Just thought I'd put this story together. Every second addition is in bold.
once upon a time in a galaxy far, far away... ...and I'm serious, it really was far, far away. You know when you look up at the sky and you see all those stars, and there's always one that looks like a speck of dust that appears after you spend an hour or so cleaning your glass? It's further away than that... ...not that ive ever cleaned a glass for an hour or so - I tend to leave all that stuff to John. He says alot of things: about cleaning glasses, the value of ugly people in our society and why self-pornography is the ultimate form of self-expression. Then yet again, he's always had a wild imagination (especially when his drunk). Like this one time, at band camp... the day was clear and crisp, the people... ugly and expressionless.
John looked around in hope of finding some sort of explaination.. for something.. the thing that he was searching for.. rushing in circles searching searching..
then suddenly he stops and becomes aware of the people standing behind him all laughing... poking him.. loving his... cool, clam demeanour as he casually gazed up at the school, staring at the bright, spinning disc descending towards him. Only one thought crossed his mind. "Eat your heart out Fox Mulder."
The object slowed, flames spurting out of minute oblong exhausts in the bottom. Excrutiatingly, painfully, second by agonising second, the extra terrestrial craft touched down upon the smouldering, smoking, glazed grass.
The silvery hue of the space craft reflected the awe in John's eyes as a towering ramp slid down, revealing an escalator. Descending down this escalator was... ...a creature at once seen yet hidden. An anomaly that defied description, John’s eyes seemed to slip away from the creature as soon as he tried to focus on it. Strangely enough there was no fear within John, it was bowed by the sheer strangeness that his mind encountered. Soon he realised that he was holding his breath so he let it out and as he did something even more illusory was happening, the creature was melting, moulding, contorting into shapes that no one had ever seen before finally settling on one… ... and suddenly he woke up and realised it was all a dream. He sighed, relieved that the horrible genre that was science fiction was no longer going to play a part in his life. Suddenly - worse than the unbelievably horrible genre of sci-fi - a dozen English teachers surrounded him, each armed with a copy of Jane Austen's 'Emma'. John screamed in agony, 'Emma' was a sure-fire way for the english teachers to put him in an eternal coma.
'What did I do?' John asked, desperately.
'NEVER EVER END A STORY WITH 'AND THEN I WOKE UP'", they each replied in unison.
Then John woke up and realised it had all been a dream and in actual fact he... ...was having a wet dream. "Emma, EMMA!" The recollection of the nights dream dazed him. Unfocused, he tried desperatly to fidn out whawt that multi-creature was, but dismissed the problem, deciding that perhaps, the greater problem at hand was the mess he had created.
"Mum!" he called in a loud voice to penetratehis bedroom door. "I made a mess again."
A few moments before Johns mother's feet were heard shuffling at the door. "yes, hun, i heard you," she opens the door. "Emma was it again?"
John nods.
"Its okay. I understand, but honey, you really should be concentrating on Mike Moore. You've finished the transformation module already."
"okay mum." So John thought the transformations module was over... but it wasn't (oddly enough, as I wouldn't have said that if it really was), as Jogn suddenly noticed a really stupid typo in his name and he started sprouting extra limbs... his mother stared in a sort of fascinated horror as another leg, another arm grew from john's torso.
"mum-" he whimpered
"shut up boy!"
she paused, letting the delirium surface in her eyes.
"it's alive!" she cackled, "ALIVE!"
... like maggots slithering out of the eye sockets of a month-old corpse the rubbery limbs stretched their way across the bed, the floor and out the door, narrowly missing the terrified mother frozen with fear and awe... .... they created slime, and then some grime. Why, oh why, did we make this rhyme?
... and the time carried onto no avail the maggots kept eating the body kept rotting and people passed by unnoticed and unannounced. However ...one day there was a tsunami. It was no ordinary tsunami. Infused with a ancient magic, the tsunami swept up the remains of John and returned him to his previous constitution. All was well. Or was it... Those thoughts were completely useless, however, as I realised that the tsunami had nothing to do with the current situation... Yet it had everything to do with the tsunami, for out of the torrent of water slid a gigantic sea monster. People shrank back in fear. An old man gasped. "We need John."
"Johns dead apparently," came the authorial voice from somewhere far above. The old man turned and watch the sky, "You killed the main character off, and totally blocked the progress of this story..."
With a stubborn denial that would not waver, the old man defended his belief in John, striking back to the godly figure with his staff, shouting, "No! John is our hero, we need him now!"
"Well, you should have thought of that earlier now, shoudnt you?" The sky rumbled.... .....perhaps there was yet another tsunami on its way....? .... Or was it a cyclone - whipping through the lush forest, waves licking at the shore, tumbling John's body like a doll among rattling shells.... …and john, living, breathing, tumbling, turning, churning john was there, far away from any tsunami but in the midst of contemplating on what to do with this cyclone. “Now I just cant stop it” he thought to himself but then the foolish old man’s words reached – how he did not know, nor particularly care – they were there beckoning him and he must follow, cursing, screaming – like a cat on a leash… John lifted his head and straightened his broad shoulders, adjusting his shirt in the process. John stumbled forward, forcing himself forward against the relentless onslaught of the natural force's fury.
He fell to his knees, despair washing over him.
Slowly, mesmerisingly, the crooning voice of John's ancient, withered grandmother struck forth from his subconcious. "Believe in yourself sonny."
Instantly John knew what he must do. He knew how to defeat this calamity. Rolling up his armsleeves John... ... realised his muscles were actually quite small and he, embarrassed, quickly rolled his sleeves back down. Despair over his scrawny physique interuppted his thoughts once more, and again, once more, he heard his grannie's voice: 'What the hell is that? Where's your muscle? I'm ashamed to be your grandmother. I'm going to go haunt someone else now, you freak.'
John started to cry.
Today had been a bad day. First aliens and a shuddering drop into science fiction, then a frightening encounter with Jane Austen and some english teachers, then tsunami's and cyclones. When will this ever end? He asked.
Then he realised, it'd end in a couple of days when these bored ext2 english students realised they should be studying.
He laughed and said ... "My toast is burning!!" and then the four friends went to get snowcones, and indeed they were gotten, you can be sure about that. And now that that chapter is over, I sit here and ponder the meaninglessness of my own life. Oh woe, woe is me! I am a vampire and an artist trapped in a mortal body, forever doomed to embody the tragedy of unrecognised genuis... ...and then poor john realised that he was having yet ANOTHER wet dream.
"Fuck!" he screamed, leaping off his chair and earning himself a bruised funnybone, which really wasn't all that funny if he thought about it.
"John, we really need to deal with this problem. Haven't you read The Power of One, by Bruce Courtenay? The boy, Peekay, goes to see an African witchdoctor. The Witchdoctor cures him with magic chickens, and then gives him one of his own! He called it Grandpa Chook. What do you reckon we hunt us down one of the witchety doctors, John?" His mother smiled, and then sighed as she mopped up the creamy mess amongst his sheets.
John agreed with his mother's brilliant idea, so he picked up the phone and rang... Kermit the frog and he said "why the hell did u F**k my bubblegoose....punk??!?!" That's when he realised that (GASP) he had the wrong number. He dialed again but when he put the phone to his ear - he was violently sucked into the ear peice... Where his head wnet dizzy and lights spun before his eyes. Slowly John refocused and realised he was standing before an old man in a chair. The old bloke scratched hisbear and said. "Hello John."
John replied, in his most macho voice. "Who are you?"
The old fool replied. "I am the parody of the architect. I was created by a bored extension two student."
John asked. "Why am I here?"
The old man replied. "Your life is the eventuality of whim by fuckfoot which led to Llyrai including you in this continuous narrative. Ergo you are here because, concordly, visi ve, and other long words, a bunch of extension two students who should be studying are fascinated by this thread, and will continue to waste time on here until the novelty wheres off, which may be a while.
If you look around you'll see two doors, the door on the right leads to the little girl's room, which sadly has never been used, and the door on the left leads to some incredibly strange, completely pointless adventure thrust upon you by another extension two student."
Realising he had gone recently, John walked to the left door and opened it, pausing he said. "Let's hope we don't meet again." Then he stepped through the door.... ... and they met again.
'F**k' John said.
'Well look,' the architect parody replied, 'I told you the extension 2 student would be bored.'
'But man,' John said to the architect, 'you're such an annoying character. With that beard and all.'
Then John was killed, and 400miles wondered how (without raising John back to life) the next student would continue this utterly pointless and prolonged story... And then glitterfairy came along.
Being a compulsive rule-breaker, she resurrected John using the Unlimited Power of the Author, even though she was at risk of pissing other people off.
She then picked up John and placed him on a sunny hill in the middle of...
But then she decided that she didn't like that, so she killed John again, and inserted another character - a mysterious Jane Doe, who then proceeded to demand a D-I-Y manicure set because she was bored. But who cares about Jane? John's experiences in the afterlife are so much more fun.
John saw the light, vaugly remembering warning from people who talked about death, and even an amusing scene from A Bug's Life, but he couldn't quite recall the significance of the light. Having nothing better to do, other than float around in the middle of nowhere, John... Reverted back to childhood and started sucking on his toes, feeling an overwhelming compulsion to do something until he could think of something better to do. Which turned out to be... ....attending a full-on 70's disco party. In preparation for the disco he applied lots of sparkles and glitter and even found his vintage bellbottoms from 1977!! As he entered the hall, the facets of the disco ball reflected a glorious spectrum of colours.... With the disco-synths echoing through the room and the strobe lights flickering, it was then that John was offered... A D-I-Y manucure set by a mysterious woman named Jan Doe. Entranced and enticed he asked her to the 70s disco party – mainly coz he knew he had nothing to lose and realised that since he was the main character he would (naturally) get the girl. But in an annoying twist of fate (or twists of fate - they never seem to stop with poor John), John found out he was actually not the main character (and, naturally, wouldn't get the girl), and this whole story had been preparation for the audience who were now to meet their main character JACK. Of course, his name was pronounced "Jack", but his parents wanted to be individuals and alter the spelling slightly and replace the J with a G.
So Gack walked into the room and chuckled at John's confidnece in his status as main character before striking him down with his long, smooth lance, standing over him and... ...called for the 70's disco babes to come along. "Take this poor foil out of our dancefloor! I need not some pathetic, unsustainable character to contrast against my over-the-top ego! A-HA-HA-HA!"
The 80's ageing disco mothers (yes, they aged. Its Bloody Post modern now, alrighHT! Y? kAuse i FArKing Says sO!....bitc-) took John away, draging him through by his under-flaired white pants. Gack called over to them, "Take him to my Hiroshima suit...i dont want the Romantics to find him." And Gack being Gack thought he was all-that-an-a-bagofpotatochips.....
that was until......
Jane Doe strolled her liberated and slightly feministic self into the room and beat Gack to the ground with her index fingernail - (not even breakin a sweat...).
A crowd gathered, for the sole purpose of marveling at the awesomeness of Hydra's (*ahem*) i mean Jane Doe's strength and intellegence.
She smiled to herself - proud of not only being the MAIN main character, now that Gack and whats-his-face were out of the picture
but of also being the - female-main-character-who-DOES-NOT-get-her-gear-off-OR-become-but-a-mere-skanky-airhead-love-interest-to-some-bond-wannabe-in-tacky-white-bellbottoms...
However, while baskin in this important moment for female characters every where, she was caught offguard by... ... a bond wannabe in tacky white bellbottoms....
instantly she became a female-main-character-who-DOES-get-all-her-gear-off.
'Well isn't that the cat's meow,' said Horo.
Who's Horo you ask?
Well he's the... typical sleazy director who sits out the front ordering the women to put on more makeup and less clothes.
But Mary Do-dad (actress playing Jane Doe) stamped one of her Manalo-Blahnik shod feet and refused bow to his whims. Taking a pair of scissors from the costumier (the manicure scissors were fake and thus couldn't be used) and raced over to the costume department, where she... stabbed Gack, what-his-face.....and the horo guy (who followed her to the costume department in order to cash in on her "other talents")......and they died........until they were dead.
Once again Jane Doe/Mary Do-dad reigned supreme as the
- female-main-character-who-DOES-NOT-get-her-gear-off-OR-become-but-a-mere-skanky-airhead-love-interest-to-some-bond-wannabe-in-tacky-white-bellbottoms...
Jane doe/ Mary do-dad then pulled on her awesome looking superhero costume and blasted through the roof - off on another adventure (far removed from the current one which was getting boring...)
She flew low to the ground and spotted a.... ...little sleazy punk in imitation industrie clothes that were, as she notice (somehow), not his. So she placed her middle foot down on the ground, in effect halting her speedy low orbit flight.
Jane Doe stopped the punk with a fry pan in her left, and a sewing kit in her right. "Return those clothes to the rightful owner!"
With a feeble attempt at a defense, the punk boy mumbled something, but was cut off by Jane. "Pfft! another male pig. You punks dont know what you're messin' with!" She flicked her hair, pantene style. "You need to think outside the circle!" and she tossed the boy a Venus tripple blade razor. "Use it, gilliet is the best."
And she was gone, the boy staring at her flight in awe. A stream of gillet flyers drifting down like snow. "...buy one get one free..." the boy read... ...and Jan Doe was off on another wacky adventure - just like a certain yellow skinned family- but, of course, farrr more sophiticated - and banal - than THAT show could ever be.
so after using her amunition Jan Doe realised that something was wrong. perhaps it was the fact that she felt so naked without her sewing kit and fry pan. or perhaps it was that gilliet is not the best and she just ruined the rest of that punks life. or was it the fact that she realised she truly was naked but all of her nuddy bits had been censored by strict Australian censors who wouldnt even let European porn in without having a gander... But then the makers of THE SIMS spotted her in the sky, and thought, "That's the way our characters should look!"
They instantly put a halt to "The Sims - Hot Date" expansion packs to do a remake on all the characters as they just weren't good-looking enough. This wasn't so much an issue in China, where most things are counterfeited anyway, but it was a huge loss in America, with people crying out, "OH MY GOD! WHAT A LOSS! A TERRIBLE LOSS!"
In response to this, Bush decided to call it "September 12th" in a bid to create popularity/sympathy votes, even though it wasn't September the 12th yet. This created an as-yet-unheard-of double rememberance day as the Americans were forced to mourn for not one, but two days. The people responded by... ...re-electing Bush as their president, a staggering and mis-guided 99% Bush against a competitor whose name was forbidden to be published by the Bush "administration" and in no way, impossibly, definantly not, dictatorship.
Quickly, a blackmarket emerged with new contriban. It wasnt weapons of mass destruction as the world had seen, nor cant-be-beat NSW board of studies syllabus' that have been circulating. It was in fact conterfiet 'The Sims.' However, naturally along with Mike and KC, the chinese had renamed in the 'The Xaios' hoping no one would tell the difference.
Unknowingly, parents purchased this good for their children, and soon the trend spread. 'The Xaio's' was the authentic, there never was this crazy business of 'the sims.' As children all over the world played the game, subliminal messages appeared through the game, which directed the kids aged 5-34 to... ...start acting in an incredibly odd fashion. Young men and women of all ages clung to rooftops and tried to re-enact the famous "tower-climbing scene" in King Kong, but this failed when everyone refused to play Fay Wray's role, which involved way too much effort on their behalf. Screaming could get you booked by the "sound effects" police. Grunting was much more in vogue.
Some time later, a rough hierarchy had been developed, but there was still one last battle to go - who would be King (or Queen) of the Apes?
A strangely familiar, lone soul on the outskirts of the descecrated city looked down upon the re-invention of man (and woman) and sighed. The entire thing looked like a counterfeited American summer blockbuster movie, crossed with a... EE2 students’ (yes multiple) imaginations. All in all it was a tragic situation. And with bush re-elected – will the general public ever learn? Ah probably not, we’d all be better if we blindly followed our leaders…but Jan Doe would have none of that political talk and soon ended it before it really began.
So faced with a desecrated city Jan Doe took the easy option and flew away.
Now that THAT city is behind her Jan flies – paradoxically covered with posters depicting naked women and covering her naked body, but what are u going to do about that? – Jan flies but after a near miss with a boeing 747 she realises she isn’t being fair to the normal folk, so she decides to walk. (of course no one would admit that the boeing 747 was actually stalking her – she was not a victim! She just thought walking was healthier – and quite a bit safer) or so she thought… ... and thought and thought. Then thought, 'God, I'm thinking to much.' So she surgically removed her own brains and is now dead.
Having no characters the story came to a halt and responders were given only the imagery of a dead Jane Doe to ponder endlessly whilst they waited for another EE2 student to correct the problem... ...smote him with his rod. Gack smote him good.
Then he went out, head constantly turning, to choose one of the innumberable Starbucks that had sprung like poppies in a war field... when he had chosen said cafe, he decided after ordering a tall soy mocha latte decaf, that he was indeed unimpressed with the abundance of american owned chains. he therefore decided the best course of action would be a polite letter to the author(s) of this story, asking them to eradicate all american merchandise, peoples and chain stores from this humble little tale. this letter read: Greetings, ext2-er students
I am writing ths letter to you on behalf of all the poor, demented and mentally retarded characters contained within the pages of this forum. They send their "hello's" from the afterlife, and hope you'll be joining them soon. (Or resurrecting them - whichever tickles the next postee-on-this-thread's fancies...) As I write, I am sipping a deliciously creamy tall soy mocha latte decaf... which really doesnt taste all that nice if i think about it as I believe the beans used in the soy may have been genetically modified... hmmm.... anyway,
I have noticed the excessive amount of refernces through this little forum, to AMERICAN POP CULTURE. Now, I don't mean to sound like an extension-1-student-who-does-reatreat-from-the-global, but Gack, Jane, John and Hoho (or wateva his/her name was) all agree that -not only does American pop culture seem to largely influence, and in fact dominate today's society- but it also seems to be having a significant impact upon our little EXT2 community, therefore proving the theory that my extension teacher has been trying to disprove all year - "GLOBAL IS BAD, LOCAL IS GOOD"
Therefore, dear reader -
in future all American-po-culture-like-material will be censored with the word "Gwup!"
yours truely,
whoeverwrote thisletter
P.S There are no more messages, to here your messages again, please press 1 now, if not, simply hang up... and the phone was hung up by someone who was typically Australian and in no way influenced by any other cultures, especially Amercia, and could be described as... a small man, keeping mostly to himself. his grey trackpants had miscelaneous stains coursing down the front but he didn't care, since his wife had left he no longer did the washing. this man enjoyed the simple things in life, things like quantum physics, relativistic quantum field theory and burgo's catchphrase. He swished his well-groomed mullet just to feel its smoothness against his neck. A warm, fragrant aroma of simmering, flavoursome foods wafted from the cooking facility located directly to his north hand side. Or did it just smell like beans? We’ll never know because suddenly… He was struck down by a meteorite which came crashing through the ceiling. The tennis-ball sized rock was ablaze and upon hitting the small man set alight his polyester clothing.
The malicious flames licked at his body, charring his skin. The once fragrant aroma of simmering, flavoursome foods wafting from the cooking facility was now overpowered by the acrid scent of burnt flesh. The woman from the cooking facility, looked up in alarm and then.... ... gwup-ed. She knew that gwup wasn't gwup enough to gwup this properly and the only way that he could gwup without gwup-ing a gwup gwup would be to gwup. So she decided gwup she would gwup and then... go and purchase a bunch of thirteen roses, join the Klu Klux Klan and sacrifice a baby goat to the God of Angry Artists and Disgruntled Lawyers. when these tasks had been seen to, she decided to go for a pleasant walk along the mountain trail she suddenly realised began just outside her door. finding this to be more than a little odd, she... Stuck her finger up her nose, (and finding nothing of interest) she proceeded to the gingerbread hut next door which she discovered contained seven angry little men. When she asked them, "What is causing you this anger, you dear sweet little gwups?", the men told her of their pain as they had apparently misplaced their blowup fairytale doll, Slow Wilf.
"How sad!" She cried, "How terribly, utterly, completely and entirely GWUP!"
Then, the cooking lady realised she didn't even have a name herself yet, and she burst into tears. "....wwaaaaahhhh!!!.....i....dont......hava...hava....have-a-name-yet............ WAAAHHHH!" (ps - that is a hint for the next postee to name the poor girl LOL)
Suddenly she sniffed into her newly discovered hanky (hey! i'll never have to pick my nose again! she realised), and it dawned upon her that... ...her name, her name was jane, she was a dane. now an aussie with a cossie, nickname mozzie.
and all was good with the world, the american imperialism had finally come to an end and all were joyous. but in a disastrous twist of Orwellian logic she realised that her hanky was actually a camera and she could do nothing about it because it was all terribly GWUP!
With all the GWUP-ness going on mozzie did not see what was coming up behind her... ... which was nothing in particular... suddenly realising the rules say you can only put a new post up every 4 posts, 400 miles realises he's breaking the rules, chuckles evilly then departs hoping no one would notice... But 400miles, being such a renown character to the contribution to this horrific story, (that llyrai notes to follow no convention, storyline or any other regulation to define itself as a short story - of any value) will certainly be excused. SImply because Llyrai has done the exact same thing pervious!
As llyrai ponders over how to carry this story forward, not backward, not upward, not forward and forever twirling, twirling..! Hotcocoababe jumps into the plot with knives in her pockets, fingers up her nose and gwuping down whatever was of no interest, gnashing her teeth towards 400miles. She said... "Screw this for a joke, im goin' to the pub and getting plastered!" and time slowed down as hotcocoababe and llyrai embraced. They then skipped all the way to the pub where they ran into a busload of swedish tourists that... said "hello, i am heidi, and this is my sister, helga!" thats right, the whole busload of swedish tourists were twins with the same names. coincidence? i think not! the tourists were all yodelling and doing other stereotypical swedish things, when llyrai suddenly noticed a lack of multicultural undertones in this story. so her and hotcocoababe decided to... (....these thighs may make you jealous co+ca, but i must confess to being a 'HE'!!!) ….so as co+ca was left desolate trying to deal with the conflicting emotions that was now flowing through her body (whilst pitted hopes that co+ca is a woman – although it would be better for him if she was a he) and wonders how she is going to cope pitted comes through witnessing llyrai being struck down by a relatively rare disease that inflicts those with ambiguous names and prays for her uhem his life and then suddenly realises that he himself has an ambiguous name and hopes no one notices the spots that are a precursor to this disease – which he has named…..ambigu-itis.
So readers – and players – be ware, as this new disease has NO cure and be certain that prevention is better than the cure neway. And the prevention can only come from the gwup-ness that was so inflicted upon us earlier. Yes, we have to embrace the gwup-ness that fell upon us – for who should deny their nature???? ... well me, for one.
Not really comprehending what was going on in this story any longer (and thinking 'Maybe I should have read the last post properly, not skim read it') 400miles is bitten by a fly, and in an entirely original twist of events, this ordinarily ordinary chap becomes laced with the magic powers of the fly and becomes a superhero, to be known as either Flyman or Phil.
Phil was crying one morning when his mum walked in, his mum gwuped and then... ....hotcocoababe SUDDENLY realised that she had become a part of this thread (what the!?) and that her character was being left outta the loop. So Hotcocoababe raced back to Llyrai's house (a small, lopsided house leaning slighty to the right and made of arsenic-laced gingerbread), grabbed Llyrai's hand and screamed... ...REP ME!!! My little green light is still stuck on that damn distinguished road and my feet hurt! And Englightened One wandered down the wrong backroad, coming upon thw whole scene and wondering what the hell had happened since he was last here. To himself he said.
"Buggered if I'm reading all the posts since I was last here."
After which he looked around, and looking back as far as the post where co+ca introduced the Swedish chicks. He decided to get to know them better... But first he squashed flyman and/or phil – well actually both. For no one likes flies and if anyone wants to be one or even resemble one than they get what they deserve.
However by the time that Enlightened one had found the Swedish chicks or bothered to think about them they had already been picked up by little green men in full suits – apparently the movie business is not all its cracked up to be due to all the gwup-ness that is going around. the Swedish chicks were now extras leaving Enlightened One to not only contemplate his own existence but weather or not pitted can spell…. the answer to this last contemplation is no, pitted indeed cannot spel. it taks a being of higher power such as co+ca two point out this fact as only one of superior speling abilitees can infact critisise others.
in other news, the little green men in full suits soon lost interest in the swedish chicks. they decided instead that Enlightened one himself was of far more interest to them. so they took him in to work for them. unfortunatley for Enlightened one, he lacked the ability to boogie, so he fared very poorly at the company hoedown. only in hindsight did he conclude that... He should have sought the advice of the extremely wise co+ca and not left himself in such a compromising position. Furthermore, whilst noting that Pitted cannot spell, he sought out help to find someone who could teach him the finer points of the dance.... "Dance? Did someone say, DANCE?" An imprudent little man (possibly female?), dressed entirely in green appeared all-of-a-suddenly in the thread. Co+ca blinked (a little sleepily, he admitted), and yawned as he questioned the little man, "WHAT ARE YOU?"
"WHAT AM I!?" roared the extraordinary little green man. "WHAT AM I!? YOUR IMPRUDENCE DISGUSTS ME!! I... am.... the... GREAT AND POWERFUL WIZARD OF OG!"
"Feck, you look rather like a leprechaun though," commented Enlightened One.
Then, hotcocoababe ponders why she has decided to include in this twisted and bizzare thread a green, sexually/gender confused leprechaun/wizard of Og, and hopes that the next postee may have some idea of where to take our little tale next ... The bizarre green wizard of Og bowed deeply and spoke in a deep voice that would have sent James Earl Jones cowering in shame.
"Wizard of Og I am. Og call me you can. For a quest, peril full of, we need you."
Enlightened One and co+ca exchanged confused glances.
"Mind make up you must." Og commanded.
"Why do you speak like that?" Enlightened One asked, hoping co+ca had the police, ASIO, Mulder and the MIB on speed dial.
"All wise, powerful yoda my idol." He stared at each of them. "Accept you do?".... ...which was the precise moment glitterfairy took the opportunity to barge in.
Their mouths were completely open. Not knowing what else to do, she reached into her bag and pulled out a great big: ...bag, in which she reached into and pulled out a great big:
