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Found 54 results

  1. As a kid, I designed a vehicle, driver and power for the M.A.S.K. line of toys (concept on paper, in pencil AND crayon, because I was a creative kiddo), and sent it in to the Kenner Corporation. I received a letter back from them, stating that they would keep it on file, and they appreciated my interest - a stock 'thanks' letter, in other words. Several months later, they released a new toy in the line that was, essentially, my design - right down to the mask's power. The vehicle was named the Iguana (not my name for it, but time has taken the original name from me), and the Mask was Mudslinger. I didn't want any money or anything... but it would have been nice to make at least a passing mention, right? *shrug* Eh, it was a thing, and it's kinda cool to know I made something that a company actually liked enough to build & put out there. I don't want compensation at all - the fact I know I did it is enough for me. I am actually on the cover of a famous magazine. Check out the December 2006 issue of Thrasher Magazine, the one with the collage of pictures towards the bottom. Among them, there is a dillhole grinning like a lunatic wearing a Security shirt... that dillhole is yours truly, at my security job when the Toy Machine company came through during one of their King Of The Road challenges. The parking lot of the offices I guarded had what they called the 'perfect sweet rail', and they were getting pics for the magazine. Being a long time fan of Tony Hawk's Pro Skater, I let 'em do their thing; they were harming no one (except themselves on occasion, when a trick bailed), and they gave me some cool stuff... including a pair of skater socks. Those socks were the most exquisite pieces of footwear I have ever had the pleasure of putting on my feet. I wore them 'til they simply fell apart on me, eighteen years later. My father was a Folk Musician - more 'Kingston Trio', less 'Bob Dylan'. My mother was... heh... *sigh* she was a topless waitress at a burlesque club in Atlanta, back in the late 60's. She insisted they have a topless wedding - NO SHIT. How did I discover this fact? They told me, right? HELL no; my parents were so straight-laced, I didn't get to spend a night at a friend's house until I was 13 years old. A relative, mayhaps? Uh-uh; all of 'em, so tight-assed, they'd swallow a dollar and shit pennies. Nope - I found an old newspaper article from the Atlanta Journal about it, hidden among my mother's clippings and scrapbook stuff, discovered while I was being nosy as a tweenager does. She had already had my half-brothers and sisters, and two of them had children as well (she had me, her last, at 45)... which is why the article about my mother's topless wedding was titled, and I quote: "GEE Grandma - What Big BOOBS You Have!" *chuckling facepalm* During my fourth grade Arts class, our teacher had brought in a batch of paste buckets; Elmer's School Paste. There were about eight little pails in all (I think, this was a loooooooooong time back... like, the 80's), and he was so pleased he was finally able to let us glue things, like construction paper projects. As I grabbed one before everyone else did, I noticed a very light, minty smell coming from it when I opened it up. Natch, I decided that tasting was believing, so I tried it. It was... strangely delicious. So, as a conniving little bastard, I hid my bucket behind the supply cabinet at the back of the classroom. Over the course of that whole school year, I ate that entire bucket of paste... sneaking back for a quick dip from it, hiding it under my chair during art lectures to snack on, such and so forth. Consider that for a moment: an ENTIRE. QUART. PAIL. Of PASTE. *chuckleblush* Eeyup... I was the weird kid. Hands down. I had a bicycle accident at the age of fifteen that ruined my teeth permanently, ground flesh off of both knees and opened a hole in my own chin that was deep enough to see my own jawbone. The first thing I heard when I came to was the guffawing laughter of the neighborhood bully, who was riding passenger with his mom and just happened to be stopped at the red light. I dragged the bike (bent front wheel) and my own sorry carcass to the pool supply store owned by a friend of the family (Dad's church friends); the guy took one look at me and blanched. I told him I wanted to see how bad it was, and he said that was a bad, BAD idea. I insisted (being a teenager), and so he led me to the bathroom. He stood behind me to make sure I didn't just faint out from the sight. I looked... turned my head to both sides... stared at the hole in my chin and carefully, oh so carefully, I opened and closed my mouth, making it move around the bone itself. It actually didn't hurt at all, honestly. While the family friend was waiting for me to faint, I simply moved my jaw around a bit and said, "cool". He looked at me like he thought I was now concussed. (I wasn't; the doctor confirmed it later.) Eight stitches - to date of this writing, the only time I have ever required poly-thread inside my flesh. ... there's more, sure... but I wanna save something to talk about later, y'know? Still, thanks for your time - I very much appreciate it. - R.
  2. [STORY TIME] "YOU'RE HERE, YOU RIBITTY ASSHOLE! I CAN SMELLLLLLLLL YOUUUUUUUU..!" Argyle Fox looked like poop. He smelled like it too; he'd not changed his pants since finding Myrna Mole and the message across her apron. The message that had led to Argyle's slow, deliberate mental breakdown - and boy, had it been a doozy! First was the crying, followed by the enraged screaming, a little vomiting, then much throwing and smashing of things around the room (where both Rocky and Stevie took their silent leave of the situation), leading to the crying jag again, followed by the very LOUD swearing, then back to the screaming once more, another round of puking... This had gone on for some time; the fox had lost track of such things as minutes, and had no interest in how much time as passing while he raved on and on. When he stopped to take a breath, however... he noticed it wasn't just pouring rain and booming the occasional thunderclap; it was night outside. How long had he pitched his little temper-tantrum? Too long to save himself? To get away? To set up a trap or several? To arm himself with some sort of weapon? He now also noticed how... alone... he was. So he'd began talking to himself. At first. But slowly, the words he spoke went from self-reminders and grumbles, to complaints and creeping paranoia, to all-out lunatic screaming at his imagined (?) opponent. His coat was matted and disheveled, his face lined and haggard, his limbs trembly-wembly and his tail all floofy-fluffed and quivering like nummy grape jelly cubes. He was even beginning to nervously shed his limp red fur in small clumps, leaving little patches of pink on his sorry hide. "DO YOU HEEEEEEEAR MEEEEEEEEE, FUCKAAAAAAAAAA!? I'm gonna EAT... YER... BAAAAAAAAWLS!" He grabbed a nearby chair and, with a grand stomp, smashed a leg off of it, brandishing it like a little club, his crazed, jittery eyes seeking a target that wasn't currently there... unless it was, then Argyle was screwed. But the adrenaline that surged through the fox's brain was now granting him as much bravado as it could - though, to outside witnesses, the stench of his soiled garments threw off the whole intimidation factor; made him look more desperate than dangerous. "You couldn't kill me BEFOOOOOORRRRRRRRE, you HOPPY GREEN FUCK! And you knowWHAT!? Do YOU wanna know WHY I tried to EEEEEEEEAT YOUUUUUUU??? Why would good ol', handsome, charming, elegant old Argyle the Fancy Fox... want to ever EEEEEEEAT YOUUUUU!?!?" The look on his muzzle was one that only a mind stretched to the breaking point and snapped could conceive of making the horror of a maniacal expression on his slightly mouth-foaming mug. "BECAAAUUUUUSE... I'M A FUCKIN' CAAAAAAR-NI-VOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRE!!!!!" Argyle Fox had lost his little mind. Suddenly, there was a clatter from the back of the room, and Argyle swiveled to look. Though there was nothing, the paranoid fox decided there was, and with an incomprehensible scream of inarticulate rage, he charged for that end of the room. Reaching what he thought was... well, who knew?... he began to swing wildly, each solid thump of the chair leg driving the fox more and more to swat harder and harder. He continued to swing until the chair leg broke, and he collapsed onto the floor, panting. It's over it's over hes dead hes fuckin dead no more toad no more toad no more toa- He looked up at his unfortunate target. It had been the body of Mean Myrna Mole, set up in a chair against the wall. She was now an unrecognizable mess, so much gooey-blooey jelly all over the floor, the wall, Argyle, the chair, even the ceiling! The fox's breathing became even more ragged, more frantic as he tottered up from the floor and began stalking his (possibly imaginary) foe. "Myrna... poor Myrna... YOUUUUUU did that, didn't you!? DID NOT YOUUUU!?!? You clever... fucking... TADPOLE!" Something slammed into the back of Argyle's head HARD, and he reeled as he fell to the floor... however, he was far from crippled, as pure fear drove the neurotic fox to spin and twist to face his attacker directly, ready to destroy who or whatever was there. On the floor was Shiny's brain; it had been pulled down from above, and was now sitting there on the floor after having struck the fox. Argyle could almost hear the robot's mechanical laughter, mocking him as he sat there and shook like a leaf in a hurricane. "DON"T YOU LAUGH AT MEEEEEEEEE!!!!!" He gave the brain a vicious kick, sending it careening into the kitchen... and making Argyle howl in pain, as the two longest toes on that foot snapped like twigs. Shiny's brain, after all, was still metal - the fox's toes, however, were most certainly NOT. He sat down and screamed in pain while grabbing his injured foot, mentally assuring himself that there was no way, shape, or form that the situation could get much worse. Then the lights went out. Argyle Fox may have had some pretty nifty night-sight, but he was still as loopy as a bowl of Cheerios - and this new development only further nudged him toward the edge of his sanity, where he already had a feeble grasp, at best. He rose and, favoring his hurt foot, began to hobble his way back to his shiny throne. The throne MY throne I am king here YES I AM king here NO fucking FROG is gonna MAKE a FOOL outta MEEEEEEE... But the throne was occupied. Dinah Squirrel sat in the throne, her eyes wide, cradling her threadbare tail and staring, non-blinking, at Argyle. "You earned this." There was no expression on her face; her vacant stare almost seemed to belie that she wasn't even really here, in a consciousness sense. But that stare was directed FULLY at the haggard-looking fox, and the lack of her blinking threatened to send him over the edge into Gibbering Crazy Town. "Reckoning has come to you, you foxy bastard..." It wasn't angry, nor yelling, nor even pouty - the squirrel's words sounded flat, emotionless... and DEADLY CERTAIN. "... and that reckoning has green skin." "SHUT UUUUUUUUUP!" "You can say you're a big shot... that you're the 'king' around here... but we both know that's a damned lie..." "SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUUUUUUUUP!!!!!" "... we both know what you are, don't we?" He spun on Dinah, murder in his eyes and foam dripping from his muzzle. "I'LL FUCKING END YOUUUUUU!" Dinah smiled sadly. "You ain't shi-" The fox gave a thunderous howl, and jumped at the poor squirrel - but he was struck right in the middle of his tummy by what felt like a miniature Mack truck. He flew backwards at an alarming rate of speed, slamming full-tilt into the wall and feeling (and hearing) his left arm give a sharp snap. Hitting the ground, he wailed in misery and frustration. Looking down at his midsection, he saw a long, wet and webbed footprint, right in the center of his mass. ... webbed... He looked up, and as soon as his eyes locked on the figure standing in front of Dinah and the shiny throne, his ears drooped and his bladder released once more. Big Joe Toad was standing there - big as life and twice as sassy. No longer clad in just a hankerchief and a satchel, Mr. Toad was now wearing a little leather jacket, tiny little froggy shades, little froggy bluejeans and little froggy brass knuckles. All this was topped off with a little froggy eyepatch, sitting neatly over the eye that Argyle himself had popped with a crowbar. His face bore no expression; there would be no negotiation, no pleading, no mercy. No cutesy little plan to bail him out. No lackeys to place between himself and his inevitable end. "MOTHAFUCKAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!" screamed Argyle, flying straight at Big Joe Toad with insanity in his eyes. The toad, moving fluidly as if he were underwater, simply sidestepped the charge, planting a very powerful knee into the fox's ribs. The effort was rewarded with a muffled crack, and Argyle's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets as he gave only the slightest squeak, unable to scream any more than that. Flopping over, Big Joe Toad then brought up his webby foot, placed it on the fox's belly button, and pushed as if he were leaping with all his little might! Argyle FLEW through the room and out the window, coming to a rolling stop on the cold, wet ground. The rain felt like it was made of stones, and seemed to pound down on the fox as he lie there, panting and gasping for air. Slowly, Big Joe Toad opened the door and walked calmly towards the prone fox. His gait even. His expression fathomless. Upon reaching Argyle, he stood over him and stared down, a severe frown creasing his froggy face. "Get up." The anger redoubled on itself, and Argyle launched himself off the ground, headed straight for that froggy bastard's nec- Big Joe Toad brought both fists down on Argyle's shoulders, and the fox felt bones in both sides give way under the hard metal of the toad's brass knuckles. The headbutt simply sent the fox back to the ground, moaning in pain as he tried to wish his world to stop spinning. Big Joe Toad looked down at the waterlogged fox. "Get up." Argyle gave a wet-sounding sob. "Get up." "FFFFFFFFFFFFUCK YOUUUUUUU!!!!!" Argyle leapt up once more, though with his arms hanging limply by his sides, he wasn't exactly certain what he was going to do... but he'd be damned if he wasn't going to try. However, his efforts were completely in vain, as a large green foot slapped him in the muzzle, then held on with a surprisingly firm grip as Argyle's face was shoved down into the mud sideways, the fox feeling mud filling his ear and nostril while the frog's freakishly strong leg pressed down just enough to make the fox's skull bend a bit. Finally, the toad stepped back, taking the weight off his foot. "Get up." Argyle began to cry, great racking sobs that seemed to radiate throughout his entire furry body. "I can't I CAN'T I CANNNNN'T!!!!! You won't FUCKING LET ME!" Argyle covered his muzzle with his paws and cried like the pathetic coward he truly was, and as he sat there in his own urine sobbing like a baby, Dinah came to the doorway and looked out at the two of them. Her stare was still vacant and blank... but now, she wore a small smile. Her gaze came to rest on Argyle, and as the fox looked up, she made sure she had eye contact with him before she spoke. "We all just wanted to live our lives in peace and quiet. In harmony. We didn't want to hurt anyone... anyone at all..." She stepped outside, the rain slicking her fur down. She slowly made her way to where she could stare down at the bastard fox. "... but you had to fuck that up, didn't you shitlips?" Her words had no power in them; she called him the name as if she were reciting poetry from memory for a class. Argyle looked between them both, his breathing now had a reedy, whistling sound to it. "B-but I'm... I-I-I'm a... c-c-carn... I... vore..." Big Joe Toad stepped up and looked down at Argyle once more, the big green face filling the fox's vision. "Get. Up." Argyle, shivering and near-catatonic, let his eyes widen as he stared into the face of his nemesis. "I... c-can't... anym-more..." Big Joe Toad stood up straight, and now his expression changed - a look of hard disappointment settled into the toad's features, and he reached into his jacket's inner pocket. Argyle gave the tiniest of whimpers as he saw the Chrome .44 Revolver slide it's way out, swing though the rainy night, and come to a stop with the barrel pointed directly at the fox's face. Around them both, the other remaining animals had gathered in a circle, watching and waiting for the promise of sweet vengeance to be fulfilled. Taki Turtle had his shell back on, and the smoudlering look he was giving Argyle could have curdled lava. Sherrie Badger was worrying at a patch of Mange as she watched with rapt glee. Stevie The Stork was rubbing his feathered palms together in anticipation, while Rocky The Rabbit held Shiny' brain in his little paws. He didn't want their robot friend to miss out, after all. And Dinah Squirrel now had a wisp of a smile on her lips, watching with anticipation as the fox finally got his comeuppance. Big Joe Toad stood there, staring down at the beaten, bloody and broken form of Argyle The Fancy Fox. He looked right into the fox's eyes and the gaze bore down into his furry soul with that chilling reaper's glare. "Ain't shit." Five shots. Right in his motherfucking face. [THE END] {Da Moral}: Don't fuck with Big Joe Toad.
  3. Sixamidnar

    OH-OH...

    Ummmmm. heh heh... errrr... *sweats nervously* Ummmmmm... i-if anyone should see any... *gulp* p-p-parasprites... just act normal. DO NOT spook them! It would be... uhhhh, 'highly reccommended' that we gather up all the parasprites we can find, and list them HERE; that way, we can try to corral the little pains, and escort them all out of the forums at once. ... and I have NO idea how they got here... ... best of luck!
  4. [STORY TIME] Rain poured down over The Doodleybob Forest, and lightning flashed through the skies above. For three long weeks now, all the little critters had found themselves at the mercy of Argyle Fox, who had loudly and violently taken over as the one in charge around here. With his second-in-command, Mean Myrna Mole, out gathering the "taxes" he'd been charging them all, it was little wonder that the collective animals of the once-lovely forest were now nothing more than pawns, toys... or even food... for the wicked duo. Taki Turtle's pretty shell had been yanked clean off of him, and was now a fancy bathtub for Argyle to bathe in. Taki was left, shivering and homeless, to fend for himself. He'd tried to do what he could to get by, but Mean Myrna had been gleefully making sure that wherever he tried to find a place to sleep, he didn't get anything but a few minutes, at best. Poor Dinah Squirrel had seen Argyle's cruelty first-paw, and had nearly lost her mind from shock. However, it had taken Argyle only a few moments to convince her that, if she didn't bring him as many of her stashed-away acorns as she could, he'd beat down her door and eat her all up! So, with her threadbare tail, she'd given him nut after nut until she not only had NO stored food for the winter... but her tree no longer had any nuts on it at all. Sherrie Badger hadn't been as lucky as the others - Mean Myrna had it in for her from the very get-go. Sherrie was now Myrna's personal servant... and Myrna was unbearably spiteful to her. Sherrie's once-proud coat had dulled and thinned to where she looked as though she had the Mange... and that horrid mole loved every moment she could inflict more suffering as she constantly commanded her to clean, cook, and anything else she could find to keep the poor badger busy. Shiny the Toy Robot had been seen by both Argyle and Myrna as a possible problem in the future, so they dismantled him faster than a Jackrabbit with his tail on fire. They then used the parts of poor Shiny to make a throne fit for a king... yet was sat upon only by that nasty fox and his chump companion. As for Shiny's robotic brain, they had hung it from the ceiling as an ornament... and a warning to any others who might get the foolish idea to rebel. Stevie The Stork hadn't spoken a single word since the night of the infamous sleepover. In fact, he'd hardly slept a wink since then. He had been 'recruited' by that blasted fox as the one to pull the wagon that Argyle preferred to travel in - and it was a HEAVY wagon. Still, Stevie did his very best to make his superiors happy... though, sadly enough, the only thing that made them happy seemed to be making the nerve-racked stork make as many trips across the forest as possible... even if it was for no reason at all. Mr. Puff-Puff Mousie had been eaten by Argyle Fox, mere moments after his bloody victory over his rival - and THAT was what finally broke the spirits of every single critter down in The Doodleybob Forest. Dinah had made him a makeshift grave, where his broken and gnawed skull sat on a rock in the fork of a branch near the top of her tree. Nothing else had been left of him, not even his clothes; Argyle had burped loudly afterwards, and laughed at all the tears the others had shed. Now, as Argyle sat on his shiny throne, he delighted in making his new fool, Rocky The Rabbit, dance for him. The bells on Rocky's cap jangled merrily... but there was no joy in Rocky's eyes. He might have been all grumbly-wumbly before all this happened, but he swore if he got out of this situation, he would NEVER grouse at his friends again... If they survived, that was. The fox languished in his grand chair, smiling to himself as he grabbed another acorn and, smashing it against the arm of his throne, he began to chew idly on it and think about how good life was for him now. He always knew he'd be the one in charge someday... all it took was growing a pair, he thought. He still relished the look on the faces of all the local critters when he proclaimed himself The Doodleybob King; the hate, disbelief and sorrow had led to many, many wonderful dreams of conquest, victory, and eating his opponents with a nice cherry-pepper sauce. Mousie had been kind of scrawny, but the effect it had on the other critters made it SO worthwhile! Now that Myrna was out collecting his 'taxes', she'd be back with their bounty and they would be eating soon. Though, in all honesty, Rocky was looking more and more delicious by the second... and his jokes and dances were wearing thin. The wily fox considered perhaps some hasenpfeffer might be a good meal to end such a lovely day with, and he licked his lips in anticipation. However, that was when the door opened, and Stevie The Stork came in, dragging the wagon behind him as he did. Argyle Fox shouted, "IMBECILE! You'll soil the rug! You also know that you are NOT allowed indoors for ANY reason! I already said I didn't like feathers molting in my home, and I never wi-..." It was at that point, with a stare that bored into Argyle's muzzle, Stevie flipped the wagon on its' side, and out rolled the limp form of Mean Myrna Mole. She landed facedown on the floor, and didn't move a single twitch. Argyle, still trying to figure out what was happening, simply assumed Myrna had gotten into Miss Avery's garden again, and had gorged herself with sweet, juicy grapes. "Myrna!" he huffed, "get up, you lazy louse! Where is the dinner you were supposed to gather from the Doodleybob Forest!? I'm starving, and you were supposed to be here an... a-an hour... ago..." Argyle's words ground to a halt as he saw the blood pooling beneath Myrna's form. Slowly, as if he expected he to jump at him, he turned her over with a paw. Myrna's face was a pulpy mess. There were five large holes there, and all done from an upward angle, so they went down into her body, probably making a royal mess of her insides. Argyle hadn't really done more than taken Myrna as his second-in-command, but he had NOT been prepared for this at all... but when he looked down at her belly, his eyes grew as wide as saucers. There, on her moley apron that she always wore, were two words, written in the mole's own blood... Rocky The Rabbit began to howl with laughter, and Stevie's beak - for the first time since the incident - grinned. And Argyle Fox stood there, trying not to shit himself. ... and failing miserably. [TO BE CONTINUED...]
  5. [STORY TIME] It was a chilly evening in the Doodleybob Forest, and a number of critters were just getting ready for bed... but not Mr. Puff-Puff Mousie. He was getting ready for the slumber party he had been planning all week, and his little whiskers twitched with excitement as he busily prepared for his guests. There was a lettuce leaf he'd been keeping nice and crisp in the river water, and a stray gumdrop he had rescued from the sidewalk, and a big ol' chunk of oozy, gooey apple dropped from a pie, and a whole thimbleful of cheese cracker crumbs. All of these were laid out carefully, ready for Mr. Puff-Puff Mousie's guests to arrive. The first one to arrive at the slumber party was Shiny The Toy Robot, with his oversized gym sock as his sleeping bag. He had also brought some screws to nibble on - but Mr. Puff-Puff Mousie politely declined, as he couldn't eat metal like Shiny could. Next was Dinah Squirrel, and she didn't bring a sleeping bag. "When I lie down, I cover myself with my big, bushy-wushy tail," she explained. She had also brought some acorn cookies, which Mr. Puff-Puff Mousie knew she would share with him. Soon after, Stevie The Stork knocked at the door, with his long and lanky leg. He had a school backpack with him, and he said it was his favorite sleeping bed, so he just brought it along. He had also brought along some fresh cherries from Miss Avery's garden, across the way. They were as big as Mr. Puff-Puff Mousie's whole head! Last, but not least, Big Joe Toad showed up. He had brought an old oven mitt, which fit him perfectly and looked funny, as his big ribbity eyes were all that peeked out of it when he put it on! He hadn't brought any food, but he did bring a big bottle of grape juice. Even picky ol' Rocky The Rabbit, who usually grumbled about everyone, had to admit - Big Joe Toad always had some mighty fine grape juice. Once everyone was there, they all settled around and began to tell ghost stories. Mr. Puff-Puff Mousie told the tale of the big, black snake that lived near the forest, and the others laughed and huddled in their sleeping stuff. Shiny told them a story about a mad scientist, and they squealed in fearful glee. Dinah told a story about the ghost under the Cobble Street Bridge, and she made scary sounds and faces to go with them. But when Stevie started on his own story about a mysterious knocking at the door, they all jumped and shrieked when there really WAS a knock at the door! "I-i-is it a gh-gh-gh-gh-ghost?" Stevie asked as he shivered in fright. "Is i-i-it a m-m-mad scientist?" Dinah squeaked from behind her tail, where she was hiding. "IS IT A BLACK SNAKE?" Shiny said - he didn't shiver because robots don't shiver when they're scared. And Mr. Puff-Puff Mousie was absolutely petrified; he couldn't move a single inch, and his little whiskers jittered and shook with fear. But Big Joe Toad wasn't afraid - not even a little bitty bit! He got up out of his oven mitt and went right to the door, opening it juuuuuuuuust a peek to see who was outside. But that was some dumb shit to do. Into the home of Mr. Puff-Puff barged none other than Mean Myrna Mole and Argyle Fox! They slammed through the doorway, and both of them grabbed Big Joe Toad by his froggy neck. "PAYBACK'S A BITCH, MUTHAFUCKA!" yelled Argyle as he slammed his steel crowbar across the top of Joe's head, smashing his left eye into a pulp. Myrna was busily and rapidly shanking Joe's right side with a long, sharp shard of glass. The other critters screamed as they watched bloody vengeance being served in the most fucked up way possible - by ambushing a toad at a slumber party. Myrna howled with laughter as she twisted the glass shard in his side, and Argyle began to curbstomp his amphibious ass. Stevie The Stork collapsed into a heap in the corner, pissing himself thoroughly. Dinah Squirrel began slowly yanking out the fur in her tail as she watched, and kept muttering gibberish as she watched the carnage unfurl. Shiny simply shut down - but it would take years of corrective programming to fix his roboty soul. And Mr. Puff-Puff Mousie just screamed and screamed and screamed. {Da Moral}: Ain't shit.
  6. Hello! this saga is back! ill share some of the most weird videos i been founding on Youtube hoping i can give you some weird nights. This time the theme are Channels. These Channels are done by artists/lunatics on Youtube, again, i want to clarify that none of those videos have screamers and you can watch them at your own risk 2h32 is a youtuber that makes creepy content, to be honest i haven't watch all the videos but i thought that i may share this with you La pasion is a psychedelic video that i don't recomend to watch it if you have epilepsy Brian is a username that makes amazing animations on 3d, but i reccomend discretion watching some of his jobs Possibly in Michigan is a shortfilm made by Cecelia Condit in 1983, is surreal and is kinda disturbing, i present you a excerpt Scorpion Party is a video where's our antihero Scorpion, is not a scary video but kinda curious
  7. (Warning: LONG - GRAB POPCORN) [PROLOGUE] Widdershins is awesome. I just wanted to start there. There is always a part of each and every one of us that longs to gain approval; whether it be by hook, by crook or by charm; there are rather surprising lengths that someone will go to in order to receive praise, including place oneself in some form of harm, be it physical, social, mental or spiritual. Doing so is a risk, yes - but the reward of a word or two of kind praise or attention is a siren's call that's sweeter than wine when finally given. However... for those with fragile hearts or quick tempers, the risk is the greatest for they are less prepared for something that isn't completely flawless. That... heh, well... that's where I fit in, unfortunately Because there are few things I really have true, heart-felt pride in... but the short list of things I DO swell my ego with? They're like candied poison to me, because each time I hear something good about an accomplishment of mine, I savor it... and inevitably hunger for more. My family of OCs, the Blackwaters, are HIGH on that list of ego-boosting pride treats. Though I try not to brag, I'm afraid I sometimes come off as... weeeeeeell, a bit manic?... about them? Which, I know I know I KNOW just drives folks away, adding what would be considered a negative social score to these characters who I've really worked hard at, and want so badly to share with as many folks as I possibly can. So, in an attempt to perhaps gain a nibblet or two of praise, I decided that I would put them up for a critique from one of the threads made as such; threads where other fellow Ponyites look over your OCs and tell you what they liked and didn't like. And I saw the very thread I was looking for... which happened to be from one of my favorite lurking targets folks here on the forums - Widdershins. I happen to be a wooled-in-the-dye weirdo - I even have cards to prove it. I've been that way for a LONG time, and of almost anyone I've ever interacted with, Widdy-Shinny is one of the few who not only GETS IT... but throws it back with a side order of blueberry turnip fries, hold the motor oil, add anti-freeze. Or, in other words, WS has gone even beyond what I can (at first) comprehend... and that's a heckuva feat. So, when I saw they had a critique thread, I decided to offer them up in all their Blackwater glory, and simply sit back and enjoy what Widdershins would have to say. Eventually, the response came... and, well... the short version is, I didn't take it very well. THE LONG VERSION: I had been rather crushed, spirit-wise, because of how I took it. I didn't even post for the next few days on ANYTHING, because I felt as though I had embarrassed myself. However, eventually I managed to pick myself up out of the self-pity wallow I'd been in, and actually address the problem directly with Widder. Mostly because I KNEW I wasn't exactly angry... but I felt that I had to come clean about how I felt - otherwise, I probably would have simply started ignoring WS altogether, even avoiding them. Which, as I said before, Widdershins is awesome; I HATED the idea of avoiding them at all... much less for good. So, I started a string of PMs with Widdershins, intent at first to simply vent my self-loathing and be done with it. What it turned into was something FAR more than I had expected. It turned into an EXCELLENT way for both of our characters to better explain themselves to those who had no idea who any of them were. I felt that it was a wonderful and highly entertaining moment... and it not only brought me out of my funk, but it taught me some humility, as well as how to look through things to see what are obvious layers - again, because I once knew how. It turned into something I felt I had to share. So, fillies and gentlecolts... here is the entirety of those PMs, starting with the one I sent first, after the critique and the spiritual pouting were done. I dedicate this entire blog entry to Widdershins - a thing among kings. [THREAD BEGINS] Right. First off, I wanna let you know that shortly after your critique on the Blackwaters, I removed their profiles from the EvE database. Why? Because you pointed out a number of things that left me quite disheartened, and I simply couldn't even LOOK at them anymore without feeling shame at how absolutely HORRIBLE you said they were. Now, I DID copy/paste their profiles for saving in my own personal archives, so I wasn't THAT rash, no... yet I still find myself wholly embarrassed by your observations. In fact, it was a bit longer than I'd planned to even reply to The Blackwater Quarry RP simply because I'd felt that they weren't GOOD enough. It was also the reason I never gave any feedback to YOUR feedback - I was mortified. I mean, the response I DID give? THAT was as real as could be; I was so stunned by your words that I simply couldn't reply in a satisfactory manner... so I did what I could, and hoped that would be the end of it. But it isn't. Okay, before I continue, I want you to know that I am, in no way, shape or form angry at you - not a bit. I still follow you, and I've been reading some of your posts as well... and I have no plans to stop following you, as you're STILL one of my Forum favorites. However, I felt the need to actually SPEAK to you (well, message you) about the whole thing personally, and long after my feelings on the matter were calm enough to do so. Truth Time: I actually CRIED after reading the second part of your review; not bawling and sobbing, no, but tears had to be wiped away to finish reading it. I know, I know... I asked for it. I had it coming. And yeah, I suppose my characters WERE rather bad... But that kinda crushed my spirit for a minute - something that hasn't been done to me since my school years. Do understand, I HAVE bounced back from that by now, and I most certainly AM still playing the Blackwaters in their RP; it's a LOT harder to knock me down than it used to be when I was a kid. WHY am I saying all of this now? Well... it took a bit for me to come to grips with it, and it took another bit of a bit to try to focus my thoughts into words... and, frankly, I kinda had the notion that you would either laugh at me for pouring my heart out like this... or simply hate me for it. Honestly, BOTH possibilities scare me, as you DO have my respect; yet, after much consideration, I decided that you were most certainly better than that. Hence, this message. Now, I am NOT asking for you to change ANYTHING; truth, no matter the sting, is truth. I am also NOT asking for an apology... because, as far as I see it, you simply did what I asked of you. I suppose you could simply consider this to be my much-belated response in light of your critique... and perhaps, a bit of closure as well. Thank you once again for your insight into what I had made... even if I took it hard. Widdershins Honey. I'm a bleeding heart as well. In fact, I've bled out so much that I no longer have a heart. Why do you think my draconequusona is hollow inside? Go. Go right now, read the Original Post I made in that critique thread. Close down this PM right now, and go read it. Or come back to it after, alt-tab, wossnames it called, ya know? ...You back now? Or just got impatient and continued reading anyway? Either way, you're adorable. That's what I say. I never want anybeing to feel like what they feel is wrong. I spent a huge portion of my life under the thumb of somebody who gaslit & told me that what I thought took a backseat to their opinions. I assure you, what's important is that it's first & foremost your ideas, efforts & feelings. I don't expect my views to change what you do, in fact, I don't want them to. I am only happy to be your audience. That's what an audience is. We put ourselves in your hands and you guide us along, we entrust our minds & souls to you. Sure, we can balk if we don't like the direction things are going like any pet is at bathtime. You know those two cranky old man muppets that always talked trash about the show the Muppets were putting their heart & souls into? Clearly, they don't mean any harm. After all, if they hated it truly as much as they joke about... they could just easily leave or stop paying attention to the show. But they don't, that trash talk is just how they show their love of what's going on, their love of the actors themselves. If I say that I don't like what you do, that is merely a reflection of how it feels to me. An opinion is not fact, it's merely just how your world becomes distorted as it is viewed through the reality bubble formed around another. Your silence had me concerned. I didn't want you walking away wounded & leaving me with no recompense to assuage whatever conceptions you had come away with. There's things I would consider changing, aspects that have room to grow & become better, but moreso than anything else, I can tell how much time & energy & yourself you put into this. There is no "Bad", alternatively, there is no "Good." How many times have we seen some villain deluded by his own depression to where he can only see one path ahead of him, that what he thinks as the only route is the only way to better not only his life, but the world? How many times have seen a "Hero" fall from grace or do evil in the pursuit of good? Take that Superman movie before last where, in his desperate attempts to prevail, winds up doing just as much collateral damage as the villains. It's your intentions, your feelings that cannot ever be wrong. It is a product of you, the you that has come from a series of events that could have only unraveled the way it has so far. Another author can come after another to do the same story word-for-word, and yet, it would still have its own inflections, tone & feelings. In fact, the same author can come along after to rewrite the same story and have it be like a whole nother being made it while still carrying the same ideas & world. Because it is, a you several years down the road has grown into a whole separate being with its own dreams & wants. You are only ever "wrong" in comparison to other things, which in and of themselves are their own worlds. It is my belief that judging anything, by any extent, is folly. I believe the worst thing I could have said is that they are perhaps a bit too... stereotypical. A trope, I suppose you could call it. But that doesn't mean they are bland. I can see what you've done. The way they came out is a way that only you could ever have done it. What you create & experience is an extension & reflection of yourself. And yes, that is a good thing. Your characters are like your children, they have their own flaws, but extend from you. They, like so very much else in the world can, and always will, have more room to grow. What a horrible lot it would be to not have room to grow & change. Don't censor yourself. Censorship implies shame, shame implies a measurement & judgement in comparison to something else. Do I feel shame for the fact that I cannot literally do anything with my unruly hair? Does that change the millions of years of this world going the way it did to wind up creating something as myself? Or yourself? That hurt me. You deleted your works. I cannot think of anything more sad than an idea having died off or forgotten. Like how much knowledge was lost in the burning of the first Library. Treasure your thoughts, your stories, ideas & feelings, for who can tell when they will be thought again? I don't mind if you hate me. If anything, I would prefer that. I would never tell anybeing their feelings are wrong. What I don't want... is for you to hurt. Can you stand to grow a bit more in certain aspects? Sure, there isn't any shame in growing. And growth, along with living itself, comes with pain. Feeling is the only way you can tell things are real to you, I believe. You have to accept things through your emotions to allow it to happen to you. Denying your capacity to feel for something & refusing to react to it stagnates yourself & prevents growth, prevents you from living & being the you that only you can be. Claiming what you have or feel is "wrong" is denying your reality. Denying your reality is you causing yourself pain and I don't want anyone to hurt. Ever. ...Here... give me your hoof... *picks up your hoof and gently waps you in your face with it* ...Stop hurting yourself, Stop hurting yourself, Stop hurting yourself, Stop hurting.... Randimaxis *chuckle* Okay, okay... I get it. I... actually DID go look it up again. And it took me FAR longer to find it than I'm comfortable admitting to. Reading it over again, after the initial burn was healed (mostly), it stung a lot less than before - of course, there's a lot to be said for the resilience of the human soul - or is it desensitization? Either way, I re-read the entire thing... and I think that perhaps you were a bit less scathing as I first surmised. Of course, there's still a bit of a bite... but it's nothing worse than what I used to get in school. In fact, stuff like this ALWAYS used to happen in school - any given grade - and I had to learn to make myself into a duck's back to let the waterfall of strife roll off of it. But this was different; I really DID put a lot of myself into them... I always do whenever I make a character. I have actually always, ALWAYS been an entertainer at heart, and I suppose when I saw your critique, it... well... Damn it, it just brought much of that ol' hurt tumbling back into my brain-pan. I felt like I'd just stood up in front of the class and gave my report, only to have the TEACHER laugh uproariously in my face... which, yes, HAS happened to me before. (School life was... let's go with 'not fun' for me.) However, though it took me some time to deal with my personal butthurt, I most certainly did. As I said, I'm still running the quarry RP, and I've really started taking a good, LONG look at the family's profiles... mostly because it occurred to me that I kinda sorta left a LOT out. No, I won't harass you about trying to "reaffirm myself by justifying my characters"... even though I really want to, but I don't wanna sound petulant. Oh, by the way, I didn't have to look up maudlin; I know what it means, thanks to M.A.S.H., especially Hawkeye. Unfortunately, I actually tend to have GOBS of shame hanging off of me in fat, bloated ribbons of invisible misery... but that's MY albatross to bear. I'm also one who does their best to keep rampant censorship in check - you'd be stunned by the amount of rather innocuous pictures were censored by staff for something as simple as anthros in bikinis (and THAT picture really had nothing salacious about it; they were just on a beach cavorting happily). Those of sound mind and capable brainpower should really ALL remain vigilant... mostly because people (not persons, people) can be easily misled and herded like... well, you know the analogy, I'm certain. But SELF-censorship? That's always been a difficult arena for me to fight in. Mostly due to being such an entertainer, I really, REALLY get down on myself when I feel I've done a sub-par job of it. My characters are simply another arm of the Cthulhu of Imagination in my skull... and I suppose I'd felt like I'd... well... regardless of your words, I felt like I'd kinda let you down. And to someone who wears their heart on their sleeve, it can mean more than a simple shrug-and-move-along that much of the world seems to be afflicted with today. I'm rambling - forgive me. As to the family's profiles, they aren't completely gone - I've erased so much in anger over my younger years that I regret, I find myself hard-pressed to even let go of characters I KNEW were bollocks on toast. I simply have to work them over a bit more, I suppose; I had originally thought they were fine enough the way they were (changes due to developments in roleplay notwithstanding), so as you pointed out each issue, it was like a shot to the solar plexus. Every time. But Life is a bastard; it beats you mercilessly, then expects you to smile and forge ahead even as it plans MORE for your sorry butt. However, those moments when the light breaks through the clouds... that single, sweet kiss of sunlight on your cheek... well, in my own opinion, those moments are what all of Humanity strive for, whether in vain or not, and they can potentially make it ALL worth the struggle. And the human soul is a persistent, persnickety thing - for me, it has never ALLOWED me to give up, even when I wanted to. Which, I suppose, led me back to you - which is when I sent the first message. Oh, and by the way... YOU may buy that bit about being heartless... but this message you've sent back to me tells me the EXACT OPPOSITE; if you truly were heartless, you wouldn't have cared enough to bother sending it, nor would you have put so much of the healing balm of care and concern in it as you have. For that, I thank you most deeply. And no, as I said, I do not hate you... nor, after this message, could I ever. You talk MILES of tough, but I can see the wounded, yet gentle eye of soulful substance in that much-projected statue of draconequus stone; don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Honestly, I had NO idea what to expect in your response... which, I get the distinct feeling is how you'd prefer it. But the words above have a melody all their own, and the song they sing to me wraps me in the brightest of colors, a song for my soul to echo throughout my personal solar system... I'm... doing it again. Sorry. THANK YOU. Thank you for your initial critique, as it has led to this conversation - I thought you were wild, wacky and exceedingly brilliant before... and now, I feel as though this convo has confirmed it. (My apologies if I'm a bit all over the place; this missive took a few hours to write, due to having two frantically active children and a number of chores to do, amidst the various other things that cast themselves at me on a daily basis.) Ummmm... we... can keep chatting, yes? Widdershins 2649 Replied: July 12 · Report Nyoh. We can never, ever speak ever again! You hath offended with all this talk of Albatros abuse and now I just don't think I can deal with an Albatross Abuser! Honey! You got kids?! One would think you'd be used to whining, whether or not its inside or out of you! Honestly, had you pegged like a fourteen year old. Because, let us be honest here, the whole hatred of yourself & finding your place is a hallmark of teenagerdom. You don't know just how relieved to know I'm not the only one who hasn't grown out of that! I kind of consider a Spirit & a Soul entirely two separate things. One wouldn't refer to Willpower & Free Will as quite the same thing. There's having heart and then there's having heart. I want the best for others, I don't want to see anyone hurt... but I know too well how literally anything can happen, so I tend not to do anything of my own. Still, like to think that as cowardly a pacifist as I may be, I would stand up if anybeing was to get bullied in public in front of me. I've seen too much pain to allow others to invite it into their lives. ...Well, unless we're talking dysfunctional relationships in Rom-Com, then that's just hilarious! Guess I'm a Pacifist Sadist! Ooh, like that one, I'm gonna have to remember that! But back to the topic at claw. I frankly don't remember what I said there. That's how & why I critique. It's my first impressions, me talking about the experience you gave me. And every experience provides more life, I say. Like I was some sort of special, giant changeling leeching off of you. ...Must work on my analogies. Who said they were flawed or bad? That's what I was saying earlier about growth. Take your children. I'm no parent but no doubt you've had your moments where you've thought to yourself if you could just duct tape them down to a chair for once so you could get a bloody minute without having to tend to them... And I know, because I was one of those kids who wanted to see what Car Cigarette Lighters did or what Magnets did to Computor screens to make that funny rainbow or how fun it was to climb on the easily dented car or threw knives at my sister or... If what you do is bad, does not make you less of a person for it. In fact, some thrive on that. (Seriously, go look at some of the first things to come up over on the character lists! Some beautiful examples of clearly intentionally bad!) How many shows are on the television that exist because of some schlubs that are intentionally doing things that give us the sweet release of pointing, laughing & thanking our lucky stars we're not that stupid or unlucky! Comedy since the Three Stooges is built on suffering after all! Pain shouldn't be something you ignore or just let go of. It has every right to be apart of you like every other emotion & experience. It's what added to you to allow you to become what you are today. I like to paraphrase: "Harness your pain, make it useful." I would quote Star Trek too, but I can't remember it now. Like some Ship Captain who's seen his shipmates fall, or befall some tragedy like recovering from Borg brainwashing, you take that into account, it allows you to risk assess, learn to care more for others, treasure life. That's one thing I always bring up. That one Torchwood episode. (Doctor Who spinoff show... not... what I would say as too spectacular but...eh.) Guy gets some alien device lodged in him & becomes a zombie essentially. He talks down a jumper at some point and gives her advice from a guy who's been forced to give up everything, including literally feeling. That when you can wake up to smell coffee or see a new day dawn, that alone is something beautiful to give you something to live on for. Can we even imagine what its like to be completely disconnected? To see yourself stab yourself in the hand, not feel a thing or suffer any consequences other than needing to push the hole closed. It's experiences that let you live. It's something Buddism touches on. Welcome the challenges in your life, they gave you something to live through & become stronger from. Was I hurtful to you? Gosh, I hope not, but I'm not you seeing me do that, I won't deny your feelings. Are there things to fix about those things you've spent a good deal of time into, that you thought whole? Maybe, but that still is just me spouting off. I don't mean to be mean, but I mean to mean to mean it. That's the thing, you can have two people come up to your work of art. It can absolutely exceed the expectations of one who just gushes praise and another can just tell you its garbage and to scrap the whole thing. Really, the only difference between them could be the day they had! (...and, maybe any review is going to get a bit snarkier & critical the longer it goes on...) I try to balance out positives & negatives. That's what I said about Harcourt. I don't like his design or his personality... but if he was in front of me, talking to me, I would hand him my wallet as I swooned like a schoolgirl! No, really! Honestly! Truly! Do justify your characters to me! Defend yourself! I welcome a new experience! ...that I don't have to leave the house for.. *cough* I want to hear how you see the world you made! If nothing else, even if you get mad, I've been yelled at enough times when I'm being a blockhead to where It's gotten kind of funny! I like to think that really, besides me getting to myself about things, the only real way to genuinely insult me, is to say my ideas are dumb & pointless. I've played MMORPGs, its kind of hilarious how quick some may Ignore you to just completely cut you off. I'd like to see you try and keep me from talking to you! Randimaxis Your ideas are dum-... naaaaah. I just can't pull that off the same way YOU can. *chuckle* I was always led to believe that the journey of life was constant; the self-loathing and place-finding aren't steps folks ever REALLY get through - in fact, there's not much that actually ENDS in Life, except for drooling and pooping yourself... which, given enough years, we get back to eventually. ... Pacifadist? Sadifist? There's GOT to be a decent combo-word for that... Children are... well, y'know that tired old saying that it's always "different when they're yours"? Yeah, it's actually true - though I concur, the duct tape thing HAS occurred to me. MULTIPLE times. But as I've come to discover over the years, twine covered in Krazy Glue works just as well... Sorry; parent humor. Yup: Burned a permanent scar into my right first fingerprint with a Car Ciggie Lighter, I didn't kill a monitor - I killed one o' those BIG TV sets that sat on the floor, also due to 'pretty pretty', and I kinda knocked the last two things off that list simultaneously, believe it or not, by throwing the SAME steak knife at the car again and again... ... I'm beginning to think ONE of us is from an alternate dimension, and that we seem to be similar enough to count as distant, only-see-you-at-reunions cousins. Mel Brooks said it best, as far as suffering and comedy go: "Tragedy is when I stub my toe; Comedy is when YOU fall down an open manhole and die." It's all subjective - which, yeah, I should've kept in mind when I read the critique. But then, we never would've had this conversation, so in its' own way, I suppose it was a good thing after all. *grin* And I have to say, I've always been one of those folks who, when asked if there was anything I'd change about my past, I say "nope"; experiences, whether sweet or sour, are the building blocks that help shape the manor house that each one of us is - and to remove even the HARSHEST of these things changes the entire structure. I've dealt with a great deal of sexual abuse (from family 'friends'), bullying (remember that whole school thing?), and I have even... well, let's say that one of my (former) best friends did something to me that NO ONE should do to anybody... but each and every moment of shame and pain is like a reforging of the mettle of one's being. I treasure the fact that I SURVIVED this stuff; there's no way I'd ever trade those victories - and I call them victories because I HAVE survived them. (And I know Torchwood too; been watching The Doctor since Tom Baker held the reins.) You... actually don't mind if I defend them? I mean, I was hesitant to do so simply because I didn't want to seem like I was whining over them, but... well, I can if you feel like you can stand to hear me go on about them for a bit, then mayhaps I could- YOUUUUUUUU!!!!! ...uh-oh. YOU! YOU SLIMY LITTLE DISGRACE TO EQUESTRIA! Mother! NO! Oh, I KNOW your kind! Such a HIGH AND MIGHTY ATTITUDE... how DARE you! You're nothing more than a BIG WORM in the apple of Celestia's EYE, you SNAKE! Get him, Mother! OGLEVY! YOUUUUUU... sitting behind a screen and CARRYING ON as if my fine family were nothing more than BAUBLESfor you to play with! I have seen more intellect in the dirt my servants SCRAPE FROM MY HOOVES! You FOUL, EVILLITTLE TROLL! Mother... honestly, that's quite enough of a display, don't you think? UNFORGIVABLE! INEXCUSABLE! ABSOLUTELY REPREHENSIBLE! ... Vylia. *huff huff* Yes, dear? Enough. But he-... I... OOH! You CAD! ENOUGH. *glowers* I'm not done with you yet, you just keep that in MIND! Uh... well, I suppose they want to defend themselves; you up for that? I mean, if anyone could do so, it'd be the subjects themselves, right? LEMME AT 'EM! DOWN, Oglevy! (I suppose they're literally chomping at the bit to do so...) Widdershins Sadfist: I could totally punch you, but the thought of hurting you makes me so depressed that I give up halfway through every punch. Sadfist totally needs to be an RPG boss! "Ugh... Me really don't wan' tah have to beat you up... I am... dis just not me day to-day..." Huh... Pointer finger?... Same hand too... Well, If I haaad any wibbly, weird fing-things that is! Honey Boo-Boo-Pants! This is the Internet! You'd be the oddball-out if you weren't whining like a gigantic man-child! Now, now Backwater Treatment Facility Family, Don't rush into assumptions! I'm only part snake & one fourth slimy! You even know how hard it is to moisturize a tentacle? But you is totes right in wormhood. Though that is totes pronounced more like "Wyrm" or "Wiirm" and not like "Worm" or "Wurm" which are ENTIRELY separate things! Here, move your lips like so! *starts squishing around Vylia's face before catching sight of the youngest and dropping her onto the carpet* OOOOEEWH! And aren't you the cutest little runt that hasn't been remembered fully enough by my author in order to give a better description than this! Mama's pride n' prized piglet, ain'tche? *pickys up Oglevy like a large pillow while he keeps talking* Just like Lil' Ol' OogieLoves here, you're all just totes adorable lil' filly-willies! Of course your shiny, precious, fun-fun baubledy-baubs to me! Why wouldn't we all be just as such!? If you'ses's mad as all that about it then I don't mind if you pick up that coatrack over there n' run me through a few times! We're all playthings & the world a great big toy chest! Haven't the faintest why you'd be against me! *starts dribbling Oglevy like a large rubber ball before tossing him "lightly" into a nearby wastebasket* Hah! Five Points! You know, think I've literally been dirt before! Funny, that! ...What's the look for? Hurm? Oh, the kid's fiiine! Greenstick Fractures, yadda yadda, they got bones like rubber cement or something. So what'd Richy-Rich poney-wones wanna do today? Yelly Game or a round of Hooficuffs? I'm open for anything! If you wanna let offa little steam do with me whatcha will! I'm game for anything Randimaxis LISTEN YOU SICK LITTLE LIZARD... Oh boy. ... I believe you vent this needless (and VERY uncouth) vitriol on us because YOU have an INSANE amount of jealousy towards us! Why? Well, we just so happen to be PONIES, with many, MANY examples of our own kind everywhere we turn! And you..? HA! You are a pointless little tremor of a belch made in the bowels of loneliness, as the ONLY relative I can even consider to be ANY sort of "family" for you is that JOKE of a dragon horse who claims to be the 'Lord of Chaos' - who, in fact, is nothing more than a pompous and sad little mishmash of everything left over from creating all the other, more PLENTIFUL races in this fair land! In fact, I'm fairly certain that you probably fancy yourself ABOVE that walking, talking foal's drawing, don't you? WELL, you sorry excuse for extra-large fishing bait, I happen to think the fact of the matter is PLAIN for everypony to see; at least that... that... WASTE OF SPACE can turn to the Guardians of Equestria in times of crisis, even if he SURELY doesn't deserve to! But you? You. Have. NOTHING... and since I, a fine wife and a wonderful mother, have it ALL, you simply feel so very inadequate - so you verbally tear into those who are BETTER than you, just to ease the burden of being the LEAST CARED ABOUT dracona... drago... WHATEVER... in ALL of existence! My proof? Well, I'm certain you'll simply laugh it off, then proceed to try to refute my statements... or attempt to make light of such... which will do nothing more than PROVE you to be the useless, unloved, unwanted THING you always have been, trying to make light of something you will NEVER have the pleasure of knowing in your entire sad, fruitless and MISERABLE life! So go ahead, DEARIE - prove me CORRECT! I do believe what was needed here was an explanation, NOT a yelling match, Mother. DO NOT CORRECT ME! Oh, dear... Vylia? Maaaaaaybe you should try to explain yourself... at least a bit? Hmmmm? And why should I justify myself to IT? ... because I asked you to. Nicely. Please? ... fine. FINE. I happen to be rather PROUD of my Zebrican heritage, THANK YOU VERY MUCH; only one foal in three generations evergets their stripes in my family, and I was the cream of the crop - the favorite, of course. And being the favorite, I naturally got PLENTY of attention - enough attention to understand the importance of being a PROPER lady, which I most certainly am, you overgrown leech. C'mon, now... FINE. As for my bow? It was a present from a DEAR family friend when I was young; it means quite a lot to me, and I wear it better than YOU would - in fact, better than MOST ponies! But, why am I angry about THAT? I'm sure you simply despair because you cannot accessorize something as GAUDY and CHEAP as yourself! Mother... YES, YES... FINE! And you dare to call me Bipolar? Why, one would almost think that you feel a mare such as myself can't have different thoughts and feelings of their own without being 'psychotic', hmmmmm? If they have more than a single side to their personalities, then they MUST have some sort of mental issue, eh? Is THAT what you're espousing here? *salty laugh* Wake up, noodle lizard; females can have ANY NUMBER of sides to themselves. It's called "being diverse" and "having a personality", and it would probably do you QUITE a bit of good to research that fact - in a library, of course; I'm fairly certain you would utterly HORRIFY and filly who you might approach with your nasty, vile self! And as for my darling husband, LUTHER... well, you could say that tired old line of "opposites attract", but the truth of the matter is that I saw PASSION in him! Passion for his work, and passion for his quarry, and passion for NOT being so easy to roll over to someone who gets in their muzzle about their business! There is, in MY opinion, SUCH a short supply of stallions who even KNOW that sort of passion exists - and my LUTHER has that passion in SPADES; far more than I'm certain ANY being has ever even postulated on the idea of you having an iota of! And a string of abacus beads is QUITE a compliment for a cutie mark, considering I could calculate circles around you on even my WORST day! And the pearls... what EXACTLY are you implying? That I'm not WORTHY of expensive tastes? That I cannot be as RARE or PERFECT as a quality pearl? Or a string of them, even? Truly, dearie - don't whine because you can't have nice things; it makes you seem even MORE pathetic than you truly are... and I find that to be QUITE a feat to pull off! And the details of our courtship are, quite frankly, none of YOUR business! I will state that my LUTHER was a true gentlecolt... and that he and I are QUITE happy together, regardless of whatever nonsense YOU may think of... IF you can rub those two dying brain cells together long enough to spark an idea, you numbwit! Okay, ummm... I think we should allow a chance for a re-rebuttal here... as the post is getting lengthy... Oh, I AM JUST GETTING STARTED! Vylia. Control your temper. I JUST wanted to make sure IT knows I'm FAR mor- VYLIA. FINE! FINE. *ahem* Fine. ... o-kaaaaaaaaay... well, that's, uh... that's Vylia, I suppose... Don't hem and haw like that, dearie - you'll seem ignorant. Widdershins Oh, I think the ignorant & cute part was when she intoned I could "filly" beings. That's quite a fun spell I really must try to work on sometimes! You're adorable when you're angry, you know that? Most everybeing is! Hoh, Honey Booples! I never called into question your commitment to each other! I simply wanted to know more and that's plain to see! Why... Hold on a moment here... *some rustling & clattering as it appears Widdershins is grabbing a portion of thin air & holding in front of his muzzle* Here... zoom... zoom in on my lips as I say this... there... good.. Your relationship has been clearly.... Passionate, Fertile & Frrruitful~~* Daaang, giiiirrl! Three colts in rapid succession and you can still keep a body that toned? I simply MUUUST know your secrets! Ta-Hoo-Hoo-hooo~! Noodle Lizard?! Leech!??! Heavens to Murgatroid, honey, you say the sweetest things! It's no wonder your husband, Lufa, can't keep his hooves off you! I say, I do, Looter is a very lucky stallion! Oh, Lightly-Seasoned Cheese Nips! You can honestly look at the mess I am and honestly think that I think being crazy is a bad thing? One should always have options! I accessorize with my limbs! *pulls his tentacle limb out in one full motion to toss it over his back while another one immediately pops right back into place, then uses that new limb to playfully bat Vylia vaguely around the area her muzzle is in* Honey Crunches of Stoats! That's what I am after all! A useless, unwanted, unloved mess of a being born as a living drawing & concept from a self-tormented Artist's Mind! It was loneliness & hatred that spawned me! Just look at the stuff that makes me up! *ripping open his chest with his front limbs in a motion too fluid to intone any resistance or pain the draconequus pulls himself apart like a pair of curtains. The inside appears far deeper than it has any right to be as a dense violet mist, peppered with graphite dust slowly seeps out of the formless, endless void inside his body. The room is immediately drained of color as if the sun was shut off outside and replaced with a sudden, horrific thunderstorm. Then, just as sudden, he snaps his body back shut and everything returns to normal.* But that's what makes me, and most of what is living, the living contradictions we all are! What we once had but have no more is still as much of us as that which we have not or have yet to be! After all, what is you all got, eh what? Riches & Status can be gone in an instant. Say, the stock market shuts down, the mine runs dry... some other enterprising businesspony somehow manages to pull one over on Looker here... you can lose everything in your life so... very... very fast. Even your family... *Widershins's constant grin fades just a little bit* Like, who's to know what the future will bring? Every mortal will eventually crumble into dust. Or even before that... Say the beloved child disagrees with his parents, decides to live apart, live a life pretending that he doesn't even have a family. ...What do any of us have, but the joy of the present moment? That's all I have... you'll wither into dust like everything else that time still listens to, and I'll keep on living on because I have no choice in the matter, because I never was alive. And all you'll ever be is a memory... *The draconequus pauses from where he's leaned into Vylia's face a little too closely as his emphasis has gotten progressively more intense. ...Then he leans back to his original position to have his face immediately spring back into his usual inane, giddy grin.* In that way, Everybeing's Immortal! So play all day, everyday! ...Wanna pancake? Randimaxis YOU... I... IT... OOOOOOH!!!!! Now, now... you had your shot; back off. BUT THAT- Mother? Perhaps I should take this opportunity to make my OWN statement? RRRRRGH! ... I think that's the closest you'll get to a 'yes', Harcourt. Go ahead. Splendid! Now, allow me to address the factoids as you've presented them about myself, hmmm? I notice you've simply assumed that when it comes to my thievery, I leave my fellow ponies without a clue, nor a bit left to their names? I'm somewhat appalled, but such is the way of rumours and the like, I suppose... You see, I am NOT in my chosen profession for monetary profit - well, no longer, at any rate. Those were my younger, more foolish years - I won't deny them, but I endeavor to move past them, all the same. You see, I never took from anypone who couldn't afford to lose a pretty trinket or two... and for the past number of years, I've simply been doing what I do for the sheer THRILL of such! The more difficult the prize is to obtain, the higher interest I have in it, you see; if I truly wish to become the greatest thief in all of Equestria, I have my work cut out for me! And so, I test my mettle on each and every "impregnable" vault, fortress and safe that I possibly can... oh, and since my younger days ended? I merely return the item in question within a day or two - usually in a rather easy-to-notice place. Yes, yes... I'm certain that simply sounds as if I'm trying to backpedal... but there's more truth to the tale than anypone dares to realize. Gully Fluff, my old teacher, instilled a pride in me of my abilities that I find unshakable... and where one has pride, why one simply HAS to exhibit the source of such, do you not agree? In fact, your own brand of... erm, "uniqueness"... is something you seem quite ready and willing to pour over the heads of those around you and watch as they sputter and wipe the weirdness from their eyes. I simply enjoy the chase and the thrill; I haven't needed bits for quite a while - and I see no reason to KEEP the things I take, so I merely return them - leaving the victim a tad wiser for the wear, as well. Now, I ask you, is that TRULY so terrible? Your analogy with assassins is somewhat right, actually - except, of course, in cases where the victim... well, shall we say they've EARNED enough ire to justify such? Remind me sometime to tell you the tale of how I managed to take a well-guarded pair of golden horseshoes from Prince Blueblood himself - and managed to deface every portrait within his household whilst I was at it! Ah, good times. It almost wounds me physically to call me... what were the words? *looks at the critique again* ..."irredeemably villainous", yes. Why, I have nothing but respect for my fellow creatures - I simply find it impossible to pass up a WORTHY challenge to my skills. Do I take from those who cannot afford it? NEVER - not even as a young stallion under Gully's tutelage. I've experienced the good life, and I am quite astute when it comes to scouting my targets; if they seem to be barely able to rub two bits together, I steer clear. After all, to do such makes one no better than a commonplace thug - something I am most certainly NOT. And my coats colors? I appreciate the compliment - though I assure you, there is not a scrap of aquatic genetics in my entire being... though it IS quite humorous to think of myself as a seahorse... *chuckle* But my Stealth Suit more than makes up for my coats rather UN-stealthy colorization... not to mention how it shows off my rather trim and fit frame, of course. The mares DO enjoy my looks quite a bit in that outfit, and who am I to deprive them of such a treat? *grin* And this... 'Lupin The Third' character? He doesn't sound very effective to me; where are the first two, I ask you? Then again, perhaps he learned from the mistakes of his predecessors, and therefore has more ability than I've considered - sounds as though he'd be quite a challenge to show up. Perhaps you could introduce me to- Um, Harcourt? He's... he's a cartoon character. Truly? I may have to see these cartoons for myself, then... But as you see, my dear draconequus - I am FAR from the brutish lout you seem to have mistaken me as; do you not think that perhaps, after explaining myself a bit more thoroughly, that this Master Thief is quite a bit more than your initial estimate painted me as? Widdershins Oh, don't get me wrong Mistress! The rich have a zeal for life, and I wouldn't ever put that down! It's like... how do you put it?... You still are negatively impacting other's lives though, Half-Court. Am I just as much evil by my constant appeal to engage others? Why, yes! Tis evil that prospers by the detriment of other beings! But who said evil was always a bad? Merely an acceptable level is much more often found! Like any schoolyard bully like that... Demon Tiara lass! What is it called? Chaotic Neutral? Still is the fact there that there is still consequences to all the poor embarrassed guards & security companies that got fired from your stunt or the walls you blew up to get in there. Such is the fate when go around constantly impregnating such tight, personal, well-guarded areas! ...What? I'm just returning the phrase! Say you steal from a Mob Boss who could easily stand to lose that treasure & didn't really earn it himself anyway. Still, that firefight could have been avoided. But I don't deny you your skill! And, above all else, it's still creative & fun! Lupin the Third was, after all, quite a relatable & adventerous ladies' man. Like Bond, but a lot less stuffy & serious! I think Equestria's version might have gone by the codename of... what was it? Oh, yes... Bon.... Bon-Bon. Randimaxis *sigh* Well, it was a better reception than Mother's, at least... Okay, uh... Luther? Very well. *levels a look at you* You speak of my dark patches; they spot my entire body. There is more than what is on my muzzle. Our family history is only what is known currently, due to... Ex-Management and previous generations. They have sullied our name; I am trying to redeem it. It is hard, but I work harder. I have not blackmailed. I have not extorted. I... may have intimidated, but only to get the job done. And NEVER threatened violence. That is not my way. I have learned my lesson; I do not care for "friends" among my workers. I learned that lesson well. Management had retained pay from others, which boiled their blood - it was a flash of mob temper that led to my... lesson. One I learned well. One I did NOT want passed to my son the HARD way - which is why I bade him to fire workers that had a chance to harm him. I will NOT watch that happen again. EVER. Management was... crafty. Management did not CARE about the quarry; I did. I made that clear when I took it. It is now MYquarry. MY quarry. MY rules. NO exceptions. *narrows eyes* Do NOT accuse me of becoming Management. What was done was to ensure workers knew to stay clear of my son; nothing more. The lesson was learned. There has already been a... "horror"... there. *glares pointedly* It was a draconequus. A vigilant ally disposed of it; it was NOT an easy battle. But we won. Vylia is my wife. She understands me; that is all I ever wanted, and she gives that to me. There is love - do not doubt that. What would be "courtship" was Vylia doing her job, then staying to talk with me afterward. Feelings and emotions grew until love blossomed. Then, we were married. No. I am not "fun"; I do not want to be "fun". I have too much work to do. Also, I do not care what you think - I do this for my creator. NOT you. Heh heh... um, well - I suppose that covers Luther... sorry he's so... uh, 'brusque'? Widdershins OOOOOH! You're ADORABLE! Isn't he though, Vylia Dear? I can totally see where Ogglevy gets it from! And I haven't even SEEN Ogleby yet! Whosa fun lil' filly! You are! Yes you are! You need some teensy little miser glasses! You know, those antique ones? What do you think, Vylia-Dear? Hornrim? Pearl? I'd go with Ammolite myself, but you know how gaudy Aunty Widdy can get! Tee-hehehehehehe! Hee! Harumph for me a couple times, Larry! ...or Laurent... Liverwurst, whatever your name was. Oh, wait! You actually talked didn't you!??! Wow! You can extort, bully, threaten, coerce & blackmail without violence?! Gosh! I never knew that! Learn something new every day, I always say! BywhichImeanthisisthefirsttimeIeveractuallyhave! (That... would probably have sounded more sincere had I been saying that, but...yeah. Kind of hard for me to imagine, but I see you.) Gosh Oh Mighty! Didn't know being a beloved boss also involved an iron grip over your underlings to the point where you could fire them off at any momentary whim to suit your own mood! (I... I can't read him any better than you can. How is my character better at sarcasm than I am...? You're adorable, you know that! ...Oh shaddup...) Oh Poopidoo! Makes me want to have my own business now! I'll call it.... Trump Towers! No Idea why! Gods help us all... he's getting topical... There already was a corruption-dug-up-in-the-mine-that-slowly-spread-outwards-Lovecraftian-Idea? Ack-Ack! My idea's been done before!?! I feel faint!... Well, maybe that was also me. I have a hard time keeping up all my continuities & storylines. Even if my author hasn't exactly written most of them yet. Oooh, I say you are fun, boopy! Everybeing loves a bossy-boss! Harumphing like some Trottingham stuffed shirt & wing! I say! Besides, I would say... you don't crank out three colts like ya did if you don't know how to be a bit fun with the Missus every now n' again, eh eh? Nudge, nudge, Wink, wink? A nod's as good as a wave to a blind bat, eh what, eh what? You two are so totes my favorite Pairing! Eh, the kids I could take or leave, (In fact, might take a few with me as souvenirs before I go, but I digress!) but that's easily solved ain't it? I say! Do me a favor you two lovebirds and pop out another one or four fillies! I do love little ponies! They just have the bestest, most magical Imaginations! I am... so not comfortable with you being around young children... Imma Imaginary Friiiiend! Oh, drop dead, Fred... Randimaxis Drop Dead Fred... that was a FUN mo- *Luther glares* ... um, right. Well, I- HEY, BOZOFACE! Oy vey... I don't even know who - or WHAT - you are, but I'll bet you're just as idiotic as the REST of those draconequui can be... OH WAIT! I guess it's just whatever number manages to find their way out of their outhouse hole! HA! Yes, meet Oglevy. Yeah, buck-brain! I'M Oglevy, and you'd better REMEMBER that... of course, if you're too stupid to remember Father's name, then I might be asking too much of your miniscule pea-brain, huh? *sticks tongue out* Too bad there's no profile on me yet - guess I just get to tell you whatever the heck I want!!! Yeah, that works for me! Okay, turdskull, listen up: I've ALWAYS been a great flyer, and ever since I was a foal, I've had wingspan to beat out any other foal my age! Not to mention that I learned to speak early, learned to trot early, learned to use the commode early - why? 'Cause I've got BRAINPOWER, while YOU have nothing but mush up there! *flies up, knocks on your head* HA! With THAT kinda hollow coconutty, you could play percussion in the Canterlot Orchestra! You'd be the "Butt-Over-Tea-Kettle Drum!" *uproarious laughter* But seriously, Future Boots, I'm the PINNACLE of my Parent's efforts! I'm better than Daxie-Waxie- ... hey... And a WHOLE lot better than Huckster Deluxe over there! You little rat! NYAH! I oughtta make good on that promise to ship your unseemly flank to Yakyakistan! HARCOURT BLACKWATER! You will NOT talk to your brother like that! He's INSUFFERABLE, Mother! How do you expect our family name to ever rise above such a foul little demon! Yeah, COME AT ME, Bro - I'll smack ya right in your ugly kisser and SHOW ya what "rising above" means when you go sailing! You brat! Degenerate! Louse! Incompetent! IDIOT! Ooooooh, lookit me, I'm HAR-BORE! Blah blah blee blah de dah de dah! CUT THAT OUT, YOU NASTY LITTLE PIMPLE! MAKE ME! STOP IT, BOTH OF YOU! I can easily handle this runaway, Mother, don't worry! Mother, don't let this tick continue to hang from my ear; let me deal with this! THAT'S QUITE ENOUGH! ASININE PILE OF GRIFFON DROPPINGS! JEALOUS CRIMINAL FAILURE! Oh no... *cowers* E... NOUGH! *silence for a beat* Dipwad. Jerk. ... yeaaaah, that happens every time those two get near each other. My apologies. Don't apologize to that waste of wordspace! *groan* Widdershins Futureboots? Bozoface? Turdskull? BuckBrain? *whistling inhale* He pet names too! ...I don't think that's quite what's... Know what I always say! The quicker the wit & the faster you talk then clearly you have all that much more to say! Just look at how quick he caught on to me! Really got me Life to Rights! I'll never know how you caught on that I spent some time living in the Sewage Main Dimension! ...pretty sure that was just a piping system you portaled into... And the Mush-For-Brains comment! How did you know I kept spoiled milk inside my skull to ferment into cheese?!!? *grabs his head off by the snout & empties it like knocking out a shoe* Least I think that's what's supposed to be cheese! Wouldn't know! Haven't had a brain in YEARS! Did that too! Granted, that was using the Canterlot Orchestra AS percussion instruments... and I got arrested for that, but still! Believe that song is pronounced as Butthooven's Fifth! But my point still stands! Glad to see the younger generation feeling free to speak their mind & emotions! That kind of courage to grab a body by the face sockets n' really tell 'im what for! A good go-getter! YONG MAN! YEH GO FAR! A fine prospect to lead this family company, I say, I say! Turn the reigns over to him! Now! Literally, right now as I'm typ- saying this! This young spawn deserves the attention he so screechingly demands! Tell you what! A growing buoy needs a treat! Kids like treats, so I'll do what I do best! *slowly coughs up a missile* This here's the Ballistic Pancake Missile! It explodes into enough pancakes for everybeing! Put... pu-... p-put that away, Now! Nonsense! No worries! I'm at least thirty percent sure it actually has pastries in it this time! BLAM! Aww, don't worry. That was me just loudly saying the word Blam! Note how there weren't any asterisks around it! Randimaxis *peeks out from cover* Hey... words can sting too, y'know. *rueful chuckle* Well, now that you've seen ALL of the... wait. Dax? ... yes, sir? I think it's YOUR turn, buddy. Oh, no; that's okay... I... kinda get the feeling that he'd just poke more fun at me. I'm... I-I-I'm good. Daxter! I'm surprised at you! I would've thought, with how you're always going on about wanting to make friends, YOU would have been far more willing to speak to... that THING. Yes, Dax; if ANYPONY could make sense of things, I'd like to think 'twould be you. YOU!? Not wanting to TALK?!? Are you sick or something..? But... b-b-but I- Daxter. ... y-yes, Father? Speak your mind; it needs to be said. ... C'mon, Stripes - you've got it in you. ... well... Yes, dearie... SAY something, for Luna's sake! ... I guess you can't talk it any UGLIER, that's for sure. *deep breath* O-okay. May I, Mister Randi? The floor is yours, Dax. Okay. I want to start by apologizing for how... brusque the rest of my family can be; they've been at it all my life, in one way or another. It's just... how we interact with each other. We might not be perfect, no - but we're kinda... perfect for each other. We just... FIT together, y'know? But that's certainly no call for all that venom to splash onto you OR your colleague. So... I apologize profusely. Now, that seems counter-intuitive to the Blackwater family history, but hear me out - my family's lineage goes all the way back to right after the... um... *gulps* ...the Defeat of Discord by the Two Sisters. It wasn't so much grand as it was fortunate - in our beginnings, we were a humble, honorable clan - if a bit, uhm... eccentric. But we haven't always been bad, is the point I'm wanting to say. I'm an AVID reader, and I've done quite a bit of delving into my family's records AND tree; in over a thousand years, ALL of the different equine races have been a part of the Blackwater family tree... and even zebras... though no alicorns; at least, not that I know of, anyway. But I'm PROUD of my heritage - proud enough to realize that the 'bad egg' history we have is only the past number of generations... and NOT the nasty ponies we always get characterized as. It's simply the current opinion - current, though, being the last few hundred... uhm, years... yeah. *clears throat* Anyway, I know we aren't bad pones; we're just... well, diamonds - or maybe emeralds? - in the rough. We're a perfect family because we're IMperfect; flaws and all, we each represent an archetype of what CAN be found in a family unit. And though we have our different... quirks... we also have our own, strange kind of love for each other, too. I know Father only wants to protect me from experiencing what HE went through at Grandfather Erasmus' hooves; he can't even speak his name - he simply calls him Management. Tell me THAT isn't an unresolved issue... but it's something that toughened him up, as well. Made him the capable and hard-working stallion he is today, along with the shock of it all making him that much more determined to do what he had to do. There's something real and everyday about that, and that makes him a deeper soul than just the surface stone might portray. And Mother? She's GOING to tell you she was the favorite because, to her, she WAS. She ended up succeeding in life on HER terms, marrying the stallion SHE could stand hoof-to-hoof with and STILL find both deeply honest and genuinely caring. SHE can see through Father's stone muzzle to what he's thinking; that's why the two of them fought - she almost seemed to be second-guessing him, and HE had just gotten the quarry under his control. He lost his temper - which, because of how love can sometimes be, made her even MORE attractive to him. Daxter... I n-never TOLD you abou- Sometimes, there are folks out there who get along WELL like this; functionally DISfunctional, so to speak. But we really AREN'T bad - we leave that to the other players and their characters to discover for themselves, through expressive storytelling and diverse setting characters, or NPCs, as Mister Randi calls 'em. Oglevy? He's the brat because there really ARE a lot of kids who go through a bratty phase out there; it's identifiable because many folks have dealt with, in some manner or form, at least ONE brat - even if it was themselves. But he's also a genius, indicative of the same thing that tends to happen as generations pass; the new batch is smarter than the last one. Now, sometimes they still seem to have to learn things the hard way, of course. But he's young and resilient enough to bounce back from a lot; something he'll doubtlessly take advantage of often. My older brother is also a stereotype; college. The School of Hard Knocks, yeah... but it's still just as valid a learning institution as any ivy-league university or country-town schoolhouse. And he's off doing that, along with the pain of what happened between himself and Father slowly healing... heck, I'm SURE he'll make a grand comeback to the quarry someday. As soon as he's ready to. He may bury the hatchet with Father... or he may not... but the animosity between Harcourt and Oglevy is the stuff of siblings around the world. It plays out well between them, and makes for an interesting moment when the two of them, in separate stories, mention each other - especially for those who might read both storylines. It's all a full and rich tapestry of love and conflict - just like any healthy family usually truly is at its' heart. And me? Well, uhm... *soft sigh* I know I was kinda hesitant at the beginning of all this - and truthfully, I still am.. but they're right. My family, that is. They know me better than I know myself sometimes, and they do for me what I do for them, in their own flawed, yet loving way. But yeah. Uhm. I... I don't want to yell at you, or say mean things to you - though it seems like you're more the type to do that out of affection more than actual intent to hurt - but that's... that's not me. I'm the kind who WILL come up to you and ask you if you would... would rather be friends instead. Truth is, I do have a few friends - but my young teen point of view is fully evident in how I feel about myself; which is unsure and outcast. In my case, I'm also the awkward one - so that means I have a chance to turn out to be the one to TRULYchange the general opinion of all of Equestria, if for no other reason than my actions in trying to be friendly despite my natural proclivities to be alone and... well, yeah - kinda mopey. But I try to work hard to be something more than a stereotype... I take actions that are outside of my comfort zone... and theseare my actions... *walks up to you, looks up and gulps, then speaks shakily as he nervously extends a hoof* ... w-would you like to be my friend? I'd much rather have a friend than a name-calling match, honest. Widdershins See? The one that sticks themself out to be a friend to a Great Mess like me! *limply clasps Dax's hoof with both his tentacle & claw* The reaching Olive Branch! The meek that step forth to bridge gaps! TRULY such is the spirit of ponykind and an admirable, and enviable trait in all! *firmer, and genuine, compassionate grasp while his eyes get all big and doe-like* But I still hate you most of all, scarecrow! Mostly because your a wishy-washy reader-by-proxy, BUT! I truly only mean that hate in a loving sort of way, I assure you! Just like the family you just described! A little of everything! That's what "realistic" means, in that there's a wide array of what those characters can be, not just confined to the lists of likes, dislikes, traits & tropes! After all, that's why my author has a huge crush on your mother! Oh shaddup, you. I just like the color green is all. And red. Among various other options too. But that's the reason Young Adult Novels get the bad rep they known for! Teenagers are, almost without exclusion, shallow, angsty & self-centered. A character like that gives off an aura of being a transparent ploy for reader attention, but that doesn't make them any less real! In fact, its my own standpoint that everything is real, while being simultaneously a lie. There is nothing that is fully without merit or worth in and of itself. Every thing big enough to have its own existence impacts lives one way or another and literally adds to every life & existence it rubs up against! That's what critics are. When you come to see the negative of things, the biggest thing, and first, that you start looking for worth in is yourself. Take a look around at any critic you find, there is always some modicum of fear & doubt, even the most pompous ones who believe they can end whole careers & establishments that believe that only their opinion matters. That bluster is built so steadfastly as to show they can't live without that. Every critic hates themself. Everybeing can only start from themself as a starting point, and from there compare it to everything else & in turn come to see themself as lacking. ...Some are closer than you'd think. Humph... It's in learning to laugh at yourself, and KNOW that you're an inexcusable great mess, is what makes you Real. And that's what I see in you all! You're all Beautiful, Hot Garbage! You should have your flaws! I wouldn't want it any other way! Perfection is boring! Boredom is stagnation of creativity! If you can't create, you can't grow! Growth is an important factor of life! Living is an Art! ART IS EXPLOSION!!! HIT THE DECK, HE'S GONNA BLOW!!! Well, I mean he always blows, but... Oy! Randimaxis Well? Satisfied? Yes, well - I suppose if that's the BEST to expect... I have nothing else to say. Certainly have to admit, the conversation was NOT dull. A pleasure, to be sure. FLUFFNOGGIN! ... I-I'll just... be over h-h-here... ... then I suppose they've said their piece. In case you couldn't tell, I actually have a great deal of fun portraying them. They're part of the reason I'm still HERE in the first place - though the folks I've met here are the biggest one, hooves down. Or claws. Or pincers. Or noodle-like cilia. Or bacon. ... mmmmmmm... Among them, unique little you. (Or big; I honestly have no real context; use whatever works for you.) Thank you. I truly do appreciate the way you've worked this through with me; sometimes, my head isn't exactly turned the right way, so I see things from a BADLY skewed perspective, instead of a GOODLY skewed one. Times like that, all you can do is work it out - which this has really been cathartic to me, and apparently I needed that more than I realized. Yeah, I know I can come across as sappy and naive... but truly, that's just who I am. Not saying I don't want to change - I dislike the idea of justifying the retention of my flaws - but it's more like I recognize my flaws, and try not to let them get me too far down. The Blackwaters' profiles? I think I'll leave them down, for now anyway... if I ever gather enough interest in them for folks to ask, I can repost them then... after a slight revision, here and there. But rest assured, I'm no longer leaving them down out of shame... more like 'laziness', but meh... Widdershins Of course you don't! The whole point of me is to not have any context! I feel I've said that before. You should have flaws, you should be this emotionally invested in what you do. I don't want you to hide, second-guess yourself and refuse to grow. That's a painful road to travel down. And, hey... I'm asking. What, do I not count? ...bacon appendages? I need an example of that. No way you can out-original me! Randimaxis I... actually have a question, now that we're through the above stuff... I was looking it over and seeing how well-written much of it was, and I was wondering: Would you be willing to allow me to copy/paste the conversation into a blog? If the answer is no, that's perfectly fine - we did say a number of things above that were quite personal; I'd be willing to edit out whatever you feel doesn't belong in the public eye, of course. I won't do anything like this without your okay, since this was a personal convo between us... all eight of us... and I don't want it to seem tawdry and cheap by publicizing it - but, at the same time, it's so very expressive and fun that I feel like it would be an excellent read for others, as well as being insightful toward not only the Blackwaters, but your own rather fascinating creation as well. However, as said, I will NOT do so unless you approve - I'd rather have you as a friend than showboat at your expense. What say you? *winces* BOTH of you? Widdershins How could showboating ever be bad?!!? Well, let's see, a few things. One: You don't know me well enough by now to figure out that I don't bloody well know what I've said already? I ain't gonna go do the extra work of scrolling through all that to edit! Two: I don't really care what impact my previous words could have. I ain't gonna be ashamed of it, and if you post it up I ain't gonna balk at what's already done. Besides, I have a habit of babbling. I often spout off embarrassing details about myself frequently in desperate bids for attention. Nothing I say here can't be any worse or less then what I've undoubtedly done several times before. That's what I say: If I stop to think about what I need to say, I'll never get to say anything at all! Three: REALLY? AAAAALL OF IT? YOU MAD, BRUH? (It's okay if you're mad, I'll feel for you, bro!) That's, like, WEEKS of work we done did! All that even gonna fit all on one page?!!? Sure! I could I resist potential more attention?!!? Sure, go ahead. I don't mind. This is the internets after all, a place to express opinions and shout where it makes the least impact. What's the worst that could happen? [EPILOGUE] I really, really just need to remind myself to stop taking me so seriously, and just do what I do - and when I find someone awesome to do that with, enjoy that too. I have to let go of my ego, so that I can just be weird for a while. Most of all - I gotta hang out more with good folks... because, as they say, friendship is magic. Crazy is a bonus.
  8. *In a dream. But please, don't let the shameless false advertising in the title stop me from sharing this totally loony story with you. It's so ridiculous I have to type it out before going back to sleep, or I'll forget it or stop believing I ever had it. It also must be related in full detail, making it a bit too long for the "What Are Your Dreams" thread but ideal for a blog, so here it is. I was over at a relative's house. My aunt and uncle's place , to be precise. It looked exactly like my grandparent's, at least on the inside, but different outside. So for whatever reason, they were having someone staying over with them for a night or so: THE POPE. Yes. Pope Benedict XVI is my aunt and uncle's houseguest. I don't know why, but he is. So as my dream went, the relatives were all gone doing whatever it is they do, and I was still there. Well, I thought, I'm not religious at all. In fact, I left Catholicism long ago because my private school sucked and I was tired of hitting intellectual brick walls everywhere I turned. But if you had an opportunity to see and talk to the Pope in person at your aunt's house, would you pass it up? So I go downstairs to the guest room he was staying in (the same one I once used after moving out of my parents' and before I got an apartment). And there he is, standing in the doorway in full regalia. He looks just like he does on TV, except a little bigger and somehow more...not sure how to say it. There's just something faintly sinister about him. (Or maybe I always thought that. Look at his picture. You can't tell me this man is not evil.) Naturally I'm a little nervous. I figure you're supposed to bow or something, so I do just to get on his good side. "Er, Your Eminence...I'm sorry for disturbing you, but may I ask you one question?" "Why, certainly, sonny," the Pope says kindly. "I'm sure you hear this all the time," I say carefully as he discards his outer robe and seats himself casually on the carpet. "But...what's it like being the Pope?" "I'll tell you," he replies, "But first you have to come over here and sit on my knee." "Um...okay." Gee, that's weird. I'm a grown man and he wants me to sit on his lap? But I go over and do it anyway, since it's a dream and you kind of have to go where your mind takes you. I never could manage that lucid dreaming stuff...but it would have come in handy here, because as soon as I'm sitting on his knee, the Holy Father does something very bizarre... He makes a pass at me. I don't remember what he says, just that it's gross and I get the hell off his knee. This is even more uncomfortable to write about than it is to read, folks. "Hold on," the Pope says, and now he's looking more sinister and crazy with each passing second. "Don't you want an answer to your question?!" And he reaches behind the bed and pulls out a speargun. Like the kind you would use against big fish in the water or something. Except there are no fish around, only me, and this innocent scenario is taking a highly unwelcome turn into dark comedy. Laughing crazily, His Unholiness fires. The first spear misses me and splinters the closet door I'm standing next to. "What the f*** is wrong with you?!" I scream as he fires the second spear into the ceiling above me. I'm standing like 15 feet away, so he must not be a very good shot, but I have to get away from him just the same. The third shot goes into the wall where I was standing; I'm already racing up the stairs and into the living room. I run out the front door and lock it behind me. I know no one in my family will believe this, but as I run, I realize there's one thing I have to do, even if I have no idea why. The Pope isn't athletic enough to pursue me, but he's still in there and still dangerous. I quickly find a friend of my cousin's and get a spare set of keys off him. "What do you need them for?" he asks. "I can't tell you. You'd never believe it," I answer. I run back to the house, unlock the front door, eye the living room to make sure no homicidal religious leaders are waiting for me...and I sneak out their big flat-screen TV. At that point, my dog started whining and the dream ended. Yep. So THIS horrible near-death experience is the first dream that I remember in months, and I will never be able to see Pope Benedict in the paper or on television again without thinking of it. Hallelujah. I never would've had a dream like this about Pius IX or John XXIII...they just don't make Popes like they used to. "I have as much authority as the Pope...I just don't have as many people who believe it." --George Carlin, 1937-2008
  9. [STORY TIME] It was summer, and Sherrie Badger was in the mood for a fine swim on such a hot day. So, she gathered up her beach stuff and filled her little orange backpack all up with so many fun things. There was a bottle of sunscreen, two pairs of sunglasses, a thick and fluffy beach towel, a little pail and shovel for the sand, a nifty sunhat with petunias on it, and a nice lunch of grape soda (her favorite!) and a yummy watercress sandwich... with TWO pickles! Sherrie Badger then began the trek from her humble abode unter the Tum-Tum tree, deep in the Doodleybob Forest, headed toward the fine sand, sun and air of the little beach that every critter in the entire forest knew about. On her way there, she made occasional stops at her friends' homes, asking them all if they wanted to accompany her on such a fine, sunny day. Though Dinah Squirrel was organizing her nut collection, and Rocky the Rabbit was digging a new room for his hutch, and Shiny the Toy Robot and Mr. Puff-Puff Mousie were far too busy, Stevie the Stork and Big Joe Toad were MORE than happy to go with their dear friend to have a day of fun and relaxation. As they traveled, they sang happy little songs and skipped merrily, bringing a light and jovial mood to anyone who would see them passing... ... anyone, that was, except for Mean Myrna Mole. Myrna Mole had always been grumbly-wumbly, but today she was in QUITE a snit. Her foul temperment was in high gear, and she had been waiting ALL DAY LONG for someone to yell at - particularly, foolish, fluffheaded animals who thought the entire world was just hunky-dory all the time. As the trio drew closer, Myrna could hear their singing voices... and knew she simply COULDN'T let them pass her home without a decent tongue-thrashing! So, as they rounded the bend, Myrna prepared herself for what she knew would be QUITE a fun time for her... even if it would be miserable for everyone else. When Sherrie Badger came around the bend, Myrna huffed at her. "Well, now - and what have we here? Another head stuffed with fluff, I expect. Don't you have ANY idea of what you could be accomplishing if you weren't so busy being your usual dippy self? You should be ashamed, acting as though you've not a care in the world... do you not realize that your very existence is nothing more than skittering to and fro, doing NOT A SINGLE THING of import? From the looks of you, you must be headed to that DROLL little strip of sand the others have the nerve to call a 'beach', aren't you? LAZY! SHIFTLESS! FOOLISH LITTLE MOPPET!" Sherrie Badger wasn't used to such talk, and her big blue eyes began to water, tears forming as she thought of how silly her idea might actually be... When Stevie the Stork came around the bend, Myrna huffed at him. "Oh, look - the silly little stork has come to be a fool, too! Why in the entire Doodleybob Forest would you be willing to WALK to that miserable swatch of sand? You have two perfectly good wings; why aren't you busy flying... after all, that's what you're meant for, isn't it? Yet here you are, ground-bound, thanks to the supposed sense of 'friendship' you claim to share with these other fools! Don't you realize they're simply JEALOUS of your wings, and they want to keep you on the ground as much as possible, restricting you to the same drudgery as they have to endure down here?" Stevie the Stork wasn't used to such talk, and the bottom of his beak began to quiver, his throat tightening with tears... When Big Joe Toad came around the corner, Myrna huffed at him. "And YOU!" But Big Joe Toad simply pulled out his chrome .44 caliber pistol and shot the mole right in her motherfucking face. Five times. "Ain't SHIT!", said the toad. The three freinds then went merrily along on their way to the beach, leaving that bitch-ass mole facedown in the dirt, her hoarse and blood-soaked death rattle being the last thing they heard from her as they went on to enjoy their day. {Da Moral}: Don't fuck with Big Joe Toad.
  10. [STORY TIME] Taki Turtle, Dinah Squirrel and Big Joe Toad were all heading down the lovely little path through the Doodleybob Forest. They were all headed to Shiny the Toy Robot's place for their usual cookies and fruit punch - Shiny threw the BESTEST picnics! As they came round the bend, who should they see but Argyle Fox, looking all sneaky-weaky, and he had a box in his paws. As soon as they saw him, the trio of friendly friends slowed from their traipsing gait to a slow walk. That old fox could NOT be trusted, and they knew it - he would try to take them to his den and gobble them up... even Taki! "Well hellOOOOooooo, my fine friends! Say, the three of you wouldn't mind helping me out here, would you? I seem to have gotten a lot of cupcakes in this box here, yet it's FAR too many for my little self to eat ALONE... but I'll share them with you!" Argyle opened the box juuuuuuuuuust a bit, and motioned to the opening. "Well? Who wants to come over here, riiiiiiiight next to the box, and take a peek, hmmmmmmm?" Taki was curious, but was wise enough to know better. "Not I," said the turtle. Dinah REEEEEEALLY wanted a cupcake... but she knew that wily old fox was just strong enough to be able to shove any one of them in that box... so she flicked her tail at him instead. "Not I," said the squirrel. Big Joe Toad pulled out his chrome .44 caliber pistol and shot the fox right in his motherfucking face. Five times. "Ain't SHIT!", said the toad. The three friends then continued along the path to Shiny's, leaving that bastard fox bleeding out in the gutter, shitting himself as he died in the most excruciating pain he'd ever known. {Da Moral}: Don't fuck with Big Joe Toad.
  11. What would we do without our dose of creepiness and WTF? today i have a special gift you you horror lovers, if you like creepy stuff like me you may enjoy these materials, no screamers in any of those videos, guaranteed. In my last entry i mentioned that in the entry #5 of this saga i would make a special, but how 'bout some warm up with a prelude to horror? Today i show you the most WTF videos i ever saw and the theme is "Horror in Black and White, what does it mean? all these videos are in black and white and some are designed specifically to make you feel chills. No cheap horror is a quality horror that not even your blankets will make you feel safe! Of course is my job to present you this videos but the work of this exquisite material belong to their respective creators, so grab some sodas, prepare your snacks, be with friends because this is going to be good! no description as i used to just watch them as a surprice That thing by Sofia Rincon. Sueño Real by lanimibusband Trogort by Principe Subliminal The peanut Vendor Bonus material: Father Sigygis I warn you, if you are specially sensitive about horror stuff i must insist to close this entry and go watch something else but since i know you won't, delight yourself.
  12. Heeeey! wassup ponies and fillies! welcome to a new chapter of the saga The 5 most WTF videos i ever watched, today i got some quality works and like always i suggest discretion since some if not most of them are kinda creepy now before we move to the videos i want to mention that none of the videos i share has screamers, i hate them as much as you do so you can relax, have nice trip! Shaye Saint John, maybe some of you already know her but if you don't have a nice dose of weirdness a old video, very surrealistic highly recomendable to watch is basically a children's show Why is it here then? see for yourself and comment what you see wrong with the show something very strange indeed along with the music, i just say... WTF last but not least, short video about.. ahm... no words just watch it when we reach the #5 entry of WTF videos i'll make a special
  13. Hello Bronies! once again, here i am showing some of the dark parts going in Youtube, some of the videos i'll share are creepy, others strange, i suggest discretion m mommi aabit was a Finland TV show for kids notice the faces of the characters, they are absolute horryfing indeed.. Kraina Grzybow, one of the most disturbing TV show ever made. From Poland it seems that this show is particulary creepy because it doesn't have any clear purpose and nobody knows who did the show, if it was any. At this times who doesn't know The Simpsons? one of the things i like the most of the show are it's openings but this time i show you one of the most WTF entrances ever What's better than ballons and a nice suit? well.... here. this is just.... weird... you like bananas? don't watch it.
  14. I found this toy on Amazon which is supposed to be Pinkie's car. So it got me thinking... are there cars in Equestria? Because... there is no infrastructure, to my knowledge, to support automobiles. Then again, if you subscribe to Pencils's Genius Pinkie theory, it's possible that it's a one-off car that Pinkie built for herself and not a mass-produced model. Video: http-~~-//g-ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/A1yRZOGeqYS.mp4 How long has this toy been around? I know that Hasbro has put toys like Twilight's balloon and the season 2 train into the show before, so do you think we'll ever see this car?
  15. Oh, fan fics, where we re we might explore interesting takes of our favorite worlds and such. Many of them use OCs for their stories and such. But what about canon characters? We know that many fics put canon characters in unlikely situations, but not all put them in said situations without resorting in making them OOC. So. Which are the most interesting takes on canon characters that are not OOC in fanworks? Mine would be: Note: please, if said fact involves a mayor spoiler, please, put them in a spoiler tag -Twilight Sparkle: Yeah, no way our favorite nerdy princess would think of killing anyone, but Fallout EG made a good take if Twi was forced to take a life. we know the Fallout wastelands are no unicorns and rainbows, so, imagine the shock of Twi once she ended up in a nuclear war torn human world once she started to get worried about Sunny not responding to the messages in the book. Once shenanigans ensues, she gets her share of fights with raiders and other douches. Her lack of experience is compensated with her gifted tactical mind, overwhelming enemies with it. However, she developed a severe PTSD for all the killing she had, having nightmares, fearing she might become evil, and facing her friends and mentor in Equestria, out of fear of being outcast. -Black Widow: There's another character in Fallout Equestria Girls, she's an assassin of unknown purposes. She killed human Braeburn for yet undisclosed reasons (making a personal enemy out of Applejack), and many more people, mostly raiders, also fell victim of her. Well equipped, skilled, and deadly. It is of great shock once, in a fight between pony Twi, pony Sunny, Spikey Wikey and human AJ, it's discovered her identity: -Eris: From Persona EG, in a similar veil as Black Widow above, she's a badass female with her identity hidden. Unlike BW above, she's openly antagonistic towards the protagonists. Not only possessing a powerful persona of the same name, but also incredibly skilled close combatant. She's the most unlikely person, EVER: -Pinkie Pie: In the Friendship is Magic webcomic by Mauroz. Once she's transformed in a magical girl, she's the usual Pinks you'd expect, cheerful, fun loving, maybe a little flirty..... just the usual. But don't hurt her friends, or her idea of fun will turn into a sadistic enjoyment
  16. http://www.equestriadaily.com/2014/10/miley-cyrus-going-brony.html I'm really not sure how to respond to this one guys. Just discuss below.
  17. Anyone here seen the new Minions movie ? I just saw this hilarious parody video of it where the guy dresses up as a Minion and runs around the city. So hilarious (What's your opinnion about the actual movie ?)
  18. Fuck you Luna, Big Mac is best princess now! (Jk, I still love Luna)
  19. Has any pony else seen some really funny subtitles on MLP? They were really popular on another forum, didn't know if there were some others floating around? Hope this doesn't already exist, I couldn't find it if it does. Be warned, you will laugh IRL at these:
  20. Have you ever come across a gif image that just made you go WTF? I have. Let's all share a gif or two that would most likely induce the WTF reaction from folks. I'll start us off:
  21. I was scanning codes on 4chan for the free pokemon exploit when I ended up with this beauty. I've quarentined it and it hasn't done anything, I was just wondering what I should do with this thing, thanks.
  22. Not sure if this is in right section. Hopefully it is. Anyways, I'm having a serious problem here with an extension on my Google Chrome that seems virtually impossible to delete. I tried researching this issue online but I found nothing. And speaking of the devil, this is the extension that I have been dealing with for the past week. It causes spam and annoying (as well as disturbing) ads to appear on sites like YouTube and even this forum. I just removed it from Chrome for the billionth time, but it keeps coming back from the dead!!! If anyone knows how to do away with this nuisance, please be kind as to inform me ... immediately. I'm getting really tired of its shit here :okiedokielokie: Also, what in Celestia's name is this? Thankfully I didn't click anything. But I'm just wondering if this has anything to do with the forums? Maybe it's a bug directly derived from the site? I honestly have no idea.
  23. @ A few weeks ago,you'll remember that I talked about our new overlord But there's another overlord...and is even more powerful... Praise him for your life...Save your life...And give him some wubs <3
  24. I just found this stuff called " Clopfiction " ... I personally don't judge and if thats your thing then thats your thing.. but .. seriously.. wow! I personally laugh my ass off at the two I read, but I just don't understand why anyone finds it erotic? Like I said I don't judge.. so if your into this please, try too help me figure out why you find it .. interesting .. for lack of a better word.. but ...just ... wow!
  25. I try to be good, I try to let the advertisements play on youtube. However there is a point to where I end up keeping ad block on. It's when this happens. ↓ Seeing all those uneven yellow dots on the bottom draws the line. Most of which are appear on the bottom of the video overlapping the subtitles. I mean I'm not hearing impaired but to those who try to watch youtube videos with subtitles or captions; must ad block on a regular basis just to be able to read. It isn't like google is doing it in purpose but one would think they would catch it right away. Not only that, this showed up WITH ad block enabled. So what am I worried about? Lots of little nit picky things, the uneven yellow dots on the scrub bar, the frequency of the yellow dots (then again it makes sense for an hour long video, but I've seen fourteen minute videos with that many dots) or just how frequent I would (if adblock was not enabled) have to close the advertisements that overlap the subtitles for LPs. Am I just being stupid or crazy or what?