It's late at night, thus I win!
c-c-c-c-combo breaker!
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evah
Still here!
Me too, naughty cat !
Munch... Munch... Munches the win.
You all seem to have inflated egos.
But I can help.
Tell me about your mothers...
NO SOCK POPPETS, I SAY, MORTALINGS !
AND... I WIN, OF COURSE !
I dare you to come hither... (bubbles)... (bubbles)...
If you can't... I (bubbbles) win !
You treading on my turf there, bubble airhead !
And I know where you live, now...
Get my meaning, paesano ?
You've losst it, bubba.
And you've lost too.
Douses Foolproof Jony with a fire extinguisher
I win.
It's nighttime. You can't win until dawn.
[bursts into sun-like orb]
I see some estimeed colleagues here. Greetings, godlings. But don't be fooled : I am the winnar !
*tests to see if Foolproof is waterproof*
NO SOCK POPPETS, I SAY, MORTALINGS !
AND... I WIN, OF COURSE !
Matt Damon.
You tell him.
I win. I post that I win. Because I post that I win, I win. Therefor: I win. This I post.
Q.E.D.
Coal in your sock!
Coal is for the burning of the fuel of your demise in the fires of triumphing that is lifting Fawful high into the sky of having the winning. Fawful will be leaving you in the smoke of so much fury of having the losing. The smoke of your sadness, tasty with the saltiness of your tears.
Coal is for the burning of the fuel of your demise in the fires of triumphing that is lifting Fawful high into the sky of having the winning. Fawful will be leaving you in the smoke of so much fury of having the losing. The smoke of your sadness, tasty with the saltiness of your tears.
:D
Is good, yes? Fawful has the pleasing. And now for the proceeding of the plan I have planned! Midbus! Come! Fawful calls you!
It's Saturday, minutes before I play Skyrim and I win.
Bah, your Skyrim goes down in flames. Kitty wins!
Jimmy Hendrix is probably spinning in his grave, but...
'scuse me, while I Rim the Sky.
*burns off VRMH's beard*
*puts on a flameproof suit*
MATT DAMON!!!
What's a Mat Daemon?
*burninates the unbeliever*
*belches flames onto the Captain's hat, winks and flies away with the win*
Matt Damon!
huzzah!
*flees in terror*
Dragon is having a case of the fleeings. Fawful has many chortles.
*lights Fawful like a candle*
OUCH! It is the overheat again! Fawful has the hotness!
*perches with the win*
Looks at the Dragin with fearlessly...
*turns the amazon princess into a flame atronarch*
Raises her arm and repels the beast's foul breath weapon with large classic Greek shielding.
She yells unsinged, "If that be your answer beast!"
She swings with her enchanted sword named Winterkiss and stabs him right in his big toe.
Yes ! Slaughter each other in the way of non-gnomes !
I shall be the winner !
Isn't life grand especially when you win
Just what I was thinking !
Plus, I'm a gnome. We're genetically endowed.
Don't cry. T'was the will of the Gods !
MATT DAMON!
*looks sternly at the gnome, or, well, its face is directed toward the gnome*
I'm not a halfling ! They're not even proper hobbits !
I'm not a trademark-derivated sub-species !
I'm noooooooooooooot !
[flees in abject terror]
HeHeHeHe!