Richard: >Captchalogue that CAKE! Then head upstairs and TROLL a MESSAGEBOARD by posting my latest SPIRIT CALIBER SLASHFIC.
[5] You try to captchalogue the CAKE, but then you remember that your SYLLADEX is full.
Instead you lift up the cake and through it through the roof.
Next, you post a slashfic on the internet.
[4] Some of the readers are confused because it contains to romantic content, but they quickly realize it's about people slashing at each other with their swords.
Your TROLLMETER goes up by a point.
Arnold: >Decide that today, you don't want to do anything. Delete everything for today on the schedule manager, and open up Mist to see if there are any decent new games. Also open up Pesterchum.
[1] OH NOEZ!
Mist has been hacked by Roflhack and now you cannot play any of your favorite games anymore! D:D:D: *sadface*
You open up Pesterchum, but you immediately feel saddened when you realize that your chumroll is empty.
Also, Darvi, could I have a little more info on what my character is supposed to be - namely, am I one of the aliens or not, and why exactly am I so important that they won't even let me have knives?
You mean you don't know?
Some say that you are the last in a long line of Chosen.
Chosen by the gods.
Chosen to rule.
Your father is King and ruler of your country, and you are the heir to the throne.
You are currently under the custody of your GREAT-GRANDFATHER, both to teach you how to be a good ruler and to protect you from harm.
Unfortunately he's really overzealous, and treats you like a finely crafted glass figurine.
You don't even like it.
You don't want to rule, and all the power, and telling other people what to do.
That's what they got democracy for, right?
You don't even know any other people of your age.
You decide to change that last bit today.
Derek: Check out that sand dune to the left.
Enrique: >Place the chest at some low place, Climb up to some high place. Equip Boots. ULTRA METOR DROP THE LOCK
Will it hit?
WILL IT HIT?
>Unplug the TV, then walk outside to check the mail/newspaper.
You unplug the TV to remove any further fire hazards.
Satisfied with your sense of security, you check the mail.
[5] Hopy Jegus there's a present in the mailbox!
It's addressed to SAM though...
Author
Topic: Roll to Strife! Turn 42: No, I'm not going to mention HHGTTG (Fuck now I did it) (Read 63851 times)