“I’m a stupid fatty and I love to play with my Easy Bake oven.â€
--------MEANWHILE--------
Stuff happened. I'm not sure what kinds of stuff, or even if it can be classified as stuff, but it happened. Whatever it is.
--------MEANWHILE--------
Steve: Ok, I need more plot devices. My writing is a bit out of whack right now. Any ideas?
WILL STEVE GET ANY IDEAS?
Find out next time, because I'm sick of typing HTML tags!
~I.S.~
Edited by - Insane Steve on 9/7/2004 8:04:42 PM
Narrator: Ah,
ahem. *begins story* The dimly-lit cavern existed far,
far underground, where no mortal could ever reach! At least,
not without drilling for a few years. Boo
consisted of twisted wooden structures that slightly resembled what you might
see in a city. Cafes, houses, and some company buildings, or “scaring unions,†you
might say. Primarily, this city of contained cafes. They were everywhere,
run by Boos who traded foul drinks and rotting carcasses for things of value to
Boos; gold, precious jewels, and even mortal-made paintings, which Boos kept in
their private or shared “houses.†Boos preferred to live in rundown buildings
up on the surface. But our story takes us to the heart of this cold metropolis,
where an adventure is brewing…
Boodle: *burp*
I love Ninjis. Flattened Ninjis,
straight from the
Boopert:1'> Yup. And nothing tops off Ninjicakes
like grassoil. Hic! I do declare,
we raise the price of grassoil every month! Ha-HIC!
Hiccup!
Boolin:1'> I’ll—HIC! Drink to that.
Vordoon:1'> Fellows, we’ve been sitting here for days, wasting our
stolen gold on foodthings that we don’t even need. It’s,
ahh… *looks at stolen watch* 10, uh…
some nightwalkers!
Boopert:1'> Bah, alright. Wait! Something’s not right!
Boolin:1'>
Vordoon:1'> DON’T SAY IT!
Boolin:1'> What, it’s too structured?
Narrator: And with
that, the story crumbled apart into pure dialogue elsewhere.
Announcer: WILL THE
STORY RETURN? NO, NO IT WON’T.
RETURN?
WILL
IT ALL WORK?
Edited by - Suffix on 1/5/2005 10:07:24 AM
Edited by - Suffix on 1/20/2005 8:04:05 PM
Narrator:
Mr.
Harry doing today?
Billy:
appears*
Harry:
Billy:
over there?
Harry:
you.
Mr.
how intricate these patterns are! It would take centuries to make even a mold
for this!
Billy:
it’s all pretty and shiny.
Harry:
remember how to operate one of these. I think that we must-
Billy:
Mr.
matter with you, huh? You’ve interrupted this guy 18 times today, all at
important points.
Billy:
Mr.
the door get to?
Harry:
month!
WILL “HARRYâ€
GET ANOTHER CHANCE?
WILL HE UNRAVEL
THE MYSTERY?
WILL WE BE
BACK, AFTER THESE MESSAGES?
Dr.
idiotically* Now, we cuhn wule
duh wuhld!
Dr.
eembeceele! Eet
of higher vareeable eequasions.
Beeyond zee quadratieecs!
Dr.
Operator:
Dr.
his voice* It iss a mahsterful
program that solves polynomials quickly!
Operator:
for Rapid Solution of Math Stuff.†Okay, what is your full name?
Dr.
ahem, mine assistehnt. Let go, stoopeet!
Sorry! I-
Operator:
the sky?
Dr.
It ees the Dienight Zone!
My story, my program—they are doomed! Doomed, I tell you!
Operator:
disorganization… Ow! What-
me. One moment, we’re discussing types of fruits, and the suddenly,
standing in a quiet, dense jungle!
WILL THE TIDE Edited by - Suffix on 1/18/2005 7:35:35 PM
OF THE DIENIGHT ZONE RECEDE?
OR WILL
EVERYTHING BE DOOMED TO HUMID FORESTS?
IS THE FREE BACON
DONE COOKING?
DO I EVEN LIKE
BACON?
WHY DO THE DOORS DISAPPEAR AT SUCH UNFORTUNATE TIMES?
WILL HARRY MAINTAIN HIS SANITY?
HE’S JOEBOB, ISN’T HE?
WHY DOES HE KEEP SHOWING UP?
Fred:
Johnny:
Fred:
new heights!
Johnny:
times you said it.
Fred:
joke-making prowess, huh? Well, I’ll do you one better. Why did the kid toss a
dinner roll?
Johnny:
Fred:
HAHAHAHAHAHA*falls over*ha, hee hee, ha ha!
Billy:
Johnny:
story?
Billy:
next episode of “Whatever-this-is!†Which should be coming up rapidly.
HOW DID BILLY
GET THERE?
DID HE STEAL MY
LINE?
WILL WE GET
ANOTHER TAKE?
Harry:
Bob:
Harry:
Gold Doors. No matter what, I cannot find out what they do and what is on the
other side!
Bob:
I looked for info on the mysterious gold doors, and ordered a cool product. It’ll
be a surprise!
*RUMBLE*
IS THERE A MINISERIES COMING ON?
SHOULDN’T I KNOW THIS?
Edited by - Suffix on 1/21/2005 7:24:54 PM
Harry:
Bob:
Harry:
Bob:
Harry:
Large Guy:
Squeaky Guy:
Bob:
Harry:
Bob:
Squeaky Guy:
WHAT DO THE DOORS DO?
IS THERE MORE TO IT?
(I just asked that.)
Edited by - Suffix on 1/22/2005 7:53:11 PM
on earth…?
in fright*
let’s get out of here!
that was strange.
Interlude from The
Golden Doors (it just never ends...)
Pseudoepilogue from
The Astute Duo
Henry sat down
in an armchair and began speaking in boredom.
“So, I’m going
to be in this guy’s “Creative Writing video.†Pretty neat, huh? Bob shifted
sleepily.
“That’s nice.
Good thing it won’t affect our reality.â€
“Yeah.†Henry
smiled idly, and then changed the subject. “Do you think I should change my
alias again? The narrator’s been calling me “Harry†just to disguise my
identity. But it’s not working.â€
“Well, the only
person who knows it in this reality is Howard. And the selective audio sensor
we tagged him with hasn’t detected any use of ‘Henry,’ ‘wormhole,’ or even
‘rat.’â€
“That’s
comforting. I suppose we should help the author create a new plot. And from
what I’ve sensed, he’s planning to make the new nemesis my own creation!â€
“Scary,†replied
Bob emotionlessly.
“Yup. Probably
some sort of service droid. In fact, he just thought of a likely candidate! And
similar to other stories, the adaptive AI malfunctions.â€
“How typical.â€
The Other
Pseudoepilogue from The Astute Duo
Henry: Bob?
Bob: Yes?
Henry: You’re
making a mess of your milkshake.
Bob:
is it my fault that I hardly have any lips?
Henry:
sips.
Bob:
can do that.
Henry:
know, now that our 24-page story is done, I feel kind of aimless. The next
story still hasn’t started.
Bob:
about aimlessly*
Henry:
should build that magcouch I dreamed of in the containment cell.
Bob: Okay.
Could we start now?
Henry: Wait a
moment! We haven’t finished the current ministory. We’ve got to solve the
mystery of the gold doors!
Bob: Aw, do
we have to?
-- The journey
continues! --
Bob: Back
to business. Which door should we try this time?
Henry: I
don’t know… How about the one closest to the foot of the stairs? *goes through,
comes out of a house*
*electric saw noise*
Henry:
Hide in that bush, please. Most people tend to shy away from giant rats.
Bob:
Okay.
Henry: If I
didn’t know any better, I’d say the golden doors create random areas. I bet the
narrator would know. Where is he?
Bob: I
don’t know. Go ask that elderly lady in the garage, making a bookcase, where we
are.
Henry:
Excuse me!
Grandma:
*stops* Oh, hello there. Who are you?
Henry:
Henry. I’d like to know where I am.
Small Voice: At my old school, we never came home in—who’s
that with grandma?
Grandma: Did
you hear that?
Other Voice: Hey,
Ms. Frizzle! Why aren’t we moving?
Ms. Frizzle:
Shhhh! The saw’s not on, we’re in the cord!
Grandma: Sounds
like some babblings’ coming from somewhere…
Henry:
*glances back at Bob suspiciously*
Grandma: Well,
Henry, this is-
Parrot:
Awwwk! Tuna breath is at it again! *CRASH*
Grandpa: Time
to get out the vacuum cleaner again.
Henry:
Sheesh. Let’s go, Bob.
Grandma: Whoa! Whoa!
Giant rat! Enormous!
Bob:
-- Back in Henry’s
house --
Henry: This
is getting old. Narrator, what do the gold doors do?!
Narrator: If I
told you, it would ruin the surprise! Ask the readers!
Henry:
Well, the booming guy can do that.
HEY, YOU THERE, WHAT DO THE GOLD DOORS DO?
DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA?
WHAT? YOU DON’T CARE?
ISN’T THAT A SHAME?
Edited by - Suffix on 1/27/2005 12:24:02 PM
"Chocolate milk is the best thing to ever happen to the dairy industry."
- Ian "Suffix"
Suffix:
these gold doors isn’t apparent enough.
Pippin:
Suffix:
Pippin:
Suffix:
Narrator:
just after the Windmill incident. No? Ah, the “Electrifying Trip.†So after
deciding to re-embark on their journey, Henry said-
Henry:
abstract painting.
Bob:
Henry:
newspaper protection, but it looks pretty neat.
Bob:
Henry:
though*
Narrator:
Henry:
tell us anything useful. Why-
Narrator:
from a small shed, it seems. To their left, an immense, crumbling church stood,
leaving a slight scent of medieval times. Actually, there was quite a different
literal smell.
Henry:
smell?
Bob:
odor reminds me of when I’ve gone without a bath for a week. But if it wasn’t
for this nice breeze, it would be much worse.
Narrator:
the smell came from. Suddenly, his hearing perked up as he noticed faint
yelling far off, down a dusty road. He walked up to the path and peered to the
right in the warm sun.
Bob:
zoom-optics.
Henry:
tablet computer* Alright, focus is coming in now. What the-
Bob:
Narrator:
battle, between hundreds of rodents! About sixty creatures upon a battlement
were throwing various projectiles down into a ditch, where a small army of
foul-looking things lay.
Henry:
are?
Bob:
sized. Bigger than me! And I thought I was I large rat!
Suffix:
Henry:
get here?
Narrator:
tired of this.
Suffix:
Pippin:
rodent! Get me out of here!
Suffix:
I can fill in! I know the secret! Well, I should have known in the first place,
actually. Let’s get…
Robert:
Henry:
Robert:
insulting fiend?!
Suffix:
this!
Every Person in
the Universe: *runs for cover*
Henry:
Perhaps I’ll get a real story soon.
WHAT IN THE
WORLD?
ERR, WHAT IN
THE UNIVERSE?
I BET
CHUPPERSON KNOWS THE SECRET OF THE GOLD DOORS?
DA? NINE?
ADIOS?
"Don’t look into car headlights and freeze, because you might get run over or shot."
Edited by - Suffix on 2/22/2005 6:27:34 PM
Cordially,
Jacob: I
sure wish we could go back to a simpler time… A time when you don’t need forty
thousand pigs to write a VHS tape!
Random Guy:. Gasp! I know what this is leading to! But, I
like it just the same.
Jacob:
Yup, there's always time for nothing.
Clock:
Or is there? BY my estimates, you have 2.856616531 minutes to wrap up
this little escapade.
Jacob:
In that case, I shall become ruler of the world! You there! You shall be
the test subject!
Random Guy: Huh?!
Jacob:
Come sit down in this comfy chair, I insist!
Random Guy: It’s
made of some sort of metal. Doesn’t look comfortable to me.
Jacob:
Quiet! Sit! *shoves random guy into chair* Bwahahahaha!
Random Guy: “Bwa?†This can’t be good. Why is this chair so
tingly?
Jacob:
Because… It is my phantasmagorical, Transmogledupooplis Machine! Prepare
to be transmogledupooplised!
Random Guy: What?! Let
me out of here!
Jacob:
It’s too late for that! Hahaha!
Clock:
too.
WHAT WILL BECOME OF POOR RANDOM GUY?
WILL HE ESCAPE?
DO YOU THINK THE NAME JACOB HAS A PURPOSE?
NO, YOU’RE WRONG?
Edited by - Suffix on 2/23/2005 3:00:10 PM
"What? A half-gallon already?"
Edited by - Suffix on 3/22/2005 3:55:17 PM