[This story was originally written in the forums, where the original copy can still be found. This was, in fact, the closest thing to a story first written on Reality's End, so it is naturally full of non-story elements, which have been purposefully left to convey the confusion caused and to show just how much writing has advanced here.]
Once there was a magickal land by the name of Ref. It was a phantastical domain occupied by a large assortment of freaks and rejects, er, I mean worthy people... who were cool... and did not suck... yeah. Anyhoo, one day, misfortune came to this marvelous kingdom. It seemed like any other day.
Far off from the main land, but not too far away from the tavern (for weakness of mead), reclined the grotesque, green goit under the shade of an aged tree. The peace, tho', was shattered, much like the goblin wished unto the skull of the intruder, as footsteps pounded up the gnoll.
"Gobbo," the voice shouted, "It's terrible! A grave crisis has befallen the world of Ref!"
With the brim of his wide hat still lowered over this eyes, he uncaringly inquired, "Does this affect me getting food in any way?"
"Nnnnnnnyes," the oncomer changed to lie. "And its the worse kind of evil to ever come, too. It's -"
The goblin threw himself from his lay with boggled eyes, screaming "No, not that! Anything but that!!!"
"Yes," his fears were confirmed. "It's ... SPAM!!!"
"Mmm, Spam..." The kobold's horror turned to delight as he was whisked away in savory thoughts of devouring the magical mystery meat. He could almost taste the slimy flesh-like compound melting in his mouth. The dream was shattered by a retch.
"Aww, dude. Why are you chomping down on that racoon pile?" the visitor questioned. Confused, the lunatic turned to find a banded bandit clung to the tree behind him, who, after maliciously giggling, scrurried up the tree.
"Oddly enough," Mad Goblin noted, "it tastes the same."
"That doesn't mean you have to finish it off," the other continued, whencing in disgust.
"Oh, of course it does," the fiend replied, licking his fingers. "Now then, what were we talking about? ... oh yeah, food! Man, I sure wish I had some right now," he trailed off again, looking for some other steaming wad to consume.
"I'll feed you later, re-re, but, right now, we have to save Ref, remember?"
Shaken from his food crazed stupor, he finally responded. "Huh? Oh yeah, that stuff. Sure, I'll help you, er... who are you again?"
"'Who am I'? We've only met, like, a hundred times-" stopping mid-speech, it was then realized the large number of empty booze bottles that piled around faerie-kin. "Oh... right. Well, my drunkardly oaf, until the next time I have to remind you, I am ..."
"No one." And at that, the man vanished. The goblin sat in shade, wide-eyed at the events that had just transpired. He looked over to a field of emptied bottles and shook his head. "I must be building up a tolerance. That hallucination was nothing compared to that last one..." he drifted off, fondly remembering Nate, the talking lemming with wings made out of potato chips. "This can only mean one thing," announced the fiend, rising and holding a finger toward the city of Ref on the horizon. "I need to get more al-cohol!"
And off went our hero, down a well trodden path, until he got bored. So, he decided to take a slightly more adventurous one.
Thirty-two hours of being lost in the Dark Forest of Death and Many Sharp, Hurty Things later....
"I know there is supposed to be a short-cut around here somewhere. It would help if these trees would stop moving around... and trying to kill me."
"Hey man," responded one of the trees, "we didin come inta you'h home lookin' delishus, man." He looked down over his gaunt, grotesque, and reviling frame strewn about with what filthy scraps he felt like covering with.
"Yeah, I'm pretty good, huh?" he agreed. "I remember the time I tried to eat myse-- waitaminute!" exclaimed he. "Why do you want to eat me? You're trees!"
"Hey man," responded the tree. "Why ya godda be like that, huh? We just like da taste of you'h blood, man."
"Well I like the taste of lots of things blood, but you don't see my cutting the heads off of and drinking the precious fluids of everything around me, do you?"
"Well, no," gave in the tree. "Wait, man, what ya sayin', man? That all ya done sin' ya got he'e, man!"
"Those squirrels had it coming to them," rationalized the goblin. "They were, uh, evil."
"Say," realized the servent of Ghob, "trees don't have blood, do they?" As he spoke, his enormous, jagged-edged claymore was pulled from seemingly nowhere.
"No, man. No, man. No. I dun think so. A'ight," denied the forestry. "We have sap, man, okay. Sap is na'cha friendly. Blood is the tool of consahvatives and... Hitlah."
"But it still is squishy and delectable, right?" he put to the tree while, for some reason, wearing a bib displaying himself consuming a tree on it. After a pause, the tree finally let out a sigh.
"Yes, it be sweet an' tasty an' ya put it all ovah you'h pancakes to make 'em fine." It received a queer look from the goblin. "Oh, uh... 'man'," it tagged on, earning a nod of approval from the faerie-freak, just before he started up his chainsaw. "Wait, man, wha's wit the saw? I thought ya had a sah'd?"
"Psch! Like anyone's paying attention to what's going on!" he stated.
"I was," the oak quietly rebutted. Quickly thinking, it spoke out once more, "Wait, man. Ya don wanna haht me. For, um... I hold da key to you'h quest... and stuff." Intrigued, the humanoid ceased the hacking.
"Stuff, you say? Very well, go on," he permitted. He quickly fabricated a tale.
"Man, de'e's a mystical palace of... eh... Seven 'levens, a'ight, man. And you must seek out this domain to retrive da ... oh, c'mon, man, think... da Chili Dog of Amazin'... Value! And... brin' it back he'e. Oo, an' a small Coke."
"Gotcha, one chili dog and a vial of coccain. I know that kingdom well!"
"No, man, I meant- ... yeah, dat's 'ight. Now be snappy. Ah'ma hung'y. Eh, I mean... destiny is. ... yeah."
And at that moment he was off for his dog and drugs, on his way smiting many supposedly evil yet cute looking squirrels. And then for absolutely no reason, a gigantic banana boat fell from the sky, with hundreds of midget elvis impersonators onboard. The small goblin then walked away because that would make his quest much too strange, but one midget approached him and said with an akward tone in his words, "hi." Then Mad goblin slaughtered them all and stole their giant banana boat which I forgot to mention had wings. He then floated many bajillion miles upward when he discovered he had forgotten to kill the huge nude amazon woman hiding on his head the whole time. THEN SUDDENLY.....
... he realized just how much he drank.
"Dangs, man. I must be loaded!," the ghobling said, casting aside an emtpied flask. "I mean, it seems like that entire day just shot by in a few, blurry, undefined minutes (with occasionally poor spelling and grammer) that left much still wanting answered. Wouldn't you agree, Flyria, the Talking-Jell-o-Mold-Formed-Glob-of-Dust-Bunnies-I-Met-On-the-Very-Same-Voyage?" The TJMFGoDBMGMOtVSV nodded its head, dispelling much of its being into the air. "And, like, what's the deal with this Amazon?" questioned the green one. "Who wants a burly dike who's only half breasted?"
"I believe," noted Flyria, "you're friend, the B.A.M.F. Cheese Judge."
"Oh yeah," Gobbo realized before dismissing the thought. "Nah, he wouldn't. She may be more man than woman, but she's no where near old enough for his tastes.
"Quit your belly achin'," roared the hideously nude amazon, beating her curly haired chest (... ew), "and let us battle to the death - on your head!!!" The freak shrugged to the challenge.
"Fine by me." Leaning against the side of the Flying Banana Boat, which he dubbed "Skippy," he knocked off his hat, and the unsightly Amazoneon as well. But, as she plummeted to a fiery death, she was ... burnt to an undistinguishable crisp... hmm, guess that's the end of her... OR IS IT???
... The answer is yes. Yes, it is... Seriously.
"Hey, speaking of my homophile friend gave me an idea!" pondered the goblin. "We can seek out the Cheese Judge as an easy sourse of crack and a variety of other narcodics!"
"Hey, yeah!" squealed the disturbing pile in its bubbly voice. "That would make your quest a lot easier!"
"Quest?" replied a most puzzled fiend. "What are you talkin' 'bout? I'm just out."
And so, our heroes... or whatever the hell you want them to be called, sailed off to the realm of the Judge when ... *pause for suspense*
Skippy's wings fell off. Both passengers started screaming in high school girl voices filled with utter panic until they started coughing. Soon after they cleared their throats, they realized slightly that just because the banana boat had lost it's wings, it just wasn't falling. The goblin didn't like this bizzare miracle and with a quick slice of his chain saw, fixed the problem by making it worse. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz! Down plummeted our 'heroes' and the banana boat which was spewing smoothie juice all over the sky. As luck would have it. All landed safely on top of the judge. With the judge smited. Madgoblin decided to take the corpse's shiny red slippers and wear them on his ears. Out of the mountains came THE CRIMSON CLOAKED MAURADER OF DOOM! doom! doom. He pointed his CRISMON GLOVE OF DOOM! doom! doom. towards them and spoke:
Today we had assembly and for some reaosn I sat in the dirt, I found treasure to my excitment, a 10 cent coin which was bronze (not silver) from living underground, and a chunk of dirt with a 10c coin imprint. I stashed the coin, and later through it at a random teacher, WHO DIDN'T EVEN LOOK AT ME WHEN I THREW IT! The end.
So anyone else find any treasure of the useless variety today?
Having relayed his ominous, although utterly confusing and bizarre message, the grim marauder relinquished his CRIMSON GLOVE OF DOOM! doom doom...
"Dude!" enthusiastically spake the goblin. "How do you get that echoing effect? It's spiffy to the max plus five!" The blackened giant stood in awesome silence.
... and continued to stand in awesome silence...
... aaannnddd still. Until! -
"I like the beach of puppies in tartar sauce," he menacingly stated, followed by, "The summer gives me inflated gas prices in ascending order." Not even the random assembly of fragments that construct the Ghobling's mind could decipher the speech of the lumbering dunderpot, who had recently fallen down.
"Oh, I get it now," Gobbo said upon revelation. "This guy is, er, was one of the Judge's 'clients' for street pharmacy," he corrected once remembering the shiny red shoes upon his ears. Also, it came to his attention at this time that the shoes, in fact, were originally white. Thouroughly disgusted with the gory footwear, he licked them like the freak he is. "Aw man, you can get stoned on this guy's blood! ... Sweet." Turning back the prone marauder while pocketing his recent discovery for later use, he said...
(Play at home! Answer right and win a cookie!)
(warning: cookie may not exist)
"So what do we, I, do now?" wailed Flyria. "I'm without a single narcodic and you two will soon run out, leaving use drugless with our quest!" With that having been said, the moldy jello let out a huge belch which turned himself inside out and flung him about twenty yards into a pile/pool of smoothie.
Having noticed this and still being under the influence of shoe blood, Gobbo remarked:"the purple llama flies at midnight."
The Crimson Cloaked Marauder of DOOM! doom doom... replied to this with: "Want to buy a monkey? Tastes like chicken." Both stoners went for a high five but fell on top of each other in the process. With the contents of their pockets spilled,The Crimson Cloaked Marauder of DOOM! doom doom... picked up his The Crimson Underwear of DOOM! doom doom... along with Gobbo's chainsaw. Securing his undies over his head, The Crimson Cloaked Marauder of DOOM! doom doom... started up the chainsaw and rode around on it like a unicycle.
Gobbo grabbed up Flyria while scolding "the pidgeon's are getting away with my sousaphone discount!" Shortly after the goblin hopped on to the maurader's shoulders, thus completely disrupting his balance and though an attempt was made to counterbalance, they fell backwards and started to be dragged along by the rogue chainsaw.Flyria, who was on the bottom and still throughly turned inside out, caught on a rock and quickly started to stretch.
The chainsaw soon slowed down due to the moldy jello's resistance and lost the battle of direction, catapulting itself, Gobbo, The Crimson Cloaked Marauder of DOOM! doom doom... and the now re-reversed Flyria backwards and into the heavens. "Platypus BURRITOS from Pizza Hut!" Shrieked The Crimson Cloaked Marauder of DOOM! doom doom... as he noticed they were all streaking towards
Godzilla is taller then thou.
THUMP!
The hurtling vessle bounced over the incompotently speaking being.
Screeching to a hault, Gobbo asked, "What'd we hit?"
"Oh, nothing of value," Flyria said, who apparently is dust-bunnies inside a Jell-o mold as well as moldy gelatin... which makes no frickin' sense, MORON! "Only Camo."
"Oh," he said uncaringly. "Is... there any left?" Turning to face the conglomeration, he noticed its cheeks full.
"No," he squeaked with a full mouth.
"Drat," he complaned. "And I wanted a monkey!"
"What?" The freakish pile questioned. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"I dunno," he admitted, "but we're getting one now!" Cheerfully running off to acquire a primate, Flyria beat it's head into the ground repeatively before painfully following... for some reason.
The Crimson Marauder of DOOM! doom, doom... stood there all alone, until he found a magic bunny that became his bestest friend.
But that tale, my friends, is another story...
... actualy, it's not. He just ate it.
Not soon after The Crimson Marauder of DOOM! doom, doom... had ended his relationship, the travellers came across a cheap gift shop. The forsaken mass of living jello grabbed some stale candy bars, while the CMODDD picked up a squirty camera. Gobbo screeched down the toy aisle and found what he desired: a single Computerized Automated Monkey Oodler that not only was stiff as a rock with cheap fabric fur, but knew a bajillion useless phrases. Of course, none of them had any money so in a heroic act of, er, marauderness, The Crimson Marauder of DOOM! doom, doom... did the second best thing he could do! He FORGED an 'I owe You' note! With the kindergarten dropout dealt with behind the cashier, the trio ran off into the wild! In the lead was Gobbo, hearing every single death threat and just out reach and 'squirty camera range' while he pushed the talk button on his Computerized Automated Monkey Oodler rapidly with his pinky finger.
And no closer to finishing their quest,scratch that. And no closer to finding out exactly what their quest is, our hero's will soon be grappling each other. But what is that odd smell? It's luckly not any of them, but considering how long its been since any of them bathed, it sure seems like it. Little know to any, the source of the reeking aroma is
And then some random little asian kids began to sing the Gamera theme song.
the next thing that happened was a giant turtle began flying about.
"Ew, Gamera smells funny," squeaked Flyria, who now wore a sign around is makeshift neck reading, "NOT JELL-O, YOU FRICKIN' TARD MONKEYS!!!" as a third telling for those illiterates who haven't figured it out by now or are just too stupid to acknowledge such a plainly stated fact.
"Sorry," the lunatic said, "but, due to international copyright laws, we cannot have Gamera appear in this story. This is the surprisingly similiar 'Phantasmagorical-Spinning-Attack-Turtle' whose theme song is entirely played with a single note on a kazoo." As Gobbo attempted a terrible, more legally used rendition of the Guardian of Children's theme song, Flyria approached him.
"Wait, if that's true," it asked, "then how come we can call me Jell-o?"
"Ah, nertz," the knave groaned, smacking his head. "It's Green Jelly* all over again! But don't you worry, I've figured out a solution to this problematic circumstance as well."
(* Don't you know that Green Jelly rules?)
So, as Gobbo beat the life out of the dust-bunny conglomeration, the P-S-A-T plummeted upon the small Asian child.
"No," he moaned on death's wings, "I thought you loved us!" It rose and dropped five more times.
"Never!" The astral reptile emerged from its shell, disposing of the sparklers it was holding within. "I hate all males who wear hot pants! I mean, ah, jeez. Put on some pants, you little freak!"
"I don't think he can hear you any more," the green rogue pointed out.
"How so?"
"Well," stated, scratching the back of his neck, "you killed him."
"Oh... right. Well, you seem to be in a similiar predicament," it noted, pointing to the destroyed Flyria.
"Oh... right," Gob echoed. "Hmm, I guess we all know what that means, we-"
"I'm goin' ta Mexico!" it interrupted as it jetted off south of the border.
"Drat," the fiend cursed. "I was gonna ask him to get me a sombraro."
AND THEN SOMETHING HAPPENED! LIKE... STUFF!!! OR, SOMETHING WITH ONE OF THOSE SINGING WALL FISH! THEY'RE PRETTY COOL, RIGHT? Right? ... my throat hurtses...
The weary party passes by an inn the next day, where a cloaked figure sitting in the shadows suspiciously eyes them.
"Good day, friends," the man replies. "Yes, I can see that you are very distrustful of my guise. Looks may be deceiving, however. Behold!"
The man tosses back his cloak and reveals a sword-hilt glowing blue...
"...then...are you..."
"...why yes, my friends. I am one of the order of the Retainers of Light."
"the - what!!?"
"The Retainers of Light," the man said, "in eternal servitude of the White Castle of the land of Ref."
At this, the party stirred. What White Castle?...was he talking about the Judge?...in any case, this might have been a person working in the name of spam...
"...I thought I told you that looks are deceiving?" the man mumbled. "I can tell you a great deal of the beginnings of the Spam invasions, and how they have managed to cause the land of Ref great evil."
"...three score ago, you will remember that a great shadow struck; it was, indeed, nearly dominant, until the allies of Justice disbanded the axis of evil. Now, however, we of the White Castle have reason to believe that Spam is a foul reincarnation of the dark shadow."
"Darth Sith?" one person inquired.
"BE MINDFUL OF YOUR THOUGHTS!" boomed the man. "Darth Sith does not stand long, he is to be replaced by Darth Vader if you need to know!...
...the question of Darth X is not to concern you, though. What I think you really need to know is how to balance your mindforce."
"Our... Mindforce?"
"You never knew your abilities to use magic? Your minds are divided into the Warrior, Spirit, and Summon. This is a large secret; most will refer to it as a balance of Power, Wisdom, and Courage, but now the secret of the Virtues seems to be fading.
Warrior magic is similar to the Black Magic of Final Fantasy. You, my friends, may not be able to learn this without joining the White Castle, and I do not want that to happen. I will, however, leave with you some of my Rune-Books; I think I have enough for all of you to learn several spells.
Spirit magic is like White Magic of FF. This is a very simple magic, basically it involves a very simple incantation or play of words. In fact...in most of you, I think your Mindforce is most inclined towards this one.
Summon magic is the most mysterious magic of them all. It takes a great deal of Mindforce to bend your will in the direction of summoning even so much as an arrow to strike a foe. Summon-spells can only be learned if you manage to first break the blades of twenty-five other opponents. Unfortunately, even if I wanted to, my Retainer's Edge is wrought of mithril-silver and possesses the Spirit Shield of the White Castle. I...don't know...but as far as I have seen, it was able to absorb some of the Spam-forces' most powerful spells."
"Umm....look, dude, I know you're good and all, but get to the point! We want to know all this magic trash!"
"Fine," the man grumbles. "For your reference, I am LieutenantEagle, the Pyro-Retainer of Light. Now then.... Gilthoniel, a Elbereth, incantus luminari.."
...The party is stunned as a pile of Rune-Books appears before them.
"All right. Please be careful when reading through these...if your Mindforce is bent in the wrong direction, there is no telling where you will end up. I once got thrown into the End of Time when I was a Paladin-Apprentice. Should you ever encounter need for my summons, here." LieutenantEagle gives the party a shuriken. "When you toss this Summon-Shuriken at a servant of Spam, I will come to your summons."
"....but, Lieutenant, what if we hit someone who is not a Spam-servant?"
"That is no problem. The Darth-Shield will simply bounce the Shuriken off a person who is not a Spam-servant. I shall be leaving you now, fare thee well. Apparus chateau blanc!"
[MG I think your adventure might now be even more interesting. If not, eat the shuriken]
And with that he ate it, but it bounced wildly inside him until he explodered (thats a funny made up word hehe) Yet the jello-jelly-dust-what-ever-the-hel-it-is said :!!!!!!!!!
"Perpenduci- I mean, perpejendictluar- I mean, perpendicutlual- Ah, screw it!" and left. Gobbo put down the book.
"Wow, it's amazing how similar this book is to my own adventures," he noted. "I mean, I didn't even know others had even heard of hyper intellegent beings comprised of dust-bunnies formed within a Jell-o mold and not of moldy Jell-o like some half-(or lack-)witts would think."
"What the hell are you talkin' 'bout, Gob?" asked the other. "That's the only similiarity in that story to what has happened in past days, and, really, that's only because you just wrote it down on that bar napkin!"
"Oh yeah," he remember, peering down at the words by the doodle of himself standing over the world with full buffitude and hot chicks hanging of him. "Then, what's real?"
"Um... everything?" the other tried to tell him. "Well, not that thing about Flyria you just read. If you remember, you... killed it horribly."
"Oh, yeah, what a hoot!" he reminesed. "Wait a minute," he realized, "if Flyria's dead, the PSAT left, and the CMoDdd... stayed behind to kill the bunny, then who are you? ... and you? ... and... you?"
"I'm the first one you pointed to."
"Right, right," he rambled. "But, seriously... who are you?"
"Arg!" the second grunted. "You need to be told? ... again?" They didn't even bother noting his state of stupor and just decided to tell him. "Okay, dolt, remember this, this time. I am ..."
"THE CRISON MARUADER OF-what the?" there was a flash of white light as CCMODDD was pulled through a magical vortex and spat out the other side. "I, I... I think I just summoned, myself..." The Ghobling's eyes went huge. "Really! Wow! Lemme Try! THE CRISON MARUADER OF!" again the marauder was sucked up and spat out in a crimson heap at the feet of Gobbo. "Wow this rocks! this is even better than eating that biography of Hey Cheng-AAHH!" Another blinding light flashed and out of it came...
NOTE: Due to sucking too much, Hey Cheng has been editted from this story for your reading pleasure. We now continue with Goblin Rabblin'.
- and out came *explitive deleted*!
"Oh, no!" cursed Gobbo. "It's *explitive deleted*! Why?!? Why did it have to be *explitive deleted*? Anyone but him! He sucks! ... a lot!"
"Do not fret," boomed the CMoDdd. "I shall slay the vile *explitive deleted* with my ultimate skill, which the legends have dubbed as..."
THE CRIMSON FLAMING PSIONIC SOUL STRIKE OF DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! From the cloaked marauder's hand grew a spark of crimson energy, which grew and started to shoot bolts every in every direction. Cape flowing away from the orb of plasma, CCMODDD leveled his arm at explective deleted as he roared "BE GONE!" The glow flowed through the marauder, then the blood colored bolt struck it's target. The summoned abomination shrieked in a cry of pain as it exploded in a blast of light and blood. "Dude! Do it again! That was awesome!" urged Gobbo, who was now inspecting the smolding red crater. "My eyebrows...it burned of my eye brows, and my nose hair. At least, i won't have to shave for ten years..." wept CCMODDD. "Maybeline sells fake eye lashes and nails." Chirped the Computerized Automated Monkey Oobler, that had been neglected to be mentioned for a while of posts. The maruader looked up. "Where is this Maybeline? She's the only one that can help me now." And the universe shook as Gobbo said something smart. "If I recall it's...
"- at the farthest point from the direct coordinate of Gaia's antipode from our current trajectory, carrying an opposing angle to our current as well." All stared in complete and utter stupor.
"... Wha?" They all asked in unison, even passer-bys who knew the fiend not and some crazy man dressed in a lobster suit. Dang, that's crazy! To remedy their confuzzlation, Gobbo lift his arm, and, in a feat shocking all, stuck this thumb out to point behind himself.
"You 'tards," he mocked. "The frickin' place is right behind us!" The all looked about, trying to hide their shame. "Man, you guys suck! And that means a lot coming from me." Walking away, he turned back to add, "A whole lot!"
So, the goblin, marauder, and monkey walked towards the... the...
"I forget," Gobbo butted in. "Where are we going again?" Everyone crashed to the ground.
"To the giant sausage shaped rocket right in front of you, to stop it from letting somebody set us up the bomb, idiot." someone said. And with that because of lack in the other post he exists Grand master of funk and whatnot Vinchenzo the semi-awesome knight appeared and said "Take off every zig, and remember what happen!" Seeing as all nonsensical idiocratic phrases and storytelling is sponged out of me something great and of unspeakable evil good or neutrality (shut up I know or think its not a word) HAPPPPPPPPPPEIEnED
"AHHHH!!! CCMODDD! It's another explective deleted!!" yelped Gobbo, "Blow it away!" The cloaked ego-and-red-obessed man was about to sacrfice what was left of his facial hair when the Computerized Automatic Monkey Oodler (someone's got to come up with a way to shorten this name) started throwing up all sorts of useless and annoying info to challenge the awesome knight. Try as he might, the maurader could unannoying way around the two duelist and decided to just forgo his eyebrows for the next twenty years when both the knight and the Computerized Automatic Monkey Oodler spontaneously combusted into peanut oil. The two remaining travellers then watched in horror as
... the Ghobling said "Peanut oil? That's lame!" he protested! "Why did this have to happen now? I don't have any of my peanut oil equipment around!"
"Well," the CMODdd noted, who's name actually, oddly, is actuall C'modd (shocking coincidence), "you have had twenty years to retrieve that stuff, or even built some from all the stuff laying around here!"
"Oh, I doubt that," doubted Gobbo... how redundant. "I see nothing of value around here," he said, glancing over the pile of disabled peanut oil related material pieces and parts next to the pile of working peanut oil utilizers. "I mean, duh!"
"So, you'd process the Computerized Automated Monkey Oodler? That's cruel!" he protested. "Have you no respected for the C.A.M.O?"
"Absolutely NOT!" he said, turning to the viewers with a cheesy smile and thumbs up. C'modd tapped him on the shoulder.
"Um, we're a story, not a show," he reminded the absent minded fool for the fifth time.
"Oh, right. That thing," he accepted. "Well, then, I'll just have to reverse time! ... Using magicks!" The sky clouded at his words and sent, streaking from the heavens, red lightning hurtling towards earth!
* CLUNK! *
"Ow," C'modd girlishly whined, rubbing his head. "I mean, DIDN'T HURT." The lunatic knave stooped down and picked up the object.
"Oo! Red Lightning(tm)!" Gobbo gasped. "Delicious generic brand soda at its best!" After quaffing the tasty beverage, he continued on with his original purpose. "Anyways, I shall use magick to time travel! ..." His eyes darted around in anticipation. "... what? Nothing this time?"
"Guess not," confirmed some random passerby on the street.
"Psst, Gobbo," the Marauder asked. "Who was that guy?" He could only shrug.
"Back to my original point, which, amazing," the fiend pointed out, "I did, in fact, have."
"SHOCK!" interjected C'modd.
"I shall use the mystical mystics of the mysterious mysteries in these mists- I mean, tomes that Lt. Eagle bestowed upon us," he explained.
"Oh, neat!" he squealed. "Er, sounds a'ight. So, you'll be doing some black magick- er, ... 'Warrior' magicks? 'Spiritual' magicks?"
"Pfft! No!" Gobbo rejected. "Those aren't fun. I'ma gonna use Summoning!"
"Summoning?" he puzzlingly inquired. "How can that change time?"
"Behold!" Lifing up his arms and channeling magickal power through his enchanted onion ring, a blackhole opened up from the ring's center. Out from the portal jumped... a larger onion ring!
"Bloody blood!" cursed C'modd. "What is that suppose to do?" The colassal ring made contact with the earth and began to roll, but not along the ground, the ground rolled along it! With massive force, the fried treat pushed the earth against it's rotation. Sun's rose from the west and set in the east as leaves flew into trees and were sucked into their branches. Monthes became years as years became... twenty years! Yeah, why not? Finally, the great, tasty hoop slowed till it came to a hault. Time had been reversed to the point were the C.A.M.O and the ... other guy whose name escapes me at the moment and I am too lazy to find out began their skirmish.
"How the hell did that happen?" demanded C'modd. "How did reversing the rotation of the earth reverse time itself? The earth has nothing to do with the control of time flow! There's a whole universe out there what was outside of its effects!"
"What? Haven't you ever seen Super-Man movie? Number... um... something?"
"I don't care what movie did it!" he snapped. "Besides, if time were reversed, wouldn't the onion ring have been flung back into its portal only to come out again to reverse time back unto the same point, causing a loop in the flow of time?"
"Well, that could be the case," Gobbo admitted, "but we'll never know now..."
"Why?"
"I... devoured it."
burp
Not particularly related to your feeble little mind, but it has been proven that the universe is round, y'know?
No, I'm not joking. I'm serious. When you form a triangle between Earth, the Sun, and a third star, the sum of the triangle's angle measures is greater than 180 degrees. This, in turn, means that the universe is in no way a flat infinite surface (much like the Earth was originally hypothesized to be flat), but rather a spherical shape. Wait a second, doesn't that make our universe finite?
Also, there has been a debate going on about the centrifugal force in the universe. Anyone know anything about it?...I haven't read my Scientific American / Discovery magazines in a long while now. Too busy reading MaximumPC or Nintendo Power, or playing either Wind Waker or Mario Party 4.
"By my crimson obsession, what are you talking about now Gobbo?"
"My heart burn,"whined the ghobling " which reminds me, If this is twenty years back, I shouldn't have heartburn and further more, this forum wouldn't exist thus making it impossible for any of blah blah blah ..." C'Moddd had stopped listening three seconds after into the lecture as he realized his eyebrows had grown back. For about another hour, C'Modd jumped up and down screaming his happiness as Gobbo droned on and on. and on. and on...and on.
After three more hours had past by in a similar action, the marauder clutched his sprained ankle as the ghobling sipped hot tea, trying to regain his lost voice. The awesome knight and the C.A.M.O. joined him for the same reason. "Hey guy's... since we're all sitting here and I'm going to cast some magic for my ankle, should I summon a videogame? Which do guys want, X-box or Game Cube." asked C'Moddd, who chuckled as the other three inaudibly rasped there reply over and over again. "You don't care? Then i'll get myself a handheld." The tea sippers wheezed pleaingly in vain as the marauder healed himself and summoned a small game of Puck man. Attracted to the handheld's crappy music from deep in the forest, burst out-
"...Goodness!" exclaimed Gobbo. "Over here!"
"Now what?"
MadGoblin points to an insignia on a wall. It is an image of a shuriken within an..onion ring?
..."What in blazes is this supposed to mean?" MadGoblin inquires.
"That should be pretty obvious," says a cold voice behind him.
"M-Mace Windu? What, by the name of Reality's End are you doing here?"
"I? Oh, to your small-Mindforced heads, I'm just running an errand for Queen Zeal-"
"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE, WINDU! Baruk khazad, khazad ai-menu!" An adept axe-hew cleft Mace Windu to the ground.
"Thank you, Gimli, you may leave," says LieutenantEagle. "For your references, that is the insignia of the Onion Time-Warp."
"The - what?" MadGoblin asks.
"Ah - right. A certain prophecy states that 'he who consumes a Summon-Shuriken alongside an Onion Ring of Time shall obtain the force to traverse the space-time continuum at will'. You are the first mortal who has satisfied this requirement."
"But how -"
"Think Quidditch and don't ask. Hmm...MadGoblin, I must tell you that your party is unfortunately under-equipped. You are the only one who has any chances of despatching foes."
"Why me?"
"Well, it's quite tough to explain. Here, this should aid you in your quest."
Hands over 20 Onion Rings
"When you consume an Onion Ring, you will enter the Bullet Time environment. You will be a human Kamaitachi until the effects expire. For your friends, the Onion Ring will do nothing more than replenish Health Points."
"Umm, Lieutenant?" asks boyachi. "How did Gimli get here?"
"I used a complex Summon-spell. Yeah, I'm sorry but you can't get it.
"WHY?" MG asks.
"It's one of those things granted only to the Retainers of Light. If I were you, and were serious about gathering offensive Summon-spells, here."
Hands over four Spamslash Edges
"Use these for a while, and you'll learn the First Four of Offensive Summons."
"Which are?" Gobbo inquired.
"Summon Sword, Summon Spear, Summon Arrow, and Summon Staff."
To be...continued?
"Wow whis is ummm really complicated now!" The awesome knight vincent said "I mean the fact I'm an awesome knight of funk and other things pretty much is underscored by the fact that I have awesome skill and awesome equipment, but you know."
"Yes I too would like to know why it has become so complicated in lietenanteagles posts, despite his refusal of answering plotholes"
"Haha" Lietenent Eagle (or what ever persona represents him) said "You see-.................
"I am secretly planning to record this very adventure and making it into an RPG rivaling that of that of Grundun's Incitement 18!!! Then Squaresoft! And then, I will go to the bathroom!"
"What about disney?" chirped C.A.M.O
"Why not go to the bathroom before this happens...supposedly."inquired C'moddd.
"What makes the spear so offensive? It looks clean to me, kinda smells like mana, but other than that, it looks really clean and wholesome."asked Gobbo, who then bites the spear. "Hey, it tastes like an onion ring!"
Out of the blue, the cool night vincent turns into a galian beast and starts going after everyone. "Gah! he's been possessed by squares!!!" the vicious beast grabs Eagle and throws him up into a tree, where he hangs by his underpants. Shortly after, the fiend collapses and turns back into vincent, who is out cold. Furious, Eagle transports away. The remaining three turn to watch vincent...
"hmmmm, is he dead?" Gobbo says, then pokes him in the eye with a stick
"OW what the hell was that for you idiot!" Vince yells somewhat beastially. "hey what happened...? Whered the guy who talks funny and about summon stuff and leaves plotholes wherever he lurks even though earlier he was trying to convey a more sophisticated rpg style story...?"
Gobbo then asked "what???"
"oh, I just said what happened, nothing else...." Vince responded, suspiciosly
"You turned into a galian beast, Whatever that is" the cmmodd said
"I think it's a...." Vince was interuppted
"I said whatever that is!!!....." He yelld back
"Hmmm must have been because gobbo bit that spear" Lietenant Eagle said
"Hey I thought you teleported....." Vince the knight of funk and other stuff like that responded"
"Yes well... hey I thought you were out cold." Lietenant Eagle garflopped
"Yeah, knocked out, thats it, and what the hell is a garflop!!???"
"I think the reason that caused you to morph into a thingy is because it caused a.............
"... caused by a terrible plot device."
"Isn't all of this caused by that, tho'?" Everyone simutaneously nodded in response, even the enquirer.
"Wow, when did the popular/fake newspaper reporters get here?" enthusiastically asked Gobbo. "I loved your article on bat boy fighting Sadam. He brought up my moral. Oo, oo! How's that two-tongue couple doing? And is Justin really having Kelly's baby?"
"Don't you mean-"
"No, I don't," the goblin interrupted.
"Ew..."
"Nya, ya see, kid," the reported said, speaking as a gangsta for some reason that will be kept unknown, "we got wind from the good bird that one o' dem black holes were a'brewin', an' we wanted in on the ground floor. ... Nya."
"No, sorry, dudes. No black holes here," the mammoth changling beasted roared with much, er, galiality? ... something like that, anyways. "Though we do have a lot of plot holes and a lot of sucking going down. A wholes lot."
"Oh, impropa english? He mustas means it bad," noted the reporter. "Well, then, fellows, if there ain't one o' those crazy contraptions in the make n'ya, then what monocer ya dub that?" He pointed to a swirling, massive, hideously huge vortex of whirling doom that sucked in all light within the immediate vincinity.
"I said, we had a lot of suck 'n holes."
"Huh-huh," Gobbo grinned. "Suckin' holes."
"Oh, well, in that case, my combly popinjays, I'll just be goiIIIIEEEEEEEE!" Pulled mid-sentance, the reporter was abducted by the gaping hole and hurtled into another dimension! ... or endlessly painful death, what do I care?
"Oh no!" Gasped Gobbo"I wanted to ride first."
"Can you guys stay focused on the task at hand?" groaned Vincent.
"We have a tasked?" said a character (it doesn't really matter, they're all think' it).
"Yes!" he scolded. "... didn't we? I could swear it involved this stick of asparagus somehow," he said, producing the produce from his product, I mean, pocket.
"Well, it does now!" declared C'modd, triumphantly snatching the vegetable and running off.
"Hey, I just thought of something," Gobbo felt the urge to say. "When you say the word C'modd, it sounds like commode, and those are toilets, and toilets are where you poo! Heh heh heh..."
"Is he... always... like that?" asked Eagle, who either, came back, was resurrected, or never left. I lost track."
"Uh-huh," painfully moaned Vince.
"Dang it!" Eagle cursed. "Why did he have to be the One?"
"The One?" the funk lord complained. "That is so lame!"
"Well, you didn't let me finish," Eagle lied. "He's the One... half!"
"One-half?" he repeated in disbelieve. "What, is that suppose to make me think that is sucks any less?"
"Well... yeah, I guess not. I'm sorry," Lt. E. apologized.
At this time, C'modd mousely stepped back. "Er, what was s'pose to be done with this thing again?"
"Exactly," pointed out the militant Eagle. "You can use it in... something with spells... I can't remember, I confused myself!"
"Hey, here's an idea!" Gobbo, breaking his minute of silence stated. "I'm outta here!" Nonchalantly, the fiend trekked off saying, "I don't think much of anything can save this now." He added, "Nothing, that is, short of some sorta miracle..." They all sat in silence... on comfy bar stools! ... no, wait. That's bear stools. Ew.
"So," wandered Vincent's mind, "do you know any crippled children? Miracles always seem to follow them. Why, every Christmas there seems to be some lucky bloke named Timmy who gets himself a merry o' season. Freakin' jerk..." In quandry, he looked about. "D'ya guys here that?"
"Hear wha-" Like a rising screech from high in the sky, a colorless streak crashed into Grudun's Incitement 18 ("I have known so much suck!"). From out of the massive crater, a hideously deformed clutch raked the earth, pulling the hidden creature into view.
"Egad! It's terrible!" gasped Eagle.
"Truly disgusting!" vomitted Vincent.
"I want my mommy!" whined C'modd. "... and some tuna"
Brushing the long, black hairs from its bespeckled face, it sniffed the air intently.
"Ew, smells like suck! ... and hotdogs," noted the amazing Jack Edward Daws, aka: Jackdaw. "What? What are you freaks staring at? Act like you've never seen a miracle before... or hideous disaster... But that's what makes this country great: they're both the same!"
"Er, actually..."
fart!
"Huh-huh! Grudumb's Incitement 18 cracked one!" Jackdaw cackled.
"Can't you let me finish?"
Jack leaned over and whispered to one of them, "Geez, what's in that guys butt? Gay? Nya-ha-ha!"
"Um, I'm the guy who told you to shut it."
"Oh, right... Er, carry on."