The Treehouse Gala Pageant That Loads Faster!
POSTED BY: Malicious
UPDATED: Thursday, February 3, 2005 20:33
VIEWED: 15437
PAGE 8 of 12
Quote:
Originally posted by Malicious:
Co-Holder of the Red Bell from Hell
Has it always said Bell?
-----------------------------------
Four out of five gynecologists recommend calling Ebo a girl.
NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | PERMALINK | TOP | HOME
Quote:
I can pretend I'm a badass chick.
I struggle mightily to avoid responding with a clever sarcastic quip.
*alas, fails*
Okay, let me get this right. You want there to be something wrong with your ass.
*gives up forever, yet again, trying to figure out women*
Well, if snakeskin boots are what it takes to ruin yer bum, who am I to not help?
*calls up Ebo's CRS, who's all flush with back pay. CRS hangs up on ex-employer. Dials Russian pilot*
*thwop thwop thwop thwopthwopthwop (etc.). Conscious folk dive for cover. Unconcsious folk take their chances. Comfy chair lowered by cable, cozen climbs in, rises up up up. Begins singing, in key of not-quite-there b-flat, a poem badly.*
Off I go to the land
Of freshly expired snakes.
So that I can lend a hand
In ruining bumcakes.
*'copter noise saves Treehouse gang the horror of further drivel*
*****
! Forgot to ask what size....
NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | PERMALINK | TOP | HOME
Quote:
Originally posted by CosmicFugitive:
*A slither of white light appears in the middle of the treehouse. It slowly expands, growing brighter. Suddenly CosmicFugitive falls to the floor, still wearing his red dress (which is now ripped in several places and covered in multicoloured paint) and looking a mite startled.*
Gah! Get back! Don't look at their heads! They wobble!...
*He hugs his knees into his chest. He looks through a curtain of long, tangled, hair and checks his surroundings. Suddenly his eyes widen.*
Whothahwhattahawaddawhattawhit? Where am I?! What time is it?!
Doctor SimonWho! Here is another one!
* The Real Me examines CosmicFugitive. As he recalls, CosmicFugitive has not been seen since near the start of the gala pageant. *
Heads that wobble?
Where have YOU been? Are you all right? I guess the rest of us assumed that you had been napping in your room all this time.
* The Real Me looks up at the recently opened dimensional rift through which CF fell. With his special senses, The Real Me can watch reality re-knit itself. That’s odd. Why did that dimensional portal open? Does CosmicFugitive ALSO have super-powers involving dimensional travel? Or did CF fall through the wobbling permanent portal in the boiler room to end up here and now? Or has space-time been stretched too much by The Real Me’s recent activities and by the recent attack of Inola Teg, Eldritch Horror from the Purple Dimension? Are these portals opening spontaneously because space-time is frayed in this location? Concerned, The Real Me quickly goes over the math in his head. No, according to his calculations, The Real Me believes that everything should be fine. He should be able to fold space-time over on itself several more times before such activity produces perceptible strain. Oh, well, better safe than sorry. *
Hey, everybody! I’m going to unfold space-time around the Sereni-TREE. Anybody in the North or South Wings should move their possessions to rooms in the East or West Wings. I think that we’ll still have plenty of room, even with the extra seven brides.
* The Real Me personally checks each and every room in the North and South Wings. Then he closes the doors where those wings connect to the common room. The Real Me takes a deep breath and concentrates. Nobody notices anything strange. Then The Real Me goes to open the door to the North Wing. He steps into the hallway beyond and closes the door behind him. Immediately, the door to the East Wing opens, and The Real Me walks out into the common room. *
Okay, that’s done now. The door to the North Wing will now lead to the East Wing, along with the East Wing door, of course. There is a similar relationship between the West and South Wings. All the wings are really occupying the same space, anyway. Okay, now. What next?
* With CosmicFugitive still in a state of shock and SimonWho nowhere to be seen, The Real Me asks Bride3 and Bride6 to watch after him. Bride6 REALLY seems to like CF's dress!*
The Real Me
(The Real Me cannot currently receive messages from this site; he is not ignoring you. But he CAN receive e-mail at realme@pcibroadband.net.)
NOTIFY: N | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | PERMALINK | TOP | HOME
Quote:
Originally posted by montanagirl:
Thanks for the help TRM! I love my headband/armband/whatever-you-want-to-call-it-band (I'm really going to have to come up with a better name for it), but everything was starting to get fuzzy there for a while. Now he's happily sitting in his glass drinking some Pepsi I gave him. Who knew that he'd like Pepsi too?
Unfortunately, my boots don't actually match my dress. I don't have any grey boots, only black ones. But my black boots are so comfy that I didn't want to take a chance with a new, possibly uncomfortable, pair.
Hey, I haven't seen Mai in a while. Do we need to organize a search party?
Packer fans welcome.
All others tolerated.
You are very welcome. I'm glad you like it. Pepsi? Yes, of course.
* The Real Me makes a note to himself that the black ribbon-things like Pepsi. *
As to the boots, I am clearly not one to offer fashion tips.
As to Mai? Well, I am begining to become concerned, yes. Perhaps we will need to do something soon.
The Real Me
(The Real Me cannot currently receive messages from this site; he is not ignoring you. But he CAN receive e-mail at realme@pcibroadband.net.)
NOTIFY: N | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | PERMALINK | TOP | HOME
* The Real Me rounds a corner and runs into Mal-licious. He bows deeply. *
Quote:
Originally posted by Malicious:
Does this mean I'M Ebo now? Or what? I'm confused. This is like the time Maryanne thought she was Ginger.
Mal-licious
Co-Holder of the Red Bell from Hell
Yes! Exactly like when Maryanne thought she was Ginger. And no, you are not Ebo, you are Mal-licious. But you might want to PRETEND to be Ebo so that Ebo-Mal-licious isn't too terribly shocked.
* The Real Me continues on his way, and runs into someone else. Mal-licious, this time. He bows deeply. Hmmm... The Real Me notices that THIS Mal-licious is holding a red BALL. This must be the Ebo-Mal-licious. The Real Me sighs, and thinks that maybe he shouldn't have fooled poor Ebo. Perhaps PsychicRiver can restore Ebo's memories if he dug down deep enough into her mind. *
The Real Me
(The Real Me cannot currently receive messages from this site; he is not ignoring you. But he CAN receive e-mail at realme@pcibroadband.net.)
NOTIFY: N | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | PERMALINK | TOP | HOME
Quote:
Originally posted by TheRealMe:
Yes! Exactly like when Maryanne thought she was Ginger. And no, you are not Ebo, you are Mal-licious. But you might want to PRETEND to be Ebo so that Ebo-Mal-licious isn't too terribly shocked.
I hate to have to tell you this, but just BEING me is shock enough.
Mal-licious
Co-Holder of the Red Bell from Hell
NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | PERMALINK | TOP | HOME
* The Real Me continues on his way. He passes SimonWho, who is apparently attempting to resuscitate the Ebo Golem. How odd. It was never alive in the FIRST place! Hmmm… No WONDER our good doctor wasn’t around earlier to help CosmicFugitive. The Real Me moves on. *
* The Real Me pauses while Cozen says some kind words to him. While The Real Me considers what Cozen has said, Cozen speaks briefly to MontanaGirl. By this time, The Real Me has composed his response: *
Actually, Cozen, I have to say that… Cozen?
* But, after making a quick call on his cell phone, Cozen is off, muttering something about not understanding women and wanting to ruin someone’s bum! The Real Me follows. *
Cozen? Cozen, are you…
* But by this time, Cozen has hopped into a chair dangling under a helicopter and is off, singing a strange song about snakes. Hand shielding his eyes against the sun, The Real Me watches Cozen’s helicopter disappear into the distance. *
Huh! What an odd fellow!
The Real Me
(The Real Me cannot currently receive messages from this site; he is not ignoring you. But he CAN receive e-mail at realme@pcibroadband.net.)
NOTIFY: N | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | PERMALINK | TOP | HOME
*Slamming her 42nd shot of PepsiMilk back, twg falls off the stool onto her bum. She quickly tugs her mini down to feign some kind of decency.*
Hrumph
*Trying to pull herself up, she falls down once more. She sniffs the shot glass. Not PepsiMilk, not PepsiMilk.*
wha? That’s...yes, yes, it is, that's vodka...
*Closing her eyes, she once again attempts to stand. She stands. Ignoring the looks from the other blurs in the room, she walks back to the changing screen to get out of this harlot outfit. She steps into her coveralls, laces up her combat boots, and secures her hair in a ponytail. Feeling much more comfortable, she returns to the common room with only a mild headache*
I think those copter guys spilled some mighty fine spirits in my pepsimilk. I can usually handle more than just 42 shots, it must be the combination of Pepsi, milk, and the good drink. Well, I learned my lesson: Never think about past pageants and the entire town laughing at your inability to walk in heels across the Main Street stage.
So, do need me to call up IT and look for Mai?
www.thatweirdgirl.com
NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | PERMALINK | TOP | HOME
* The Real Me claps at ThatWeirdGirl's amazing drinking binge. *
Wow! I haven't seen anybody consume that much booze since... uh... since...
I've NEVER seen anybody put it away like that!
Uh...
Say, is that your Kaylee-complete-with-hearts-and-teddy-bear-patches outfit, or your Ripley-about-to-kick-some-alien-butt outfit?
And I think that it might be a bit premature to call in Inola Teg to hunt for Mai. After all, we haven't failed on our own yet. Remember, the last time Inola Teg graced us with her presence, the entire common room was trashed and Sparky was destroyed. Moreover, several of our fellow Treehouse inhabitants haven't been seen here since that day. Now, I'm not saying she ATE them, mind you.
I'm just sayin'.
Besides, don't we still have the ladies' bizzare dress contest going on?
Okay, I can make a new list now:
Volunteers for the Mai Rescue Party:
Cozen
MontanaGirl
ThatWeirdGirl
TheRealMe
P.S. Say do you really prefer "Tippy"?
The Real Me
(The Real Me cannot currently receive messages from this site; he is not ignoring you. But he CAN receive e-mail at realme@pcibroadband.net.)
NOTIFY: N | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | PERMALINK | TOP | HOME
Quote:
Originally posted by TheRealMe:
Wow! I haven't seen anybody consume that much booze since... uh... since...
Did I tell you about the time back in freshmen year, down in Louisiana, when I won a shot contest at the frat house? Pretty sad if you ask me, a 110lb girl beating all those guys. Shameful.
Quote:
Say, is that your Kaylee-complete-with-hearts-and-teddy-bear-patches outfit, or your Ripley-about-to-kick-some-alien-butt outfit?
Kaylee
Quote:
P.S. Say do you really prefer "Tippy"?
I'm not sure. Still rollin it around. I like the idea and the way it sounds. "TiPpY" See it's kinda fun. I just don't know. I've always been ThatWeirdGirl, Twig, twg. Let's see how it goes.
www.thatweirdgirl.com
NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | PERMALINK | TOP | HOME