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Kernel Monsoon
Jul 18, 2006


A deliberately over-engineered or overdone machine that performs a very simple task in a very complex fashion - Rube Goldberg Machine.

Q: What is Space Station 13?


Space Station 13 is a top down 2D multiplayer spaceman game, running on BYOND. It features an overwhelming amount of depth and complexity beneath simplistic cartoon graphics. It is a melting pot of ideas and genres, has tons of replayability, and generates fantastic and often hilarious stories.

The game centres around a research station, owned by a giant corporation known as NanoTrasen somewhere off in deep space. The game functions in rounds, and at the beginning of each round every player picks a job as a crew member on the station. These vary from anything to an Engineer, Scientist or Medical Doctor, down to the lower responsibility roles such as Janitor and Assistant. The gist is to perform your role and help keep the station running in a tidy and ordered fashion, which you'll quickly find to be impossible.

When the crew aren't turning on each other through sheer paranoia, they will also face various kinds of danger depending on the round: Sleeper Agents hell bent on sabotage, Soul-Sucking Aliens, RPG toting Syndicate Operatives and more. Not to mention the occupational hazards of working in space: Meteor showers, Radiation storms, Airlock mishaps and Catastrophic engine failure. These dangers have their toll, and can usually result in the death of everyone on board; or for those that survive long enough, a death defying run for the escape shuttle.

What do smart gamer folk think of this 2D Spaceman game?

Rock Paper Shotgun posted:

A sci-fi multiplayer sandbox with the same utterly batshit more-is-more design as Dwarf Fortress.

Creator of DayZ, Dean Hall posted:

I love Space Station 13! It's awesome.

PC Gamer UK Magazine posted:

Listed #45 - THE TOP 50 FREE PC GAMES

PC Gamer posted:

Almost anything is possible, every round is different, and everyone is insane. And those are just some of the reasons I love Space Station 13

Tom, BYOND founder posted:

Wow, that's insane. It's a loving miracle that even compiles at all..

Sounds awesome. How do I play?

As previously mentioned, Space Station 13 runs on the BYOND gaming platform. For years it was assumed SS13 ran poorly due to BYOND. In reality, SS13's performance is directly related to the ineptitude of its own coders over the last decade, which is rather embarassing.

Tom runs BYOND, but over the years development and improvements have come slowly, if at all. This is just something we'll have to deal with, unless Tom gets a constant stream of cash flow to maybe fix some of the bigger problems.. Our wiki contains all the info you need to get set up to play, but in case you don't want to read that, here's the process:

1) Go to BYOND, download their client, and install it.
2) Register an account with BYOND.
OPTIONAL STEP) If you want to authenticate your account as being goon-owned, go here and follow the instructions you're given.
3) Log into the BYOND client. If it pops up any updates at you, download them and restart the client.
OPTIONAL STEP]) If you want to have the servers on a quick list for you to click in BYOND, go to Space Station 13's byond page and add it to your favorites.

You're now all set up to connect to the game! Bear in mind you want to connect to the "LLJK" (previously Gibbed) servers if you want the goon servers. You can do that one of a few ways:

* Click the links in your quick list, if you decided to set it up.
*OR* Hit Ctrl+O in the byond window and enter either byond:// or byond:// in the prompt.
*OR* Have the BYOND client open and click one of these banners:

:siren: EU Server: :siren:

I joined the game and... what the gently caress is going on? How do I do anything?!

I may have neglected to mention that this game has a kind of unforgiving learning curve. It's much better than it used to be, but compared to your average videogame there's a bit of figuring out and discovering you have to do before you can really function effectively. You may want to observe your first few games if you have the patience for it, just to get a feel for how the game generally goes down. Again, :siren:our wiki has an article to get you up to speed and you really should read it!:siren: In case you don't want to, here's some basic pointers but don't be suprised if you end up getting confused:

Animated .Gif tutorial #1: Picking up, Selecting and Dropping Objects (More to come)

Is there a list of controls?

Controls are both keyboard and mouse. Use the keys to move your character around, and the mouse to interact with objects and select commands off the command panel. You can also type commands in manually.

We recommend you use the new WASD hotkey mode! [added Sep 2013!]
Here's a list:

[TAB] = [Toggle W,A,S,D Movement]
[T] = [Say]
[X] = [Toggle Throw]
[C] = [Use active hand]
[E] = [Switch hands]

Default movement and shortcut keys:

* If your main screen goes black, you've either been knocked out, blinded or are dying.

* Once you're dead, you're dead for the rest of the round unless someone revives you. There's no need to hang around if you don't want to if you're dead, you can come back for another round later on once the current one is finished.

* If you're confused about how to play, you can adminhelp us and ask how it's done. Try to actually make an effort to figure it out for yourself first please, though!

Help! I'm totally lost, where am I?

Please consult your new Cogstation Map [Current as of 2 August 2013]!

So i've figured out how to move around and all that. What now?

Now you figure out what job you want to play as. The jobs aren't hard-locked or anything - anyone can do any task in the game, the jobs mainly decide who has access to what. If an assistant tries to get into Research for example, he'll find the doors won't even let him in because he's not supposed to be there! This goes for a few other things on the station too, but it's mostly the doors. Here's a basic rundown of the jobs and what they're expected to do:

Command Staff
Captain: Highest authority on the station. This is akin to painting a huge target on yourself.
Head of Personnel: Direct superior of all civilian-class jobs. Sort of an evil vizier to the captain. Often vanishes without a trace a few minutes in.
Chief Engineer: Direct superior of the engineering department. Slaps the Engineers for not starting the engine.
Research Director: Direct superior of the science division. Decides who should be researching what.
Head of Security: Direct superior of the station's security forces. A special job you can only get via application!

Engineering Staff
Engineer: Responsible for starting the engine and keeping up maintenance. They seldom do either.
Mechanic: Tinkers who can build all sorts of fixtures like vending machines and computers.
Miner: Goes off to the asteroid belt and beats up rocks to get ore to send to the station.
Quartermaster: Sell and order supplies for the station. Try to turn a profit by negotiating with traders.

Science Staff
Scientist: Does science on explosives, chemicals, artifacts and the fabric of space-time itself.
Roboticist: One of two jobs capable of bringing back the dead. Puts people's brains into cyborg units.
Geneticist: The other job capable of revival. Creates clones and superpowered mutants.
Medical Doctor: Doesn't do any science, but tries to stop people from dying. Emphasis on "tries".

Security Staff
Security Officer: Tries to keep everyone from murdering each other. Throws criminals in the brig to cool off.
Detective: Tries to find out who did the crimes. In theory. In practice he just shoots people with his gun.

Civilian Staff
Botanist: Grows plants and produce in Hydroponics. Yes, that includes weed.
Janitor: Clean up messes, slip up other crew members on your freshly clean floors.
Chef: Makes meals for the crew, usually from the crew.
Barman: A classy gent who reduces the bar's patrons to slurring, vomiting wrecks.
Chaplain: Normally of minimal use, but immune to the evil spells of wizards and vampires.
Assistant: The idea is they assist the other jobs with their duties. The reality is they're a hideous horde of grey-suited vermin.

Okay, so I got myself a job. What happens now?

You either do your job and try to help the station, or ignore it altogether and go on wacky hijinks of your choosing.
That is if you don't run afoul of whoever the station's enemy is this round. The game is played in rounds that end when either the foes of the station win, or the station is evacuated and the work shift ends. (Evacuation is usually counted as a victory for the crew.) There's always a catch to the round though - a randomly selected crewmember could be a traitor with a mission and various devious spy gear, a hideous alien creature bent on absorbing the crew's DNA and stealing their identities, a vampire out to suck the crew's blood, an evil wizard with dark magic spells, or even more weird stuff can occur like a group of terrorists trying to blow the station up with a nuclear bomb, or an outright anti-capitalist revolution gripping the crew.

Be aware that any of the crew may be trying funny stuff anyway, since that's the nature of the game - the game became popular from tales of it essentially being a grief simulator, and to some extent it still is. Bannings have been relaxed recently, though you'll still cop a punishment for being really rampantly unfunny. (Yes this is down to moderator discretion, so be sure your scheme isn't played out or trite before you carry it out.)

I'm still not convinced this is the game for me...

How about a list of various bits and pieces we've got going on?

* Our coders add new features and squash bugs quite often.
* Powerful admin tools allow our admins to spice up dull rounds with whatever gimmicks they may be able to think of.
* Active admin staff keep stupid griefers and unfunny idiots off the servers. (Note that clever griefers are excluded from this treatment.)
* It's easy to build new things with the raw resources lying around the station. Want to build your own room? Sure! Fill it with vending machines? Of course, just call an electrician!
* A Chemicals and reagents system which interacts with all kinds of other game mechanics. Want to melt someone with acid by throwing it on their face? How about filling up a spritzer bottle with napalm for a deadly prank?
* Ridiculous stories to be made and told by the various crazy poo poo the crew end up doing!
* It's free!

I enjoy the concept of the game, but jesus christ..Any plans to remake it on something that isn't BYOND?

Yes! We're working on the Space Station 13 Remake. Head over to our site to see how we're doing!

Space Station 13 in video format!

Razage's Lets Play SS13 series! Official Thread here:

PlumpHelmetPunk also does pretty great 'Let's Plays' of SS13

Other Space Station 13 related threads on these forums:
Old Old Thread - You'll need archives to view it. This one is OLD.
Old Thread - Started May 16, 2012.
Secrets of Space Station 13 - Found a cool or funny thing you'd like to share without everyone and their mother knowing about it? Post it here!

SS13-related Sites you might like to visit:

GOON HUB: Stat tracking site for the goonstation servers:

The Goonstation Wiki - The closest thing you'll get to a game manual. Be aware there's a lot of old and outdated information on here due to stuff in the game being changed quite often and the lack of wiki staff to keep it up to date and beat the crap out of the wiki in general.
The Goonstation Forums - Got banned? Come here to appeal it. Got suggestions or want to discuss various things? We've got that too.
All it does is generates a bunch of drama and pisses off the SA board administrators, which we don't want to do!
Also, our IRC channel is #goonstation on!

:siren:I can't believe I'm forced to write something as monumentally ridiculous as this, but don't loving poo poo up this thread with your dumb posts about poo. Nobody wants to read your low effort content-free poo poo post:siren:

Kernel Monsoon fucked around with this message at 20:56 on May 17, 2014


Kernel Monsoon
Jul 18, 2006

Reserved For Classic SS13 Stories:

Hero Monkey

Angry Diplomat posted:

When I handed the auth disk to a random helpful monkey, I was thinking, "oh poo poo, nobody will expect a monkey to have the disk. This is the best idea ever!" I could never have known how incredibly, fatefully right I was.

Daeren posted:

For those who weren't in the round, Angry was the captain and gave the disk to the monkey. I and a bunch of other guys, meanwhile, were syndicates, and for a bunch of people really rusty at the role with only a loose plan, we were actually terrifyingly efficient. We bombed telescience, the armory, genetics, the captain's quarters, and chemistry all in about the same span of time and descended on the station like locusts, running to each other's rescue and murdering/spacing at least half a dozen people who came to the brig to stop us, including the captain. However, we noticed the captain didn't have the disk, so we went on a giant manhunt for it before we put two and two together from radio announcements, realizing a monkey was running around with it. When I found it, well...this is a pretty accurate summation.

The monkey drat near shot me into critical when I found it in the hallway, and I chased it into QM where I had it cornered for the rest of the living syndicates when a guy signed on as HoS, walked down the hallways, saw me, and stunned me before shooting me into critical. I blew myself up out of spite, and watched as the monkey juked pretty much everybody on the station, having somehow stolen an emag. It made it to the escape shuttle while the two people left alive protected it, and it emagged the console to make it escape early before the syndicates could kill it and steal the disk.

Angry Diplomat posted:

Also don't forget that the monkey paused near the end of the round, pulled out a piece of paper, labeled it I WON'T LET YOU DOWN CAPTAIN, dropped it and pointed at it so that the ghosts could see his message. The greatest monkey

e: Also also don't forget that he initially got that revolver by stealing it from a Syndicate agent. He started with a flash, graduated to a stun baton, then used that to procure the revolver, all from Syndies. Pretty much all of deadchat was cheering and going completely loving crazy while this magnificent little ape turned a tragic last stand into a mythic victory. When he gunned Daeren down even one of the dead Syndies started cheering him on, because god drat.

Angry Diplomat posted:

I believe a Syndicate agent was trying to stun the monkey with it while he hid under tables in the bar. He succeeded only in arming the monkey further.

Jan 8, 2005
Because we want to! Because we want to!

If you are interested in playing this; be aware that you will most likely knock yourself out trying to put on a pair of shoes in your first game.

Doctor Doodler
Feb 14, 2012

Stealing some stories from the old thread.

Angry Diplomat posted:

The Doom Peel

If a banana peel is left on the floor, anyone who steps on it will slip and fall down. There used to be a Clown job, which started with a banana and was mostly responsible for playing pranks, telling jokes, raising spirits, and getting brutally murdered by the psychotic crew. When my brother first started playing SS13, he chose Clown and spent the entire round slipping people with his banana peel, farting in their faces while they lay stunned, and then peeling out of there like a brightly coloured human rally car while furiously honking his bike horn. He did this so much and so competently that several people were actively trying to murder him, which of course led to more slipping, farting, and honking before he'd lie low in a locker somewhere until they gave up the search.

One particular victim seemed to have terrible luck, as he ran afoul of my brother over, and over, and over again through no apparent fault of his own. He must have spent a third of the round lying on the floor with fart in his face and a cheery HONK HONK HONK ringing in his ears. After pratfalling for the fourteenth or fifteenth time, he impotently screamed, "CLOOOOOOOOOOOOWN!" at his retreating assailant. This had no effect, aside from causing my brother to laugh so hard that it brought him to tears.

That victim was THE OVERWASP, one of the game's administrators. :stare:

Rather than get angry, THE OVERWASP saw the humour in my brother's clowny antics. He telepathically instructed him to stand next to his banana peel for a moment, then implanted the clown's consciousness into the peel itself, giving my brother the ability to move it around directly.

As it turns out, a player-controlled banana peel is nothing short of apocalyptic in the right hands. The station rapidly descended into anarchy as police chases became Keystone Kopps fiascoes, Janitors were left facedown in their own suds, and panicking assistants fled shrieking from the demonically-possessed banana peel before it sent them tumbling facefirst into vending machines. In a desperate bid to restore order, one of the heads of staff seized the unholy fruit rind in his hand and stuffed it in his pocket. Striding triumphantly to the airlock to space the offending item, he met his doom when it leaped out of his pocket and slipped him, causing him to careen into the open void and be lost forever.

The escape shuttle was called, and the crew fled in terror, abandoning the station to its new master: the Doom Peel.

Don't accept drinks from The Devil

I played a few rounds as a Bartender named The Devil, with a huge black beard and glowing red eyes. I would start the round by taking several pills of Kelotane (a drug that cures burn damage over time), drinking a bunch of welding fuel, returning to the bar, and setting myself on fire. This produced a large but short-lived cloud of flame around me, giving most of the bar an ominously scorched appearance, and it allowed me keep burning for an extremely long period of time.

Because of the Kelotane in my system, the fire wouldn't actually hurt me; I could just stand around, blazing like a loving bonfire, chatting amiably with people as they tried to decide whether to order drinks or run for a fire extinguisher. So, when a crewmember walked into the bar, he would discover a charred hellhole staffed by a flame-wreathed, red-eyed man named The Devil. A surprising number of people decided to order drinks anyway.

Now, I figure The Devil knows how to throw a loving party. He doesn't just chuck a case of beer on the counter and call it quits, right? So whenever someone ordered a drink, I would mix together some hard liquor (usually vodka and rum), spritz in some welding fuel, and use a syringe to transfer some of my own blood to the glass, creating an unholy devilblood cocktail. Occasionally I would poo and pee in the glass as well, adding Jenkem to the list of Terrible Things Nobody Should Drink that were in the concoction.

Despite the fact that I did all of this gross poo poo in plain sight, just about everybody would take the drat thing and drink it anyway. Contrary to common sense, drinking that horrible sludge didn't really have any major negative effects, aside from moderate drunkenness and perhaps a mild Jenkem addiction. What's significant is that the welding fuel would remain in the imbiber's system for a while - and, party animal that he was, The Devil didn't skimp on the welding fuel.

Most rounds, this all amounted to nothing more than an overeager assistant spraying me with an extinguisher, putting out my hellfire, and incurring the wrath of Satan. But on one fateful round, the Botanist left a shitload of weed in the bar for everyone to enjoy. Paper was found, joints were rolled, someone produced an igniter, and then it was time to spark up.

The bar turned into a loving inferno. Some of the crew stopped, dropped, and rolled like sensible people, while others tried to flee in a drunken fiery panic, which was hilarious to watch because the really drunk ones had scrambled controls and would stagger around in random directions while screaming "Ooooohhhh ggggoooodddd!!" Throughout all of this, The Devil stood at his bar, unharmed by the omnipresent cloud of fire, and laughed uproariously while mainlining vodka.

I don't think anybody died, but some people probably came close. Things just got funnier later on, as Engineering failed to do its job and the station's power went out of whack. Power surges caused lights to explode, and the drinkers who'd left before the fire got hit by the sparks, had the fuel still in their bodies ignite, and promptly immolated their surroundings while screaming in uncomprehending terror. It was Hell on Earth. It was also, to be honest, completely hysterical.

I don't do that anymore, partly because it's kind of a dick move, partly because it gets old fast, and partly because an admin got pretty annoyed with me (but he was cool enough to settle for my promise not to do it anymore). Even so, though, I'll be damned if it wasn't some of the funniest poo poo I'd ever seen.

Angry Diplomat posted:

Don't accept medical treatment from The Devil: diabolic possession for fun and profit

There used to be an SS13 job called the Head Surgeon, which entailed being in charge of Medbay, the Robotics lab, and the Genetics lab. Roboticists can remove brains from people and put them into robot bodies, creating cyborgs; for this reason, there are usually a couple of Assistants hanging out at the Robotics door, begging to be "borged" so they can be cool robot mans instead of lovely greysuits.

Unbeknownst to many, brains can also be put into different bodies. This really doesn't give you anything except a dead dude with some other dude's brain in his head. However, if you bring that body back to life in some way (either using the Genetics lab to clone it, or using a particular complicated chemical mix to resurrect it with a chance of making it gib instead), the player that controls the new clone is determined by the brain - so you've got Joe Schmoe running around in John Q. Public's body.

The Devil did not go to med school to save lives. He did not study and slave just so he could collect a fat paycheque. The Devil practices medicine because he loves to indulge his scientific curiosity (and because he likes the colour red).

My early forays into brain transplantation went rather well. After a few misfires (the Robotics lab was full of blood, gibs, discarded brains, and rotting bodies with empty skulls), I finally got the hang of it and went looking for a likely victim volunteer. As luck would have it, I found a dead Quartermaster lying around in Medbay, and the body was fresh! I dragged him back to my operating table and excitedly pulled out his brain. Then I plugged it into another relatively intact body I had lying around, slapped the corpse into the cloning tube, and... discovered that he couldn't be cloned because the player had logged out. gently caress!

My appointed lab assistant, a delightfully amoral Engineer with a suspiciously firm grasp of brain surgery, saw a silver lining. He laid out the plan, and before long it was The Devil's turn to lie on the operating table. A few snips later and a brand spanking new Quartermaster was stepping out of the cloning pod, naked as a jaybird and healthy as a horse.

A Quartermaster with The Devil's brain. A Quartermaster who was literally The Devil in disguise.

It took less than three minutes for me to completely embezzle the station's entire Cargo budget and funnel it straight into Robotics research. None of the other Quartermasters batted an eye when they saw their coworker walk in and start using the Cargo Bay computer. They sure did yell a lot when they saw that big fat 0 though. I just quietly continued my experiments while my Roboticist lackeys gleefully spent their vast fortune to research nicer cyborg upgrades. Science is its own reward~

Don't accept medical treatment from The Devil: in space, no one can hear you file a malpractice claim

In a later round, I was eager to continue my highly unethical (read: highly hilarious) work. I promptly shuffled off to Robotics, prepped my surgical tools, and walked to the door to look for vict- oh hey an Assistant! What's up, little guy? You want to be borged? Hmm, I do need someone to donate a brain for a little experiment I'm planning. No, I promise I won't throw your brain in the garbage; you will be alive at the end of this. Yes, I know you want to be a Security cyborg - trust me, you will have a totally new lease on life by the end of this! Step into my office...

Idiot brain in hand, I hurried off to Genetics and grabbed a monkey. Previous tests had proven that it was not possible to resurrect monkeys with human brains, which saddened me, but I had a different objective in mind this time around. I dragged the monkey over to the genetic engineering console, put it into the pod, and used my ~mad science~ knowhow to... improve it. Yes, a beautiful new human body for my eager test subject.

He was not very happy to be revived as a black woman with Justin Bieber hair and a randomized name.

After a lengthy tantrum and a minor physical altercation, I calmed my volunteer down by promising to fix the problem. If she would just step into the genetics pod, it would be quite simple for me to make a few little changes that would resolve her complaints. Mollified, the grumbling lass hopped into the pod, which I promptly locked before randomly rolling my face across the keyboard of the genetics computer, bombarding the subject with mutations willy-nilly for a short time. I unlocked the pod and proudly invited my volunteer to step out and survey the changes.

"gently caress" screamed the black woman, falling to the ground and spasming madly, "What the gently caress did you do to me? PISS."

"Interesting," said The Devil, consulting his medical scanner. "It would appear that you are suffering from epilepsy and Tourette's Syndrome."

"COCK!" asserted the woman. "I'm going to loving kill you!"

This drew a frown. "That is not very polite, madam. I was enjoying our professional relationship, but if you are going to behave in this way, I must ask you to leave. I will simply have to find another assistant."

And that is why an insane homeless epileptic uncontrollably cursing naked black woman spent the rest of the round trying to convince anyone who'd listen that The Devil had stolen her identity.

Angry Diplomat posted:

My god, it's full of butt, part 1: the Cluwne factory

One of the round types in SS13 is Wizard, in which a powerful wizard is tasked with completing several objectives, while the crew must attempt to kill him. Wizards get access to a huge variety of spells, but can only choose four of them from the list at the start of the round; these are the spells they are limited to for the whole round.

One such spell is Curse of the Cluwne (at least, I think that's what it's called). This spell is generally considered a choice for "advanced" wizard players, since it has an extremely long cooldown, only targets one opponent, and can only be used at melee range, making it quite risky to use. It's still a popular spell, though, as it is far and away the griefiest spell of all. The Curse instantly transforms its victim into a Cluwne: a morbidly obese, subhuman, epileptic, brain-damaged, amazingly annoying ur-clown named "the cluwne" and wearing utterly hideous neon green clown clothing that is cursed and therefore cannot be removed. Cluwnes are traditionally marked for death by their non-cursed former comrades, and even when they manage to escape being murdered by an angry mob, they are so loving terrible at everything that their very existence is torment and they commonly wind up begging for death since their incredible incompetence can actually make it difficult for them to successfully commit suicide.

I have played in quite a few Wizard rounds, but one still sticks out as my absolute favourite. The wizard went on a Cluwney rampage that was funny as hell on its own, but the actions of one enterprising Roboticist turned the round from "hilarious" to "oh jesus my sides I'm dying over here" in no time flat. This ambitious soul retrieved a murdered Cluwne and dragged it back to his lab; ordinarily this would be a reason for the Cluwne to rejoice, since a Cluwne brain can still function perfectly normally if transferred into a cyborg, granting the player a new lease on life.

The Roboticist did not borg the Cluwne. He had other plans. Butt plans.

The deceased sad-clown was delivered to Genetics, where the Roboticist and a Geneticist entered into collusion. Now two people were in on the butt plans.

I have no idea what madness they got up to in there, but I do know that the second Roboticist was put on Butt Duty, bringing the known number of butt plan conspirators up to at least three. It is also likely that a delivery man was involved so as to speed the process along, as Butt Duty was a full-time job. All those butts had to come from somewhere, however:

They were cloning Cluwnes.

My god, it's full of butt, part 2: the buttening

The mastermind behind it all sat contentedly at his operating table and worked with astounding assembly-line efficiency. Behind him was a locker with a seemingly limitless number of twitching, honking, weeping Cluwnes stuffed into it; he would grab a Cluwneclone, slap it onto the table, neatly slice off its butt, indifferently cut out its brain, hurl the dead body and retarded brain down the disposal chute while he set the butt to one side, and repeat. The man on Butt Duty would then grab the Cluwne butt and slap a robot arm onto it, creating a Buttbot, a butt on wheels that served no purpose except to be a butt and say the word "butt."

The efficiency and hard work of the Butt Conspiracy paid off, and before long Medbay was entirely crammed with Buttbots, to the point where the entire area was rendered non-functional and impassable due to the surging ocean of little wheeled cyberbutts happily beeping "butt" in a tinny chorus. But(t) crowding was not the issue - Buttbots do one thing aside from simply say "butt" now and again. When a Buttbot hears someone speak, it has a chance to repeat what was said, with "butt" substituted in place of random words.

This became an issue when the Captain strolled into Medbay and was aghast at its sorry state. "What the gently caress is going on here?" he shouted.

The Buttbots chirped up in a gleeful, deafening chorus. "What the butt is butt on here?" "Butt the gently caress butt going on butt?" "What butt butt is going butt here?" and so on and so forth, in a disorienting wave of auditory butt. This infuriated the Captain further, but his hollering and order-giving only further excited the Buttbots, making it totally impossible for anyone nearby to hear what was said or get any idea of what the gently caress was going on amidst the titanic cacophony of butt. The Captain flew into a rage and decided to destroy all of the Buttbots, but he forgot that they leave smears of poo when destroyed; it was not long before he slipped head-over-heels and wound up prone and stunned in a puddle of human excrement, cursing relentlessly while the legion of Buttbots around him babbled back page upon page upon page of buttified imitation.

Seeing this, some jokester took a radio, turned on its microphone so that it would publicly broadcast anything it picked up, and tossed it into the room.

Well, poo poo, now nobody could hear anything. Every radio on the station became a hellish noise cannon, blasting out an incomprehensible wall of recursive butt laced with garbled cursing and butt-riddled mockeries of the crew's anguished cries for silence. At some point a bunch of the Buttbots came within hearing distance of the Cluwneclone closet; this is significant because Cluwnes will randomly and uncontrollably burst into fits of screamed honking. There were dozens of Cluwnes in that thing, and their eerie wails of HONK HONK HONK HONK HONK soon became a HONK HONK butt HONK butt blared forth from uncountable Buttbot speakers, received by the radio and broadcast throughout the station, magnifying upon itself until it was quite literally impossible to divine the slightest scrap of understanding from the game's text box as it was choked by dozens of pages of recursive buttspam per second. The Captain was helpless to stop it. The Roboticists were churning out Buttbots faster than he could destroy them, leaving him effectively stranded in the middle of the deafening, butt-packed hell that had once been Medbay.

I don't even know what the gently caress happened to that wizard, and I don't care. He was not the true villain of that round. The Robutticists were.

Somebody post DISASSEMBLE.

Feb 8, 2012

Being social makes me swell!

Be advised, the station can and will violently explode for little to no reason. Learn what internals are and use them!

girth brooks part 2
Sep 6, 2011

Bush did 911

Fun Shoe

This bug seems to pop up from time to time:

If whenever you click on an in game menu button (choosing hair, changing valve pressure, ordering stuff from QM, etc.) it opens up a tab in your web browser then you need to update Internet Explorer.

EDIT: Electricians are Mechanics now.

girth brooks part 2 fucked around with this message at 06:36 on May 29, 2013

Nov 3, 2006


Someone must tell the tale of Mad King Elmo

Snatch Duster
Feb 20, 2007

by FactsAreUseless

Free beatbeat!

Moonshine Rhyme
Mar 26, 2010

Hate Hate Hate Hate Hate

You don't test the macho man, not ever not never

Dec 26, 2010

We're in the business of extending man's senses.

Average Days on Space Station 13

The station fell into the sun.

One day, it arrived and began to devour the station.

The world's most deadly merry-go-round, made of cargo loaders and garbage crushers.

The generator migrated to the chapel and demanded worship.

The Syndicate carved up the station with a sectioner beam.

Thor pissed off the crew by zapping everyone with lightning and throwing a hammer at them. They shoved him into a crate and fired him into space. Odin showed up for revenge and, after a period of smashing things, took residence in the Bridge. A clown tried to attack him and was repelled.

There was an accident. Space stopped working correctly. The station was torn from its moorings and sent elsewhere.

The Head of Security and the Chaplain valiantly hold a fire at bay with extinguishers and a medibot...

...but are forced to retreat.

Archenteron posted:

Someone must tell the tale of Mad King Elmo

Elmo came to the station one day. Elmo was not happy. Nobody was tickling elmo and the elmo did not like it. The elmo began to stalk the crew, hurling spears at them with deadly precision from the shadows.

la la, la la

la la, la la

elmo's world

atomicthumbs fucked around with this message at 07:00 on May 29, 2013

Nov 28, 2007

Take me at your own risk.

Kiss From a Hog

Cooking in this game is very, very robust.

I should also get around to retelling stories of the old stations, including one where I got to test-drive an early Changeling feature as the clown.

Oct 8, 2007

OrangeSoda digivolved into Monzaemon!

OrangeSoda has unlocked BEAR POWERS!

Jebediah Flarearms says, "HEY"
Jebediah Flarearms says, "They killed me because I was dragging Scruffy to Sex."
Jebediah Flarearms says, "Sec*"
Jebediah Flarearms says, "NOT THAT."
Jebediah Flarearms says, "loving typos."

girth brooks part 2
Sep 6, 2011

Bush did 911

Fun Shoe

Bellegar the Wise pissed in God's eye. God blinked.

Weedlord Cheeto posted:

Lance Schaeffer has been stunned with the stun baton by Sveta Odryna!
You have added Stun Baton to the backpack.
Sveta Odryna has grabbed Lance Schaeffer passively!
Sveta Odryna has grabbed Lance Schaeffer aggressively (now hands)!
Sveta Odryna has reinforced his grip on Lance Schaeffer (now neck)!
Sveta Odryna has temporarily tightened his grip on Lance Schaeffer!
Lance Schaeffer gasps.
Sveta Odryna has tightened his grip on Lance Schaeffer's neck!
Lance Schaeffer gasps.
Bellegar the Wise [145.9] says, "I'm strangling the Chaplain to prove that Jesus isn't real"
Bellegar the Wise (as Sveta Odryna) says, "I'm strangling the Chaplain to prove that Jesus isn't real"
Lance Schaeffer gasps.
Bellegar the Wise [145.9] says, "rip"
Bellegar the Wise (as Sveta Odryna) says, "rip"
Lance Schaeffer gasps.
Smokey Dogg [145.9] says, "Rip"
Lance Schaeffer gasps.
Lance Schaeffer gasps.
Lance Schaeffer gasps.
Lance Schaeffer seizes up and falls limp, his eyes dead and lifeless...
Bellegar the Wise (as Sveta Odryna) says, "Jesus isn't real nerd"
Sveta Odryna farts on the bible.
A mysterious force smites Sveta Odryna!
OOC is now enabled.

girth brooks part 2 fucked around with this message at 08:12 on May 29, 2013

Mar 4, 2009

:shobon: I haven't played this in more than a year, but it warms my heart to see at least one story with me in it in the OP.

Dec 15, 2008

Hell Gem

I was one of the chefs in that Chefs vs Zombies screenshot. It all started with more than one captain arriving at the station. There were in fact closer to five captains. The captains gathered on the bridge to bask in the glory of their big, green hats. Little did they know that fate took unkindly to their hubris. The bridge was stormed by a flock of zombies. Back to back with their fellow captain, cussing up storms, they fell to the zombie horde. The station went quiet as the AI announced to the public that the captain convention had been utterly destroyed. They were now part of the undead horde.

Centcom responded to the threat by deploying clowns. Lots and lots of clowns. Honks and squeeky footsteps were heard throughout the station as the clumsy, red-nosed gentlemen went forth and died in scores to silly deaths like stumbling in areas exposed to vacuum and stumbling infront of zombies.

Next came the chefs. Lots and lots of chefs. Swedish accents broke the sadness of a captain con ruined and a clown posse decimated by Darwinism. Rolling pins in hand, they cut down the undead like lambs for the slaughter. Many a brave Swede fell that day, but among the gibs of their friends, stood a brave few and declared the station free. It was time to feast, and there was plenty to cook.

Donnerberg fucked around with this message at 09:05 on May 29, 2013

Captain Bravo
Feb 16, 2011

An Emergency Shitpost
has been deployed...

...but experts warn it is
just a drop in the ocean.

Some more stories from the old thread, because what better way to ring in the new than by filling it with poo poo from the old! :v:

Eponymous posted:

I just was Quartermaster, and we kind of got screwed as far as materials: none in high demand, and it wasn't going to reset for 45 minutes. The other Quartermaster said I should just do whatever that round, and I (having just found out last game you could bulk order monkeys) asked if I should distribute monkeys randomlycharitably to different sections of the station. She said this was the best idea.

The problem was, a wave of nausea and diarrhea swept the station, and midway through explaining to a customer that his order of metal wasn't on the shuttle we both fell over and started making GBS threads ourselves. Over the radio I learned the shipping budget had gotten emergency funds for cleaning supplies, but I had barely offloaded one crate of monkeys before people showed up to find out why I was being so slow about ordering them. Thankfully, they started helping me offload the monkeys so I could send the shuttle back...

...And then giant unspeakable monsters appeared, chasing and beating me constantly. I could already barely move through the widening oceans of feces, so in desperation I opened as many monkey crates as I could to distract/feed the monsters. Immediately after, radio chatter makes it obvious that the monsters are just hallucinations.

Then the station started rotation randomly, and the monkeys attacked me. "EVERYTHING IS MONSTERS, MONKEYS, AND poo poo! HELP ME!"

Sorry guys.

Sorry about those monkeys.

atomicthumbs posted:

Here, have some context-free screenshots:

Pookum posted:

Spooky Station!

OrangeSoda posted:

I remember this round, it was incredibly fun.

People ended up accidentally teleporting into that chamber using hand teles and couldn't actually see space or anything, so they appeared to be trapped in there. The first man to enter was the chaplain, who after collapsing when evil spirits attacked him woke up in the maintenance corridors donned in cultist robes and absolutely insane.

The next person was the captain, who entered on purpose to check it out. The security team was somehow monitoring him over cameras and were seeing someone else in the room with the captain, who claimed he was the only person in the room. This other person, in a pinstripe suit and a strange mask that appeared to give him a pale face and oversized smile, waved to the guards and obviously knew they were there, which freaked them out.

After awhile, the security guards watching on the camera began to bleed some and take slight brute damage, complaining about headaches. While they weren't watching on the cameras, the captain foolishly grabbed an artifact.

All the lights blew on the station and everyone heard a tornado siren blaring, the captain freaked out, made a portal and escaped back to the station.

He left the portal open. Whatever was following him before came back with him. All hell quickly broke loose on the station

The dead rose, strange creatures began stalking the hallways and devouring the crew and the strange "smiling man' from before was roaming the dark hallways, vanishing and re-appearing at will, slaughtering the crew that weren't devoured by zombies or demons by stabbing them repeatedly with a knife. Horrible, distorted noises began blaring around the station.

The game's graphics began to also glitch up like in the screenshot, tiles started "drifting" off center and becoming glitchy and broken looking. Their names also turned to things like "Help me" and "No escape".

As if that wasn't bad enough, some crewmembers weren't handling it too well. A few of them, paranoid that the other survivors weren't who they seemed or were infected with the virus that turned the others into zombies, began killing one another. Other diseases began to infect those who the smiling man didn't kill outright and spread to the others.

I believe there was only one survivor.

Captain Bravo
Feb 16, 2011

An Emergency Shitpost
has been deployed...

...but experts warn it is
just a drop in the ocean.

Donnerberg posted:

I was one of the chefs in that Chefs vs Zombies screenshot. It all started with more than one captain arriving at the station. There were in fact closer to five captains. The captains gathered on the bridge to bask in the glory of their big, green hats. Little did they know that fate took unkindly to their hubris. The bridge was stormed by a flock of zombies. Back to back with their fellow captain, cussing up storms, they fell to the zombie horde. The station went quiet as the AI announced to the public that the captain convention had been utterly destroyed. They were now part of the undead horde.

Centcom responded to the threat by deploying clowns. Lots and lots of clowns. Honks and squeeky footsteps were heard throughout the station as the clumsy, red-nosed gentlemen went forth and died in scores to silly deaths like stumbling in areas exposed to vacuum and stumbling infront of zombies.

Next came the chefs. Lots and lots of chefs. Swedish accents broke the sadness of a captain con ruined and a clown posse decimated by Darwinism. Rolling pins in hand, they cut down the undead like lambs for the slaughter. Many a brave Swede fell that day, but among the gibs of their friends, stood a brave few and declared the station free. It was time to feast, and there was plenty to cook.

The screenshots you're referring to haven't been posted here on SA, they're over on the goonstation forums. I'll crosspost them for you!

Tteckk posted:

War... War never changes..

It stared half way through a round, everything was normal, till 4 captains joined the station. I, myself joined their ranks from a lowly position as assistant. The ID just fell out of Streloks pocket.
Soon after a meeting was held to count authentication disks, The joys soon turned sour as a horde of zombie flesh burst through the entrance. Blood was spilled, we fought for our lives well but soon became overpowered. With our deaths, Centcom sent Clowns to dispose of the mess, Plan A during such an outbreak. All they did was tumble to the ground and turned themselves. Plan B was fierce, a force that would never stumble, nor die. Or so we thought.. The first encounter left us departed with more then half of our army, the second we held firm.

Then it started..
The Bridge doors were ripped open to find at least Twenty of those things reaching for our flesh.
After a tough fight the horde died off, few were left and soon all that remained was blood and Rolling pins.
The tears of victory were sweet.

I dont know what happened after I called the shuttle, I lost connection and had re download the files.
Because BYOND.

Lunchmeat Larry
Nov 3, 2012

Is that an *expression?* Are you trying to make an expression with that face? Why?

My terrible Bellegar adventure made it into the OP! I'm so special :v:

(if anyone new is confused by it - wizard rounds end when the wizard dies, and I was disguised as Sveta, you can only give away disguises by speaking or taking your mask/helmet off. Also, farting on the Bible kills you, and the Chaplain was holding it when I killed him)

Problem Sleuth
Apr 11, 2011


Looking forward to many more years of 2d spessmens :dance:

My only shame is that I've been playing since 2010 and I haven't made my way into any historic stories. It's me, I'm the worst player.

Stoca Zola
Jun 28, 2008

Space Station 13 fan art - not mine, don't know the source, but it's been my netbook's desktop picture since I saw it in the other thread.

Stoca Zola fucked around with this message at 15:12 on May 29, 2013

Jul 20, 2007

Why don't the poors simply buy more money?

Fun Shoe

My favorite personal story:

As a geneticist you have a few unique tools at your disposal, one of which is the ability to make UI + UE injectors. Basically it is a syringe that can change your name and appearance. Useful for two things, concealing traitors and spreading grief. I started the round by sneakily getting the AI to scan me into the cloning machine, where I used discs to transfer my own UI + UE over to the machine that makes the injectors, a decision the AI would later come to regret. I label the injector 'Sex Appeal' and stuff it in my backpack.

It is a big no-no to actually inject people forcibly, however if randomly scattered around the station I cannot be held responsible for the person who injects themselves. My first destination is the bar, where I put the needle right on the main counter, and sit back sipping a beer innocuously. The first person who cruises into the bar is none other than our noble Captain. He plants himself in front of the injector for several moments, probably contemplating the risks and rewards of using a dubiously labeled DNA injector. He goes for it, injects himself, and BAM -- He becomes a genetic copy of me.

"drat Captain, looking good!" I compliment. He immediately commits suicide.

I haul his corpse back to genetics, intent to do him a solid by cloning him, but whoever it was logged off in frustration. Satisfied with my results I began mass-producing these injectors and scattering them to the four corners of the station using the Captain's ID. Sure enough more and more people begin to assume my name. Another person came into genetics and began making more Sex Appeal injectors in my absence, and was actually injecting others. Some others who retained their own name made it their mission to flush them all down disposals when then found them... though the helpful Janitor (who bore my name) simply retrieved them and spread them around the station again.

The round descended into chaos, two traitors injected themselves plus maybe around 10-15 regular crew also having my name made it very hard to identify the real trouble. A few clones were on 'my' side (our side?) yet many were resentful of their new name and formed an angry mob and administered some street justice, fortunately I'd switched clothes and ID's so the poor soul they found making injectors was not the real me, and was beaten to death. They then erased the injector data in the computer, though fortunately I kept the discs on me as a backup and the steady flow of Sex Appeal continued.

The round began to drag, so before I called the shuttle I gave the station one final gift, I used the Captian's ID to get to the AI upload and change its name to mine as well. I was job-banned for a couple weeks after that.

Willfrey fucked around with this message at 16:29 on May 29, 2013

Infinite Monkeys
Jul 18, 2010

If you think this has a happy ending, you haven't been paying attention.

Wow WOW not putting my videos in the OP huh? Rude :colbert:

semper wifi
Oct 31, 2007

bring back poo

May 2, 2007


Diplomacy between traitor types doesn't always work out.

May 25, 2012

I was banned from the game and the game forums several months ago, who can I talk to about appealing this ban?

Kernel Monsoon
Jul 18, 2006

semper wifi posted:

bring back poo

Go away, you are not funny.

Sir_Seth posted:

I was banned from the game and the game forums several months ago, who can I talk to about appealing this ban?

Updated the bottom of the OP with instructions. For some reason I hadn't added them in my half-asleep state last night.

cock hero flux
Apr 17, 2011

Supernorn posted:

Go away, you are not funny.

Poo was funny for a little while because it made people mad but then got unfunny but now that it's gone making people mad by demanding it comes back is funny.

Bringing back poo is the new poo.

Dr Cheeto
Mar 2, 2013

Wretched Harp

Dauntasa posted:

Bringing back poo is the new poo.

Until I can make a "bring back poo" smoke, it's not the new poo.

Sherd Red
Mar 23, 2012

Dr Cheeto posted:

Until I can make a "bring back poo" smoke, it's not the new poo.

There should be a chemical that makes anyone injected with it say "Bring back poo!" on repeat.

Fakeish edit: It's name should be pooa or something like that.

Apr 4, 2012

The most southern dandy robot judge

Bring back the Clown job, HONK

Dr. Cogwerks
Oct 28, 2006

all I need is a grant and Project :roboluv: is go

Holy gently caress, shut up about poo.

Kernel Monsoon
Jul 18, 2006

Yeah you're just coming across as dumb unfunny idiots, once again.

Snatch Duster
Feb 20, 2007

by FactsAreUseless

Poo was the best thing about goonstation. Sorry for the truth!

semper wifi
Oct 31, 2007

poo was funny and there was no reason for removing it

it was an integral part of the ss13 experience and the people who removed it didn't/don't even play the game anymore

Full-Bodied Flavor
Jan 8, 2011

The removal of poo turned this game into a piece of poo poo. The stench of feces is still here the only difference is now it's not funny and just bad.

Jul 4, 2007


Video Game Idol posted:

The removal of poo turned this game into a piece of poo poo. The stench of feces is still here the only difference is now it's not funny and just bad.

The removal of poo turned you into a piece of poo poo. The stench of feces is still coming from your mouth and the only difference is now it's not funny and just bad.

Get over it and go find a new thing to piss people off with. I can't believe this thread couldn't go one loving page without this being brought up again. gently caress.

Apr 8, 2010

You're going to try ponies and you're. Going. To. LOVE. ME!!

Wait, are people actually unironically mad about the removal of poo?

Mice Everywhere
Sep 7, 2007

I love animal porn! So F* you if you don't accept that!

Here's a beginner's SS13 story from the old thread. I don't remember who it came from exactly but it's one of my favorites


It started out pretty blandly. I joined late and had to be an assistant. I wandered around the corridors until I reached genetics. "Come one, come all! Everybody come on over to genetics and have your wildest dreams come true!" boomed a voice from the doorway. My curiosity was piqued, so I knocked on the glass door and asked what sort of wild dreams they would be providing, but received no answer.

Well, fine. I'll just go off and have my own wild dreams then. Screw you guys. I wandered around the station until I found a random door leading into the dark maintenance hallways that opened for me. Cautiously, I wandered in. I knew I wasn't exactly supposed to be there, but hey, why not? I turned on my PDA light and explored around until I found a crate filled with electrical tools. Cool! Now I might actually be able to do something useful.

I kept wandering around the hallways until I discovered a broken panel that lead into what I think was the HOS office. It had a terminal with security cameras, some kind of recharger, a locker, and a desk with a bottle of vodka on it. I knew that guy must need to drink on the job. After viewing the cameras for a bit, I wandered back into the passageway.

I could see a thin red line running along the floor that must indicate power going somewhere. Hmm, I wonder what this powers? What would happen if I were to cut it? I'll just use the crowbar I picked up to lift up the panel covering it a-*ZAP*

I lay unconscious for a moment until some other person passes me by and revives me. I thank them and they go on their way. Oh! that wire was live AND uncovered. Ok, that must be why I got shocked when I hit it with the crowbar. this time, I'll use the wire cutters and carefu-*ZAP*

Welp, that didn't work, either. I'm now unconscious again. Another person wanders by and revives me again. I thank them as well and decide that playing with power isn't really worth it.

I wander along some more until I come upon an unconscious person. Examining them reveals that they may, in fact, be dead. Before I can do anything about it, yet another person comes along and drags them away. Just as I'm about to ask them what's going on, a 2nd body appears in the hallway, this one entirely naked. Apparently, it came from a chute that was running along the floor. Suddenly, 3 more copies of that same body come flying out of the chute. The person comes back from dragging the first body away and informs me that the 4 people here are the results of a guy being cloned a bunch of times and killed. Ok... that seems odd... But whatever. I offer to help him move them and he declines, so I go on my way.

Very shortly after leaving that mess, I pass by a person in the passageway. The person turns around, runs up to me, then turns and runs away again. Ok, that's a bit weird but whatever... Oooohhhhh bbbooooyyyy.... I dunt felll gud... *drool* *thud*

My vision alternated between the darkness of sleep, and a weird white haze as I fade in and out of "reality". I can see myself being dragged somewhere and I desperately try to resist whatever's going on and wake myself up. I can sometimes hear another person snoring nearby. I begin to fear for my life.

Eventually though, my vision clears and I am able to stand up. I have no idea where I am or what's going on. I know I'm in a dark room on the edge of the station, and that there's a glass window looking out into space with a nice view of a couple guys in space suits doing... something out there. But something's wrong. I can't walk properly. My speech is slurred and I'm acting weirdly. Just trying to go in one direction has my feet moving randomly as if I'm pressing every direction key at once.

I try to use my radio, but find I lack the coordination to do so. One of the guys outside glides over to the window and begins tapping on it with a fire extinguisher. I try to wave, but instead, I drool, then giggle, then poo poo and pee myself a bit. I think I'm going insane. this is some weird dream, and I have no idea what to do.

Just as I regain the ability to walk right, the guy outside smashes through the glass window and into the room, evacuating all the air. I drag myself out of the room just in time to avoid suffocation, and find myself in... I think the chapel. There are 2 people in there, busily arranging food items in a meticulous pattern. There's splatters of blood and poo all over the walls. I try to calmly ask them if they know what's going on, but all I can manage to do is jabber and scream my words. I'm still farting, peeing, giggling, and falling over uncontrollably, and generally acting very strangely.

Without saying anything, the two people get up and begin moving towards me, in perfect unison. I freak out a bit and make a dash for the glass door, slamming into it face first and falling over onto the floor, like some unlucky cat in a cartoon. As I pull myself back up, the door opens and I hightail it out of there before those two creeps can get me.

I wander through the halls, attempting to get help from any of the people wandering around, all the while trailing poo poo stains and pee behind me. Eventually, I make it to medical, which in retrospect was a mistake.

I never got to see inside medical. The door would not open for me. Two men dressed in pink jumpsuits and another in a grey shirt were there. The pink guys were milling around, doing various things and the grey one was standing there, pants-less, with a literal stream of diarrhea and blood just flowing from him endlessly. One of the pink guys grabs a fire extinguisher and belts the pooing man in the head. He goes down and falls unconscious in his own feces, still making GBS threads nonstop, while the other guy just keeps bashing his head in with the fire extinguisher.

I'm screaming for anyone in medical to come and help me, but the words just won't flow properly out my mouth. It's all either slurred, or muddled together incomprehensibly. Eventually, I guess the pooing man died, because he stopped making GBS threads everything around him. The pink guy with the fire extinguisher turns to me and belts me in the head, knocking me down. I'm able to resist, get up, and disarm him of his fire extinguisher. I hit him once with it, throw it at him, and sprint as fast as I can away from medical before he can get up.

I continue down the halls, back to where it all began: Genetics. The door to genetics is open, so I wander in. There's 2 people in there, one on his back, the other standing there, both apparently brain dead. I try to give myself a dose of antitoxin to see if it will help cure me, but can't figure out how to make it work and end up hitting myself instead. I still can't use the radio right, so I figured I'd just wait till someone came in who looked like they knew what they were doing and ask for help.

Well, to my surprise, the very next person to walk in was the guy I saw in that dark room, breaking out the windows. He walks in, and the door shuts behind him. I'm now locked in here with him. Awesome. He ignores my cries for help and walks over to the window and bashes on it with a fire extinguisher. I grab whatever i could and try to stop him, but he turns around, beats me into unconsciousness, and continues his work. I recover just in time to see him break through the window and evacuate all the air from the room. Awesome. I start choking, and quickly die of asphyxiation.

Oh great. So that's how this ends. I can hear the ghosts talking now, and I'm kinda pissed. All that stuff was happening, and I'm dead because some rear end in a top hat decided he wanted a convenient doorway out into space from genetics. But what's this? He's dragging my body. Where's he taking me? My vision goes black and I get a little warning saying "cloning process initiated".

After a few minutes, I step out of the cloner, naked, with no equipment. The space man is nowhere to be seen, nor is my original body and gear. I'm still trapped in the room, which is exposed to the vacuum of space, but I'm essentially all better now. That's... an interesting turn of events.

I dash for the door and begin screaming to anyone that can hear me to open up, for the love of god, I'm gonna die in here! Luckily, someone wandered up to the door and it opened for them, which allowed me to dash to freedom, and life. Hooray! I'm alive! Again! I'm naked, tool-less, and confused, but I'm alive. And that's when I got the warning that the shuttle will be arriving soon.

I walk through the hallways, surveying the situation. Everywhere is anarchy. The walls and floors are almost completely covered in poo and blood. People are running through the halls in a panic, attacking each other. One man ran by me, stopped, quivered furiously and exploded into a shower of guts and blood. What the flying hell?! I need to get out of here!

As I walked through the halls, I come across Officer Beepsky. Surely, he/it should know what the gently caress, right? WRONG. Beepsky heads straight for me, stuns me knocks me down, and cuffs me. Before anything else can happen, a passerby drags me away, stands me up, uncuffs me, and brings me back around. I can't even type out a proper thank you before another person runs up to me, pushes me down, and tries to cuff me as well. I'm able to resist and get up, and the helpful stranger starts shouting "RUN" while leading me down the hallway.

Well, run I did. I ran like the wind all the way back, past genetics, past the medical area, which was nothing but poo, gibs, and battered, blood soaked bodies, and all the way up to arrivals. I figure that if I can get to the shuttle, I'll be safe. I can hide in the crowd, run around in there, whatever needs to be done. I just have to get to the shuttle.

I ran straight for the shuttle airlock with the guy who tried to cuff me right on my heels. Just keep running until you get there. You'll be safe on the shuttle. Just as I ran up to the airlock, I experienced a bit of lag. I think someone set off a bomb of some kind, because there was this tremendous sound and a flash of light. the very next thing I could see was me, floating out in space, since I apparently ran out the airlock when the shuttle hadn't even arrived yet.

There was a moment of panic there. My mind went through all the different ways I could try to get back. But I was naked, and couldn't even bring myself to poo, in the hopes of throwing it and hoping to glide back. Then a steady peace washed over me as my skin began to freeze and my blood boiled. There was no turning back. No way to survive. Ah well. Better out here than at the end of some rear end in a top hat's stun baton, I suppose. I died just as I closed out the window.

semper wifi
Oct 31, 2007

neogeo0823 posted:

The removal of poo turned you into a piece of poo poo. The stench of feces is still coming from your mouth and the only difference is now it's not funny and just bad.

Get over it and go find a new thing to piss people off with. I can't believe this thread couldn't go one loving page without this being brought up again. gently caress.

look at this man, reduced to angry shitposting by the mere threat of poo

with griefing powers like this how can u not bring poo back??



Jul 20, 2007

Why don't the poors simply buy more money?

Fun Shoe

All you need to do is click the 'rap sheet' button to see the kind of sterling people who have taken a stand for poo.

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