They said I was mad, creating a fully functional virtual universe to compare reality with skyrim. Mad, they said. Well I'll show them, I'll show them all! It will be my legacy, my gift to the world! MAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

The next poster is trying to help me.

Fueldrop, I know how it is.

It's late (meaning the sun is about to come up: beware the sun !)

You haven't plunged your fangs in a juicy neck - yet.

And you've been stalking various forum threads all night long - banning, trying to win in vain, doing unearthly yo mama digs, and even, on the sly, guiltily writing some haikus (it's all right, man ! We all do haikus from time to time: it's the human cond... I mean the humanoid condition).

Now picture a nice blooming flower, take a deep breath and...

WHAT ? You can't breathe !? Really, that's...

I tried to help you, buddy ! I really tried but you are not helping !

[storms out of the room]

...

[coming from some distance somewhere, from the corridor outside the room]

"I'm done here ! The next poster will clean up this mess !"

I'll let the night guy get it...

The next poster has FuelDrop's sanity hidden in a box, and is cahoots with a few dozen mystical Centaurs that have the keys to Hell, the box FuelDrop's sanity is in, and the keys to my car.

It's not even a very big box, and quite ligth.

The next poster does very weird things with boxes.

OM NOM NOM NOM! Delicious!

The next poster is even crazier than I am.

Hi!

The next poster didn't even know.

He looked perfectly sane to me. Then... He spoke some strange language of holas and espanol... I think he worships the elder ones.

The next poster will ____.

Hide In Your Closet, like I always do, and wait for FuelDrop to come close enough so I can take my Mad-Cap back from him, since he obviously stole it. IT'S MIIIINE!

The next poster is running for public office on a dubious platform.

I plan to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. So help me, by voting early and often.

The next poster has voted 5 times already.

I tried. This url is brought here not for political purposes, but for shenanigans.

The next poster beat the machine.

1, 2, 3... clap your hands, move your feet, lalala, I'm dancing to my beat box machine !

The next poster is looking you squarely in the eye.

As I always do, just before eating them.

The next poster thinks eyes are overrated.

Seeing is believing, but in the field sometimes you need to know what is going on behind closed doors. If you don't have a surveillance team with directional mics and bugging devices a glass to the door and your ear is a good way to make out what is being said.

The next poster wants to be a burned spy too.

Grandmaster Torch is a badass, isn't he?

The next poster knows all about David Petraeus's *other* embarrassing secret....

and if the payoff doesn't show up I will be forced to reveal it to the forums.

The next poster spent the payoff on something frivolous.

more feathers! Someone else's of course. Look at my pretty colorful feathers!

Next poster has a birthday cake and hates it.

Sorry, I thought you said I had a unbirthday rake, and I ate it.
*hurl* darnit.

The next poster wonders how I even ate a rake in the first place.

I knew it had BBQ sauce on it, but a rake?

The next poster puts out random objects out for Marthian to eat.

Rock...
Tree...
Cat...
Horse...
Hooker...
Politician...

The next poster is solar powered.

Behold the power of the Dawnflower!!

The next poster is powered by darkness.

It's free. It's infinite. It lasts forever. So what are you waiting for? Let the Darkness attack YOU!

The next poster is the one true heir to both the Romanov and Qing Dynasty thrones.

It's not something I brag about too often.

The next poster has 2 options:
Wants to complain about the new Flurry of Blows errata, or
wants to make me a sandwitch.

I love the smell of Philly Cheesesteak, what can I say?

The next poster smells burnt fudge.

Yeah, but unlike the burnt brownies, it's not doing much for me.

The next poster has to make another batch of Christmas cookies because they ate the first bach right out of the oven.

And now i'm baking cookies with a severly burned mouth, but it was totally worth it! Lets see if the new ones are done.. *nomnomnom*

Next poster has a different reason he has difficulties speaking.

Chaos does not care about grammar!!

The next poster is seeing things that aren't there...

When you're a captive the first thing they do is try to disorient you, sleep deprivation is the best tactic to keep an agent from being able to separate reality from imagination. For instance Joe over there is missing his shoes, but still wants to play ball.

The next poster wants to build it so they will come.

Interestingly enough, if you build a Recruitment thread on the PbP forums, people start posting in it so they can join in your game. Strange, isn't it? Almost like that's what it's supposed to do...

The next poster is the wo/man who burned Michael Westen.

*Puts down flamethrower and looks around innocently* Who, me? This? Oh, I was just cleaning it.

The next poster wants to know... Why so serious?

Because... well... wanna know how I got these scars?

The next poster is going to pickpocket Bill Gates.

If you with 'pocket' mean 'bank account'...

Next poster has a batcave.

I have a closet, and I once found a dead mouse in it, does that count?

The next poster is the type of person to talk about the triumphs of his character as though he was actually there.

I was. It's called astral projection. What's interesting is how the dice back home don't lie about what's going on in the action on the ground.
1d20 ⇒ 19

The next poster is having trouble projecting beyond the pizza.

I have the power, but... how could anyone project while there is still delicious pizza awaiting consumption. om nom nom nom!

The next poster is a grouchy eccentric bookstore owner.

Rrrrrgh! I am Bernard Black, now if you'll excuse I've got to organize my Isaac Asimov Shelves.

The next poster is my chipper and annoying assistant.

Bernard! Bernard! Bernard!
What?
I'm a prostitute robot from the future!

The next poster is our highly strung neighbor.

*eye twitches* I never should have moved in next to a bookstore. Gah! They steal my underpants! They're gonna kill me in my sleep! Argh!

The next poster is the constable who needs to deal with all this.

Because I own the bookstore, I steal your undeprants.

The next poster discovers how to cure cancer.

I have discovered how to cure cancer, but have withheld the information because of my incredible evilness and general D-baggery.

The next poster is the true lord of the dance.

I AM. No matter what hobbs or anyone else says!

The next poster will come back from his next adventure of the opposite gender.

All shall weep and despair! For I am lord of the dance! Thou shalt do the Duck dance or fall to my almighty duckness! Swiftly now! I can hear the sounds of your womens lamenting!

The next poster is one of my many gullible followers!

Only one of you can be the lord of the dance. Fight to the death for my amusement. And, err, also to be lord of the dance, I guess.

As for you, Duck, how come I haven't gotten paid yet? I cleared out that dungeon like you asked, and lost my soul to that lich. I'm beginning to not trust you.

The next poster is the one who really broke up the Beatles.

Yes... It's all part of my evil scheme for world domination.
step #773 of #86908 I believe.

The next poster has a more practical plan to take over the world.

Now my plan can be revealed. Step one involves violence. Step two is more violence.

The next poster has been arrested for public indecency. Twelve times.

It's my gift to the world!

The next poster feels like jumping up an down. 1,000,000 times.

While doing it I will also count each one aloud, then post it on youtube and kill the count to 1,000,000 thread.

The next poster has already tried that stunt with whiskey shots and forgot where they were for the 30th time.

I...Ima..Isgonna.. Not quilting yet. Wait. DidIjussay quilt? [giggle snort]

Da nexsht poster will suck seed, where I fail. ded.

I suck tomato seeds in the location you tried to jump up and down while drunk.

The next poster can speak every language known to man, but can't understand what he means.

Da! Hodge vodge, sum Telefonummer shibboleth Xiao Meow atypus-play floccinaucinihilifilipication marquis ankh budgerigar hippi biblioteca abdul dalek draiocht miquizpatli vader cop-opper Trollmann mahoutsuki nat squash aloha!

The next poster didn't want to hurt them...ith only wanted to kill them. The dog ordered ith to do it.

'ith': one of several candidates for the unisex pronoun the English language so sorely needs

Stupid Fort save vs poison.

The next poster once ate a bug (and not the kind that comes in icky licks or covered in chocolate).