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Topic: A Shadow Over Drasnia Q&A
Subject: Post in the works...
... might even manage to draw Cay into the mix en route to the Goblin. Seein' as how she's already practically right outside the place, anyway... Mug of that oh so famous ale before we try to cheat our way into Thanald's, anyone? 
Posted on 2008-07-04 at 18:53:21.
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Topic: Happy Fourth of July!
Subject: Indeed!
Happy Independance Day to all us Yanks! WooHoo for unbridled patriotism, alcohol, and explosives all in the same long weekend, eh?
Now, of course, that's not what the 4th is all about (the alcohol and the explosives, I mean), and I know that, but you'll never hear me complaining about the 'fringe benefits'! In addition to celebrating the 'birth of my country' I also get to make stuff go BOOM!
In all seriosuness, folks, celebrate safely and, for those of you who get a long weekend out of it, enjoy your 'extra day' immensely!
Posted on 2008-07-03 at 17:56:42.
Edited on 2008-07-03 at 17:57:31 by Eol Fefalas
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Thanks, Van...
...glad you enjoyed it, too!
For the record, I think I'm familair enough with all the folks in this game to say that we all know where the line between fantasy and reality is drawn and are mature enough not to take any IC stuff personally, good, bad, or indifferent. Never once,as I wrote that post, was I concerned that Alacrity would be 'out to get me' or that Vanadia would have taken offense to Sam 'dream-groping' Willow... The only true concern I had was, perhaps, not doing Willow justice, so to speak, in the post. But heck, even then, it was Sam's dream and, in that respect, I'm actually kind of surpirsed that she wasn't talkin' porno-dirty and there wasn't a bow-chicka-wow-wow track playing in the background. 
Posted on 2008-07-03 at 17:49:28.
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Topic: Star Trek: Operation Persephone
Subject: Mac's Back!
Stardate 09.05.2374 – 1522 hours
USS Cerberus ASRV-83964:E-001
Mac wanted nothing more, at this moment, than to rage and rant and ‘slap the ever-luvin’ shyte oota some dumb haggis’s ‘ead,’ as he stared grimly through the escape pod’s viewport and watched the Cerberus come apart. His stomach turned, his teeth grinding and fists clenching, as he realized that too few of the ship’s ASRV’s had even launched for him to hope that even a majority of his crew had survived the explosion and, of those that had managed to clear the hull, he’d seen at least five of the things instantly consumed in the fireball that had, until moments ago, been a brand new Steamrunner.
This shouldnae be, he rolled the thought over and over in his mind, perhaps trying to convince himself that this was all some sort of nightmare, A theng jus’ does no’ ‘appen as this did. Stinks o’ bloody treach’ry an’ sabotage!
His first instinct had been to blame the Romulans, of course, but that lasted only a nanosecond. The Romulans had too much invested, here, and even if he didn’t fully trust them, he was certain that this sort of thing wouldn’t have been their cup of tea. Bring down a Starfleet cruiser with a sneaking decloak and full spread of torpedos, perhaps, but not what could amount to a suicide mission. No, the RSN was entirely too vain to consider such a thing. Besides, each and every one of Sienae’s crew had been monitored close enough to count the pores in their skin from the time they’d boarded; none of them had had the opportunity or the access to have done something like this.
An’ ef et were somethin’ amiss wi’ any o’ Cerberus’ systems, sure tae Chroist, Engineerin’d ‘ave picked up on et an’ mitigated e’re she go’ as far as blowin’, aye? A decade ago, in a situation like this, Mac might have been quick to suspect the ‘last minute replacement’ of key personnel…Cap’n’s expectin’ a CEO wi’ whom ‘e’s familiar an’, when et’s too late ta guff aboot et, get’s another whose s’posedly older’n dairt an’ all bloody ‘ell breaks loose. Aye, s’posin’ all tha’ time jumpin’s made th’ lad wonky… Tell me I’m wrong, Mester Cameron,
Mac’s narrowed eyes glinted as they ticked towards the Chief... The bloke looked absolutely ill, both physically, as if his stomach might empty onto the deck at any moment, and heartsick, as well. Nay, lad, Mac decided almost instantly, this was no’ yer fault… an’ fer th’ luv o’ heath’r an’ haggis dinnae start blubberin’ like Dixon, boy-o.
Jack’s gaze panned over the rest of the officers who shared the pod with him, then. Lt Dixon, when Mac’s eyes met hers, quickly tried to dry her tears and put on a brave face. Ensign Montague was strapped in next to her, looking, much like his chief, as if he couldn’t decide whether to puke, cry, scream, or dance a jig. Then there was Rrowl; the surly Kzinti’s expressions nearly unreadable. If it hadn’t been for the lashing of the CTO’s tail and the half-flattened ears, Mac might’ve missed the fact that the Rug was right pessed at what had happened and, likely was already plotting vengeance… Aye, Rrowl, Mac promised without saying a word, We’ll be lairnin’ who’s ta blame fer this an’ when we do, lad, ye’ll get yer tairn! … Finally, looking confused and scared all at once, was a young woman dressed in blues – Ensign Llyvette, he believed was her name - who had been standing post at Science 1 before the ship had blown. This one tied a tight knot in Jack MacTavish’s gut because, even though she looked nothing like Chantelle, the slight frame, the flighty nature, and the Science blues did nothing but remind him of his wife… Chroist, Mac growled, imagining what her reaction would be when and if the news of the Cerberus’ destruction made it to Caldos IV, I ‘ope tha’ ye dinnae catch wind o’ this fer a fair sight, Chan-luv.
=/\=Chirp=/\=
“We’re bein’ ‘ailed,” he muttered in a ghostly voice as he pressed the button to respond. “This'd be MacTavish.”
“Well, ain’t that fortune smiling on our little party,” Jon Hash’s voice returned. “Lt. Hash, Captain. I’ve got a few of my medical staff with me, and a couple of other crewmen. The pod is full, but I am showing only a few others within the vicinity.”
“Acknowledged, Lt,” Mac rumbled in reply, his own fingers sliding over the control console, now, and confirming the doctor’s report of limited ASRVs from the Cerberus within range of any of the pod’s sensors, “Ef ye’ve go’ any engineerin’ blokes abaird, ‘ave ‘em set tae bolsterin’ communications an’ sensor relays, aye? Let’s find those tha’ we can an’ gath’r th’ flock, t’gether. Should ye ‘ave none abaird tha’ c’n manage flight control, Doctor, sit tight an’ we’ll come tae ye.”
=/\=Chirp=/\=
“This is Centurion Sienae i’Mhiessan Khnialmnae,” came the next report, “I have with me Lt. S'Talon i'Iuruth D'mora, Lt. Rhiana i'Ramnau Khellian, Lt. Shiarrael i'Ramnau Pardek and the four security guards detailed to us, with us. We also have the Cloaking Device for the Charon safely aboard.”
“Sounds as ef ye might be a wee bit cramped, Centurion,” Mac replied, “Stand by.”
“Have you heard if the rest of my team has checked in,” Sienae queried, “They were not with us when your command to abandon ship sounded.”
Mac swallowed hard and clenched his teeth. He had just lost scores, if not a hundred Starfleet officers and enlisted personnel and Centruion khnialmnae seemed panicked over the one or two missing from her detatchment? “Negative, Centurion,” he grumbled in reponse, forcing himself not to bark at the Romulan and remind her that she should be thanking whatever point-eared gods she might worship that so many of them escaped at all, “There be only a scatterin’ o’ ASRV’s lightin’ up th’ sensors, an’ yer bu’ the sec’nd tae repairt in. Communications’re tetchy a’ best, lass. As I said, stand by. I’ll be ‘avin’ Lt Commander Cameron lookin’ inta tha’ pos’ ‘aste. Ye’ll be advised as we c’n manage.”
The reports continued to come in confirming what each of them had secretly feared - too few had escaped the destruction of the Cerberus; so many had died. The last of these was from MSgt MacQueen of the M.A.C.O.s. With her were a few of her marines and an engineer named Stan David Stowbreiski.
“Thank ye, MSgt,” Mac responded to the Marine, advising her as he had the others to report that the goal at present was to maneuver the ASRVs into a tight cluster and, if possible, pool resources to ensure increased chances of survival and eventual recovery, “Stand by. Updates as their available, aye?”
He stabbed a finger at the conole and closed the channel before, finally, lifting his hands to his face, pressing fingertips into his temples as if to keep his head from exploding. Something about the survivors aboard that last ASRV gnawed at him but he couldn’t quite figure what it was. He was glad that those crewmen had survived, of course, but there was something out of place there… he could feel it in his gut but his mind couldn’t lock it down… something about the last duty roster he’d reviewed… Och! Fargitall, he told himself, his hands pushing back from his temples and running over the close cropped salt and pepper of his hair, et’ll come tae ye, Jack. A’ th’ moment’ h’wever, ye’ve go’ more impairtant thengs tae consid’r… Fleet’s made ye a Cap’n, lad, et’s time tae act th’ part…
“A’right,” he growled, his hands dropping to disengage the restraining harness and push himself out of his seat as he turned to face the officers in his pod, “Ev’r one o’ you lot suck et up an’ ge’ those fargin’ glum expressions offa yer gobs! Th’ rest o’ me crew’s bobbin’ aboot in th’ black all fargin’ run-amok an’ settin’ here feelin’ sorra fer ourselves’s no’ gonna do a bloody theng tae change tha’, aye?
Our fairst objective’ll be tae gath’r those pods tha’ve managed ta survive tagether an’ ensure we’re secure an’ defensible. Mester Rrowl, I’ll be needin’ye ta coordinate th’ tactical capabilties o’ the survivin’ ASRVs, an’ sniffin’ us oot suitable coordinates tae rendezvous… some sort o’ middle ground tae circle th’ bloody wagons, aye? Ensign Lyvette, ye c’n assist Lt Cdr Rrowl where th’ sensors an’ sech’re consairned.
Mester Cameron, Lt Dixon, an’ Ensign Montague; you lot’re responsible fer makin’ sure tha’ wha’s left o’ us’re in bonney-blinkin’ shape. I wan’ all our pods huddled up aboot th’ campfire singin’ Michael row yer fargin’ boat ashore wi’ in th’ next two hours! Get us lenked up, secured, an’ in tip-tops on all systems, un’erstood? Tha’ means bloody power management maximized and routed ta critical systems – distress beacons, life suppairt, sensors, and wha’ev’r defensive capabiltie we c’n manage – an’ once tha’s done, I wanna know wha’ in th’ name o’ Bonney Prince Charlie ‘appened tae me ship! Are we clear?”
“Aye, sir,” Dixon and Montague both croaked in unison, freeing themselves of their restraints, each ready to go to work despite the shock and grief that still obviously consumed them. Chief Cameron, though, didn’t so much as blink. The man simply sat there, staring dumbly out the tiny viewport at the spot where the Cerberus once was.
Jay-zus! “Did ya no’ hear wha’ I said, lad,” Mac growled taking a step towards the Engineer.
No answer just more blank staring and an expression of sheer disbelief and misery.
“Lieutenant Commander Cameron,” Mac demanded, louder this time… the blood starting to sing in his ears when, yet again, the CEO failed to so much as look in his direction. “Och! Fer th’ luv o’ Chroist!”
MacTavish stomped forward and unceremoniously released the straps that held Cameron in his seat, then delivered a sound slap to the side of the man’s head and, grabbing twin fistfuls of Duncan’s jacket, hauled him forcibly to his feet. “Ye better fargin’ wake yer fargin’ arse up an’ move et when I fargin’ says tae move it, monkey-boy,” he barked, his eyes blazing and teeth gnashing as he roughly shook the engineer, “er fer the luv o’ heath’r an’ haggis I’ll break me foot off s’far up inside it ye’ll be spittin’ oot me toenails fer a fargin’ month!
Aye, we’ve lost our boat an’ a bloody good part o’ our crew along wi’ ‘er! Et makes me as sick an’ angry as et does th’ rest o’ ye bu’ tha’ does no’ change our situation! If yer gonna boo-hoo an’ bellyache, b’God, yer gonna do et whilst yer makin’ sure tha’ the rest o’ yer crewmates’ve go’ th’ best possible chance o’ survivin’!”
Cameron was blinking, now, rapidly… Grand! Th’ lad’s startin’ tae hear me!… Mac growled and slung the CEO towards the viewport, cuffing him with another trademark slap to the head as a follow-up. “Ya see those winkin’ lights ott there, haggis,” he growled, “Tha’s wha’s left o’ this crew! Those tha’re dead’re jus’ tha’! Dead! Casu’lties o’ war! We be a’ war, Mester Cameron! Et’s tae be expected an’ ye should know tha’ per’aps better’n the rest o’ us, should ye no’?!
Yer obligation’s no’ tae those tha’ve a’ready perished in pairsuit o’ this mission, lad, bu’ tae them oot there who’re still suckin’ air an’ wi’ th’ grace o’ god, still capable o’ completin’ et! Those tha’re dead, lad, would expect nothin’ less o’ ye! An’ I expect a damn fair sight more! If ye cannae see yer way clear ta make any of et ‘appen, Mester Cameron, ye feel free ta open tha’ bloody hatch o’er there an’ finish th’ rest o’ us off, aye?!”
Duncan finally turned and regarded Mac as if he could finally see the Cerberus’ CO, a light in his eyes that was a mixture of lonliness, grief, and thankfully, anger at having been man-handled like some new recruit by an overbearing drill instructor.
“Are yew seein’ an’ hearin’ me, now, Mester Cameron,” Mac demanded now that his CEO appeared to have been snapped back to the moment.
“Sir,” Cameron said at last, “Aye sir!”
“Bloody brilliant,” MacTavish chuffed, “then quit eyeballin’ me as ef yer aboot tae kick me arse an’ move yers, monkey-boy! I’ve a’ready wasted more’n enough o’ me time doin’ the reel wi’ ye an’d like tae get tae wairk!”
((OOC: Okay… that’s just part 1, of course… figured I’d throw at least that much up right now just to prove that, yes, by god, Eol is going to post to this game and, as you can see, has finally found good ol’ Mac and elevated his bloodpressure back up to the levels we all know and love. Got muuuuch more in the works and am hoping to have it posted by late tonight or tomorrow at the latest… possibly even sooner, thanks to the inspiration from all of you! Hope you enjoyed yer arse-chewin’ Duncan… Mac hasn’t monkey-boy’d anyone in a while… you should feel honored.  ))
Posted on 2008-07-03 at 17:26:28.
Edited on 2008-07-03 at 17:35:57 by Eol Fefalas
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Topic: Star Trek: Operation:Persephone - Q&A
Subject: You guys are totally insane!!!
What a hellacious bout of posting that was! And, as I've mentioned to a few of you already, just the fire that needed to be lit under Mac's ruddy arse!
I've got a tremedous chunk of a post written up already and, assuming that you lot don't get too crazy in the next 24 hours, should have it up and throwing some other bits and pieces about fairly soon.
Just so you know... I think you folks are incredible. Thanks for 'bearing with me'!
Posted on 2008-07-03 at 15:40:29.
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Topic: Is Vanadia on a plane AGAIN?
Subject: Noooooooooooo!
Not a return to the rampant chaos of really real life!!!  Oh the humanity!
Be safe, Lady Vanadia, and, since you're travelling on business, anyway, might as well try to have a little fun whilst you're at it, yes?
Warm wishes and good vibes, dear lady. We'll be right here waiting for you when you get back. 
Posted on 2008-07-03 at 15:32:32.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Sure...
...he was thinkin'; "Ow! That really ruttin' hurts! I reckon I mighta stepped in front o' one too many bullets...oooh... lookit the purdy birdy...Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!"
*blink blink*
Wash: "Did he just go crazy and fall down?"
Posted on 2008-07-03 at 14:00:30.
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Topic: Demonic Vending Machine
Subject: LMAO
It spits out a big stinky bag full of lies, flip flops, and chicken bones!
After Duncan's last bout, I feed the poor DVM an entire crate of Tic Tacs, some antibacterial soap, and a gallon of Jack Daniel's to ease the pain.
Posted on 2008-07-02 at 20:03:53.
Edited on 2008-07-02 at 21:05:57 by Eol Fefalas
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Topic: Star Trek: Operation:Persephone - Q&A
Subject: Found it...
Per the star trek wiki and some referencing of the TNG Technical manual:
Escape Pods (also known as "Autonomous Survival and Recovery Vehicles" or ASRV on Starfleet and Federation spacecraft) are launched from specialized bays beneath retractable sections of hull plating. These sections were spaced about the ship, providing access for as many crew members as possible. The typical ASRV is a six-person craft capable of sustaining survivors for up to eight months. (*Eight-person versions were also said to exist) Both types were equipped with impulse microthrusters and emergency subspace comm systems; however, without a warp drive, survivors were reliant on larger ships for ultimate rescue. There also appears to be at least one phaser strip on the outer hull of the pods.
So, on a ship the size of Cerberus, let's say that we can get 6 people per ASRV.
Kind of minimal info I know but, hopefully, gives you something to work with. 
Posted on 2008-07-02 at 18:51:08.
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Topic: Star Trek: Operation:Persephone - Q&A
Subject: I used to have that info somewhere, Oko...
...soon as I dig it up, I'll post it for ya.
Posted on 2008-07-02 at 18:14:50.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: LOL
I know that, Roger... I was just funnin' and givin' Tann-mann a hard time.
Was actually a fun post to write and, honestly, I didn't feel 'dirty' for even a minute. Sam, on the other hand... well... we all know what Sam was thinkin' don't we?
Posted on 2008-07-02 at 18:11:21.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: That was totally PG!
Or at least the parts of it that I posted anyway... 
Thanks, Tann... glad you enjoyed it.
Aaaand ya had to go and remind me that my character was groping the GM's wife's character, too, din't ya! *thwap*
Thanks, puhn yoh! Now I feel dirty!
Posted on 2008-07-02 at 16:31:11.
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Topic: A Shadow Over Drasnia Q&A
Subject: *griiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin*
That'll work... been PMing strategy and such with Glory (and Spiders, indirectly). I'll wait for their posts and follow up from there. That shop very well may come in right handy.
Posted on 2008-07-02 at 16:14:26.
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Topic: Star Trek: Operation:Persephone - Q&A
Subject: LOL
What? Did Brom catch you all off guard?
Gershdernit!
My extreme and profound thanks to Brom for, once again, pulling my butt out of the fire on this one. The man is amazing, I tell ya. I recomend shwoering him with applause whenever you get the chance.
Also, Lysk... if you're still lurking... the PM'd post from Chantelle helped, too, thank you very much my dear Kohai!
Anyhoo, gang, I'm in the process of reading and re-reading everything from the Plot Twist onwards and hope to be posting for Mac sometime this weekend. Buckle up!
Posted on 2008-07-02 at 16:12:00.
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Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: It's all over but the... Hey! Willow's nekkid!
"Hey Sam! Come on out and tell your bouncer we're all friends."
Don’t reckon I’m gonna be able ta do that, Kid, Dash smirked inwardly as his finger touched the trigger, how’s ‘bout ya come in here an’ get me, instead?
The Avenger coughed a few times and Sam was sure that one of the fuzzy shapes he’d been aiming at had taken at least one of the rounds… “That’s right,” he mumbled, “eat it ya chwen joo.” His consciousness wavered, again, making the Avenger too heavy to lift again and his own body too heavy to move. That was a bad thing seeing as how he’d only managed to plug the one feller and now the other one was swinging his way with a hog-leg.
C’mon, Wyatt, Dash prayed as his gaze was consumed by the abyss-promising blackhole of the shotgun’s barrel, Don’ lemme die here, puhn yoh… Not wit’ them ruttin’ purplebellies skirtin’ th’ place…
“Chwee ni duh,” he spat out loud to the man behind the shotgun; a final act of defiance before his brainpan was peeled open and used to paint the floor.
CRACK!
Suddenly, the shotgun disappeared, leaving only Jake’s blurred shape framed in his wavering sight.
P-TOW!
Fuzzy Jake started dancing… looked like an alamand left… and spun to face the bank’s front window.
BLAP-BLAP-BLAP!!!
And there went Fuzzy Jake, right outta the world doin’ the herky-jerky.
“Gorram but I ruttin’ love that Kid,” Dash swooned just as limbo crashed over him. His head thudded back to the floor a split second after Fuzzy Jake, plumb exhausted from doin’ the bullet boogy, did.
“Well, ni how, bao bei,” Dash murmured as if dreaming.
~*~*~*~
“Just lie still, Sam dear,” Willow cooed softly as she dropped the last of the pilot’s ruined clothes to the floor, “and tell me where it hurts.”
“Hurts ruttin’ ever’where, Miss Will,” Dash grinned in reply as the delectable doc leaned over him to more closely inspect his wounds, “My gorram head, my gorram body, hell, I think I done broke my ruttin’ innards ta boot… Ta mah duh but you smell good!”
Her smile lit up the entire room and he was pretty sure that he heard angels singing as Willow’s delicate fingers feather across his temple and entwined in his scruffy hair. “I’m sure it does hurt everywhere,” she purred, her sweet lips pressing to his forehead in a lingering kiss. “Does that help your head,” she asked, smiling seductively as she pulled away just a bit.
“Uh huh,” Sam nodded as the doc’s fingers slid down his cheek and along his neck.
“Where else?”
“Right… right here,” Sam pointed at a scrape on his neck, just above his collar bone, and was rewarded by having Willow’s lips dance gingerly over the injury. He shivered with pleasure and couldn’t keep his hands from reaching for her delicate frame.
She looked up at him and his own fingers found the curve of one luscious hip and, almost tentatively, slid around to caress that lovely silk wrapped bottom… “And where else,” she breathed, sliding onto the bed with him.
“Here,” Dash touched a bruise on his chest and Willow’s lips followed, evoking a rumbling moan from the pilot. His hands danced over her as her kisses rained down on more than just the obvious injuries.
“Better,” she asked, her breath hot and sweet against his skin.
“Darlin’,” he whispered in reply as his hands slithered across the small of her back, then teased their way up along her ribcage allowing his fingers to slip underneath the cropped silken blouse, “I ain’t feelin’ no pain but that as is in my nethers, now.”
The blouse came away with surprisingly little effort and Sam wasted no time in tossing the gossamer garment aside. His hands found the top edge of her skirt then and, as he shimmied the thing down passed her hips, her mouth found his…
“I can fix that, too,” she promised, leaving Dash licking his lips in the wake of what he reckoned had to be the most toe-curling kiss he’d ever had.
Sweet Jesus, don’ lemme be dreamin’!
((OOC: SQUEEEEEEEERRRRRRRKKKKK!!! Looks like a decent place to put on the breaks to me… Probably not the Willow we all know and love, of course, but Sam’s dreamin’… Funny how when any of my characters get the mi tian gohn kicked out of ‘em, they always go out with a smile on their lips.))
Posted on 2008-07-02 at 15:40:00.
Edited on 2008-07-02 at 16:03:02 by Eol Fefalas
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: No doubt!
That was spectacu...
Waitaminnit! Umm... Alliance patrol ship?!?!?
Ta mah duh!
Can Sam wake up enough to post? Or maybe crawl away and hide?
Great post, Roger! That was truly a 'Hallmark Moment' if I ever saw one.
Posted on 2008-07-02 at 01:13:18.
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Topic: Hammer Hiatus
Subject: Well yeah...
...but you hacked me back up a few days later and other than the minor Gruggle-reflux burns I came through it okay.
Seriously, though... No 4e! Get thee behind me Hasbro!
Posted on 2008-07-01 at 19:58:33.
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Topic: Hammer Hiatus
Subject: We'll keep your seat warm for ya!
Have a great vacation, Hammer. Enjoy the time away from work and the doldrums of the standard day-to-day fare... we'll all be waiting right here when you get back.
Best wishes and safe travels, mate!
Posted on 2008-07-01 at 19:47:56.
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Topic: A Shadow Over Drasnia Q&A
Subject: Somanobatch!
Okay, so the snakes are being super diligent and not even leaving their posts fer love nor money, apparently. (The fargin' so-and-sos!) Is there a 'back way' into the shop in front of which Hogar is standing guard perhaps? And, if so, exactly how secure is the boarding on the windows and doors at Hogar's back? Any space to get an arm and a blade through, for example...
Just doing a little on the fly contingency planning, here, and considering doing a bit of B&E on the shop and snatching ol' Hogar back through the door or somesuch... not 100% committed to the plan, as yet, just weighing options....
Posted on 2008-07-01 at 18:57:06.
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Topic: Corrupt a wish
Subject: That's gr8
So, Grugg, you are a race car buuuuut instead of VROOOOOM you go puden-am-POW-udn-udn! meep meep!
I wish I had a giant uninflatable V to go with this giant inflatable 8.
Posted on 2008-07-01 at 17:34:21.
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Topic: Corrupt a wish
Subject: Voila!
Meri does, in fact, rethink her wish... However, due to a short circuit caused by the floodwaters in her hooberneighd, gets stuck in an endless loop and repeats the same rethinkedededed wish over and over and over again, driving the rest of us to the brink of insanity (of course, some of us live close enough to walk there but that's beside the point isn't it?)
I wish that wishes wished themselves. Or is that wishy washy?
Posted on 2008-07-01 at 17:23:29.
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Topic: Who Owns Rusty Dull Swords? (W.O.R.D.S.)
Subject: S.C.O.T.I.A.
Some Children On The Internet Atrophy
Posted on 2008-07-01 at 17:18:45.
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Topic: Vote for the Inn
Subject: Grugg and Eol for President...
...er... I mean... Vote for the Inn!
Huzzah for #3!
Posted on 2008-07-01 at 17:16:50.
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Topic: Who Owns Rusty Dull Swords? (W.O.R.D.S.)
Subject: What the heck? Y.O.D.E.L.S.
You Over Dramatize Every Little Situation
Posted on 2008-07-01 at 13:58:04.
Edited on 2008-07-01 at 13:58:45 by Eol Fefalas
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Topic: The Would You Rather Game
Subject: Oh... decisions, decisions...
Can I say "depends on the victim"?
Push, pull, or drag?
Posted on 2008-07-01 at 02:03:41.
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What game do you own the 
Return to Charadun - Q&A
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