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FB: No battles tonight
Larlar
consecutive normal brunchesModerator, ClubPA Mod Emeritus
consecutive normal brunchesModerator, ClubPA Mod Emeritus
Both Aneurhythmia and Knob failed to submit anything. Feel free to wait for them to go home, then jump out from behind a bush and pee in their hair.
Here are the entries that actually appeared:
Monkeybomb
Butler
This battle is spoilered for your convenience.
tl;dr version for Synthetic Orange:
Here are the entries that actually appeared:
Monkeybomb
Butler
This battle is spoilered for your convenience.
Tycho posted the following story on the front page of Penny Arcade early this morning. However, it was taken down almost immediately after at my request. Upon my shoulders rest certain responsibilities that are vital to the proper functioning of the Universe at large, responsibilities that this tale only hints at. The overwhelming publicity that such broad exposure would bring would the proper fulfillment of my duties extremely difficult.
However, as we all know, only a tiny fraction of the people who come to this website visit the forums; and I am not above taking a more reasonable risk in posting it here if it means winning a Forum Battle. With that, I give you...
However, as we all know, only a tiny fraction of the people who come to this website visit the forums; and I am not above taking a more reasonable risk in posting it here if it means winning a Forum Battle. With that, I give you...
CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE FUNKY KIND
A True Story by Tycho Brahe
This morning, I took Elliot on a walk through the Washington Park Arboretum. Brenna had had her hands pretty full with him lately and needed some time to herself; So, I had acquiesced to take him out for the day, and she had gone off to a salon to get expensive things done to her cuticles.
Of the arboretum there is not much to be said, other than that it was a pleasant day for an outing and, well, we sure did see a lot of trees. Elliot seemed to enjoy the whole experience immensely, jiggling enthusiastically in the stroller, filled with the sublime joy brought to him by all sensory stimuli other than diaper rash. Oh, Father dear, he seemed to say as we rounded each curve in the path, look! Stuff!
At around 11:00am, we started to make our way out of the park. Elliot began to make his “jonesing for formula†noises, so I paused by a bench to oblige him. I sat down, reached into the pouch on the back of the stroller, pulled out his bottle, and offered it to a pair of greedily clutching hands that were no longer there.
Elliot had vanished.
Staring into the abruptly empty seat, I froze for exactly one second. How to convey the feeling to those of you who are not parents? Try this: think of the last time you realised you had lost something very important to you, say your wallet. Now imagine how it would feel if you had lost, simultaneously, the wallets of every person who has ever lived ever, and they all knew it was your fault and were armed with shuriken, except for your wife who had poison laced shuriken. You’ll still be several orders of magnitude short of the real thing, but you can perhaps understand my compulsion in that moment to melt into a pool of Lovecraftian dread.
Then I heard a very familiar gurgle – but this noise only prompted the strangling horror I had felt to take a firmer grip.
The sound had come from directly above my head.
Time slowed to standstill. Birds halted in mid flight. I looked up…
A nightmare in the shape of a man floated in the air, three or four feet above my head. Two baleful pink orbs glistened mockery at me from within the writhing mass of dark shapes that formed its body. The thing was pure living hell – just looking at it nearly wrenched my eyes from their sockets.
Despite the agony it caused me, I forced myself to stare at it one second longer, one second longer, until finally I caught a glimpse of a leg in a blue jumpsuit. As if feeling my gaze upon him, Elliot’s voice cried out then, and in rhythm with his bleatings a name suddenly slid against my eardrums like a gob of welling pus: Aneurhythmia. Aneurhythmia. Aneurhythmia.
“Give me back my son, you dick-shitting fuck goblin!†I tried to climb up on the bench and leap up to grab him, but he slid out of my hands like greased soap. I fell heavily to the earth, winding myself badly. The thing that had Elliot – Aneurhythmia – floated down to hover just slightly above the ground in front of me.
“Jeremy,†it slithered. The very sound of its voice made my stomach heave. “I do not want this creature.†It held Elliot out by his legs at the end of an arm seemingly made of bats and boiling tar. “But you do. And you have something I do want.â€
It loomed closer. “Your lexicon. All those pretty pretty little words that you stuff into your fat melon head. Your wit, humour and eloquence. Give them to me and this pathetic maggot lives.â€
I tried to stand but found my legs paralysed. Tears of rage blurred my vision. “Fine. Take them. Just spare his life.â€
The pink orbs in its head glowed bright with glee as its other arm reached out towards me. The world began to grow dark, like the moon was falling. I felt my mind stretching, stretching, stretching towards its breaking point as a part of it was ripped out of me. I clutched at memories – Elliot’s laugh, Brenna’s hand on my arm, Mike hunched over a tablet at 2:00am. I held them close to me and hung on tight.
“That won’t be necessary.â€
A man’s voice came from behind me. Aneurhythmia withdrew its hand and I slumped to the ground, shuddering uncontrollably. I remained conscious, however.
“Butler,†snarled Aneurhythmia. “You fool. You can’t stop me. Against my power you are but a gnat in a hurricane.â€
I could only just lift my head. I turned it to watch the newcomer as he came towards us. He was a tall, handsome man in a smart lemon yellow suit and black patent leather shoes. His head was unusually high-domed and completely bald save for a luxurious moustache. His entire appearance was one of ageless style. He stopped about two feet from my left shoulder and smiled placidly at Aneurhythmia.
“Now, now, Annie,†he chided, wagging an index finger. “You should know by now that it isn’t my power you need concern yourself with.†He reached into his jacket and withdrew from an inner pocket what looked like a pale brown hen’s egg.
“For I am but a vessel for a far greater force.†He raised the egg above his head. Aneurhythmia seemed to recoil as the air seethed with a tremendous energy.
“I am a gateway into this dimension – a gateway to a universe of pure… FUNK!†He crushed the egg in his fist and the world exploded with light.
“AAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOWWWW!â€
From out of nowhere, a drumbeat and a baseline started playing. The glare vanished as quickly as it had come.
“No!†shouted Aneurhythmia. “Impossible!â€
Blinking, I looked up. Butler had vanished. In his place – and his suit – was…
“Holy fucking balls,†I whispered. “Michael Jackson!â€
And it was. Michael Jackson, only black, and young, like he’d just stepped off the cover of “Off the Wallâ€. He looked down at me and smiled, revealing two rows of perfectly white teeth.
“Don’t worry,†he said gently. “Your son’s gonna be just fine. This won’t take long.†His gaze returned to Aneurhythmia, his smile growing wider. Holding his hands down by his sides, he started snapping his fingers in time with the mysterious beat. Suddenly an entire invisible band kicked into gear, and I realized I was listening to the opening bars of “Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough.†Michael started to sing:
“This party’s over,
Ain’t no escapin’ now,
I’ll make you want to die
My groove will show you howâ€
Still clutching Elliot, Aneurhythmia sank until his feet touched the Earth. He moaned and took a step backwards as Michael advanced upon him.
“You ain’t got rhythm
And you sure ain’t got rhyme
I’m gonna kill you bitch – ohhh, kill you bitch,
Permanently this timeâ€
“Give up
or I’m a fuck you up
Your face and balls are fresh outta luckâ€
“Give up
or I’m a fuck you up
Your face and balls are fresh outta luckâ€
Aneurhythmia sank to his knees. Acrid smoke rose from his shoulders and Elliot started to cry. Feeling began to return to my legs, and I grabbed on to the bench and hauled myself upright. Michael – and the chorus – moved relentlessly onward.
“Give up
or I’m a fuck you up
Your face and balls are fresh outta luckâ€
Two balls of multicoloured light began to form around Michael’s hands. I staggered forwards. My mind, I admit, was not completely clear, and I had no idea what in the hell was going on – but someone had taken my son from me, and I was damned if I was going to let that state of affairs continue. Elliot, red faced and snot-nosed, saw me coming and stretched his arms out to me.
“Give up
or I’m a fuck you up -â€
The invisible band suddenly stopped.
“Worm,†sneered Aneurhythmia as I faced him, “You dare approach me? I, who am older than the phantom you call God? Your doom is sealed. There is nothing in your bloated vocabulary that can save you n-â€
I grabbed the back of his head and slammed his face into my upraised knee. “Patella,†I said, and gripping the back of his jumpsuit I snatched Elliot out of his grip.
“- Your face and balls are fresh outta luck.â€
Clutching Elliot to my chest, I leapt out of the way. The band returned, soaring into an instrumental break as a colossal rainbow erupted out of Michael’s hands. The beam thundered right into the crotch of Aneurhythmia, who let one final enraged screech before erupting in a fountain of soggy leather and mucous.
“AAAAOOOOOOW!†said Michael.
There was a moment of silence after the last clods splatted to earth. I looked down at Elliot. He gurgled happily, grabbing at my glasses, and I let him take them.
I turned to Michael Jackson, who stood facing me with his hands in his pockets. “How did you… I mean, you can’t really be…â€
He shook his head and gave a small, sad smile. “No, I’m not Michael Jackson. Not quite. But when Michael was at the zenith of his powers he was incredibly strong with the Funk. Maybe the strongest there’s ever been. I am the impression he left upon the Funk.â€
I glanced at the small, wet crater in the ground beside us. “And him?â€
“Aneurhythmia is – was – a very old parasite. He wandered from universe to universe, feeding upon the abilities of others, but had no real talents of his own. I’m glad you grabbed your son when you did. You allowed me to use the full extent of my power and destroy him once and for all.â€
“I should be thanking you. I… I honestly don’t know what to say.â€
Michael laughed. “Thank Butler. He’s the one who summoned me.†Suddenly he bent over and winced. “I can’t remain here much longer. I must return to the Funk, before I fade out of existence like Leo Sayer.â€
“No, wait! Where are you going? What will I do if I ever need you again?â€
“I’m always around,†he said, smiling one last time. “Every time you grab your crotch and scream, I’ll be there.â€
Clouds of steam shot out of the neck and cuffs of the suit. When they cleared, Michael Jackson had vanished and the mysterious, handsome stranger he had referred to as “Butler†was back in his place.
“Who…?†I began, but Butler just winked and raised one finger to his lips. With the other hand he reached into his jacket and pulled out a second egg, which he hurled at his feet. There was a bang, and a flash of light…
A jogger dropped an empty bottle into a nearby bin. I looked up with a start. I was slumped over the back of the stroller, inside which Elliot was safely tucked. My glasses were back on my head.
Blinking groggily, I reached into the back pocket of the stroller for Elliot's bottle. Had I really dreamed the whole thing? I hadstayed up pretty late playing Wii Bowling last night…
The bottle wasn’t in there. I must have already given it to him. I leaned over to check on him and did an honest-to-God double take.
Elliot was happily sucking away on his bottle. But on his right hand was a single white glove that most definitely had not been there before.
I looked closer. On the back of the glove was a cluster of rhinestones in the shape of an egg.
THE END
A True Story by Tycho Brahe
This morning, I took Elliot on a walk through the Washington Park Arboretum. Brenna had had her hands pretty full with him lately and needed some time to herself; So, I had acquiesced to take him out for the day, and she had gone off to a salon to get expensive things done to her cuticles.
Of the arboretum there is not much to be said, other than that it was a pleasant day for an outing and, well, we sure did see a lot of trees. Elliot seemed to enjoy the whole experience immensely, jiggling enthusiastically in the stroller, filled with the sublime joy brought to him by all sensory stimuli other than diaper rash. Oh, Father dear, he seemed to say as we rounded each curve in the path, look! Stuff!
At around 11:00am, we started to make our way out of the park. Elliot began to make his “jonesing for formula†noises, so I paused by a bench to oblige him. I sat down, reached into the pouch on the back of the stroller, pulled out his bottle, and offered it to a pair of greedily clutching hands that were no longer there.
Elliot had vanished.
Staring into the abruptly empty seat, I froze for exactly one second. How to convey the feeling to those of you who are not parents? Try this: think of the last time you realised you had lost something very important to you, say your wallet. Now imagine how it would feel if you had lost, simultaneously, the wallets of every person who has ever lived ever, and they all knew it was your fault and were armed with shuriken, except for your wife who had poison laced shuriken. You’ll still be several orders of magnitude short of the real thing, but you can perhaps understand my compulsion in that moment to melt into a pool of Lovecraftian dread.
Then I heard a very familiar gurgle – but this noise only prompted the strangling horror I had felt to take a firmer grip.
The sound had come from directly above my head.
Time slowed to standstill. Birds halted in mid flight. I looked up…
A nightmare in the shape of a man floated in the air, three or four feet above my head. Two baleful pink orbs glistened mockery at me from within the writhing mass of dark shapes that formed its body. The thing was pure living hell – just looking at it nearly wrenched my eyes from their sockets.
Despite the agony it caused me, I forced myself to stare at it one second longer, one second longer, until finally I caught a glimpse of a leg in a blue jumpsuit. As if feeling my gaze upon him, Elliot’s voice cried out then, and in rhythm with his bleatings a name suddenly slid against my eardrums like a gob of welling pus: Aneurhythmia. Aneurhythmia. Aneurhythmia.
“Give me back my son, you dick-shitting fuck goblin!†I tried to climb up on the bench and leap up to grab him, but he slid out of my hands like greased soap. I fell heavily to the earth, winding myself badly. The thing that had Elliot – Aneurhythmia – floated down to hover just slightly above the ground in front of me.
“Jeremy,†it slithered. The very sound of its voice made my stomach heave. “I do not want this creature.†It held Elliot out by his legs at the end of an arm seemingly made of bats and boiling tar. “But you do. And you have something I do want.â€
It loomed closer. “Your lexicon. All those pretty pretty little words that you stuff into your fat melon head. Your wit, humour and eloquence. Give them to me and this pathetic maggot lives.â€
I tried to stand but found my legs paralysed. Tears of rage blurred my vision. “Fine. Take them. Just spare his life.â€
The pink orbs in its head glowed bright with glee as its other arm reached out towards me. The world began to grow dark, like the moon was falling. I felt my mind stretching, stretching, stretching towards its breaking point as a part of it was ripped out of me. I clutched at memories – Elliot’s laugh, Brenna’s hand on my arm, Mike hunched over a tablet at 2:00am. I held them close to me and hung on tight.
“That won’t be necessary.â€
A man’s voice came from behind me. Aneurhythmia withdrew its hand and I slumped to the ground, shuddering uncontrollably. I remained conscious, however.
“Butler,†snarled Aneurhythmia. “You fool. You can’t stop me. Against my power you are but a gnat in a hurricane.â€
I could only just lift my head. I turned it to watch the newcomer as he came towards us. He was a tall, handsome man in a smart lemon yellow suit and black patent leather shoes. His head was unusually high-domed and completely bald save for a luxurious moustache. His entire appearance was one of ageless style. He stopped about two feet from my left shoulder and smiled placidly at Aneurhythmia.
“Now, now, Annie,†he chided, wagging an index finger. “You should know by now that it isn’t my power you need concern yourself with.†He reached into his jacket and withdrew from an inner pocket what looked like a pale brown hen’s egg.
“For I am but a vessel for a far greater force.†He raised the egg above his head. Aneurhythmia seemed to recoil as the air seethed with a tremendous energy.
“I am a gateway into this dimension – a gateway to a universe of pure… FUNK!†He crushed the egg in his fist and the world exploded with light.
“AAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOWWWW!â€
From out of nowhere, a drumbeat and a baseline started playing. The glare vanished as quickly as it had come.
“No!†shouted Aneurhythmia. “Impossible!â€
Blinking, I looked up. Butler had vanished. In his place – and his suit – was…
“Holy fucking balls,†I whispered. “Michael Jackson!â€
And it was. Michael Jackson, only black, and young, like he’d just stepped off the cover of “Off the Wallâ€. He looked down at me and smiled, revealing two rows of perfectly white teeth.
“Don’t worry,†he said gently. “Your son’s gonna be just fine. This won’t take long.†His gaze returned to Aneurhythmia, his smile growing wider. Holding his hands down by his sides, he started snapping his fingers in time with the mysterious beat. Suddenly an entire invisible band kicked into gear, and I realized I was listening to the opening bars of “Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough.†Michael started to sing:
“This party’s over,
Ain’t no escapin’ now,
I’ll make you want to die
My groove will show you howâ€
Still clutching Elliot, Aneurhythmia sank until his feet touched the Earth. He moaned and took a step backwards as Michael advanced upon him.
“You ain’t got rhythm
And you sure ain’t got rhyme
I’m gonna kill you bitch – ohhh, kill you bitch,
Permanently this timeâ€
“Give up
or I’m a fuck you up
Your face and balls are fresh outta luckâ€
“Give up
or I’m a fuck you up
Your face and balls are fresh outta luckâ€
Aneurhythmia sank to his knees. Acrid smoke rose from his shoulders and Elliot started to cry. Feeling began to return to my legs, and I grabbed on to the bench and hauled myself upright. Michael – and the chorus – moved relentlessly onward.
“Give up
or I’m a fuck you up
Your face and balls are fresh outta luckâ€
Two balls of multicoloured light began to form around Michael’s hands. I staggered forwards. My mind, I admit, was not completely clear, and I had no idea what in the hell was going on – but someone had taken my son from me, and I was damned if I was going to let that state of affairs continue. Elliot, red faced and snot-nosed, saw me coming and stretched his arms out to me.
“Give up
or I’m a fuck you up -â€
The invisible band suddenly stopped.
“Worm,†sneered Aneurhythmia as I faced him, “You dare approach me? I, who am older than the phantom you call God? Your doom is sealed. There is nothing in your bloated vocabulary that can save you n-â€
I grabbed the back of his head and slammed his face into my upraised knee. “Patella,†I said, and gripping the back of his jumpsuit I snatched Elliot out of his grip.
“- Your face and balls are fresh outta luck.â€
Clutching Elliot to my chest, I leapt out of the way. The band returned, soaring into an instrumental break as a colossal rainbow erupted out of Michael’s hands. The beam thundered right into the crotch of Aneurhythmia, who let one final enraged screech before erupting in a fountain of soggy leather and mucous.
“AAAAOOOOOOW!†said Michael.
There was a moment of silence after the last clods splatted to earth. I looked down at Elliot. He gurgled happily, grabbing at my glasses, and I let him take them.
I turned to Michael Jackson, who stood facing me with his hands in his pockets. “How did you… I mean, you can’t really be…â€
He shook his head and gave a small, sad smile. “No, I’m not Michael Jackson. Not quite. But when Michael was at the zenith of his powers he was incredibly strong with the Funk. Maybe the strongest there’s ever been. I am the impression he left upon the Funk.â€
I glanced at the small, wet crater in the ground beside us. “And him?â€
“Aneurhythmia is – was – a very old parasite. He wandered from universe to universe, feeding upon the abilities of others, but had no real talents of his own. I’m glad you grabbed your son when you did. You allowed me to use the full extent of my power and destroy him once and for all.â€
“I should be thanking you. I… I honestly don’t know what to say.â€
Michael laughed. “Thank Butler. He’s the one who summoned me.†Suddenly he bent over and winced. “I can’t remain here much longer. I must return to the Funk, before I fade out of existence like Leo Sayer.â€
“No, wait! Where are you going? What will I do if I ever need you again?â€
“I’m always around,†he said, smiling one last time. “Every time you grab your crotch and scream, I’ll be there.â€
Clouds of steam shot out of the neck and cuffs of the suit. When they cleared, Michael Jackson had vanished and the mysterious, handsome stranger he had referred to as “Butler†was back in his place.
“Who…?†I began, but Butler just winked and raised one finger to his lips. With the other hand he reached into his jacket and pulled out a second egg, which he hurled at his feet. There was a bang, and a flash of light…
A jogger dropped an empty bottle into a nearby bin. I looked up with a start. I was slumped over the back of the stroller, inside which Elliot was safely tucked. My glasses were back on my head.
Blinking groggily, I reached into the back pocket of the stroller for Elliot's bottle. Had I really dreamed the whole thing? I hadstayed up pretty late playing Wii Bowling last night…
The bottle wasn’t in there. I must have already given it to him. I leaned over to check on him and did an honest-to-God double take.
Elliot was happily sucking away on his bottle. But on his right hand was a single white glove that most definitely had not been there before.
I looked closer. On the back of the glove was a cluster of rhinestones in the shape of an egg.
THE END
tl;dr version for Synthetic Orange:
Awesome stuff happens and then you vote for me.
Larlar on
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I helped with that submission 8-)
i think i might not hate you
this is a beautiful thing
like, oh hey, he stole that from a professional site with paid professionals doing professional things
he has a suit and a tie and a tophat and everything
i love him
:hairy man-hugs:
I am really stumped for what to do for Lord Dave now. I have exactly one idea left, and it's terrible.
t Whippy: I just wiki'd that game and now I want to play it too.
ye bastids
I mean
Knob
Knob didn't submit
THE CURSE OF MONKEYBOMB
Credits:
mully
Rock Band DLC | GW:OttW - arrcd | WLD - Thortar
(Actually, I should be working on a project for uni right now...)
giant ham hands
mash the buttons to request a dialing wand
srsly though it was great
you beat me WHEN I WASNT SUPPOSED TO BATTLE YOU AT ALL
and then you do this shit
JordynNolz.com <- All my blogs (Shepard, Wasted, J'onn, DCAU) are here now!
What're you doing later?
Eh, even if you'd explicitly said "Fuck this, I'm not going to submit", I was far enough along that I probably still would have finished what I was doing anyway, so no harm no foul. Now let's forget our troubles with a big steaming bowl of robococks.
(guys working on forum battles even when you know the other person is going to drop is okay because if it is good it wins you Internet Respect)
Obscure fact: David Cohen (I believe) wanted all their Simpsons operator gags to sound authentic so they found the old lady who actually does the voice and asked her to do that stuff for them.
Remember when we were at the arcade in that pizza place playing the Simpsons game?
And I made a comment talking about Brock Kentman, and everyone thought I was stupid, thinking I meant Kent Brockman?
Yeah.
I was making a reference so obscure even you, you, didn't get it.
the quote is a link
Hey I spent four years watching the simpsons, not reading comics.
Plus, his real name is Kenny Brockelstein.