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  • Locked thread
ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

THUNDERDOME
LOSER


In

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ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

THUNDERDOME
LOSER


In with "Astor Man Told Deputies He is Creator, Owns World"

And to make sure my lazy rear end actually enters something.

(USER WAS BANNED FOR THIS POST)

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

THUNDERDOME
LOSER


In.

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

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LOSER


Wow, TDome's gotten even dumber after I left.

There's really only one way to fix this.

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

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This thread sucks and I hope you all die in a fiery explosion.

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

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Titus82 posted:

This is such obvious bullshit, you are clearly picking the people you like and putting them up against the chumps first.

Look at that list! Spectres is going to crush Maugrim. CKM has no chance. Saddest Rhino is gonna be given yet another reason to be sad. Twist? Holy gently caress, it isn't even funny that Boogie is pitted against him. Mojo owns Newt. Entenzahn and Oxxi are, well, okay they are well matched (cause they both such so much), DocK has got this one in the bag, and Curlingiron is gonna own whoev- oh. Um...

Well gently caress me and call me a dandy.

Clearly I was going to say that CI is about to get owned by moi.

So, yeah... What was I saying? poo poo, I forgot.

r u ok?

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

THUNDERDOME
LOSER


The Emperor
Words: 996

The invasion started with the destruction of entire military bases, and ended with Reptilian footsoldiers patrolling every major city on Earth. All forms of resistance were met with bloody retaliation. The Reptilians were fond of displaying the butchered carcasses of those they slaughtered in public places, often hanging them from windows by a wire fastened around their ankles.

It didn’t take long for the governments of the world to draft up a treaty.

I stood next to a few other high ranking military officials, waiting for the Emperor of the Reptilians to arrive in Washington DC. A strobing light appeared on the horizon, and as it grew closer it transformed from a silver dot into a metallic disk. Dozens of leg-like appendages sprouted from the craft’s underbelly. People stood back, and a great whistling sounded from the thing as it landed. A slit formed in a section of the ship’s hull, which widened to form a passageway.

From this opening emerged several Reptilians. Each one stood about six feet tall, and they wore nothing. Thankfully they possessed no exposed genitalia, or nipples. Their scaled bodies glistened in the sunlight, which helped showcase their well sculpted, humanoid physiques. Behind them slithered the new Emperor of the World himself. He wore a thin, violet gown and had legs that were like twigs which wobbled beneath his scrawny frame. One of the naked Reptilians helped him climb up to the podium.

The Emperor stood before the speechless crowd and cleared his throat in a loud, exaggerated manner. Then, in a shrill voice, he spoke.

“Greetings, Homo Sapiens! I am Mellamus the Fourth, but you shall know me as the Emperor of Your World. Your kind is in good hands, for I am the Emperor of countless worlds. Under my benevolent eye you shall have no wants, as I strive to treat the peoples I conquer well.”

In contrast to the crimson red of his soldier’s eyes, the Emperor’s eyes were a deep blue, and as I stared into them I found my eyelids drooping while a wave of relaxation washed over me. The Emperor spoke for over an hour, but I scarcely remember a word he said save for those initial pleasantries.

The Emperor finished his speech and returned to his craft. I tried to make my way back to my car, but before I could get even get out of the crowd a Reptilian gripped my shoulder in a cold vise. His face resembled a cross between a human’s and a crocodile’s, and he wore glittery, lavender robes. I wanted to excuse myself, but I thought twice when he flashed me a smile filled with perfectly white, razor sharp teeth.

“Come with me. The Emperor would like your audience,” he said in a baritone voice.

I, along with several other military officials, were escorted to the Emperor’s craft. We were all seasoned men who’d experienced combat firsthand, but these brutal and enigmatic creatures had us feeling more than a little gunshy. As we walked I could see in the other men’s eyes that they were afraid. I was afraid too.

The first thing I noticed upon entering the craft was that it stank like stale piss. My eyes stung from the stench, and squinting only helped so much. The Emperor himself stood at the end of a bare, metallic table. The whole ship had a utilitarian style to it, with minimal decorations save for a set of six purple cloths hanging from the ceiling. Dozens of man sized holes lined the walls, and I assumed that they were the origin of the stench.

“Please, have a seat,” said the Emperor.

We did as we were told.

“Gentlemen, you are some of the highest ranking officials in the US government, is that correct?”

We nodded.

“And you’re all quite strong and muscular, aren’t you?”

We just stared him. His odd question lingered in the air and we exchanged nervous glances.

“Don’t be shy gentlemen. I can tell just from a casual glance that you possess impressive physiques.”

Maxwell, the United State’s Secretary of Defense and a man noted for having balls of steel, spoke.

“What are you talking about?”

The Emperor smiled.

“For centuries our species has been conquering worlds, and in all those years we’ve never come across a species quite as beautiful as yours.”

The Emperor walked around the table before coming up behind me. He laid his cold, bony hand on mine.

“Your species has such soft, warm skin.”

He gently brushed his scaly hand on my cheek.

“And such handsome faces. Why, our ancestors could only dream of such biological masterpieces.”

The Emperor walked back to the head of the table.

“Congratulations gentlemen, for I am giving you all to my daughter as a gift.”

A collective ‘What?” echoed through the chamber.

“You’re brilliant leaders, battle hardened and beautiful. You’ll make perfect husbands.”

I tried to sit up, but the Emperor cast his gaze around the room. I found myself paralyzed in my seat, and I tried to scream. All that came out was mindless laughter. The others didn’t fare any better as the room filled with forced chuckles.

A much longer, more serpentine Reptilian slithered into the room from one of the openings that lined the walls of the craft. It grinned when it saw us. The Emperor turned to it and the two started talking in a strange tongue comprised mostly of hisses and groans. They soon turned their attention back to us, and they both stared at us with eyes that glittered like sapphires in the sun.

“External genitalia, how exotic,” the serpentine Reptilian said.

“Gentlemen, I’m pleased to introduce you to my daughter Mallie. Isn’t she lovely?”

Mallie slithered over to Maxwell and flicked her tongue up and down his body. Tears ran down Maxwell’s face while he cackled like a lunatic.

“I love them father!”

Our new ‘wife’ coiled around Maxwell as the ship took off to God knows where.

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

THUNDERDOME
LOSER


In for Tuesday, bitches.

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

THUNDERDOME
LOSER


Prompt: Man Agonizes over Taters (Tuesday Edition)
Word Used: Zaftig

Steak and Baked Potatoes
Words: 917

I leaned back in my chair and Tom lit himself a cigar. A revolver laid on the table, and in the cabin’s dim light it gleamed like a cursed jewel. Grabbing the bottle of vodka I’d brought, I poured myself a shot.

“Mind sharing?” Tom asked.

“Only if you got another cigar.”

Tom reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a robusto with a dark, oily wrapper. I poured him a shot and traded it to him for the stick. Tom chugged the vodka and immediately went back to staring at his wristwatch with a grim expression on his face. Wisps of white smoke escaped from between his lips as he watched the hands creep closer to midnight.

“So, what’d you do before coming here?” I asked.

Tom shrugged, not taking his eyes off his watch.

“Well, I had a nice steak with baked potatoes for dinner. Bonnie cooks em up medium rare, just the way I like. What’d you have for dinner, Mel?”

“I wasn’t too hungry, so I just made a ham sandwich.”

“Yeah, I didn’t have too much of an appetite myself, but Bonnie loves to see me eat.”

Tom looked up from his watch and forced a smile.

“I feel you. Claire seemed a little worried, but I just told her that I wasn’t hungry,” I said.

“Hey, Mel, you still haven’t lit your cigar. Need a light?”

I reached into my pocket and grabbed at bare cloth.

“Don’t worry about it. I don't really have time to enjoy it anyway.”

Tom nodded. I took another shot of vodka, trying to numb myself. I could feel the people watching and waiting from outside the cabin window. The clock hit midnight.

“Alright,” I said, “let’s play.”

I stole a peek out the window. Even in the darkness their silhouettes stood out from the surrounding night. There were hundreds of them. Some were so close that you could almost see their pale eyes staring out at you. Others hid among the trees and the bushes. The rest sat in the comfort of their homes, watching live from their internet browsers.

I pictured Claire’s zaftig figure standing in our doorway. Considering the time, she was probably already cuddled up in bed. I wanted to curse myself for not telling her about my ‘game’ with Tom, but I decided that it was for the best. She deserved the bliss of ignorance.

Tom handed me the gun and I didn’t hesitate sticking it in my mouth. Muffled but excited whispers accompanied my pulling of the trigger.

Click.

I looked back at Tom, his face expressionless. He took a long draw on his cigar and exhaled a thick plume of smoke before grabbing the revolver. I looked away.

Click.

Tom traded the revolver back to me. I stuck it in my mouth again and pulled the trigger.

Click.

As I handed the gun back to Tom, I couldn’t help but notice the look in his eye. Somehow I knew that he was praying, and I knew he wasn’t praying for himself, either. I gritted my teeth as the fear drained out of me. Tom placed the gun on his temple and shut his eyes tight.

Click.

Once again Tom gave me the gun, but this time I took it with a smile.

I handled the revolver for a moment, turning it over and inspecting every inch of its blued steel form. The revolver had been our enemy for the entire evening, but it didn’t have to be. I pointed the gun at the silhouette standing closest to the window and fired.

Bang.

A deafening ring filled the cabin, but I still got to see the bastard collapse like the rotten sack of poo poo he was.

We immediately ducked under the table as bullets hailed down upon us. My bottle of vodka fell to the floor with a clang. I looked at Tom to see him on the verge of tears. He didn’t even notice me ripping a strand of cloth from my shirt with my teeth. I didn’t bother to ask for Tom’s permission when I dove into his pocket and pulled out his lighter.

The deviants who put us in this hell temporarily ceased their fire, and in that moment I dove for the bottle. I corked it with my ripped sleeve and lit it up. Summoning all the strength in my right arm, I tossed my makeshift molotov out the window and towards the bushes and trees. Screams filled the night and I could hear panicked footsteps retreating.

Tom bolted up and ran for the door. I winced at the sound of a single gunshot. He slumped over and the gunfire ceased. The way Tom’s corpse fell left it staring right at me. I tried to look away, but something about that vacant, wide-eyed expression glued my eyes in place. I hid under that table until morning, and I could only watch as Tom’s face greyed and bloated into a caricature of its former self. Even when the sun peeked over the hillside, I didn’t dare stand. I crawled out of the cabin, and I crawled along the forest’s leaf covered floor until I found a trail.

I sprinted the rest of the way home.

I’ve stocked up on guns. I still get harassing phone calls and emails, but I do my best to ignore it. Claire’s put a nice big plate of steak and baked potatoes in front of me, but I can’t eat it.

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

THUNDERDOME
LOSER


I did a stupid reading of Merc's excellent, anime-inspired potato story.

http://vocaroo.com/i/s03X3maRg64K

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

THUNDERDOME
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In.

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

THUNDERDOME
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Thank you all for the crits on my terrible story for potato week!

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

THUNDERDOME
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Chili posted:

If I had any clout whatsoever I'd call someone something and challenge them to do a thing against my thing.

You sound like a real rear end in a top hat. "If I had any clout."

Pfft.

If you have any balls, fight me.

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

THUNDERDOME
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Chili posted:

Sweet. This place is magical.

It certainly is. May the best man win.

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

THUNDERDOME
LOSER


I'm Tired and Busy but Don't Want a Ban
Words: 543

He stood at the cathedral doors with armor that glistened like crystal. I acknowledge him by playing another round on the organ, something suitably dark and melancholic. He took another step into my domain and I hopped off the podium.

I clasp my hands together and smile at my guest.

“Ah, another one of Kramer’s brave men.”

He said nothing, opting instead to charge at me. I pulled out my taloned middle finger and stabbed him in the gut. His steel plated armor stopped my attack short of his vitals, and I chipped a nail.

“Oh bother,” I said, “this will take weeks to grow back fully.”

The knight turned and charged me again. I grabbed him by the throat and hoisted him into the air. The anger in his eyes gave way to terror as I clinched his trachea. The meat in his throat was so tender, so easily manipulated. A little more pressure and his eyes dulled. A clang accompanied his body hitting the floor.

There’d be more. Kramer always sent more.

Another posse of Kramer’s men were in town yesterday. The inn’s wine cellar had been cleaned out on the full credit of the of-so noble King Kramer. Still, a wine shortage wasn’t anything new. Shards from smashed wine bottles were strewn about the town, having landed wherever the knight’s decided to discard them. Another, more disturbing development was the vanishment of some of the town’s prettier girls, the innkeeper’s daughter amongst them.

The sun sank behind the cathedral. My fingers flew across my organ’s keyboard. The halls filled with a somber melody of my own composition. It was a Bach inspired piece in d-minor, superficially similar to his Toccata and Fugue. The organ sang for me like an obedient servant, and her music welcomed my newest guests.

There were five of them, and they all sported Kramer’s crimson insignia. They wasted no time in charging my podium. I leapt about seven feet into the air and landed behind my attackers. Before they could react, I charged them myself. I rammed into a rather tall young man, knocking him several feet forward. The others converged on me, and soon a blade sunk into my shoulder.

Thick, cool liquid ran down my shoulder. I shuddered as tiny, tentacle-like appendages erupted from the wound. I really didn’t feel like going through this, but I should’ve expected it with the number of knight’s in town.

My almost perfectly human form ripped itself apart. Tentacles slithered from my nostrils and mouth. Icy cold ichor bled from my pores, and the knights took a step back.
I smiled.

“Well now, this is interesting.”

There wasn’t much left of the knights when the innkeeper stepped into the cathedral. He and a few other men came bearing offerings. The burly man placed a basket of food and wine near the collection box. I didn’t turn from my organ when he thanked me for getting rid of the knights.

“I found my daugher,” he said.

I didn’t say anything.

“She escaped from the knight’s caravan. I really must thank you.”

I placed my talon underneath his chin and lifted his gaze up to mine.

“It was a pleasure, sir. I’d do it for free.”

He nodded, and skedaddled.

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

THUNDERDOME
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CANNIBAL GIRLS posted:

Sounds good.

A TIME TRAVELER wants THE WORLD'S BEST "DEATH ROW DINNER"

I'm in and taking this.

A GIANT SPIDER wants to MEET THEIR FAVORITE BOYBAND

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

THUNDERDOME
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Preemptively in.

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

THUNDERDOME
LOSER


In.

Ohio. Ohio never changes. Or does it?

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

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Mom says I need gainful employment or it's the streets. I'm in as an employee.

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

THUNDERDOME
LOSER


A Completely Standard Furnace Repair Job
Words: 1049

Before me stood the border that protects the well-lit, consumerist Eden of Voidmart's main floor from the filthy underbelly known only to the most elite and select of associates. That border took the form of an unassuming plywood door. A small black plaque was bolted onto it, and In golden caps it read “MAINTENANCE.”

I checked my flanks and, after finding the halls appropriately empty, gave myself a mental all-clear. My body tensed. I pushed against the door and it groaned in protest before coming ajar. As soon as it did I covered my nose. From the bowls of Voidmart rose a stank that was like the long forgotten fart of some blasphemous deity.

I pushed again. The door burst open.

Rays of light pierced into the dust-filled atmosphere that awaited me. I stepped onto the black granite that comprised the first step in the stairwell and began my journey towards the furnace. The door to the surface slammed shut, and the accompanied banging noise rang throughout the stairwell for a second or two before fading into oblivion. For a few moments I walked in a silence so complete I could faintly hear the blood running through my veins. However, they noticed me soon enough.

Voidbugs.

They were about the size of shooter marbles, and they were fast. Wings buzzed in agitated excitement as they darted past my head. A few would deliberately land on me and crawl upon any exposed flesh with tickling legs. I either ignored them or brushed them off.

The Voidbugs slowly grew more numerous before suddenly dispersing. After more than a minute of descent I'd reached the furnace room. Standing before me and my destination was one last door.

Most people wouldn't have opened that door if they knew what waited ahead.

Most people aren't promoted to the maintenance department.

The door silently slid open when I touched it, almost as if it were more of a formality than a proper barrier. The room beyond was drenched in an orange-red glow. Bands of gnarled metal that'd been twisted into non-Euclidean fractals snaked out from openings in the ceiling and converged into a glowing sphere at the center of the room.

It made a nice place to eat lunch.

The sphere served as Voidmart's furnace. Refuse and expired stock from every department of the store was to be melted down and piped into it. There'd been reports that some of the fractal pipes that fed the beast were leaking, and that's why I was down there.

A complex and sprawling catwalk hung high overhead. Bars of metal jutted out from every wall to serve as the catwalk's access ladders. I checked my utility belt to make sure it was strapped on tight.

The alternating sounds of laughter and crying erupted from some unseen corner of the room. I furrowed my brow and pulled my Voidmart exclusive 'David' Bowie knife (signed by the ghost of David Bowie himself!)

A dozen lanky, vaguely humanoid abominations shambled towards me. Their heads were like a drunken god's idea of a skull, and their ape-like jaws hung agape. Their eyes were bulging black disks, and their 'skin,' what little they had, was more akin to heavy burlap than anything you'd see on an earthly animal.

I back peddled towards the nearest wall. They were extremely slow, but their heavy and well-defined musculature told me they wouldn't be weak. I bumped into one of the many pieces of steel jutting from the wall. My brain hadn't even fully registered what was happening when I found myself racing towards the catwalk.

It's quite remarkable how quickly I climbed all the way up. The moment I reached semi-solid ground I flopped down onto it. My lungs screamed in burning agony while the rest of my body lay numb. After a minute or ten of wishing for death, I pulled myself into something resembling a standing position. There I was, trembling and terrified of these furnace-dwellers. The pride I'd gained from becoming a part of Voidmart's Elite Maintenance Team wilted.

A true maintenance man didn't fear anything.

I looked over the railing to see a small gathering of furnace-dwellers. I realized that, despite having visited the furnace several dozen times, I'd never once seen those things. What the hell were they?

The beasts turned their attention away from ladders I'd just climbed. They made their way towards the furnace itself. I counted thirteen of them, with each pretty similar in size. They encircled the furnace and began swaying around it. Their bodies jerked and grooved to some unheard music and I almost giggled. They were furnace worshipers.

I'd heard passing whispers concerning the furnace worshipers. They'd escaped from some other department, either pets or meats, and they'd formed a religion centering around the furnace. My nerves were still on edge, but I could function rationally now. The beings danced around their furnace while I looked for damage to the pipes.

I noticed one of the pipes had sustained pretty severe damage. It looked like someone or something had tried to break a piece of the fractal off. A black syrup that smelled like manure leaked from the opening. I grabbed a hand-held wielder from my belt and began sealing the damage. The metal softened and morphed into a swirling fractal cone.

Something shook the catwalk, hard. I turned around and saw that two furnace worshipers had scaled the wall and were now walking about the catwalk. I wasn't scared this time.

I was pissed.

I pulled my 'David' Bowie knife and made a death-run for the closest of the gruesome twosome. I sunk my Voidmart Satisfaction Guaranteed-steel into the creature's shoulder. It made a noise halfway between a cackle and a roar. I twisted the knife and ripped it back out. The creature gave me a stunned look. I dug the blade into it again, this time aiming for its forehead. There was a wet smack, and the furnace worshiper went limp.

The other furnace worshiper leaped from the catwalk. I struggled to catch my breath. I put my knife back in my belt and inspected the other pipes. There wasn't anymore damage. The other furnace worshipers had fled by the time I got back down. I smiled.

Don't gently caress with the Maintenance Department.

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

THUNDERDOME
LOSER


Sitting Here posted:

This one time, limited offer submission opportunity is over

I still need a 3rd judge.

Three's a crowd. Duo Judging Good Judging.

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

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flerp posted:

ill judge ur face

its bad

This guy knows what's up.

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

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flerp posted:

interprompt

a very slow and bad judge(s)

150 words

there were some very slow and very bad judges

they got shot

there was much rejoicing

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

THUNDERDOME
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That word count scares me.

In...

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

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newtestleper posted:

Thanks to Grizzled Patriarch and sparksbloom for volunteering to judge this week. We will try to be the fastest and goodest judges around.

Domespeed, brother.

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

THUNDERDOME
LOSER


Something Innate
Words: 250

Father’s weekly berating voicemail hissed from the phone. The cheap speakers gave his voice an unpleasant tininess, but it was the belittlement in his tone that made me put the phone down.

My head pounded. I needed clean air.

When I stepped onto the patio, I noticed a hatchling chick sprawled helpless beneath a tree. Its slowing chirps stung my heart, and when I could not bare the display any longer, I went back inside and looked for something to help it with. I found an empty shoebox in my closet. Lying next to it was a tiny pink blanket, soft and fleecy. I took that as well.

I bent down to the hatchling’s level, cooing as gently as a motherbird. It squirmed and spazzed its lumpy wings when I placed it on the blanket. I swaddled the cloth around the chick, forming a loose, protective bundle. Its frantic chirps calmed as I laid it in the box.

The internet helped me care for the hatchling. Within weeks he’d sprouted feathers, and soon he explored with the curiosity of a toddler. He’d often seek out tall objects and dive from them. His wings would madly flap as he plummeted to the floor. I couldn’t help but smile.

One day, though, he got the hang of it. He flew about the room, desperately seeking something innate. I looked at the window and, with great hesitation, opened it.

After he flew away, I looked back at my phone and saw another voicemail.

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

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Proof of my stunning bravery in submitting to an online publisher!

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

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Hammer Bro. posted:

The Feast (250 words)

At first I had no idea wtf this was about until somebody in IRC pointed it out.

I hate you so much.

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

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Crab Destroyer posted:

I have some short crits for everybody who got a DM or a loss in week 220. If anybody else who posted in week 220 wants a crit, feel free to ask.

Could I get me one of them critiques you so generously handing out big fella? I'd sure appreciate it.

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

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ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

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anime was right posted:

not sure what this means, could someone spell it out for me?



Is that clear?

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

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Where are you flerp?!

Deliver us from promptlessness!

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

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Yeah sure in.

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

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Hey guys, this week seems like a good one to share this little game I came up with. Feel free to use it for inspiration.

All right, I've been sharing a few of these in IRC, but you really need to try it for yourself to get the full experience.

Go to a Markov Chain generator site (I use this one)

Once you find a suitable site, copy in the text I affectionately call 'The Block'. For maximum fun, set the chain length to 1. You can use any text you want, but The Block is composed of the 'best' Classic stories TD has to offer, and it produces some awe-inspiring results. For instance:

quote:

I might have to the Dew. He’d have one finger; I had control, he'd expected the dreaded loss in control.

Violet was on the sea of beating her mother had to make it back room was wind.

It was angry with a decent rim and the testicles slowly drained from the district calls it, that your face, I yelled.

quote:

cannot leave, we took a stranger unless absolutely have found a twenty seven at once he went, passing branching halls and nostrils. Mort alone with white bodies, men, I can tell by herself,* as long before the slick with a job and Invader Zim paraphernalia stabbing him and we were very satisfied. The door and all of chewing gum--strawberry flavored--pressed against his voice rose. "And what better than to be able to officially inform you need to go over Rama, as they were almost caught the darkness.

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

THUNDERDOME
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Flash: Character Needs to Learn When to Shut Their Mouth
Song: Some Shovel Knights Thing

Creative Disobedience
Words: 635

John was a coworker of mine who’d fallen victim to ‘reductions in human resources,’ effectively booting him out of his pricey hillside home. On John's last day, he invited everyone in our department to scavenge his garage and take whatever we'd liked, free of charge.


The garage was mostly filled with old furniture, but a jar sitting on a bar table managed to catch my interest. Spun from a glittery black clay and painted with a shiny lacquer, it stood out from the otherwise mundane clutter. I called over to John.


“Hey, John, I actually found something I like in all of your junk!”


I held up the jar. John looked over and stared at me with this odd expression.


“I’d really hate to part with that, Nathan. Would you mind finding something else?” John asked.


“I don’t know, Johnny boy. This is an awfully nice piece. Would be perfect for my living room.”


I didn’t care that much about the jar, but John promising us anything for free and recanting irked me.


“Nathan, please, I have a lot more pottery. In fact, I’ve got this lovely vase somewhere that I’m sure you’ll like much better.”


I turned the jar over in my hand.


“What’s so special about this thing anyway, Johnny boy?”


“It was my grandmother’s. Now put it back and find something else.”


John grit his teeth.


“Fine,” I said.


I wandered around the garage, unable to find that vase John promised. I looked back at the jar. John needed to repay my wasted gas with something. While he was busy talking to some other guy, I snuck the jar under my jacket and slipped out.


“I never liked that ol’ Johnny boy anyway,” I thought.


***


I put the jar on my coffee table and plopped down in front of the tube. Some stupid sitcom played and I zoned out.


The picture on the television screen smeared together, almost as if I had tears in my eyes. I rubbed my face, yet when I looked back at the TV the image had only become more distorted. Then I noticed it wasn’t just the boobtube.


I scanned the room. It’s hard to described, but everything looked runny, and faded. I glanced at the jar and found its glittering form unaffected.


“What the hel-”


A streak of a syrupy fluid dribbled down my chin, cutting my words short. The back part of my mind could tell what it was, but the frontend of my brain refused to accept it. I touched my hand to my face and gently pulled back. A string of upper lip clung to my fingers.


I sprang up. Bits of flesh flew from my body, but they didn’t behave how one would expect melting flesh to behave. They maintained their pale color, like I was nothing but pasty white skin to the core.


An off-white hunk of slime that had been part of the ceiling slammed into the carpet, splashing me with motley colored splotches. I sprinted for the door as my house and person dissolved. I smacked my fist against a dripping brown frame and cried in horror when my hand snapped from my wrist.


I slumped down. Out of the corner of my eye was the vase, its form pristine. I’d abandoned the living room, but the vase was still there to taunt me.


“You did…”


***


John daubed his turpentine-soaked sponge against what remained of Nathan’s frightened expression. The once masterfully crafted still-life had been reduced to an abstract smear of oil paints. John smirked. Disobedient little paintings were worth neither his time nor talent.


Nathan’s pupils were still darting around his ruined world when John blotted the last of his being out. John swirled his brush clean in a black jar before taking out another canvas to try again.

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

THUNDERDOME
LOSER


Sitting Here posted:

WTF Thunderdome formatting



Also, friendly note, gdocs keeps doing this stupid thing where, if you copy+paste your story from there into SA directly, it'll randomly add an extra space between your line breaks. Both SH and I have experienced this and it seems to happen whenever google feels like loving with somebody, so watch out for it.

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

THUNDERDOME
LOSER


Dear Dome,

I'm in

Yours truly,

ZeB

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

THUNDERDOME
LOSER


llamaguccii posted:

In (Please give me a creature)

I don't know how to make the TOXX tag, but I'm TOXXing myself for not submitting last week.

: toxx : without spaces between the letters and the :

ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

THUNDERDOME
LOSER


You know, I was gonna go in this week, but all the centuries I'd like have been taken.

I'm not writing about this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8lTJUhTA3Ok

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ZeBourgeoisie
Aug 8, 2013

THUNDERDOME
LOSER


Okua posted:

Okay sorry, sorry I'm here.
Prompt will go up in a couple hours once I've thought of something. ::

I oughta ring your neck.

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