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ethereal_fauna
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 Posted: Thu Oct 27, 2005 2:37 am Post subject: |
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I went with the 'killed, maimed or eaten' question, simply because I can actually see him asking that next.
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| Posted: Fri Oct 28, 2005 10:29 pm Post subject: |
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VOTE REMINDER!
The poll is only up for 1 more day, and I'm in the bizarre position of having had 6 different people offer suggestions, and only 2 of them voting. 
And they've both voted for different things.... 
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| Posted: Fri Oct 28, 2005 10:49 pm Post subject: Stupid! |
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I voted, and then i realised I didn't even vote for my suggestion! Duh! 
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| Posted: Sat Oct 29, 2005 12:34 am Post subject: |
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I hadn't missed a poll for once, and got in there early. 
I went for the idea I suggested - 'how would you woo me on a date'.
Happy Writing. 
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| Posted: Sat Oct 29, 2005 10:40 pm Post subject: |
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It's a tie. I guess I'd better break this one, as Larry can't ask both questions.
"How will you woo me?" is the more informative (and easier to write) question...
...but I can't help but think that Larry will be spineless and distracted again. So we're going with "Have you ever eaten a mate?"
I'll get writing...
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| Posted: Sun Oct 30, 2005 2:48 am Post subject: |
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CHAPTER FOUR:
Brilla beamed madly at Larry. He attempted to shy away, but those damn manacles were still holding him down.
It was no good! The host of the show looked like Brilla, but Larry would never be able to forget that bristle-brush moustache, that shorter-than-short crewcut or those…
He shuddered and almost missed what she said. Blinking to catch up, he caught the end of the sentence.
“…third question to our ladies, my gorgeous?”
Larry racked his brain, trying to come up with a question that would help him get away from here. All thoughts of escape were driven away and replaced with terror when he noticed that one member of the studio audience looked just like a giant Black Widow spider. Escape was immediately replaced by self-preservation as the foremost thought in his mind. He blurted out the third question.
“Have you ever killed, maimed or perhaps, um, *gulp* eaten one of your mates?”
“Good question,” said Brilla, with just a touch of admiration in her voice. She patted him on the shoulder (and his flesh consequently tried to crawl away from her touch). “That goes to our contestant number three.”
“Eaten my mates?”
The featureless voice still sounded a little upset that she hadn’t been able to bar contestant two from the competition last round. She quickly rallied, however.
“Is this something you think about often, Mr. Cludge? Such notions are often the result of childhood trauma. Did somebody try to eat you when you were young?”
“Er…. Err…” stammered Larry.
Brilla snapped, “Contestant 3! No asking questions of Mr. Cludge. He’s the one who gets to ask – you’re the one who gets to answer.” She paused for a moment, straightened the ugly glare-lines from her face, and tottered right back into cheery-presenter mode. “My luv.”
“Oh alright,” huffed the third voice. “In that case, my answer, Mr. Cludge, is no. I have never killed, eaten or maimed anyone – although in the case of the other two contestants, I have met my most severe temptation to date.”
There was some ugly muttering from behind the partition, but the weapon-of-mass-revulsion still seemed to be keeping everyone on their best behaviour. No fighting erupted.
Larry felt his heart begin to ease its frantic beating – a little. At least one of them wasn’t a psycho freak from hell. Then an unpleasant thought occurred. If she wasn’t a dropout, a sadist or a resident of the intergalactic funny-farm… then what was she doing participating in a show like this?!
“Contestant number two,” sang Brilla, cheerfully. “Give us yer answer please.”
“Well,” blustered number two, her rich voice pitched a little higher than usual. “That is a very odd question, I must say. A lady doesn’t like to be asked those sort of…”
“What happened?” purred contestant one. “Did you land on them?”
The audience cheered and stamped their feet (or various vaguely similar appendages, as appropriate). There was the scrape of a chair being pushed backwards suddenly, as if somebody had flown to their feet.
“I didn’t… nobody ever proved… it was an accident… how did you know?” shrieked contestant two.
Number one laughed, a throaty and spiteful sound. It was apparently the last straw. Again the partitioned wall quivered as something heavy and body-sized smacked into it. Sounds of pain and anguish and triumph roared through the air, melding with the audience shrieks of approval.
Larry flinched, leaning away from the thuds and moans. Brilla looked stern and nodded to the stage crew.
A moment later, gears began to grind from the other side of the stage. There was a clank-clank-glug and suddenly the screaming turned less primal and more… well… more soggy.
It only took a second or two to see why. Water began to jet, in awesome quantities, under, over and around the sides of the partition. The front rows of the audience were soaked in seconds and it appeared that they weren’t even getting the main thrust of the jet.
Larry sat. He watched the water run in small rivers between the gap in the partition and the stage floor. He felt a light spray of it in his hair, running icily down the back of his neck. He heard the spluttering entreaties of the contestants adjacent to him, and the whooping of the audience.
They had a water-cannon. They were prepared to use it. They were insane!
Maybe Brilla really was his only option – no matter how vomit-inducing he found the idea. He turned to her… and gave up on that notion immediately. Brilla had a look of intense satisfaction on her face, and appeared to be muttering to herself about the ratings.
Damnit! He was here to stay!
The stage was a mini-river by the time they turned off the hose. It took almost ten minutes to dry things out and get the now-subdued contestants a fresh makeover. Larry slumped in his chair the whole time, defeated. He’d come this far – how bad could the actual date be?
A small tic began to play just beneath his left eye.
Brilla assumed her cosiest voice again. “Contestant number one. Your turn. Have you ever killed, maimed or eaten one of your mates?”
Contestant one replied, her voice like barbed silk. “Rrreally darrrling, you say it like it’s such a terrrrrible thing. Still, if it makes you feel betterrr, I will say this. I would only everrr kill, maim or eat a loverrr if they rrreally begged, my sweet toy. Only if they rrreally implorrred!”
The contestant heard Larry’s gulp this time. The audience heard it. People on planets less than three light-years distant heard it! His libido wasn’t listening too well, however. Once again, he had cause to wish his hands were free.
“Well, my luv,” said Brilla, cheerfully. “You’ve heard the complete set now. In a minute, we’ll be getting your answer… but first…”
There was an expectant pause. The audience was silent – pretty much a unique event.
“I’ll bet you’re all wondering what happened to yesterday’s happy couple?” asked Brilla, twinkling cheekily at the auditorium. A roar of approval seemed to substantiate her presumption.
“Well, they’re right here, only a satellite screen away, ready to tell us. Are you ready?”
Squawks, honks and hoots filled the room as the audience showed their enthusiasm in a variety of alien ways.
“Okay, then. Timdra and Pyros, are you there?”
A huge TV screen descended from the rafters, spanning the entire half of the stage directly behind where Larry sat. By craning his neck around, he could just about see.
A beautiful silver-skinned young woman was sitting comfortably on a chaise longue. Next to her, curled around the seat and intertwined with her legs, sat a flame-red dragon. It was at least twenty feet long and its wings were furled snugly into its sides. It lay, apparently quite content, with its head in the silver girl’s lap. She stroked it happily.
“It looks like you two chums really got on,” enthused Brilla with just the hint of a leer.
“Brilla,” rumbled the dragon. “I really want to thank you. Timdra’s wonderful. I’ve never met anyone like her. She’s so soft… so delicate… and the date was a dream!”
“Let’s see some pictures, chuck.”
The screen began to show little set-up shots of a beautiful shoreline. Three suns shone down on a lilac beach, with purple waves crashing against the sands. A little further out, you could see a silver-skinned Timdra, attempting to crest the surf with a dragon-shaped surfboard. They seemed genuinely to be having a good time.
Larry stared, his neck beginning to crick uncomfortably. Perhaps there was hope after all! He watched as other beach-shots passed by, each one more beautiful, more intimate than the last. He even ‘Aaah-ed’ unconsciously along with the audience when the cameras showed a chaste little kiss, planted by Timdra onto Pyros’ muzzle.
“So… Timdra… did you have as much fun as you appeared to, my darling?” asked Brilla with a sly smile.
“Oh, I’ll never never ever regret choosing Pyros,” proclaimed Timdra in a sweet, childlike voice. “You’ve made me the happiest girl in the whole wide galaxy, Ms. Padd. I’d completely given up on finding a decent guy. He’s sweet and caring and he doesn’t treat me like a piece of property. All my life I’ve been saving myself for someone exactly like dear, sweet Pyros!”
Brilla tilted her head and gave a predatory smile. “You mean you’ve never…?”
The dragon’s eyes, which had been lazily closed, suddenly blinked open.
Timdra smiled sweetly. “I’ve been waiting for the right…” she ran a light caress across the dragon’s ear. It quivered, alertly. “…for the right dragon. I can see that now.”
She continued, oblivious to the fact that Pyros was running a long tongue across his teeth.
“The others were just dalliances. Just boys. But Pyros – he’s magnificent. So regal. So protective. I really think I could…”
She trailed off, realising that Pyros had lifted his head from her lap. The audience gasped as they saw the puddle of saliva that had pooled in the silver girl’s skirt.
“A virgin,” breathed Pyros. “I thought they were extinct.”
Timdra backed away from the drooling dragon. “But… but darling… we had such a good time. Don’t you want me any more?”
“Want you?” Pyros advanced on her, an avid gleam in his eyes. “Of course I want you. I’m ravenous!”
Timdra let out a little-girl scream, which was cut off abruptly as the screen went blank.
“Ah, well,” Brilla prattled gaily. “It seems like our two lovebirds want a bit of time to… ah… get better acquainted.”
Larry fainted. At least, he presumed afterwards that he must have. There could be no other possible reason for him waking up to a four-armed ghoul pouring a bucket of water over him. He celebrated his return to consciousness by screaming hysterically and rocking back and forth on the chair.
Then somebody jabbed a needle into his neck. Everything suddenly started to look pink and rosy and comfortable. All three Brillas swayed gently back and forth in front of him. Such a nice woman – all three of her. She was saying something. The sound came as if from a great distance, but he understood her perfectly.
“Now, Loverboy. Which contestant do you want to go on your very own perfect date with? Here’s a reminder, just for you, chuck.”
The voice-over started up again.
“Will you pick contestant number one, who can do things with her tongue that will make you beg to be eaten! Or will it be contestant number two, who has a wonderful personality and is a real heavyweight in the love department. Or will you pick number three? She wouldn’t harm a fly – but you should see the state of her trousers! It’s up to you, Larry Cludge!”
Larry smiled through his haze of thick, pink fog. The audience were shouting numbers at him. One. Two. Three. Two. Three. One. Small scuffles were developing, where neighbouring members of the audience disagreed.
He knew the time had come. All he had to do was pick a number and he would be let out of the shackles. But which one?
Last edited by Shady Stoat on Sat Feb 11, 2006 8:07 am; edited 1 time in total
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Chinaren
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ethereal_fauna
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| Posted: Sun Oct 30, 2005 9:03 am Post subject: |
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Go for number 2. She doesn't sound like she could run very fast if you need to get away.
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| Posted: Sun Oct 30, 2005 10:12 am Post subject: |
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ROFL - the 'recap' is very good - exactly right.
"Choose a number, ooh numbers...which shall I choose. " Larry is babbling until suddenly a vision appears out of the audience. Long blonde hair and succulent skin it is by far the most attractive alien he's seen yet. A long, slender finger is held high to the sky as soft lips whisper "NUMBER ONE" so casually. Lost in the haze Larry starts mouthing the words with her.
"What's that Chuck - you choose number 1. We have a winner..."
Happy Writing.
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| Posted: Sun Oct 30, 2005 11:23 am Post subject: |
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That was good, I liked the draogn thing. I pick number 1. Although she sounds like a were-wolf, its better than a brain and rolls of fat.
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Mon Oct 31, 2005 11:00 pm Post subject: |
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Okay, since every available option (beyond the completely bizarre) has been picked, I think it's time to put up the poll on this one.
Vote well... for Larry's sake! 
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D-Lotus
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| Posted: Wed Nov 02, 2005 8:11 pm Post subject: |
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Go number 1!
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The Powers That Be
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| Posted: Wed Nov 02, 2005 9:52 pm Post subject: |
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Wonderful. This is truly a difficult choice. Ok, there, I voted.
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| Posted: Wed Nov 02, 2005 10:36 pm Post subject: |
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Yeah - number 1 is winning.
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Hyperion
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| Posted: Wed Nov 02, 2005 11:07 pm Post subject: |
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| Let's see... Contestant three appears to be intelligent and half-avian... contestant two is an extremely large, fat immersed brain... and contestant one is covered in fur but is apparently irresistable.
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| Posted: Thu Nov 03, 2005 7:21 pm Post subject: |
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I bet all the guys voted for number 1
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The Powers That Be
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| Posted: Thu Nov 03, 2005 7:37 pm Post subject: |
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| D-Lotus wrote: | | I bet all the guys voted for number 1 |
When you assume, you make an...oh, wait. Never mind.
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| Posted: Thu Nov 03, 2005 7:52 pm Post subject: |
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This calls for a thread in the Market place...."Who bets (and how much) all the guys voted on 1?"
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| Posted: Thu Nov 03, 2005 10:22 pm Post subject: |
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| I'll bet one thousand fables that they didn't.
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| Posted: Thu Nov 03, 2005 11:12 pm Post subject: |
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Congratulations! We have a winner!
Contestant number one, step forward please...
*starts writing*
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| Posted: Thu Nov 03, 2005 11:22 pm Post subject: |
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I'm not sure if New Storygames completing the 5 chapters and finishing qualify for the archives and the fable reward.
But I think in this case it should definately happen.
Ooh you'll be so RICH
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| Posted: Thu Nov 03, 2005 11:24 pm Post subject: |
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Whaddya mean!!??
They've got to go on the date yet!!! I reckon about nine chapters in all
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| Posted: Fri Nov 04, 2005 2:21 am Post subject: |
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Excellent.
I was just preparing myself for the worst.
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| Posted: Fri Nov 04, 2005 5:41 pm Post subject: |
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Looking foward to the next chaper 
This story is extreamly funny
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| Posted: Fri Nov 04, 2005 9:31 pm Post subject: |
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I think they actually go to the archives, but not to the hall of fame. Strange Green is in the archives, even though it never even finished.
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| Posted: Sat Nov 05, 2005 2:42 am Post subject: |
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You picked contestant number one. Deary deary me...
CHAPTER FIVE:
Larry giggled and mumbled to himself.
“Numbers… numbersnumbersnumbers... rhymes with… weyyyll, nothing really… nothing… that’s a number, thazza number ‘ndeed-i-o…”
He babbled on, incoherently.
“I think you gave him too high a dose!” Brilla snarled at the stage-hand from the corner of her mouth. Larry watched her, amazed that she could synchronize all three pairs of lips so perfectly.
“My luv, you need to choose a contestant. One, two or three. Say one, two or three!”
“One, two or three,” Larry repeated, smiling a mad smile. “I said it. Didn’I jus’ say it?”
A moment later, another icy cold bucket of water landed in his face. It failed to clear the candy floss in his mind, but something resembling clarity peeped through the mist.
“Oh. Right.” His head weaved in little circles as he tried to consider the problem.
“Which shall I choose?” He stared out at the scuffling crowd until his unfocused gaze centred on… her!
A vision of loveliness was standing at the back of the arena. Long blonde hair, succulent skin, a beautiful pair of… knees. He had never seen anything so ravishing in his life! She was human. Beautifully, wonderfully, gorgeously human. A long, slender finger was held high to the sky. Her soft lips framed the words, “NUMBER ONE”, time and time again.
Lost in his drug-induced haze Larry started to mouth the words with her.
“What's that Chuck? You choose Number One? We have a winner…”
The screech-yowl-blart! theme music began to play again. It completely failed to drown out the sound of the three contestants. One was protesting, one was hurling insults and the third was screaming like a banshee whose toe had just been trodden on. It was an excited sort of screaming, though.
Larry smiled dopily. Someone was happy. That was nice.
Brilla was all smiles now.
“Well, Larry Cludge. It’s time for you to meet the two that you let go. Come out, Contestant Number… Two!”
Larry barely noticed the shackles unhooking themselves from his wrists. He did, however, notice that the bar-stool rose suddenly, kicking him upright. Just as he staggered past the point of vertical, Ms. Padd caught him with an arm around the shoulders. He stood there, swaying happily in a chorus line of Brilla, Brilla, Brilla and him.
Then contestant two walked around the partition.
She filled Larry’s vision. Triple Brilla was one thing… but this?!
A short woman stood before him. She was barely five feet tall and she was almost as wide. Two brown plaits were braided on either side of her rotund face. Her cheeks were rosy, her lips pursed up in disapproval. There was a suggestion of muscle beneath the flab, like a female version of a sumo wrestler. Flesh bulged around her clothing, which could best be described as…
Valkyrie?? Viking?? Some unutterable hybrid of the two?
She wore a winged metal helmet with gold trim. It had been rammed, slightly askew, atop her head. Obviously replaced in a hurry after one of the inter-contestant skirmishes. A rigid leather halter held her modesty intact (barely), with two cones that could have doubled as wigams. She framed her massive hips with a tassled contraption of leather, buckles and chains. It fitted somewhere between the category of lingerie and chastity belt. By no stretch of the imagination could it be described as modest – even with the thigh length suede boots that rose implausibly high on the legs. Add to this a royal blue fur-lined cloak, and a belt and scabbard (the sword was mysteriously missing, most likely due to one of the more intelligent stage-hands), and you had the complete picture. Whether you liked it or not.
Larry’s head was beginning to clear. With clarity came the thought that this woman could probably break him like an after-dinner mint! Involuntarily he took a step back as she confronted him, inches from his face.
“You could have had me, Mr. Cludge.” She rebuked him, in her rich alto voice. “I’m twice the woman that number one is!”
“I’msureyouare! I’m sure you are!” nodded Larry, his voice cracking with barely suppressed panic.
Brilla flashed her trademark grin at the audience again.
“Never fear, Brunhelda! Nobody leaves the show empty-handed. Allow us to present you with…”
She lifted her eyes expectantly to the voice-over. It seemed happy to accommodate.
“Brunhelda Vojen. You have won your very own home-liposuction kit! Thank you for playing ‘Intergalactic, Inter-dimensional Buh-liiiiiind Date’!”
The purple parakeet flew onto stage again, carrying what looked suspiciously like a vacuum-cleaner attachment and a scalpel. It dropped them on the stage floor, at Brunhelda’s leather-booted feet.
A grin started to spread over Larry’s face. It died a quick and horrible death as Brunhelda turned to glare at him.
“Ingratitude!” she spat and, pausing only to pick up her prizes, she stalked off, stage-right.
Larry let out a gasp of relief. It was short lived.
“Come out, contestant number… three!”
Another figure walked out onto Larry’s half of the stage. For a moment, Larry wondered whether he was hallucinating.
He shook his head. No. His imagination wasn’t that vivid!
The thing facing him was human-shaped, but that was as far as it went. Everything below the neckline was mechanical.
A thousand comparisons flashed through Larry’s mind. C3PO. Metal Mickey. Robbie the Robot. Contestant number three’s body looked like a reject from a 60’s Sci-Fi B-Movie!
With one notable difference. All of those robots had a face! Contestant three’s head was just this: a glass jar full of liquid, and a large, floating brain. Different coloured wires protruded from pinprick holes in the jar, terminating at different points in the robotic neck and spinal column. Strangely enough, lights flashed along the length of each wire, contributing to the low-budget Hollywood effect.
It – she - clanked as she walked towards him. With the drugs wearing off, Larry was beginning to feel frightened again. Was the best yet to come? Or had the worst been saved until last?
With Brilla’s steel grip around his shoulders, he was forced to remain motionless, while the rejected contestant drew close enough to bump her jar against his cheek in the parody of a kiss.
“It’s not too late,” whispered the feminine voice from the speaker below the jar.
“Huh?” Larry’s eyes widened.
“You can change your mind, Mr. Cludge. It’s in the rules. The decision is not final or binding until the final rejectee walks off the stage.”
“I… I…” stammered Larry, with a rabbit-in-the-headlights look on his face.
“Never mind, Titania. Nobody leaves the show empty-ha…”
“He hasn’t decided yet,” Number Three interrupted. She turned back to Larry and her voice came through more forcefully. “You. Haven’t. Decided. Yet.”
Larry’s gaze flicked frantically between Brilla and Titania. His indecision was not helped by an angry hissing noise, coming from the other side of the partition.
Brilla tried once more. “Nobody leaves the show empty-handed, Titania. We ha…”
“Just say it. Only you have the final choice,” Titania cautioned him, her voice pitching louder as she saw Brilla nod at the technical crew again. “Say ‘number three’. Say you’ve changed your mind. They can’t stop you – JUST SAY IIiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii…”
The contestant’s entreaties trailed into a draw-out wail as a trap-door opened underneath her feet. Larry stared, his mouth hanging open, as the brain-droid disappeared downwards. She seemed to fall for rather a long time. Eventually, there was a distant thump, and a prolonged groaning.
“But you won’t go home empty-handed either, Titania,” said Brilla, speaking over the distant moans of contestant three. “You’ll be taking with you…”
Again with the voice-over.
“Titania Gulfanite. You have won this quality personal-lubrication kit. We hope you enjoyed your time on ‘Intergalactic, Inter-dimensional Buh-liiiiiind Date’!”
The purple parakeet again did its trick for the audience. This time it appeared to be holding a can in its beak. Larry gaped. It looked suspiciously like WD40 to him. He shook his head, dizzily. Okay, so the stuff got everywhere – but off-world? Impossible!
Right on cue, the bird dropped its package, right down the trap-door. It dropped like… like an oil-can. There was a distinctive tinkle, as of broken glass, when it landed.
Curiously enough, the sounds from the bottom of the trap-door ceased at that point as well.
Larry was trembling. He began to wish that someone would give him another nice injection. It was not to be.
Brilla turned to him, her face wrinkling up into manic lines.
“Are you ready to meet your dream date, chuck?”
He opened and closed his mouth but no words would come out.
“Well, heeeeere she is. Contestant number one!”
Finally, the partition rose.
“Hello loverrr.”
Larry’s eyes drank in every detail as if they might be his last.
Six feet and two inches of two-legged lioness stood before him. Her fur was the same shade of emerald that had been liberated in the first scuffle. Larry thought he could see a few fist-sized patches of baldness here and there, obviously where contestants two and three had been on a winning streak. She had a mane of lustrous white hair, running over her ears and down her back, and limpid amber eyes. The type of eyes that a cat would melt your heart with… just before it clawed your hand off.
He felt dwarfed until he noticed the height of the heels in her orange stiletto boots. By the time he’d noticed the boots, though, his attention was drawn to the spurs on the inside of each ankle. He shuddered, even as something went ‘pyoioioiinnnng’ inside him. His gaze travelled up those supple limbs to find a mustard yellow skirt, made of feathers and lace, but mostly of air. It was more of a suggestion of a skirt than a skirt itself. The blouse was a purple halter-bodice of eye-blinding sequinned material. What it lacked in volume, it certainly made up for in sheer spangle-value.
It just went to show – bad taste really could come in large, deadly, powerful packages. And proverbs like that could get you killed, thought Larry.
His legs were trembling so much, he thought they might give way. Contestant two flashed him a smile, and he felt an unaccountable urge to find the nearest tree and climb into it.
She slinked up to him and ran a single claw over his quivering cheek.
“Oh, Misterrr Cludge,” she breathed. “We’rrre going to have such a glorrrious date.”
“Mu… bwu… d-d-d-d…” managed Larry.
“Larry Cludge, meet Suki Marrauwl,” said Brilla. Larry could feel her fingers digging into his shoulder so hard they were virtually scraping the bone. “You’ve won a dream date of your choice, my two lovebirds. Now… what sort of outing would the two of you enjoy, hmm? Activity? Pampering? Or Seeing the Sights?”
A hamster stage-hand came scurrying out with a tray, and held it to Brilla. Looking at it, Larry could see that there were three brown envelopes laid upon it. One had a silhouette depiction of two people seemingly beating each other up with sandbags. The second had one silhouette lying down and (presumably) getting a massage from another, much more troll-like figure, and the third was a shadow-drawing of two figures, hand-in-hand, watching an exploding volcano from a nearby vista.
“Which of you is going to choose?” asked Brilla, beaming madly.
“Yourrr choice, darrrling,” purred Suki.
“But… I… no, you can ch-choose,” he stammered.
“Rrrreally. Pick one.”
“I really d-don’t mind.” Larry tried to lean away from the tray and all the consequences it implied.
“Pick one!!” Ms. Marrauwl hissed and, grabbing the tray from the hamster, dug it into Larry’s midriff.
Quaking with fear, he considered his options…
Last edited by Shady Stoat on Sat Feb 11, 2006 8:08 am; edited 4 times in total
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Smee
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| Posted: Sat Nov 05, 2005 2:55 am Post subject: |
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Excellent.
Poor Larry, but I think he got the best option - although probably with some pain involved. 
Let's stay away from anything that might involve fighting her, he'll definately lose.
The troll massage sounds just as painful but from a different source.
Go for option number 3 and remember not to ask her to eat him.
Happy Writing.
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The path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the Devil's own Satanic Herd!
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Ingrothechundyer
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| Posted: Sat Nov 05, 2005 6:03 am Post subject: |
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That was hilarious
Option three for me
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ethereal_fauna
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| Posted: Sat Nov 05, 2005 7:40 am Post subject: |
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He shoulda went for the fat lady...
Go for the activity. At least the picture on that suggested being armed with sandbags. If he's to be the wielder of sand, that's better than not having anything at all to smack her with.
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The maker of a sentence launches out into the infinite and builds a road into Chaos and old Night, and is followed by those who hear him with something of wild, creative delight. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Sat Nov 05, 2005 8:13 am Post subject: |
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ROFL!
Go Fauna! Go Fauna! 
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D-Lotus
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| Posted: Mon Nov 07, 2005 8:55 pm Post subject: |
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Nah, option three. All the 'things' were pretty creepy. Are you sure we can't run away with the blonde?
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Chapter 5: The Rendezvous
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Thu Nov 10, 2005 12:07 am Post subject: |
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The poll's going up some time tomorrow. 3 days as usual.
I'll be moving house in a week, so it's anyone's bet if I'll get the next chapter done in time or not.
Sorry for any possible delays, but it might give the story time to mature... or decompose, I'm not sure!
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D-Lotus
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| Posted: Thu Nov 10, 2005 7:47 pm Post subject: |
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Don't pressure yourself, you've already done enough!
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Thu Nov 10, 2005 11:46 pm Post subject: |
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| Poll polled. Three days to vote, starting from..... NOW!
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Smee
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| Posted: Thu Nov 10, 2005 11:52 pm Post subject: |
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Volcano for me
Happy House moving.
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ethereal_fauna
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| Posted: Fri Nov 11, 2005 3:22 am Post subject: |
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I voted for the sand bags...errr, the activity. Yeah.
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The maker of a sentence launches out into the infinite and builds a road into Chaos and old Night, and is followed by those who hear him with something of wild, creative delight. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
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Hyperion
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| Posted: Fri Nov 11, 2005 6:05 am Post subject: |
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| I think sandbags as well. *echoes Fauna* Watching a volcano explode at CLOSE RANGE... no. Having a massage by a TROLL... no. I've tried it.
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Ingrothechundyer
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| Posted: Fri Nov 11, 2005 6:12 am Post subject: |
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| Sight Seeing
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D-Lotus
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| Posted: Fri Nov 11, 2005 7:00 pm Post subject: |
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It don't HAVE to be a volcaoe, its jusy a symbollic thing for sight seeing. Not a very adequate symbol, but a symbol nevertheless and not necessarily the place they have to go to..
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