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Hmmm, let's try and steer this thread away from any further in-depth analysis of homo-eroticism as it applies to Captain Picard.
Anyway, it is far more fun abusing Texans (or Texifornians) as (a) you cannot help but have tons of ammunition, (b) it is so easy and (c) they tend to over react in such an amusing manner. Lord knows, the next thing that will happen is that you will make a "good ol' boy" president. Such an idiot would even choke on a pretzel.... What am I saying, this is all a horrible nightmare! |
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Sure, abusing Texans is fun, but abusing Cumbrians is even better.
You wouldn't get this sort of verbose exchange if Star Trek was exclusively crewed by Cumbrians. It would be more like the following: Picard: counsellor, you are looking troubled. Is that pesky Romulan ambassador trying to mind rape you? Counsellor: baaah baaaaahhh baaahhhh baahhh baaahh Picard: counsellor, have you brushed your fleece a different way? you look ravishing Counsellor: baaaahh baah baaah Picard: ooh, you sexy little ovoid, come here right now Counsellor: bahh baaaaaah baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh The truth is out there. Come to Carlisle, where men are real men (if hairy, inbred and liking folk music), women are completely bored off their heads on a Saturday night and the sheep live in terror. |
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oh my god. i may even become religious so as to have credibility when invoking the name of a deity like that. you guys slay me.
*puke eats some popcorn, and watches the taunts play out. Elsewhere, there is a rowdy table of skunkupines waving lone-star-state flags and drinking Shiner Bock. Three of them are having Tecate* |
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Renegade, also watching the verbal barrage, decides to intercede slightly...
Rising from his slumbering position, Renegade grabs a handy sheep and thrusts it at RD, then grabs a goat and shoves it towards GT. After all, they're both Brits...and if one likes animals, the other must as well, right?? Immediately thereafter, Renegade turns his back, so as not to witness the unspeakable things being done to the poor, innocent animals... http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/image...es/redface.gif http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/image...es/redface.gif |
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you know, when i was a kid i had this neat boardgame with tigers and goats, that played kinda like Go....
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RD hands the sheep back over to Renegade
"Sir, you appear to have misplaced your livestock. You should take more responsibility over the whereabouts of your significant other." http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/smirk.gif With that he removes himself far into the corners of the Cantina, expecting GT To rain vengeance most foul upon Renegade |
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Well, I always did like a nice rack of lamb... http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/image...ies/tongue.gif
Renegade vaults nimbly into the rafters, hoping to avoid the wrath of GT. If he can't be found, he can't be pummelled into a bloody pulp! |
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Renegade 13 is slammed off his perch in the rafters by 40kg of well aimed goat chucked at him by Growltiger.
Look you idiot, I am a tiger and I EAT goats... but I am currently watching my weight. Anyhow, we have done all sorts of sordid things in this cantina, but we have never yet reverted to molesting poor animals, and Raging Deadstar is on strict orders to leave his girlfriends, I mean the flock outside.... Note everybody that he did not disagree that Cumbrian men are hairy, smelly and like folk music. For you Yanks out there, just to make it clear that folk music is even worse than coutnry and western (and that is saying something). Growltiger looks at the dazed Renegade spawled on the floor, picks up the red hot poker hand cannon and turns it to "madras". |
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[i]Noting the Red Hot Poker Cannon in GT's hand Renegade scurries quickly backwards, hoping to delay the horror. Rushing behind the bar, he grabs Puke (who is for some reason starting to mold...) and holds him in defense of the target of the RHPC...
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The whirling mass of Skunkupines, now rejoined by several inebriated members, slowly spins toward the center of the room. The mass begins to contract, tighter and tighter and tighter, then suddenly bursts outward with astonishing force.
Balled-up Skunkupines fly across the room in a chaotic and ricocheting manner. Barbed quills firing off like shrapnel (not unlike recent conversations http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/wink.gif ) fly out in every direction. Several well-aimed quills strike the hindquarters of GrowlTiger, while dozens more that were headed towards Renegade 13 strike the unprepared Puke. Quills lash out in every direction, though it is noted that the flying Skunkupines carefully avoid turning their derrieres in the direction of the lone Cumbrian in the corner. Ed Kolis is grazed by several quills, though dozens more pass through the incorporal Cipher7071. Quills silhouette but apparently completely miss Mac5732. Dogscoff is struck by a dozen or so quills, but is blissfully unaware of his pending pain being passed-out. Atrocities, ever the lightning rod for disaster, appears to recieve the lion's share of the flying quills. ( http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/image...ies/tongue.gif ) The pained, plaintive bleeting of the punctured sheep is heard, though the cause this time is Skunkupine quills and not Cumbrian affections... ( http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/eek.gif ) |
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puke pulls a quill out of himself, and sticks it in Renegade.
"one" puke pulls a quill out of himself, and sticks it in Renegade. "two" ... |
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"Hey, that stings!"
[i]With Puke still sticking gelatinously to his outer garments, poking quills into him, Renegade casually gathers up an ice cube tray, dry ice and a large spoon... "All right, who wants some Puke-sicles? Just give me a few minutes to get him in the tray and frozen http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/evil.gif " |
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eleven. twelve. thirteen. fourteen...
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That was close. Sigh...
Shimmmmerrrrr......fade.......shimmmmerrrr....pop! Reappearing at the corner table with Mac, who is in the company of some rather enticing FBWs, Cipher dials up to approximately 'spectral' and asks: "Mac old buddy, do you suppose you could convince one of these sweet young things to retrieve my drink from the bar? Although I don't seem terribly at risk here, my ale does not share that privelege. I think perhaps in this corner, I may just be able to sneak an occasional sip." |
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A figure with burning red eyes steps out of a shadowy corner behind Mac, carrying Cipher's drink in his right hand and a low, wide glass holding a clear fluid and some ice in his left.
"Here you go. Mac old buddy, remember me? How's Tigga and the rest of the gang?" |
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Ouch, time to turn the red hot poker hand cannon to "Extreme Vindaloo"
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You are a gentleman and a scholar, sir.
Interesting entrance, by the way. A man after my own heart, it would seem. Yet GT doesn't seem quite so glad you're here. Hmmmmm. I think I'll pass on the Puke-cicle. ...which gives me an idea. (dials up to gelatinous and takes a shaky drink). |
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The old wise one, looks up at the foaming drink in Erax's hand, hmmm, "why thank you for the kind drink" replies the older genteelman. As Erax walks away, the wise one, reaches down under the table and opens his mysterious blk bag. He takes out a bottle, pours the foaming liquid into the bottle, seals it, then pulls out an UPS box, puts it in, puts a name tag that says Champagne Immortal on the bottle, writes Erax's address on it and has a FBW take it over to the local UPS and have it shipped http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/image...es/biggrin.gif
Ah Cipher, I shall endeavor to address your request concerning the foxys FBWs and impart upon them your feeling desire. They shall then enlighten you as to their or her's answer. I'm sure that they shall honor your request as a patron of this establishment. The old one watches in amusement as GT readies his disemboweling red hot poker cannon. He smiles, orders his usual and proceeds to watch the demise of those who want to dance with the Tigger Enraged.... http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/eek.gif |
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Thank you Mac, but Erax has mysteriously retrieved my drink already. I see that it is in fact gone from the bar, but how he got it from there to here I cannot say.
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As no one seems to be horribly interesting in the Puke-sicles (no surprise there!), and with Puke continuing his annoying prodding of his person, Renegade sets down the ice cube tray, grabs a beer stein and proceeds to scoop Puke into the large mug. Hastily (so Puke didn't escape) he opened the freezer and quickly shoved Puke into the frosty abyss. Puke's movements begin to slow, the next quill moving continually slower as he strove to insert it into Renegade's flesh.
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Puke pulls the file quill out of himself, and reaches out of the mug towards Renegade... slowly... reaching...
and slam! Renegade closes the door of the freezer. Its dark. Puke blinks. |
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Growltigga pushes a button and a large net drops from the ceiling and pins Black Knyght to the floor, face down and derriere upmost.........
Dialling the hand cannon to "Extreme Phall" (like a vindaloo but much much hotter and inedible), "with mango chutney and extra puppadums", Growltigga walks over with an evil smirk on his handsome feline face.......... "You'll enjoy this Black Knygt, not a lot, but you will enjoy it, and afterwards from necessity you will be so far in that closet you will be in Narnia" |
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Black Knyght gets a gleam in his eye, and responds. "Oh, not tonight, I think" and says the command word "Defense".
High-tech adamantium battle armor begins to engage all around him, unfolding from within its hidden compartments. Soon he is fully encased within his armor, and uses his actuator enhanced strength to snap the restaining net, slowly rise, and face his antagonist. Turning to face the stunned GrowlTiger, he asks " Are you ready to dance, Mr.Kitty?". He then states the word "Offense", and dozens upon dozens of concealed rockets, missiles, lasers, and miniguns emerge from their enclosures. Suddenly, off balance by all the incredible firepower sprouting from his armored suit, Black Knyght begins to stagger first off the the left abit, then suddenly to the right. He catches himself, sways slowly backward and then suddenly lurches forward in a clumsy attempt to regain balance. With a horrendous crash and shocked "Meooooaaaawwww", the enormous mass of metal that is Black Knyght falls on GrowlTiger like a felled Redwood Tree, flattenling him to the floor. Moments go by, and as the smoke clears all that can be seen of GrowlTiger is a frantically twitching tail and one slowly spasming foot.... |
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Unfortunately for BlackKnyght, he has fallen forward onto GT...and GT's instrument of rectal agony fell free onto the floor of the B&G!
Quickly grabbing the Cannon, Renegade trys to "take advantage" of BK's awkward position, only to be thwarted by his armor. Racing off, Renegade grabs an acetylene torch and begins dismembering BK's armor over a certain tender area of BK's anatomy, to allow the RHPHC easier access to do its thing... http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/image...es/redface.gif http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/image...es/redface.gif |
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Suddenly aware of the rising temperatures around his derriere, Black Knyght becomes concerned of a possible fire, and the severe risk of "cook-off" !!!
Calling up an internal systems moniter, Black Knyght activates the fire-suppression system built into his armor. Jets of thick, oxygen-smothering foam, designed to put out fires and rapidly reduce localized temperature spikes, spray back towards the heated aft section of Black Knyght's armor. Renegade 13, caught unawares in his concentrated efforts, is quickly covered in the clingy foam. The suppression system continues to spray the freezing, oxygen-smothering goo until Renegade 13 resembles a poorly constructed snowman...." |
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Growltigga, dazed, confused, battered and now right royally narked, pushes himself out from under Black Knygt whilst he is spraying stuff from his backside on Renegade.
"You nasty little American twerp" says the great cat. Armour doesn't stop me. He pulls out his Swiss Army Knife, pulls out the attachment for adamantine armour and whittles off the bottom portion of the suite whilst said foam deluge is still happening. Snatching the red hot poker hand cannon from Renegage, Growltigga lines up on BK's under garments, dials the cannon to "Ultra Curry (with a hint of lime)" and attacks "Frying tonight" GT yells...... as Black Kyght squeals like a stuck pig (well I guess he is really) and gets a taste of pure fire up his windward passage......... |
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Saxon arrives, dapper as always, and is instantly handed a drink by one of his FBW. The other patrons watch respectfully, knowing that he is here to pick up the cut he is given from the tips the FBW receive. They also know that the FBW will withhold their charms from any who upset “The Big Guy,” so they are as polite as they can manage. For some, this is obviously a challenge.
Saxon nods greetings to the crowd, pleased to receive his deserved respect, as well as pleased he does not need to disembowel that damn T-Rex that was handling parking for so long. With a small gesture, he indicates that complimentary drinks are to be taken to Mac and Growltigga, as well as a towel to clean up the mess that Black Knyght has made. |
Rectal Agony
Renegade stumbles back as the foam coats him thoroughly from head to toe. Feeling the temperature abruptly begin to fall, he sighs in relief, loving the cool respite from the tropical temperatures of the B&G. After all, Renegade grew up in the frigid north of Canada, the flame retardent foam feels like a nice cool spring day of -20.
Slowly moving back to his seat in the shadowy corner, Renegade closes his eye in absolute bliss and enjoys the coolness. |
Explosive mistake
Black Knyght begins to regain his composure and rise after extricating himself from GrowlTiger. Having lost sight of Growltiger, he is unaware of his actions until a breach alert blares it's warning.
Suddenly alert to the actions of GrowlTiger and his efforts to penetrate the aft portion of his armor. Black Knyght attempts to rise. A sudden impact jars him, followed by an odd squealing sound. A split-second too late, the realization of what the sound was hits Black Knyght. GrowlTiger, in his frenzy to get at Black Knyght, drove the Red-Hot Poker Hand Cannon straight into the fuel tank used for the flight jets !!! The squeal was not from Black Knyght, but from the escaping pressurized fuel contained within. An enormous explosion occurs, firing Black Knyght forward, upward, and outward through the roof of the Bar & Grill like a spiraling Roman Candle. GrowlTiger, still holding his Red-Hot Poker Hand Cannon, stands in the ground zero aftermath of his explosive mistake. Deafened by the blast and scorched a charcoal black from head to toe, smoke slowly curling up from sizzled fur and singed whiskers, he blinks twice in stunned silence at what just happened..... |
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Growltigga silent? That is unlikey to be a long lasting condition...
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The old wize one, notices one of the old regulars who has been away from quite some time. He motions a group of the FBWs over and whispers into their ears. They immiediatly surround the Saxon while another pours coins into the jukebox. They then begin to gyrate and grind around, up against, and into poor old Saxon... The Old one waves and raises his glass in toast to another old regular who found his way back home once more......., (after which, he pushes the button on his secret bag which in turn sends electric shocks into Renegades Buttocks ) http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/image...es/biggrin.gif
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Black Kngyt fails to notice that the Curry enhanced poker is actually equipped with rectal heat seekers and directional jets....
Given all the shenigans surrounding his rear end, BK's fudge tunnel is actually glowing incandescently, and he squeals (reference to the stuck pig again) as an aerial poker impales his tender parts and does its best to singe of the leavings of poor bottomly hygiene which BK has around his nether ends........ Skewered like a moth, BK crashes to the ground, unfortunatelly falling rear first just so that the poker gets an additional bit of push..... The squealing can even be heard in Texas (where they think that the Texifornian has pulled a bird again).... Growltigga brushes off the charcoal from his fur, and heads over to the old Moose Kisser and the Stinky One for a well earned pint of Spitfire (no Fokker comes close) (ouch and apologies to any German posters for that tag line) |
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As Black Knyght soars up into the sky from the explosive reaction to GrowlPussyCats reckless and OBSESSIVE anal fixation ( gotta wonder about that...), his sensors notice the enhanced Poker Cannon tracking his flight. He automatically fires of an interceptor missile, which streaks so fast towards it target it's passage through the air causes a sqealing sound to be heard. The interceptor missile strikes and obliterates the hostile in a brief but brutal explosion.
Black Knyght begins to recover control of his unexpected flight with his auxillery flight systems, and puts out the flames with his fire-suppression system. As he descends the squeal of rapidly cooling metal eminates from his robotic chassis until he touches down rather more abruptly than desired. System lights across the board blink in protest. Black Knyght decides to pause here for a bit to allowed the automated repair systems to do their job before heading back to the Bar & Grill.... |
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For those forriners querying terms like "vindaloo", "madras" and "Phaal":
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Curry#British_cuisine |
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Along with the sensory pleasures of solid form, such as enjoying one's ale, occasionally come certain unpleasantries, such as being soiled by fire retardant and rocket exhaust. But I have learned to accept these occurrances philosophically.
Once again becoming incorporal, Cipher allows the bits of foam and soot to drift lightly to the floor. There is also a small splash of undigested ale....sigh. |
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Errrr exactly where is Black Knyght now?
and the "anal fixation" comes from what the red hot poker hand cannon is actually meant to do. It is not as much fun if it is for assaulting someone's nostrils.... For those still wondering about this, the basis for the hand cannon cames from an episode of Blackadder II, where Edmond Blackadder had fallen foul of The Baby Eating Bishop of Bath & Wells who was going to singe the anti-hero's personal parts with a red hot poker for non-payment of a debt (until Blackadder managed to get some leverage for arranging a comprising portrait of said Bishop with Percy). The curry enhancements are courtesy of Viz magazine, and the pleasures of enjoying a "Curry Hell" at the Rupali Curry Restaurant, The Bigg Market, Newcastle Upon Tyne, England. The application of the hand cannon for acts of grotesque violence against Bar & Grill patrons however is all my own. |
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Black Knight, the red hot poker cannon has been around since the cantina was first incorporated, along with all kinds of Sea creatures, lew worshipers and many others. However, GT must like you, as he has not let loose old T-Rex and the killer mongooses on you yet. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/image...es/biggrin.gif Its been a long time since old T-rex and the gooses have gone on a hunt... when you hear the horn and the trumpets, start running http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/eek.gif
In the meanwhile, the old one, sits back, orders his usual from the FBWs, and watches to see if dogscoffs sea creatures show up, if an old fashion hunt will transpire or if the Black Knight or other new members attempt the inner sanctum with the lew worshippers lie in wait (shudder) http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/rant.gif |
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Barry the T-Rex is still outside, the Byzantine horde of killer mongoose are currently building some heavy weaponry
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GT, check your PM at this site
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Mac, checked my PM and reverted to you.
Can I just say on the record that I have never seen anything so disgusting. Please dont send me any more photolinks of you in shorts. I am not strong enough (or old enough for that matter) to cope with images like that. Things like that should be banned by the Geneva Convention. Those legs.....yuk |
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ROTFL
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The old one, looks at his physeeeeck in the mirror, hmmmm, he wonders, I don't see anything wrong with mee.. hahahahahahahaha, http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/image...es/biggrin.gif The furry one must need some real strong glasses..... he was probably dreaming again after drinking some of that yucky English ale..... http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/eek.gif
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No Mac, I was stone cold sober before I saw those piccies. Now I have turned into a commsumate dipsomaniac just to try and get those awful images out of my head......
I will never eat Bratwurst again. |
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the old one, sloshes across the room, after filling his torso with numerous brewskis, he bumps into the computer table near the bar, looks down and says... cool... a slot machine.. he pushes the buttons,... and whooooosh.... the cantina is updated by mistake http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/image...es/biggrin.gif
The old one looks down at the screen, mumbles something about one armed bandit crooks... turns around and sloshes back to his cornor table, calls over a FBW and orders several more brewskis....hic, hic..... |
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Cipher takes a moment of silence to mourn the lost data.
There have been times on days such as Mac is having that I too have experienced data loss, and have since endeavored to keep multiple copies of my own information. Regretably, I have no such backups to offer the cantina... or Mac. |
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Hmmm... The atmosphere seems civil enough for the moment. At least as much so as one could ever expect.
Cipher solidifies, and takes a good drink of his ale. Hmpphhh. Even our British friends would say this ale has become overly warm. Must have been from Black Knight's rockets. (walking to the refrigerator) And yes, they might also object to what I am about to do... (grasps the handle to the freezer) But, I see no help for it other than to add an ice cube. Cipher pops open the freezer door where the mug full of somewhat crystalized Puke is now leaning. SMASH!! The Puke mug falls to the floor, but not without first depositing some portion of its contents into Cipher's mug. Absolutely disgusting. Shimmmmeerrrr... faaade. Smash goes the second mug, leaving a pukey snowball amid a pile of broken glass in a puddle of ale on the floor. |
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Renegade abruptly gets up from his shadowy table in the corner, leaps on his table and starts singing the lyrics to an unfamiliar song. Too bad his singing voice isn't up to the task... http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/eek.gif
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