a sentinent tiger with shark teeth and giant raptor wings VS A spambot who has successfully convinced Birkal that it is a new user in need of help.
As Birkal sat at his computer desk, making chocolate cupcakes, charming multiple bitches, and drinking grape soda, something flickered at the bottom of the screen. Slightly alarmed, Birkal withdrew from the three ladies simultaneously and looked to see his IRC PM window flashing in its custom fluorescent pink colour scheme, it's a PM.
Patamon: ^_^ birkal there's a spambot!
Birkal: okay, Patamon, I'm on it ^_^
Birkal: hahahahaha
Birkal: n.n
Birkal followed the hastily pasted link and was greeted by a surprise -
Now, Birkal was not a stupid man, he knew something was up! But the personal address made him dubious, he was drawn in...
Birkal whipped off his love-making gloves, sopping wet, and began furiously typing a tl;dr -
Birkal soon realized he has gone completely off-topic, but then his PM window flashed again. Who could it be?
xXXILoveBirkalXXx: please buy scarves at our great site www.woodlandscarves99.com
Birkal: i'm not so sure. do you need me to redirect you to smogon metagames and our great Q&A thread?
xXXILoveBirkalXXx: please buy hats and shoes at our great site www.woodlandscarves99.com
Birkal: i'm going to go make chocolate cookies and be adorable.
Elsewhere, a lonely tiger by the name Corky, deformed from birth, having too many rows of teeth for his mouth, and an extremely cumbersome pair of raptor wings incapable of flight, prepares for his first day at college. A lost child since conception, he has always been oblivious and depressed, his physical aberrations making the other tigers stay well away from him. Also, his raptor wings proved far too long to maintain and have the permanent stank of tiger BO.
Corky slowly padded through the campus, apathetic and lugubrious. He came across his lecture building, class: Philosophy 101. He immediately became sentinent and lamented life, death, and spambots.
Corky got home as quickly as he could, flicked on his computer and went on IRC. He was completely apoplectic, he hunted down spambots faster than diarrhoea out a lubricated asshole.
Corky: fuck you spambot
wildislandposters01: check out our great selection of premium black fountain pens
Corky: fuck you spambot
wildislandposters01: visit our great site www.livejasmin.com
Hours pass, Corky was weary, but still determined. He had hunted down every last spambot on SynIRC... except one
Corky: fuck you spambot
xXXILoveBirkalXXx: i am not a spambot. i love birkal
Birkal: that's right
Corky recoiled from the screen, what was 'Birkal' doing in his PM? Corky's sentinence went into overdrive and he became more and more self-aware..
Corky: fuck you birkal
Corky: fuck you spambot
xXXILoveBirkalXXx: /me huggles birkal
Birkal: /me pet xXXILoveBirkalXXx
Birkal: this guy can't be a spambot
Corky: ???????????
Winner: a sentinent tiger with shark teeth and giant raptor wings VS A spambot who has successfully convinced Birkal that it is a new user in need of help.
morgan freeman armed with a toaster that shoots laser beams VS Earthworm's massive pecs
Earthworm grunted, his breath is heavy with exertion, his forehead lined with the sweat of a man who has massive pecs. A low baritone emerged from what seemed to be his chest cavity, veins popped, bones creaked, the floorboards bent beneath his massive weight.
"Dude! Nice lift, bro."
".........." Earthworm grunted and muttered, the way a man with massive pecs should do.
"What was that, like, 350?"
"3.14159265359*10^3." Earthworm shrugged, showing modesty beyond his man-tits. The man of the Earth sauntered off, knocking gym equipment over with his heaving breasts. He picked up a towel and patted himself down, paying special attention to his nipples because they tended to chafe. Earthworm would shower at the gym, but the cubicles were too small to house him.
The street smelled of toast. Burned toast and laser beams. Earthworm sniffed the air, his animalistic instincts going into hyperdrive. His nips went super-hard, his pecs began to do the dance of death. Left one up, right one down, left one down, right one up.
A slow, calm, crackled voice swam around the corner.
"You can get anything in here, if you know where to look."
The smell of toast grew stronger. Earthworm's nips cut through his deep v-neck shirt that he liked to wear.
"Old Red can hook you up."
A single ring of a bell, a spring unloading, a bright light. Earthworm whipped his head back, snapped out of the reverie of perhaps the most soothing voice in existence.
Morgan Freeman had a toaster at his hip, a trail of breadcrumbs marked the path of destruction he had left.
"Oh, Miss Daisy is going to love this."
Laser began to fill the air, a deadly disco had begun.
Earthworm's reactions were top-notch, due to all the Pokemon he played. Yet, with pecs that big it was inevitable that something was going to go wrong. A laser seared the tip of his nip. Earthworm roared in pain, but didn't slow down, his face began to glow a deep red, his pants burst at their seems, his cock went from flaccid to semi-erect.
Earthworm was within 10 meters of Freeman when a laser managed to strike him straight between his pecs, it erupted out the back, but Earthworm was unphased. His pecs had taken worse. Earthworm descended upon him, smothering the smaller man in his massive musculature, diamond-sharp nips cutting into flesh. The toaster crumbled, its metallic gleam gone.
morgan freeman armed with a toaster that shoots laser beams VS Earthworm's massive pecs
a tyrannosaurus rex with long arms carrying a shotgun VS an extremely attractive girl who can't remember whether she's 17 or 18
Nicky awoke, her head pounding. Where was she? The last she remembered was celebrating her birthday, but she could not remember which.
She adjusted her 34DD bra, and got off her tight, rosy bottom. She was in a storeroom full to the brim with ancient weaponry. Her strawberry blonde hair whipped around as she stood up.
"Damn, I'm extremely attractive." Nicky thought to herself.
In the control room a t-rex, with arms long enough to be capable of wielding a shotgun surveyed his store room of ancient weaponry, his reptilian jaw was pursed in concentration. His brothers and sisters had not gone far in life, courtesy of their ridiculously short arms, he had to support his family the only way he knew how - by keeping guard of the best goddamn store room in the whole of South Hampton.
Upon a second eye-over of the surveillance cameras something caught the t-rex's eye. A blonde lady was using all manners of ancient weaponry to pleasure herself. The t-rex dropped his shotgun and thumped his chest in fury.
"Bitch, what yo' ass doing in mah storeroom?"
"Oooh, ahhh, you're sooooo sharp." Nicky stroked the length of the machete with her delicate, long lady-fingers.
"Ow, I nicked myself."
"Ohhhh mister dinosaur sir, won't you help me fix my boo boo."
The t-rex then blew her head off with his shotgun, completely unphased by her rockin' body and sweet buns.
a tyrannosaurus rex with long arms carrying a shotgun VS an extremely attractive girl who can't remember whether she's 17 or 18
the unshaven leg of a sickly european lady VS an army of rampaging RODANs
The army of rampaging RODANs were restless, they had not done any rampaging in a good 20 minutes.
"Dude, we gotta rampage."
"Let me consult the atlas. I think we pretty much exhausted Japan, man."
"Europe looks good."
"That looks like a tight joint."
"Chill."
The RODANs mounted one another and flew to Europe, their bonds of bro-ship preventing the often-associated discomfort of flying on top of another dude.
A disembodied leg hopped around, its numerous hairs wafting gently in the breeze. A faint scent of vomit and bubonic plague permeated the air around it. It was not a shapely leg, it was scarred and blubbery, with all the definition of a blank dictionary. Yet, inexplicably, it donned an amazing pair of 12 inch red heels.
Its life thus far had been defined by the fact that it was a goddamned sentient disembodied leg.
The RODANs squawked overhead, they had spotted a landmass, and the curious smell of rotting flesh. Neither was particularly appealing but RODANs are not known to be fussy. They were going to get their rampage on.
The RODANs descended rapidly, dismounting off one another upon setting foot on the fresh green grass. The smell of rotting flesh grew stronger, now with a hint of black death. The RODANs sniffed the air with disdain, a few even tried farting to clear the air up, to no avail. A crunching noise came from the woodlands to their left, then another, then another. The crunching grew louder, leaves rustled, twigs collapsed. A glimpse of something bright red came from the brush; the RODANs looked at each other.
"Let's go shit on whatever is hiding in there."
The RODANs began sprinting over towards the woods, their sharp talons pounding numerous small creatures into amorphous blobs of flesh, fur, and exoskeleton in their wake. One RODAN got particularly excited and prematurely unleashed a long stream of white from his rear.
"Squaaaaaaaaaaawk!!! Squaaaaaaaaaawk!" The terrifying cry of several dozen RODANs filled the air. The unshaven, disembodied, stinky leg rose up from the depths of its leaf camouflage, wielding several long spokes shoved into its greasy carapace.
The RODANs descended upon the leg, their talons eviscerating the disease-hardened skin and releasing the sickness within. The RODANs continued their beatdown, but the smell grew stronger and stronger. One RODAN could no longer bear it and collapsed, its nose twitching furiously, buttocks stained in the shit of its kind. One by one the RODANs collapsed, unable to tolerate the stench that is an unshaven leg of a sickly European lady.
The leg arose from the massacre, battered, beaten, and bloody, but, it was victorious. It slowly hopped away, back to town, where it was shot upon sight for being fucking gross.
the unshaven leg of a sickly european lady VS an army of rampaging RODANs
BONUS: a bran muffin encased in a block of ice VS a largely ignored legal drinking age
The inert bran muffin encased in a block of ice sat there, slowly melting, as a largely ignored legal drinking age continued to be ignored, and reciprocatively ignored the bran muffin.
Eventually the block of ice melted completely and the bran muffin flopped to the ground, its bran thoroughly ruined, and its flavour forever lost.
BONUS: a bran muffin encased in a block of ice VS a largely ignored legal drinking age
As Birkal sat at his computer desk, making chocolate cupcakes, charming multiple bitches, and drinking grape soda, something flickered at the bottom of the screen. Slightly alarmed, Birkal withdrew from the three ladies simultaneously and looked to see his IRC PM window flashing in its custom fluorescent pink colour scheme, it's a PM.
Patamon: ^_^ birkal there's a spambot!
Birkal: okay, Patamon, I'm on it ^_^
Birkal: hahahahaha
Birkal: n.n
Birkal followed the hastily pasted link and was greeted by a surprise -
Now, Birkal was not a stupid man, he knew something was up! But the personal address made him dubious, he was drawn in...
Birkal whipped off his love-making gloves, sopping wet, and began furiously typing a tl;dr -
Birkal soon realized he has gone completely off-topic, but then his PM window flashed again. Who could it be?
xXXILoveBirkalXXx: please buy scarves at our great site www.woodlandscarves99.com
Birkal: i'm not so sure. do you need me to redirect you to smogon metagames and our great Q&A thread?
xXXILoveBirkalXXx: please buy hats and shoes at our great site www.woodlandscarves99.com
Birkal: i'm going to go make chocolate cookies and be adorable.
Elsewhere, a lonely tiger by the name Corky, deformed from birth, having too many rows of teeth for his mouth, and an extremely cumbersome pair of raptor wings incapable of flight, prepares for his first day at college. A lost child since conception, he has always been oblivious and depressed, his physical aberrations making the other tigers stay well away from him. Also, his raptor wings proved far too long to maintain and have the permanent stank of tiger BO.
Corky slowly padded through the campus, apathetic and lugubrious. He came across his lecture building, class: Philosophy 101. He immediately became sentinent and lamented life, death, and spambots.
Corky got home as quickly as he could, flicked on his computer and went on IRC. He was completely apoplectic, he hunted down spambots faster than diarrhoea out a lubricated asshole.
Corky: fuck you spambot
wildislandposters01: check out our great selection of premium black fountain pens
Corky: fuck you spambot
wildislandposters01: visit our great site www.livejasmin.com
Hours pass, Corky was weary, but still determined. He had hunted down every last spambot on SynIRC... except one
Corky: fuck you spambot
xXXILoveBirkalXXx: i am not a spambot. i love birkal
Birkal: that's right
Corky recoiled from the screen, what was 'Birkal' doing in his PM? Corky's sentinence went into overdrive and he became more and more self-aware..
Corky: fuck you birkal
Corky: fuck you spambot
xXXILoveBirkalXXx: /me huggles birkal
Birkal: /me pet xXXILoveBirkalXXx
Birkal: this guy can't be a spambot
Corky: ???????????
Winner: a sentinent tiger with shark teeth and giant raptor wings VS A spambot who has successfully convinced Birkal that it is a new user in need of help.
morgan freeman armed with a toaster that shoots laser beams VS Earthworm's massive pecs
Earthworm grunted, his breath is heavy with exertion, his forehead lined with the sweat of a man who has massive pecs. A low baritone emerged from what seemed to be his chest cavity, veins popped, bones creaked, the floorboards bent beneath his massive weight.
"Dude! Nice lift, bro."
".........." Earthworm grunted and muttered, the way a man with massive pecs should do.
"What was that, like, 350?"
"3.14159265359*10^3." Earthworm shrugged, showing modesty beyond his man-tits. The man of the Earth sauntered off, knocking gym equipment over with his heaving breasts. He picked up a towel and patted himself down, paying special attention to his nipples because they tended to chafe. Earthworm would shower at the gym, but the cubicles were too small to house him.
The street smelled of toast. Burned toast and laser beams. Earthworm sniffed the air, his animalistic instincts going into hyperdrive. His nips went super-hard, his pecs began to do the dance of death. Left one up, right one down, left one down, right one up.
A slow, calm, crackled voice swam around the corner.
"You can get anything in here, if you know where to look."
The smell of toast grew stronger. Earthworm's nips cut through his deep v-neck shirt that he liked to wear.
"Old Red can hook you up."
A single ring of a bell, a spring unloading, a bright light. Earthworm whipped his head back, snapped out of the reverie of perhaps the most soothing voice in existence.
Morgan Freeman had a toaster at his hip, a trail of breadcrumbs marked the path of destruction he had left.
"Oh, Miss Daisy is going to love this."
Laser began to fill the air, a deadly disco had begun.
Earthworm's reactions were top-notch, due to all the Pokemon he played. Yet, with pecs that big it was inevitable that something was going to go wrong. A laser seared the tip of his nip. Earthworm roared in pain, but didn't slow down, his face began to glow a deep red, his pants burst at their seems, his cock went from flaccid to semi-erect.
Earthworm was within 10 meters of Freeman when a laser managed to strike him straight between his pecs, it erupted out the back, but Earthworm was unphased. His pecs had taken worse. Earthworm descended upon him, smothering the smaller man in his massive musculature, diamond-sharp nips cutting into flesh. The toaster crumbled, its metallic gleam gone.
morgan freeman armed with a toaster that shoots laser beams VS Earthworm's massive pecs
a tyrannosaurus rex with long arms carrying a shotgun VS an extremely attractive girl who can't remember whether she's 17 or 18
Nicky awoke, her head pounding. Where was she? The last she remembered was celebrating her birthday, but she could not remember which.
She adjusted her 34DD bra, and got off her tight, rosy bottom. She was in a storeroom full to the brim with ancient weaponry. Her strawberry blonde hair whipped around as she stood up.
"Damn, I'm extremely attractive." Nicky thought to herself.
In the control room a t-rex, with arms long enough to be capable of wielding a shotgun surveyed his store room of ancient weaponry, his reptilian jaw was pursed in concentration. His brothers and sisters had not gone far in life, courtesy of their ridiculously short arms, he had to support his family the only way he knew how - by keeping guard of the best goddamn store room in the whole of South Hampton.
Upon a second eye-over of the surveillance cameras something caught the t-rex's eye. A blonde lady was using all manners of ancient weaponry to pleasure herself. The t-rex dropped his shotgun and thumped his chest in fury.
"Bitch, what yo' ass doing in mah storeroom?"
"Oooh, ahhh, you're sooooo sharp." Nicky stroked the length of the machete with her delicate, long lady-fingers.
"Ow, I nicked myself."
"Ohhhh mister dinosaur sir, won't you help me fix my boo boo."
The t-rex then blew her head off with his shotgun, completely unphased by her rockin' body and sweet buns.
a tyrannosaurus rex with long arms carrying a shotgun VS an extremely attractive girl who can't remember whether she's 17 or 18
the unshaven leg of a sickly european lady VS an army of rampaging RODANs
The army of rampaging RODANs were restless, they had not done any rampaging in a good 20 minutes.
"Dude, we gotta rampage."
"Let me consult the atlas. I think we pretty much exhausted Japan, man."
"Europe looks good."
"That looks like a tight joint."
"Chill."
The RODANs mounted one another and flew to Europe, their bonds of bro-ship preventing the often-associated discomfort of flying on top of another dude.
A disembodied leg hopped around, its numerous hairs wafting gently in the breeze. A faint scent of vomit and bubonic plague permeated the air around it. It was not a shapely leg, it was scarred and blubbery, with all the definition of a blank dictionary. Yet, inexplicably, it donned an amazing pair of 12 inch red heels.
Its life thus far had been defined by the fact that it was a goddamned sentient disembodied leg.
The RODANs squawked overhead, they had spotted a landmass, and the curious smell of rotting flesh. Neither was particularly appealing but RODANs are not known to be fussy. They were going to get their rampage on.
The RODANs descended rapidly, dismounting off one another upon setting foot on the fresh green grass. The smell of rotting flesh grew stronger, now with a hint of black death. The RODANs sniffed the air with disdain, a few even tried farting to clear the air up, to no avail. A crunching noise came from the woodlands to their left, then another, then another. The crunching grew louder, leaves rustled, twigs collapsed. A glimpse of something bright red came from the brush; the RODANs looked at each other.
"Let's go shit on whatever is hiding in there."
The RODANs began sprinting over towards the woods, their sharp talons pounding numerous small creatures into amorphous blobs of flesh, fur, and exoskeleton in their wake. One RODAN got particularly excited and prematurely unleashed a long stream of white from his rear.
"Squaaaaaaaaaaawk!!! Squaaaaaaaaaawk!" The terrifying cry of several dozen RODANs filled the air. The unshaven, disembodied, stinky leg rose up from the depths of its leaf camouflage, wielding several long spokes shoved into its greasy carapace.
The RODANs descended upon the leg, their talons eviscerating the disease-hardened skin and releasing the sickness within. The RODANs continued their beatdown, but the smell grew stronger and stronger. One RODAN could no longer bear it and collapsed, its nose twitching furiously, buttocks stained in the shit of its kind. One by one the RODANs collapsed, unable to tolerate the stench that is an unshaven leg of a sickly European lady.
The leg arose from the massacre, battered, beaten, and bloody, but, it was victorious. It slowly hopped away, back to town, where it was shot upon sight for being fucking gross.
the unshaven leg of a sickly european lady VS an army of rampaging RODANs
BONUS: a bran muffin encased in a block of ice VS a largely ignored legal drinking age
The inert bran muffin encased in a block of ice sat there, slowly melting, as a largely ignored legal drinking age continued to be ignored, and reciprocatively ignored the bran muffin.
Eventually the block of ice melted completely and the bran muffin flopped to the ground, its bran thoroughly ruined, and its flavour forever lost.
BONUS: a bran muffin encased in a block of ice VS a largely ignored legal drinking age
