Forum Game: Five

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Re: Forum Game: Five

Postby Master Gunner » 03 Nov 2009, 10:39

currently engaged in huffing a
TheRocket wrote:Apparently the crotch area could not contain the badonkadonk area.
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Re: Forum Game: Five

Postby empath » 03 Nov 2009, 10:43

jerrycan of gas, waiting for
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Re: Forum Game: Five

Postby Niveus Leo » 03 Nov 2009, 11:29

the zombie queen of England
"We the willing, led by the unknowing, are doing the impossible for the ungrateful. We have done so much for so long with so little, that we are now qualified to do anything with nothing." Anonymous
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Re: Forum Game: Five

Postby empath » 03 Nov 2009, 19:18

...to release the hounds. On...
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Re: Forum Game: Five

Postby Machalllewis » 04 Nov 2009, 01:16

this auspicious day things were
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Re: Forum Game: Five

Postby Nomadic » 04 Nov 2009, 06:28

gearing up for nuclear explosions
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Re: Forum Game: Five

Postby Theremin » 04 Nov 2009, 06:40

pasty mushroom clouds, luscious lippy
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Re: Forum Game: Five

Postby Machalllewis » 11 Nov 2009, 04:36

which kinda finished everything off.

So this is the story so far. The whole game looks to be gearing down however so if you wanna read what the hell this all amounted to then here it is.

There was a man who sat on a monkey, which yelled obscure obscenities in a low pitched voice. This noise greatly resembled a dirty old hermit with a turtle shell. When the wench heard this, she actually shit a brick. On receiving this brick, the hermit sounding monkey ate it. Who then pooped a diamond. A local entrepreneur, seeing this, who fought the monkey for an undetermined amount of time, would be to invest capital into what appeared to be an old sock. This caused the other man to start eating on his old set of uterus shaped cutlery. Suddenly, a bear leapt out of a hole in time and proceeded to viciously maul the LARPers dressed as tuna. However this was all a dream.

The dream ended, and a man left the shower to find a bear-shaped silhouette looming over his sister and threatening to bite off her Kit-Kat bar. But the man initiated the age-old dance of akmen-Ra. The bear was confused like the man's patented Babedar, which was currently in a scabbard on his mantelpiece back at home. He looked around for a sharp-witted haberdashery owner named Harold, who was the only one that had the power to cave balls in with a plumbob shaped automatic goldfish dispenser. But unfortunately for the man, the plumbob shaped automatic goldfish dispenser was out of order due to a massive amount of watery sandwich dough inside.

This could only be attributed to only one so vile he was without name, which led to countless jokes at the expense of the dancing ninjas. The only reason for ninja's to dance is the ancient dance celebrating the victory of the victorious victor Viktor.

Meanwhile, in downtown Victoria, BC music pulsates from a karaoke bar so wretched with scum that not even Morgan would screw more than eight of the LG's who infested this screws. Toast was singing a ballad, while a piano softly played a perplexing little tune.

In the back of the bar, Kathleen cowered, due to Morgan helicoptering to anyone who dared to bring up the fact he was currently without any means to bring out his homosexuality. Luckily Paul was nowhere to be seen, except the tattoo of him on Morgan's chest. Which is why Bill stopped hanging out with Morgan, out of fear for his small pet Chihuahua called Yogi, who had a surprisingly loud bark for a gay (as in happy)hound. It flabbergasted the bejeesus out of Graham and Paul who were desperately clawing at the underside of a porcelain demon from Royston Vasey, you'll never leave here with your underbelly intact!

Meanwhile, there are squelching sounds from within the broken old woman while she sat on Graham and Matt's doorstep waiting for the inevitable Nerd Rage explosion and apologetic handout of candy and Transformers figures from the two who lived within.

Far away, fine Cuban cigars were hand-rolled by Optimus as he tousled Matt's newly moussed back hair, sweetly singing the Badger Song to a techno-dance remix of a bone-shattering ball kick initiated by the one who shall rule the world one day! If the prophecy is not stolen by a blind, dumb, foul-smelling French National meandering along the road, shouting for a horse, a horse my kingdom for a horse and Worcester sauce for all and to all a good night.

Lord British chortled foppishly through sixteen bristashes, provided by his boyish manservant Jose, a mighty-mighty man, young and in a completely unsuited type of banana hammock two sizes too big that was consequently held with thick white suspenders. In an uncomfortable silence, which was perpetrated by the arrival of Kathleen, seething with Brooklyn rage fresh from the karaoke bar where, due to an unfortunate helicoptering accident, the fire department were hurriedly perming the Dalmatian and preparing to launch a magnificent, world-class cheese and Asparagus. Unfortunately he got an elephant testicle in his grocery unfortunately now coated in Bolognese sauce and a bizarre mixture of baby oil and dream catchers recovered from an archaeological party in which Lord Hawthorne discovered the ancient ruins of the lost civilzation of LRRtopia, who worshipped a great and mildly overweight statue of Matt.

The night passed quickly as Morgan Freeman soothed the masses by quietly crooning an ancient tune, "In West Philadelphia, born and raised..." But it was not just another Bel Aire theme techno fanboy acid house remix but it was much more than Alan Whicker's P.A. and much less than Jonathan Coulton's. But you never know with those dastardly rabbits, they always attack when your back is being tatooed with the name "Matt", followed by "and Edward" as Matt looked on, wobbling like a Weeble. But he had absolutely no fucking way of telling if it was true or not, however things soon drooped, then grew quickly according to an Aisen-Skorkasy curve from the unpronounceable garsen of Ash-kalor the mostly unpronounceable, lord of the dance.

Meanwhile, Graham phoned Morgan's latest floor-provider pretending Morgan was very drunk and wanted sex- this was very close to the truth, except that Morgan was passed passed out, wedged uncomfortably into the wide, accepting arms of Bertha Olgranovitch, champion weightlifter and the very personal friend of Vladimir Putin, also known as the butcher of Jangles' Bay.

Meanwhile, at nearby Jones Bay, Pete Postlethwaite pulled on his zipper that was stuck in the desk drawer of a rather spiffing little accountant whom no one ever hired for any sort of accounting, but they did hire him to count the number of frogs that fell from the sky when Matt angered the god of random and unexpected weather, who promptly smote Bill with the 'board of education' which was a clever name for a board with a nail borne by the late great Phailman of the Phailocalypse Two.

This great Phailman was best remembered for his insensitive re-enactment of the fourth battle of Honolulu annual pineapple scratching committee versus the Southern Hawaii club for the ritual murder of all smallish animals trained to find small chocolate-like balls in deep grass, at which naughty bits dropped sharply, as they were attuned to chocolate thermometers, a useless purchase, given that chocolate is always exactly fifty degrees Fahrenheit, much like Stephen Fry's genitalia. Speaking of famous British sexual organs, Hugh Laurie, comedic partner of Fry, but not Phillip J. Fry, but obviously the comedian, was drinking antifreeze and butane in an attempt to lower his rakishness levels, to give Johnny Depp a run for his pheromones, which can be bottled , and are sold in many 2nd-world countries as an exceptionally spicy yet healthy additive to most kitchen dog foods, especially when eaten by people.

However, an exotic brand closeted the thread, almost killing it. In that dark time, Arius the mighty Demon of Tears, cried his little blue eyes right out of his head, which was actually kinda gross. Alas, without his eyes he was unable to experience the sheer joy that was the sight of the great red flaming balls of fiery doom as they descended onto the platform that Captain Obvious had great balls of fire, augmented by his great balls of Truth, Justice, and not the Scandinavian way. Damn their evil Scandinavian way of doing things. Scandinavians often find a real big, thick, and juicy helping of lettuce in their giant baby seal meat grilled sandwiches.

The following morning, the two funniest individuals in the entire northern hemisphere were plotting and joining up map locations to find the lost treasure of Atlantis which was surprising because all of the assembled knew that it was futile to search for the lost civilization of Atlantis without the secret of the estranged garden gnomes who were exiled by Yoda.

Not to be outdone, Miss Marvel decided that shit was about to go off. She activated her bathroom facilities, and accessed the file server that conveniently held the decoder ring which contained all knowledge of how to make the best cranberry goulash this side of Michael Moore. This cranberry goulash is delicious and moist, but the cranberry birkenstocks are most often chosen as the nexus of delicious and moist CAKES, which tickle the fancy of the great and ultimately powerless Wizard of Oz.

But hark! I hear the call of the herald angels sing, "Glory to the majesty of Morgan's mighty thrusting powers which don't in any shape or form give him Space Jump.” Elsewhere the sound of bagpipes screech beautiful melodies across the hills people who can't count correctly.

Since Morgan hasn't eaten delicious deep fried hot dogs and the broken dreams of young flight attendants in a very inappropriate way to be the newest members of Miley Cyrus' fan club. Hugs and kisses made of fire. but Morgan , using his incredible thrusting powers, managed to blind the ones who were looking his way saving us all.

Meanwhile, the Death Star's Chief Engineer was currently engaged in huffing a jerrycan of gas, waiting for the zombie queen of England to release the hounds. On this auspicious day things were gearing up for nuclear explosions pasty mushroom clouds, luscious lippy which kinda finished everything off.
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Re: Forum Game: Five

Postby Vash2nddonuts » 11 Nov 2009, 18:49

Mark Hamill had to keep
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Re: Forum Game: Five

Postby Timelady » 12 Nov 2009, 19:29

it in his pants while
AmazingPjotrMan wrote:Bacon is not a chronological entity.
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Re: Forum Game: Five

Postby empath » 15 Nov 2009, 04:33

Ginger Lynn rubbed against him.
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Re: Forum Game: Five

Postby Theremin » 15 Nov 2009, 07:51

But luckily, zombie Lincoln swatted
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Re: Forum Game: Five

Postby nutmegan » 16 Nov 2009, 18:14

Mecca-John Wilkes Booth who
DUDES!
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Re: Forum Game: Five

Postby empath » 17 Nov 2009, 07:15

would otherwise have ruined things
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Re: Forum Game: Five

Postby Kipher » 17 Nov 2009, 19:17

and blasted into a glorious
:) look a smiley face, it makes you want to smile doesn't it?
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Re: Forum Game: Five

Postby Arius » 17 Nov 2009, 20:54

shower of sex, sparks, and
H̼̮̖͓̻ͮ̀ͬ̓e̟̦͉̾̔̀ͣ͆̄ ͚̤̈̉ͦ̎ͭ̚c̰̠͚̜̹ͪ̐̎̃ͅo̗͌͛ͥ͑m̍ͬͥ̚e͍̱̲̤͚̹͔͛s͚̱̤͚̲̭̗̃̎ͭ̚.̘̫̖̮̠͒̔.̝̹̟̳͚̂̆̋͌̐̚.̬͓̰̃̑
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Re: Forum Game: Five

Postby King Kool » 17 Nov 2009, 21:24

intricately designed choclately fudge wafers
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Re: Forum Game: Five

Postby ThrashJazzAssassin » 18 Nov 2009, 06:59

manufactured by twelve simpering - yet
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Re: Forum Game: Five

Postby Theremin » 18 Nov 2009, 10:34

strangely manly lumberjacks, each mincing
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Re: Forum Game: Five

Postby empath » 18 Nov 2009, 15:53

sundry candies in a grinder.
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Re: Forum Game: Five

Postby Arius » 24 Nov 2009, 20:24

"You people scare me." said
H̼̮̖͓̻ͮ̀ͬ̓e̟̦͉̾̔̀ͣ͆̄ ͚̤̈̉ͦ̎ͭ̚c̰̠͚̜̹ͪ̐̎̃ͅo̗͌͛ͥ͑m̍ͬͥ̚e͍̱̲̤͚̹͔͛s͚̱̤͚̲̭̗̃̎ͭ̚.̘̫̖̮̠͒̔.̝̹̟̳͚̂̆̋͌̐̚.̬͓̰̃̑
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Re: Forum Game: Five

Postby Timelady » 25 Nov 2009, 09:32

Arius, a member of the
AmazingPjotrMan wrote:Bacon is not a chronological entity.
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Re: Forum Game: Five

Postby Machalllewis » 25 Nov 2009, 09:34

Klu Klux Klan based in
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Re: Forum Game: Five

Postby Theremin » 25 Nov 2009, 09:46

the dirision division of the
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Re: Forum Game: Five

Postby badgersprite » 25 Nov 2009, 15:04

Society for the Prevention of

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