Ye New Galactic Bar & Grill & Phong's Head Cantina - After Hours

[Gryphin]

Cost me my job? no, why do you ask?

[Puke]

As Dogscoff leads his rag-tag etherial army against the gates of hell, the ground shakes under the trampling of their charging feet.

smoke billows from the gates as they swing open infront of Dogscoffs phantasmal army. The horde coughs and sputters on the sulfuric fumes, as they pause to gaze inside.

As the vapors clear, there can be seen littered about, countless empty kegs - crushed and tossed aside like so many beer cans. a host of angels and demons (of the feminine variety) writhe about, quite exhausted and unable to do much more than crawl. in the center of the refuse of his own debauchery, puke gazes out at Dogscoff, as he counts his 50,000 minerals.

summoning himself up, Puke projectile vomits fifty-five gallons of wet, sticky, spew upon Dogscoff. Scoff reaches for his mighty war-axe, but the handle is coated with slipery bile, and it flies from his hand. 'Scoff aims and fires his Canon Cannon, but the barrel has been cloged by chunky vomit, and the chamber breaches with a mighty bLast. Dogscoff's white eyes blink, and stare out of his charred and blackened head, as he pulls the pin on one of his Holy Handgrenades.

he counts not to one, not to two, not to four nor five, but exactly to three, which is the number that he has counted to... and as he attempts to throw it, finds that sticky vomit has caused the device to adhere to his hand. The grenade detonates, leaving nothing behind of ghostly 'Scoff, save for his smoking etherial boots.

In a mind-numbingly appauling display of rancid raunchieness, each individual chunk of puke's vomit comes to life as a self contained sentient life-form, and the army of chunklings swarms the remainder of Dogscoff's army. the result is to horrible to describe.

"Growltigga, your will has been done."

[Stone Mill]

Ouch.

Not wanting to dive in headlong into such a foolhardy task as retreiving someone from hell, The King consults someone who has completed the task... Robin Williams.

In "What Dreams May Come" he pulled off the job. But since no one has seen that movie, present company included, we don't know what to do. When questioned, Robin loudly spews offensive nonsequitors with intense body language and sweats massively.

What to do?

[Raging Deadstar]

*Raging Deadstar charges his armies in to the gates of hell only to find dogscoff's smoking boots. He sees the oncoming tide of puke orders his troops to charge. Many are lost in this great battle as RD struggles against the oncoming puke. His broadsword no use he throws it away and pulls out his bagguette and lights it. Swathes of puke ignite into ash on contact as he swings his bagguette heroically and charges head long into the gates of hell. Puke is too busy gloating as Raging Deadstar follows the big sign pointing "Eternal Dammnation!" Charging down slaying any demons in sight with the bagguette and the automatic crossbow he finally reaches ragnaroks prison. He is impaled on the biggest fireborne spire dressed in pink spandex and is trying to fight off flying incarnations of will young who keep trying to rub his crotch and nipples whilst singing to him! Raging Deadstar raises the flaming bagguette and is about to slay the demons and save ragnarok when his phone goes off*

"Hello?"
"But i'm in the middle of saving someone from the depths of hell!"
"Do i get rewarded?"
"YAY"
"So i have to hurry back now?"
"Ok Love you, bye"

*Raging Deadstar shouts over to ragnarok that he has to go because his girlfriend wants him for something really important. Raging Deadstar pulls on the reins of anne widdecomb and gallops back towards the gates of hell, past the still gloating puke and back to the surface where his Girlfriends fully armed baseship is ready to whisk him away for a frollic in a rose petal littered bath!*

Sorry Ragnarok, i'm sure you can suffer some more eternal dammnation until someone else decides to come back for you!

[dogscoff]

Hell, you don't need to bring us back, we're having a whale of a time.

*Ghost-Dogscoff, looking magnificent astride a ghostly psychotic vampire war-penguin, heads the army. The gates of Hell lay before him, guarded by all kinds of unspeakable slavering thingies.

"CHAAAAAAAAAAARRRGE!!!!!"

[dogscoff]

What happens when a ghost dies in hell? Where is there left to go to?

*Ghost dogscoff is about to find out...

He opens his eyes, only to discover that everything is extremely dark. It feels as though he's floating in space, and he is pleasantly surprised to find that he doesn't have a hangover. All around he can hear a constant, regular booming. He moves his arms to try to feel what's around him, but something feels wrong. Only when he touches his own body does he realise that his arms are extremely short. This is infuriating! He has to get out of here, find Puke and visit sweet, agonising revenge upon the disgusting walking stain.

He reaches out once more, and this time feels some sort of rope. He follows the rope back to it's source, only to find that it's attached to himself.

At the bellybutton.

Having already used all the afterlifes in dogscoff's limited knowledge of different belief systems, all that's left is re-incarnation.

Foetus-dogscoff kicks his partially-developped legs in frustration. Puke, I'm going to get born, and then when I grow up I'm going to fkn kill you...

[ March 19, 2003, 16:37: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[Puke]

I motion to lock and retire this thread, and open up:

Ye Newest Galaxy Traveling Bar & Grill & Mobile Cantina! (as named by Taz)

See you all on the flip side.

[Kamog]

Originally posted by Puke:
I motion to lock and retire this thread, and open up:

Ye Newest Galaxy Traveling Bar & Grill & Mobile Cantina! (as named by Taz)

See you all on the flip side.

Sounds good! I second the motion.

[mac5732]

looks like its time for another poll

[mlmbd]

Another poll? So, are we going to get dancers?

mlmbd