Good grief, I can't leave you people alone for a minute, can I? MDP, what happened to your arm? Chicken, your feathers are a mess. This is ridiculous.
You have rat-breath, SJ.
I found my other couch. I win!
Good. Now you can set up your office outside of this thread.
And you can be the first patient on it, EDDLAP. ED. That's better.
Matt Damon.
Dude! Lemme see that hand.
Um, go be "sociable" elsewhere...
ED, you're on the couch. It's incredibly rude to ignore your analyst.
*shows SnowJade its stick-replacing-previous-hand*
...Matt Damon.
[*Munches munches munches*]
[*Munches placidly Matt Damon puppet's fallen prosthetic hand*]
[*Goes away troting contentedly*]
Damned deer, they eat everything that isn't nailed down. We may have to find a clever gnome to carve you a new one. C'mon, I have an idea.
"Is the damned bird gone ?" said Quiche Lisp while striding onto the scene with brand new fuschia pants with white lace.
He watched the deer as it drifted away and disapppeared behind a shrub, and then looked at the snow tiger with a critical eye.
"What is it lately with this animals' invasion, anyway ? I'd wager damned environmental hippies are somehow responsible for it."
[murmuring to himself]"Of course the talking breed is the worst..."
Quiche Lisp watched the smoke-vomiting aztecan monster with a furrowed brow, but said (almost) nothing.
"Umpf !"
Quack.
*tappy tappy tap*
"Nooooooo !"
Quiche Lisp grabs his steampunk gun which was lying on the floor, points it at the fowl and presses the trigger. A torrent of smoking tar gushes from it and engulfs the duck.
Quack?
*tappy tappy tap*
Sssmmmpphh.
*licks the tar off the floor*
I win.
Chicken, you can speak the Dragon tongue. I win.
It is about time you checked yourself in. How long have you had these delusions?
What is that I'm seeing before me. A foul deadra. A servent of Hermaeus Mora. Begone and tell your master to grow some legs.
Oh, I win.
Matt Damon!
Well, that's an improvement from last time, but still you didn't have to tell him that the character models in Oblivion look better than he does. Or call him a "sissy pants"...
I'm just glad the words "Matt Damon" doesn't translate into any significant in the Dragon Tongue of Skyrim.
Oh, I win!
Here, put this arrow in your knee...'cause I'm winning now!
*uses force lightning*
*cackles evilly*
No, Hemophiliacs Anonymous is next door.
Back to the couch, ED.
Perhaps you're the one in need of therapy, since your continuing efforts to "get me help" just scream self-denial.
*removes his stick hand and tosses it*
*fastens his glowstick to his stump*
*brandishes the glowstick (which is getting pretty low on juice) toward EDdlAP*
Matt Damon!
...Brains?
...Brains?
*shakes its head*
Matt Damon.
*points*
Not on this boat. Just souls.
*pulls up on motorcycle*
Hey puppet want a ride to the river styx, we can stop at the peach pit on the way for pie
Don't do it. I've heard terrible stories about Luke Perry and the lost puppets who took pie from him.
pfft what does he know, charon doesn't surf man
Ha! I've surfed the River Styx. California ain't nothing. Surf Australia with its sharks and jellyfish, then I'll call you a man.
Paddleboarding ain't surfing man
...and you know, right?
Hey Luke, I'll take ya surfing.
Opens Mouth
Right on, I finally get to jump the shark
*Revs up motorcycle*
Winning