mister magpie posted:

https://soundcloud.com/jetaimeabelard/seinwave

Hogge Wild posted:

and here's great art by our own matoi:

mister magpie posted:

Get in the robot, Jerry!

Commie NedFlanders posted:

Commie NedFlanders posted:

Jerry: I thought that new promotion was supposed to be a lot more work
George: Yeah when the season starts, right now I just sit around pretending that i'm busy.
Jerry: How do you pull that off?
George: I always


*laughs*

George: Yeah, when you
all the time people think that you're busy. think about it:

Elaine: Yeah you do! He looks very busy!

joke_explainer posted:

Another neon night at the Laughhaus. I'm backstage. I can hear them giggling like mad already, drowning out the occasional sobs from burnouts hitting a low mood swing. Every last one chipped to their goddamn gills. They'd laugh their guts out at a eulogy. I head out on stage, the enormous dilated pupils of the hyper-aware, overclocked audience tracking my every step like a sniper turret in an exclusion zone. Already the belly laughs are breaking out, but they don't lose their focus. Tapping the old-timey microphone, I say halfheartedly "What's the deal with a suborbital transit food". The audience erupts in inhuman laughter, near seizures of insane joy as the stimsense amps their humor perception up, maybe three or four times for the newbies but the die-hards and the burnouts no doubt have it overclocked to the hardware maximum, thousands of times what a brain can safely handle. I spot more than one nosebleed despite the bright lights. I'm killing up here.

INT. JERRY'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

A POLICE DRONE GUNSHIP flies by outside, casting bright lights through the slats in the Jerry's automated blinds. JERRY smokes a cigarette quietly, eyeing the drone window as the lights fade, while sipping on a tumbler full of some cheap soy vodka.

A bright HOLOGRAM OF KRAMER steps through the front door. JERRY draws his oversized revolver before relaxing.

JERRY

What's the deal with the light show? You too lazy to walk over here to bother me now?

KRAMER is oddly silent and still for a moment. He stares forward before beginning to speak.

KRAMER

Jerry! If you're seeing this, I'm dead, or worse. Got in a real bad situation Jerry. Real bad. Had a line on a job, a real easy one, should have been a real foolproof plan Jerry, but obviously something went wrong. There was a zeroday exploit on an out of date biometric in a sensebank facility, we were going to walk away with terabytes of the stuff Jer. Only reason I made this recording is that I think I got double crossed, and to warn you. I left a copy of the mission plan in a dead drop under at Monk's. I'd get out of the building for a bit just in case they send a strike team in. Hopefully I'm not already too late.

THE HOLOGRAM disperses.

JERRY

Son of a bitch...

JERRY grabs his gear and heads for the elevator, popping off a few messages to GEORGE and ELAINE. He sighs -- going to be a long night.

corn in the bible posted:

George had told me Elaine was special. No termination date. I didn't know how long we had together... Who does?

joke_explainer posted:

ELAINE walks into the sweeping conference room as an owl swoops by overhead.

ELAINE: Do you like our owl?

JERRY: Ehh.

ELAINE, confused: Really? Why, what's wrong with it?

JERRY: Just an owl. Not exactly the most majestic of birds.

ELAINE: Great horned owls... most owl species, are extinct. For over a decade now. A replication like that is incredibly impressive.

JERRY, laying out the Voight-Kampff machine: Could be a falcon or something. Just something with a little more, you know, pizzazz.

ELAINE sighs exasperatedly.

joke_explainer posted:

Another neon night at the Laughhaus. I'm backstage. I can hear them giggling like mad already, drowning out the occasional sobs from burnouts hitting a low mood swing. Every last one chipped to their goddamn gills. They'd laugh their guts out at a eulogy. I head out on stage, the enormous dilated pupils of the hyper-aware, overclocked audience tracking my every step like a sniper turret in an exclusion zone. Already the belly laughs are breaking out, but they don't lose their focus. Tapping the old-timey microphone, I say halfheartedly "What's the deal with a suborbital transit food". The audience erupts in inhuman laughter, near seizures of insane joy as the stimsense amps their humor perception up, maybe three or four times for the newbies but the die-hards and the burnouts no doubt have it overclocked to the hardware maximum, thousands of times what a brain can safely handle. I spot more than one nosebleed despite the bright lights. I'm killing up here.

INT. JERRY'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

A POLICE DRONE GUNSHIP flies by outside, casting bright lights through the slats in the Jerry's automated blinds. JERRY smokes a cigarette quietly, eyeing the drone window as the lights fade, while sipping on a tumbler full of some cheap soy vodka.

A bright HOLOGRAM OF KRAMER steps through the front door. JERRY draws his oversized revolver before relaxing.

JERRY

What's the deal with the light show? You too lazy to walk over here to bother me now?

KRAMER is oddly silent and still for a moment. He stares forward before beginning to speak.

KRAMER

Jerry! If you're seeing this, I'm dead, or worse. Got in a real bad situation Jerry. Real bad. Had a line on a job, a real easy one, should have been a real foolproof plan Jerry, but obviously something went wrong. There was a zeroday exploit on an out of date biometric in a sensebank facility, we were going to walk away with terabytes of the stuff Jer. Only reason I made this recording is that I think I got double crossed, and to warn you. I left a copy of the mission plan in a dead drop under at Monk's. I'd get out of the building for a bit just in case they send a strike team in. Hopefully I'm not already too late.

THE HOLOGRAM disperses.

JERRY

Son of a bitch...

JERRY grabs his gear and heads for the elevator, popping off a few messages to GEORGE and ELAINE. He sighs -- going to be a long night.