Stegosaurus posted:

at least post original zybourne artwork

change my name posted:

CrumFUNist! posted:

ahahahaha the legs

CrumFUNist! posted:

ahahahaha the legs

change my name posted:

quote posted:

Rough draft. Not for public consumption

PRELUDE

At the end of a long room filled with whispers and handshakes sits a man fondling a small, dark object. The ancient wooden benches along the room's perimeter are full, mostly of women and children, leaving the men to mingle. The man sits firmly offering avoiding eye contact which could be misinterpreted as an offer of his seat. He clutches the object nervously. Through a forrest of arms, legs, and coattails a small child wanders towards the man, drawn by curiousity and free of her unattentive mother's eye.

"What you got there, mister?", queries the girl.

He pauses for a moment, considering plots which might've employed this child as a spy, paid in food, to inquire. Exhausted and drawn to the child's innocence, the walls of secrecy melt for a moment.

"This, my darling, is a device. A device many men and many women have died to see, to understand, and to own. In many ways it is like one of your toys, but a toy for adults. This, darling, is The Zybourne Clock."

Suddenly, barely visible in the dim light, the child's eyes change. The hazelnut brown tones are ungluing into silver, melting into swirls of pearl and mechanical shades. Her body loses its shy posture and rapidly conforms to a rigid, upright stance. Her mouth opens slightly and with programmed precision, she moves her wrist slowly towards her tiny lips.

"Orange Fox to Deitrus. Orange Fox to Deitrus. The Golden Egg has been located. I repeat, we've got it. Over".

Frozen with guilt, the man slowly begins to run through the crowd. The girl screams, "surprise sex! surprise sex! He tried to touch me! Help!".

For Dirk McLauren, Wedesnday January 19 2381 has begun very poorly.

GriszledMelkaba posted:

What the hell is zybournce clock. like what is this.

Coffee Quack posted:

A device many men and many women have died to see, to understand, and to own. In many ways it is like one of your toys, but a toy for adults.

Coffee Quack posted:

In many ways it is like one of your toys, but a toy for adults.

Coffee Quack posted:

A device many men and many women have died to see, to understand, and to own. In many ways it is like one of your toys, but a toy for adults.

PaisleyOrangutan posted:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S7hElo-fSj0

christ

GriszledMelkaba posted:

Be serious and chill no jokes what is it.

a baby coyote.. posted:

now all your hard work parodying zyblourne clock is the archives and no1 can find them cuz search is gone 4evr, and is all 4naught much like original zyblourne clock. the ironing is delicious

PURPLE DRANK posted:

music loving owns

McCaine posted:

Incorrect, because I possess the entire thing

Also, there is no dimension, state of being, realm of ideas, or possible world in which the zybourne clock is not funny

Ingwit posted:

Johnny Fiveaces powered down the magnabike with a not quite unhearble hum and checked his chronometer. “drat.” he hissed threw his clinched teeth which were surrounded by the stubble of five days where in he had not shaven himself at all. It was almost chromodawn at Clashpoint. Alreddy the sun was sitting Walliston’s Hill ah blaze like so much molten meddle or a coin, gyreating in the air, tossed there by the uncaring hand of an imaginary god that doesn’t exist, borne from the interior minds of the hobbled masses. The sky was the color of a television tuned to a dead channel that was orange. drat, he, Johnny, thought. We thought we were opening a new beginning with our mad dreams of time travail but ironically the only time now is the time of which we’re out of. It’s almost humorous. Yeah, I could almost laugh, if I hadn’t cried that part of me away when my parents were maccasared by Dr. Malaprop and the government sanctioned murderers of “CAPITAL”.

He lit a Nicosheen brand swaggerette and took a dip drag, sinking farther into his inferior horologue. He thought of Nina and her mellifluous buttocks that he used to love to bang. Even now his nano enhanced hearing could almost hear her vagina lips quivering with moisture and also pleasure, like a slice of synth-ham being tongued by one of Malaprop’s slamhounds. When he got back to City5, he was going to do some sex, no doubt about that. “That’s right doll” he said to nobody and the wind. They were going to do it hard. He smiled, blowing smoke from his nostrils. They were going to do it cyber hard.

Barry Lemonade posted:

Monocular posted:

"Look what I found," Nina said to Scholtzy who revolted in his heel to face her. She was clod in a trenchcoat of the finest purple velvatine that she had found in the closet of the steam hotel room. "Stop foolin' around wood ya kid?" Scholtzy said as he twinked at her slyly, tossing her a steam nickel. "Johnny Fiveaces said the map to the Golden Egg might be here along with the cooperatives." In typically womanly fission, Nina turned back to the closest and submerged with a large velvatine hat to match and a necklast with a large time-clock on it. Scholtzy gaped at the clock and elaborated "Nina! We have to regather the Golden Egg before Dr. Malaprop gets his grippy mitts on it!" he said as he walked around. "Hold it busta!" Nina said as her eyes rolled back into her skull. "I don't know who be writin yo' dialogue but y'all sound like a retard Speak 'N Spell. And what's with all these clocks and poo poo, don't nobody need to be on time in a landfill. Speakin of landfill, they having a two-fo-one on yo busted wrinkled rags, which yall would think would be smooth as hell with all this stanky rear end steam and poo poo."

Schotlzy slowly removed the outfit from Nina and they left the steam hotel, never to speak of the incident again.