The One Sentence Game!!


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There was a break in the thread as Joey ran into the room yelling "Post 1001!"

Scarab Sages

A shadowy black tentacle slithered out of the closet behind Joey, fairly dripping both malice and malevolence.


Joey paused for a second, but failed his Perception check.

Scarab Sages

The tentacled mass reared back and spoke, "gimmie $3:50".

Scarab Sages

Joey's father entered the room, screaming "Don't you go giving that horrid tentacled mass $3.50, it's the Loch Ness Monster!"


"Nah, relax dad, it's cool, he hooked me up with the goods the other day" says I, and hand the tentacle 2.50, "sorry, all i got right now"


"Relax little piggy everything will be OK."


But then, Suspense walked into the room with Death, and All Hell broke loose.


Because Hell, Hell is for children.


A shroud dropped over events surrounding the unfortunate dretch, and the action refocused once more upon the recently viking infested inn, where Erik Mona had been seeking a barmaid and/or the identification of a peculiar artifact, whilst megaromerozoid brawled nearby.

Liberty's Edge

"Ufda," said a drunk viking to a cohort, who promptly brained him with a drinking horn.


The drinking horn, was actually a Summoning Horn, and as it broke, a mighty demon broke through an un-noticed hole somewhere in the thread... there it is! *pointing*


"Hello. It's a trap, people!"


He was right, of course, and during the distraction the dretch ran off to another thread where it wouldn't be hunted with such ferocity.

Scarab Sages

The survivors of the Tavern Tap Tragedy, as it came to be known in later years, fought bravely against the strange squid-demon.

Scarab Sages

The vikings, being a notoriously surly bunch when drunk, drew their weapons and began to hack away in a berserk fury.

Scarab Sages

Unfortunately their beer had been laced with strong anti-psychotics, and their strength soon fled them.


"Hel's teats this fight has got me winded," a Viking cried out.


"This 'ill make ye feel better" the Viking said, passing his friend a small, suspicious bag, full of...

Scarab Sages

Rusty iron rivets cannibalized from the wreck of the Titanic, and for added flavour sprinkled with a heavy dose of almond extract and cyanide!


"That's some hardcore stuff!" said his companion, and tried to eat it, for he had heard of its mystic healing power.

Scarab Sages

Unfortunately, it was capable only of healing the curse of living, and he was sooned relieved of his corporeal being, shuffled off his mortal coil, released from his metaphysical bonds, in short he was deceased, dead, no longer living, the big sleep, kicked the bucket, pining for the fjords...?


"Hmm? That was interesting" Said his friend, throwing the bag over his shoulder and leaving the area before the 5.0 showed up.

Liberty's Edge

"Bookem, Danno!"

Scarab Sages

It was too late, as the coppers had arrived with their paddy wagons and tommy guns spitting hot fire (as opposed to cold fire).


"Oy Vay!" cried out the viking, in fear.

Scarab Sages

"Sa'matta'...'fraid of gettin' yer ticket punched, see?" The stereotypical '20s gangster shouted as he rode an M1A1 tank - modified to fire lightsabers instead of shells - onto the field of battle.


Then, the Outsiders popped up, greased hair and snapping, as they approached the vikings: *snap* *snap* *snap* *snap* *snap* *snap*

Scarab Sages

"Less dancing, more killing!" yelled the angry vikings, whose ritualistic combat had been turned into a song-and-dance routine.


Rune picked up is carving axe and began a new sculpture from the viking ship's high mast.

Scarab Sages

Unfortunately, a bad place to be during a lightning storm, but what do they know from physics?


A star went out... It was fated.

Scarab Sages

Fate, of course, is never something to laugh at.

Scarab Sages

Unless of course you are stark raving mad at the horror rising from the sea.


As my eyes cleared the horror resolved itself -- it was Bo Derek in a white bikini!


She wore a crown of thorns upon her head, and small pinpricks of blood ran down her forehead; clenched in her right hand was the severed head of the Bionic Man.

Liberty's Edge

Life had long left the pits into which his eyes receded...


Bo Derek was muttering to herself as she scuffled along, "... looking at other women three miles away... jumping up into their four story hotel room windows... ha! now who is the winner?"

Liberty's Edge

You lost your head for the last time, Stevie Weavie.

Scarab Sages

It wasn't actually Bo Derek, of course, but the human mind must try to understand all things and this was the image into which the horror had crystallized in the minds of those present.

Liberty's Edge

It was John Derek.

Scarab Sages

But not the John Derek you are thinking of; the other one.

Scarab Sages

You know, the one who showed us that trick with the midget, the Big Mac, and the bottle of vodka.


A muffled sound called out of the mist which was forming beneath the horror.

Scarab Sages

Horror-filled mists are, of course, a staple of many tales of terror.


It sounded kinda like a violin player, and then a band of demons joined in, and is sounded something like this.

Liberty's Edge

It couldn't be known whether the screams of torment were coming from the demons, or were imagined in the minds of the audience.


The composer of this tune was either a mad genius, who genius was madness, or the instruments being played, strung with human guts, were baaad asssss.

Scarab Sages

Mad geniuses are, of course, a staple of the music industry.

Liberty's Edge

Sometimes, they even staple things to their heads.

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