, talking while incessantly mumbling "Braiiiiinssssss" into his iPhone.
Apple's plan to improve undead sales introduced the izombie, which not only stumbles and mumbles but also grumbles.
The izombie comes with its own user-friendly brain socket installed and never needs rewinding, although it gets slippery and oozes a smelly substance resembling used personal lubricant if, by mistake, can cause horrible acidic burns; however, the resulting scarring still looked better than the Queen's firmly clenched buttocks while walking down
we need a new update.