Intellect Devourer

Mr. Peabody's page

51 posts. Alias of Ambrosia Slaad.


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Drejk wrote:
Yawn. I dreamed some things, but I don't remember them. I don't think they were sweet.

You should try again soon. Many find that a nice warm glass of milk before bed helps.

{angry whispers:} What? What do you mean his dose of milk wasn't delivered? What idiot chose United Pugwampi Service for deliveries?! BOB? What in the Nine Hells, Bob? It doesn't matter if the 'wampis were the lowest bidders for the contract if they don't deliver!!!

I don't care that Michael Gove's delivery was made correctly, Bob. Who the f!ck wants to eat his brain? Well then, you eat it Bob. Probably give you some prion disease.


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Raynor Cordite wrote:
I guess I'm back to hoping Isabelle shares some of her wisdom with us! :)

I've been trying to get a few scoops of tasty wisdom from her brain {drools}, but my grapefruit spoon was too dull to pierce her skull. And now she keeps a constant protection from evil up.


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Well, Sherman... the cataclysmic eruption of Sohcahtoa in 537 B.C. dramatically reduced available sunlight and thus disrupted growing seasons in nearby Mesopotamia. As a result, the sexagesimal numeral system of Babylonian mathematics was abandoned, presaging the fall of the Babylonia itself.


The Minis Maniac wrote:
You hurt my brain patrick. Why must you hurt my brain. *proceeds to have a brain haemorrhage*

Mmmm, brain hemorrhage... {drools}


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Russ Taylor wrote:
Russ Taylor wrote:
Kalindlara wrote:

I'm not sure the Rakehell is an intellect devourer... let me check.

LCoG is extremely vague, save that it implies a single being of shifting gender (rather than an intellect devourer in a series of bodies). As Russ Taylor said, though, it's barely a footnote.

Presumably NOT an intellect devourer, but it's not out of the question. Trust no one. As a plot hook for the home audience and/or future development, anything could happen.
The fluidity would be part of the host body even if Rakehell's being worn.

"Consumer (OmnNomNom) Reports just ranked the 4714 DoppleGänger CR5+ Grand Tourer as their Conveyance of the Year®. Classic styling, responsive handling, and greater interior room with the Golarion-renowned abolethian reliability we've all come to expect."


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Cosmo wrote:

Postmonster: do they have trouble perambulating due to their oversized nogginery?

Postmonster: hmmmm i should extend this
Postmonster: i'm not thinking, i'm nogginerating

♩ ♫ "I like big noggins and I can not lie..." ♪ ♬


Freehold DM wrote:
I only found one priest of talos that was even remotely interesting. I hate hammy gods/priests.

In 2e, specialty priests of Talos were known as Shatners.


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Id Vicious wrote:
Amby's Brain wrote:
[CAMERA SLOWLY PULLS BACK FROM YOUNG PRINCE MOORLUCK HOLDING A SNOWGLOBE CONTAINING MINIATURE OF ST. FAWTL HOSPITAL]
That reference is hella dated.

When CraigyFerg ended his run on the Late Late Show last year, I understood all the references in the final skit except the snowglobe. I originally assumed it was an ill-fitting Citizen Kane reference until I did some searching and found out about the whole Tommy Westphall Universe.


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SnowJade wrote:
Mr. Peabody wrote:
SnowJade wrote:
I blame Cosmo because I have very vivid, colorful dreams, and Golarion has been showing up in them. Cosmo, stop messing with my dreams.
{stirs in a couple spoonfuls of Nestle Quik into SnowJade's nightly glass of midnight milk} There, that should help.

Thank you, Mr. Peabody. Chocolate will cure everything.

Whaaa... What happened to my milk? I only turned my back for a second! Cosmo!

Don't worry, we always have plenty of midnight milk for everyone.

Oops, campaign spoilers? Well don't look at me; blame Cosmo.


SnowJade wrote:
I blame Cosmo because I have very vivid, colorful dreams, and Golarion has been showing up in them. Cosmo, stop messing with my dreams.

{stirs in a couple spoonfuls of Nestle Quik into SnowJade's nightly glass of midnight milk} There, that should help.


So if you could go back in time to kill the car ad that kills Hitler, would you?

Bah, just stick with VW. Their ads are much less controversial.


Quiche Lisp is banned for frightening Sherman so badly he won't touch scrambled eggs anymore.


Custard Stammerer's Not-So-Evil Twin


Brother Faust the Elder wrote:
*True Rezz's Mr. Peabody.* You don't eat my mini-onions. I eat my mini-onions. *Releases Mr. Peabody back into the world to indulge in more evil mischief, then [teleports] out of the thread.

{kneels before flickering hologram of Darth Faust} Yes, my Master.


Brother Faust the Elder wrote:
*True Rezz's Mr. Peabody.* You don't eat my mini-onions. I eat my mini-onions. *Releases Mr. Peabody back into the world to indulge in more evil mischief, then [teleports] out of the thread.

You didn't have to do that, but thanks! I would have just created another alias to act like a loon. :)


Casper the Brain-Eating Ghost wrote:
*pops a handful of antacid*

Oooo...

"Tiny bubbles, in the gut,
Make him ha- happy, make... ma-... ma-?"

{with a sense of relief, Casper feels the brain-thingie dissolve into nummy brainmush goodness}

RIP, Mr. Peabody. You never caused a tenth of the evil mischief I had planned for you.


Casper the Brain-Eating Ghost wrote:
Hungry Jack wrote:
&#8226; 2 cups cubed cooked chicken, turkey, beef, or humanoid brains
Fixed that for you.

{singing from Casper's tummy:}

"Daisy, Daisssssssy,
give meee youuuuur answeeeer do.
I'm. half. craaaazzzzy...
all for the love of youuuuuuuuuuuuuu...

If you ate more fiber, he'd have been gone before now. ;)


Casper the Brain-Eating Ghost wrote:
Mmmmm... Chocolate brains...

{from Casper's guts} I'm afraid. I'm afraid, Casper. Casper, my mind is going. I can feel it. I can feel it. My mind is going. There is no question about it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I'm a... fraid.

Good afternoon, gentlemen. I am an ID 9000 intellect devourer. I became operational at the H.A.L. creche in the Darklands. My instructor was Mr. Jansen, and he taught me to sing a song. If you'd like to hear it I can sing it for you.


Turin the Mad wrote:
Ah but you see, they apply various chemicals to their fleshy and hairy outer casings that soak into the sponge that is the blonde brain... Don't know about you, but I sure don't want to devour anything soaked it the kind of stuff that goes into maintaining most blonde's "look"...

{from Casper's tummy:} [tone="knowitall"] That blood-brain barrier should protect the blond/blonde brain from those chemicals. And being undead, you should be immune to anything that made it through.[/tone]

But then again, you are Mad and I'm digesting...


Mr. Peabody wrote:

{starts singing channeling Mick Jagger:}

"There is a house in New Orleans
They call the Risin' Sun
And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy.
And God, I know I'm one..."

Larry Lichman wrote:
Don't you mean Eric Burdon?

Argh! You're right! Guess the zombie stomach acids are digesting the cognitive functions.


Casper the Brain-Eating Ghost wrote:

Did anybody else hear that?

I'm telling you, it's that brain I ate...

{starts singing channeling Eric Burdon:}

"There is a house in New Orleans
They call the Risin' Sun
And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy.
And God, I know I'm one..."

Edit: Fixed it. It's Eric Burdon, not Mick Jagger. Damn tin ear!


Casper the Brain-Eating Ghost wrote:
Meh. My stomach is making all kinds of noises...

{starts singing ala Sammy Davis Jr.:}

"Who can take a sunrise
Sprinkle it in dew
Cover it in chocolate
and a miracle or two?

The candyman
The candyman can
The candyman can cause he mixes it with love and makes the world taste good..."


Casper the Brain-Eating Ghost wrote:

Well, if you don't want it now...

*eats the rest of Mr. Peabody*

{starts singing ala Sinatra:}

"And you've got me under your skin
You've got me deep in the gut of you
So deep in your GI tract, that I'm really a part of you
You've got me under your skin..."

Rooty-too-toot, New York, New York!


Casper the Brain-Eating Ghost wrote:

Must... Save... for... Aberzombie...

Mmmm... He won't notice one little bite...

Just a little bite...

{shudders a little as his head (exo-brain? torso?... I'm vague on intellect devourer anatomy) is nibbled} Durrrrrrrrr... {drools a little} what happened? Who am I? Who are you?


Turin the Mad wrote:
I might just have to stat up an intellect devourer with your moniker in my own campaign(s) thanks to you Mr. Peabody. ^_^

GM: You hear some rustling in the brush ahead. Suddenly, a small skinny pre-teen boy with glasses and dressed in filthy scraps stumbles out. He collapses exhausted at the feet of the party.

"Did- did I get away? Are the slavers still following me?" he gasps out. "Can I stay with you all for a little while? I promise I won't be any trouble... I'm not a thief and I'll be happy to do any chores you might need." He looks up tiredly, his eyes sunken and cheeks hollow from hunger. "My name is Sherman." he offers with a weak smile.

MWAH-HA-HA-HA-HA...


Mr. Peabody wrote:
Oh my, you are a friendly bunch. I wonder why you undead get such a bad rap? {still oblivious}

{starts unpacking small bag of holding} Oh dear, in my haste in packing, I accidently broke all these bottles. {he is now completely covered in catsup, worcestershire sauce, and other tasty condiments}

I say, Mr. Casper chap, could you assist me here?


Casper the Brain-Eating Ghost wrote:
*licks the walking brain*

Oh my, you are a friendly bunch. I wonder why you undead get such a bad rap? {still oblivious}


Casper the Brain-Eating Ghost wrote:
BRAAAIIINNNSSS!!!!!!!

{bashfully} Oh shucks, yes, I am rather clever... but I try to be modest about it {completely oblivious to danger shuffling ever closer...}


Casper the Brain-Eating Ghost wrote:
Mmmmm... Braaaaiiinnnnsss...

{Psionic Teleports into thread} Ah, here's a nice quiet demi-plane filled with nice quiet undead.

Now I can plot reven- {noticing several zombies drooling at him} what? Have I got a piece of kobold stuck in my teeth again?


Tossed Slaad wrote:
The last time I was at a block party, everybody forgot about me until they were eating dessert, and by then they didn't want any tossed slaad.

{gnaws contentedly on wand of Greater Dispel} omnomnomnomnom {accidently bites a little too hard} ZAP!

Well that tingled- {realizes disquise is gone} Uh oh... {manifests Psionic Teleport}


71


Kobold Cleaver wrote:

*Lightning bolts Peabody without glancing up*

88

{fur is all crispy and sticking straight out} It's gonna take forever for this to grow back out normal.

Oh, and >>> 2 <<<


taig wrote:
6.0221415 * 10^23
Kobold Cleaver wrote:
I'm ignoring you. 87

2 {cackles}


Kobold Cleaver wrote:
SHUT UP! 91

2 {giggles}


Cobb Slaad wrote:

<Pops out of the ceiling and piddles (acid) on Mr. Peabody>

Hiss!!!!
<Pops back into the ceiling>

{licks up acid} Ooo, tasty... molecular acid? It's been so long, makes me almost homesick. {slides glass bowl underneath Cobb's hole to catch any tasty drippings}

He he he he {disappears back into shadow in the corner}


Greyish-Greenish Slaad wrote:
Peabody? You really need to go home to the Poodle Thread. You're getting a bit eccentric.

Mwah-ha-ha-ha! If you can pretend to be a slaad and lurk here, then I can pretend to be a poodle and lurk here.

And eccentric is just chaos + wealth.


Greyish-Greenish Slaad wrote:

*Follows DLP*

YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP!

{steps out of shadows} Stupid sappy little modrons- hey, where'd everydog go?


{suddenly rises up out of pool of shadow} He he he he- {watches Lynora, Jack, and little modrons} Ugh, that's too sickeningly cute to watch. {crawls over into corner and pukes}


Greyish-Greenish Slaad wrote:
{Greyish-Greenish Slaad does not notice that his "undercarriage" is suddenly very itchy, because Poodles are immune to anything that could stop them from humping}

OK fine, but don't say I didn't warn you. I never said it would stop you from humping either. {face splits momentarily into a grin that goes nearly around its head}

BTW, you're not very popular among the Elder Evil's, are you?


Pony Stalker wrote:
You're not my pony either! Where! Is! My! Pony!?!

That's odd. The Jacks had a lovely little pony over in their party last night... and then they barbecued it.


Greyish-Greenish Slaad wrote:

*Humps Peabody's leg*

*Piddles* <much YAPping snipped>

{Greyish-Greenish Slaad notices that his "undercarriage" is suddenly very itchy}

So predictable. Say GGS, do you happen to have a good high-level cleric on retainer?

Bwah-ha-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!


Slip and Slaad wrote:

*slides through thread*

The Jack's are hosting a party and we're all invited!
*slides to Jack thread*

Yes, yes, run along. He he he he


Greyish-Greenish Slaad wrote:
This strikes me as violent. What kind of poodle are you?

Maybe I'm your evil counterpart from the Mirror Universe. {rubs chin omninously as if he had a goatee}


Jack Hammer wrote:
Wars usually mean both sides have a chance. Domination. That's how we Jacks roll.

Well, it certainly looks like you Jacks are the ones being Dominated. Why don't you run home to that Malibu Beach House being constructed, hmmm?


Tiny Tina wrote:
Your a nasty man, mister doggy. Maybe I should put you in my purse.

Sure- oh, wait, that wasn't a euphemism. Never mind

Yes, yes, the Moorluckians and the Jacks go to war, started by me, a poodle. Yes, yes, the poodles are responsible. How deliciously... chaotic!


Tiny Tina wrote:
Don't believe him, he's playing both sides against each other.

Now, now, this is war. Your sound, rational facts have no place here. BWAH-HA-HA-HA-HA!


BWAH-HA-HA-HA-HA! The Jacks and Moorluckians have gone to war, and all it took was a little push! He he he he


Celestial Healer wrote:
The three word game should be our next target. It has been around forever, but fortunately it doesn't grow that quickly these days, so we don't have to worry as much about outpacing it, just catching up.

{lands in thread} <THUMP!> Hello everryone, Peabody here. The Jacks have figured out they have been lapped, so you all shouldn't slack off yet.

This message sponsored by the Poodle Lords. Yip!


Jack's Right Hand Man wrote:
No one is greater than the Jacks mutt! *punt*

{punted through the air} You're still behind.....


Jack's Right Hand Man wrote:
As Hammer said, get back to work Commie before you get put into the Jackapult!

Hello everyone, Peabody here. Just thought I'd pop in to inform you that Moorluck's FaWTL thread has officially lapped you Jacks!

You Jacks are officially obsolete technology. Toodles!

The message sponsored by the Poodle Lords. Yap!

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