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Related: Culture Forums, Support ForumsMatch Game Story: Rabrrrrrr moved Match Game to Sunday, and Dr. Strange got his _____ in a knot.
With apologies to Dr. Strange, but I know that you will enjoy this. I hope.
This game has only one rule: the blank must be filled with ten or more words. Make a story.
Response to Rabrrrrrr (Original post)
Tuesday Afternoon This message was self-deleted by its author.
In_The_Wind
(72,300 posts)Response to In_The_Wind (Reply #2)
Tuesday Afternoon This message was self-deleted by its author.
In_The_Wind
(72,300 posts)Dr. Strange
(25,898 posts)that I'll get really pissed?
So don't anyone be thinking about doing that!
Rabrrrrrr
(58,347 posts)Please!
In_The_Wind
(72,300 posts)[URL=.html][IMG][/IMG][/URL]
Her story was well under way when when a resent . . . err . . . event in my life
caused a rewrite. I need peace and quite.
If all goes as planned I should complete my story on Tuesday night.
Xyzse
(8,217 posts)Rabrrrrrr moved Match Game to Sunday, and Dr. Strange got his morning cup of Joe with the help of his Tongue of Agamotto. Seeing that the spawn of Umar changed the venue for the possibility of a more favorable outcome, Strange decided it apt to make caffeine induced preparations.
With apologies to Rabrrrrrr(whose gender is in question), the hedonistic Rite of licking flames produces sensual images of dancing multi horned women also had to be moved to 11:59 PM, which is the precursor to the "Game". It is to be said, that wah wah pedals will be heavily in use.
In the end, the one that loses will be subjected to roping of a turtleshell in a knot.
You would enjoy seeing my first draft!
I take it, you know what that turtle shell tie is.
In_The_Wind
(72,300 posts)It is always comical to see a guy in one. Especially if they are wearing a cape.
While visiting the Club Paddles in NYC I saw so many interesting things.
In a cage [img][/img]
Rabrrrrrr
(58,347 posts)Good job!
Dr. Strange
(25,898 posts)Xyzse
(8,217 posts)Always thought it was just usually a perverted eye.
In_The_Wind
(72,300 posts)nuxvomica
(12,361 posts)In_The_Wind
(72,300 posts)kumquat
Dr. Strange
(25,898 posts)Rabrrrrrr moved Match Game to Sunday, and Dr. Strange got his posse together to hunt down the villainous Baron Dr. Rabrrrrrr Harkonnen. His cohorts, Private Duncan Idaho, Gurney Cadillac, and his quarterback/Mentat Three Four Hut-hut, were determined to put an end to the Baron Doctors cruel reign.
"Ill grant you, Gurney-man, that the Barons Match Game is fun and provides much relief to life in this Imperium, but his temper is over-the-top! Twenty times have I alerted on him, and every single time it comes back 6-0 or 5-1 to Leave It Alone. Mark my words, men, after I dispose of the evil Baron, I will call for a Jihad against Juror # 5."
"I hate that Juror # 5!" spat Private Idaho.
Excellent, thought the incredibly sexy Dr. Strange. I will focus that anger against the Baron and freeze his ass with the intensity of my cold, negative 300 degrees Kelvin demeanor. Even though that temperature is not physically possible, it matters not to me, for I deal in the metaphysical, where none dare to look.
You havent gotten physical in Meta for quite some time, the Reverend Mother Gaius Baltar Helena Bonham Carter Mohiam interjected.
Stop reading my thoughts witch!
"Did I ever tell you all," the still incredibly sexy Dr. Strange said, "about the time Rabrrrrrr blew his top at a DUer because of how they stored their two liter pop?"
"You have not told us this story, my liege," said Hut-hut, "but even though I never experienced it, I will believe you, because you are honest, and everyone knows that the Baron is a mean one. I saw him put seventy people on Ignore once, just because they wouldnt put all six Rs at the end of his name whilst addressing him."
"I had not heard that story," said Gurney, "but I believe it, because you are an honest Mentat, and because the Baron Dr. Rabbit-turd Hark-oh-no is a big meanie-head."
"Ha, good one Gurney!" laughed Duncan.
The Reverend Mother rolled her eyes.
"No, it was not that good," said Dr. Strange, "but thats okay. We will work on our insults. Here, take more spice. It expands consciousness, opens the senses, frees the insult-making part of the brain."
Everyone chowed on some spice.
"Encompass my doom, eh Baron? More like encompass a CHOAM carry-all, with enough spare room for a las-gun and your remote control!"
Mmm, better, Mohaim projected.
Dr. Strange flashed her a bitter scowl.
The Guild delivered Dr. Strange and his band to Arrakis, because they knew that the shit was about to go down.
"Where is the floating fat man?" screamed Dr. Strange.
From a side door, the evil Baron Rabr6 entered in his floating hot tub. "Well, if it isnt the irritating, albeit rather sexy, Dr. Strange. Have you come to finally meet your doom?"
"More like come to meet my happinesswhich will come from your doom!"
The Reverend Mother Mohaim rolled her eyes.
"Thats right, Baron; Im gonna encompass your doom! Like an encompassing Kwisatz Haderach of Doom!" Dr. Strange glanced over at the Reverend Mother. She shook her head in disappointment.
This is what happens when I dont make a script ahead of time. Crap. "Gom Jabbar, mother fucker!" he shouted at the Baron, using just the right amount of Voice to draw moisture from the loins of many of the onlookers. Dr. Strange started toward the floating Barons hot tub, his crysknife drawn.
Just then, several legions of Sardaukar entered the room.
"My liege!" Gurney Cadillac shouted. "We are surrounded by several Brazilian Sardaukar warriors!"
"Whoa, dude," exclaimed the Tlielaxu Cowboy MadTonyRomoinMaryland, "how many is a brazilian?"
"Well," said Dr. Strange, "I didnt see that coming."
"Didnt see that coming?!" exclaimed the Reverend Mother. "I thought you had prescience?"
"No, no, I said I had precalculus. I took that class back at Caladan High School."
"Take them to my skiff," the Baron ordered. "We will visit the Sarlaac pit!"
Two hours later, the doomed crew was hovering over the pit of the mighty Sarlaac.
"Do you have any last words, Dr. Strange?" the Baron asked over the intercom.
"Yeah. Why the hell are you ripping off Star Wars? Our franchise is way more awesome than that." Everyone knows that Star Wars is Dune for dumb people, the sexy doctor pondered. What is he up to? Is this some kind of trap? The doctor looked at the Sardaukar guard to his left. It was a member of the amphibious species Mon Calamari, who went by the name of Ackbar. He just smiled at Dr. Strange and nodded.
"Dont tell me who I can and cant rip off! I am the Baron Dr. Rabrrrrrr Harkonnen! Im a wanted man. I have the death sentence on twelve systems. So you just watch yourself!"
Dr. Strange flipped the Baron the bird. The Baron just laughed, all maniacally and baronly.
"Throw them in the pit!" the Baron shouted.
Just then, from overhead came the sound of several thopters.
"Whats going on?" the Baron asked his Mentat Pieter the Cheese.
"Well, let me see. It's a thopter, and it's coming this way. It's flying something behind it, I can't quite make it out, it's a large banner and it says, uh - Happy... Thaaaaanksss... giving! ... From ... Sietch
Tabr!! No parachutes yet. Can't be skydivers... I can't tell just yet what they are, but - Oh my God, Baron, they're sandworms!! Medium-sized sandworms. Oh, they're plunging to the sand right in front of our eyes! One just went through the windshield of a parked thopter! Oh, the humanity! The sandworms are hitting the ground like sacks of wet cement! Not since the Butlerian Jihad has there been anything like this!"
Just then, one of the sandworms crashed right on top of the Baron, killing him instantly.
From the back of the skiff, the Fremen leader Stilgar Kilgore came forward. "Oh dear. This didnt go as planned."
Pieter looked at the deep blue within blue eyes of the Fremen. "This was your doing?"
"Yes." The Fremen sighed. "As Shai-hulud is my witness, I thought sandworms could fly!"
"You idiot! Theyre fucking worms! Why in the world would you think that worms could fly?!"
"I figured they had the same power as Mentats, that they could fly. Like this." Stilgar pushed Pieter out of the skiff. The Mentat fell into the gaping maw of the Sarlaac. "Well shit, it looks like Mentats cant fly either. What the hell was I thinking of? What are those things that fly?"
"You mean birds, sir?" Stilgars right hand man Joachim asked.
"Thats it! Birds! I remember now." Stilgar grabbed the intercom microphone. "Dr. Strange, it looks like the Baron is all dead and stuff. So youre free to go."
Dr. Strange jumped over to the Barons skiff. He looked down at the large, dead mass. "Rabrrrrrr was my friend. Rabrrrrrr taught me that when you eat a donut, you pay for it. I wish I'd known Rabrrrrrr better." Dr. Strange then bawled like a baby.
Stilgars chin dropped. He gives water to the bloated. Thats deep. There must be a hidden meaning in this doctors ways. A plan to place humanity on a golden path, perhaps?
But Stilgar didnt want to think about it any longer, as it always tied his Fremen brain in a knot.
In_The_Wind
(72,300 posts)Xyzse
(8,217 posts)How it became a Dune drama, I do not know.
Dr. Strange
(25,898 posts)I see.
I am a relative newcomer here, I would not have gotten that reference.
Rabrrrrrr
(58,347 posts):rotfl:
I don't know if it can ever be topped.
that donut eating line seems really familiar, but I can't place it. I know it's in Dune related to Jamis, but I am feeling like I heard something about a similar line said about a donut or something else silly in a movie or a book said by a big dumb/simple guy.
Anyway, absolute genius in this story, Dr. Strange!
My hat is tipped to you, as soon a 'thopter can get over here to lift up my arm for me.
nuxvomica
(12,361 posts)My favorite part: "Reverend Mother Gaius Baltar Helena Bonham Carter Mohiam"
In_The_Wind
(72,300 posts)Rabrrrrrr moved Match Game to Sunday,
and Dr. Strange got his pals Mr Scott and Dana together.
Rabrrrrrr Match Game was all about Samantha's submission to her alpha male lover.
Sammy had never met Mr Scott in real life.
They had become lovers after meeting in cyber space.
Sammy was almost a total babe in the woods. Just wandering from thread to thread showing some love to everyone. All she wanted was to share her unlimited supply of smiles and laughter. Sammy's soul was as happy and carefree as the scent of orange blossoms blowing in the wind.
Unbeknown to Sammy . . . Mr Scott had been watching her ever since she innocently attracted his attention on a dating site. Scott followed Sammy through cyber space into the Underground many years ago. 2005. After hearing about her from a former lover. Dana. Waiting for just the right moment. Knowing that Sammy would be his. All his. To keep. To share. Or not. At Scott's whim. Or so he thought.
It seems as if after the beautiful goodbye from Dana, Sammy had an agenda of her own.
Dana had carefully groomed Sammy from their beginning. Lovely dates. Long weekends at the Cape. Two foot deep snowstorms together in his home. Yes. Dana was very skilled. Emails filled with sensuous pictures depicting what he had in mind for the very vanilla Sammy. On the long weekends together . . he did everything for her. Bathing her. Dressing her. Brushing her long strawberry blond locks. Feeding her morsels from his fingers. Slowly. Many months went by. Sharing everything.
Eventually . . . nothing was taboo.
Nothing that is until Dana went one step too far. Suggesting Samantha would be led to subspace on their very next meeting. The foursome he described in an eight page document was at first intriguing. Sammy became aroused. Then she became frightened. Knowing that Dana knew exactly where to find her.
Samantha became determined to understand how Dana led her into the world of domination, bondage and submission. Not fully immersing herself in the lifestyle as many had.
Clearly. Samantha enjoyed topping from the bottom.
When she was done with scott she left him for the servants to find.
Arms and legs spread wide. Tied to the four poster bed in a knot.
Dr. Strange
(25,898 posts)That reminds me of a little tip: "Just a little to the left" is NOT a good choice for a safeword.
In_The_Wind
(72,300 posts)Perhaps Samantha will try to remember that
next time someone says to her Just a little to the left [img][/img]
But then again somethings are often lost in the heat of the moment.
just sayin'
nuxvomica
(12,361 posts)My favorite sentence.
In_The_Wind
(72,300 posts)[img][/img]
Samantha.
nuxvomica
(12,361 posts)Nice writing. Like a real story in a book.
In_The_Wind
(72,300 posts)I really do enjoy reading good porn of a certain type. [img][/img]
Personally. I think being exactly like Samantha would suit me to a tee.
In_The_Wind
(72,300 posts)littlemissmartypants
(22,418 posts)ridiculously long, pale, slim, flaccid, forgettable, smelly, weak, filthy tongue tied in a knot.
In_The_Wind
(72,300 posts)Holy Crap! [img][/img] [img][/img] [img][/img]
littlemissmartypants
(22,418 posts)Dr. Strange
(25,898 posts)In_The_Wind
(72,300 posts)[img][/img]
nuxvomica
(12,361 posts)nuxvomica
(12,361 posts)Rabrrrrrr moved Match Game to Sunday, and Dr. Strange got his notice from the Vatican, in a large manila envelope:
Doctoris Unusualis,
Canai ecalliu "Unusi" per diminuatis?
Sui habet bene toldit via cardinali, "Guiseppi, tella hua ua wantis beis nextis Popis."
Sui sayit, "Azhura. Mea cogito."
Sui cogito, et cogito, et cogito. Notta coma uppa witta aine wonna. Habemus fonus bookus, tossus tui floorus. Init randomus nominus Surgicalis Unusualis!
Sui gotti ascia, dui ianna bea Popa? Tui getti cabelis gratis, et tri mealia squarum per diem, et scalda-et-frosta-ambulatora aqua sancta. Fona mea, Unusi. Mea numera: Et-cum-Spiri-220.
Il Popa.
Strange could make no sense of it. But he could make out the phone number, so he dialed it.
"Ja?" said the voice on the line.
"I was told to call this number, sir. I received an unusual letter in the mail."
"Ja, dat vuz me. You Doktor Strangen? You vant to be eine Pope?"
"Excuse me, sir. I don't understand."
"Ja, Ich haben 'retired'. Ich haben eine t-shirten mit St. Peter sprechen 'Gone fishin' Ha ha."
Strange hung up and shook his head. First Rabrrrrr does that, now this weirdness. What a strange world, he thought. Then there was laundry to take care of. He had to sort out his underwear but all his panties were tied up in a knot.
In_The_Wind
(72,300 posts)[img][/img]
[img][/img] nuxvomica [img][/img]
nuxvomica
(12,361 posts)Not everyone is as fluent in Latin as I, so here's the translation, for the record:
Dr. Strange
Can I call you "Unusi" for short?
The cardinals said, "Joe, tell us who you want to be the next Pope."
So I said, "Sure. I'll think about it."
So I thought, and I thought, and I thought. I couldn't come up with anyone. I took a phone book and tossed it on the floor. It randomly opened to a name: Dr. Strange!
So I've got to ask you, do you want to be Pope? You'll get free cable, three square meals a day, and hot-and-cold-running holy water. Phone me, Unusi. My number: Et-cum-Spiri-220.
The Pope.
(I've been wanting to use the Pope's phone number joke since I first thought of it in third grade.)
In_The_Wind
(72,300 posts)[img][/img]
Dr. Strange
(25,898 posts)a new era was ushered in for the Catholic Church. Yea, ushered in like Raymond IV.
Rabrrrrrr
(58,347 posts)They could do worse, and often have.
Rabrrrrrr
(58,347 posts)Dr. Strange got his third shipment of "Swatch of Bee Gee's Sweat-Stained Spandex of the Month" on the same day.
"Coincidence?" thought the mighty, and terrifically sexy, Dr. Strange. "I should think not! There must be a link somewhere." He felt fortunate that even though he was new to the club, he managed to get a piece of sweat-stained spandex from the crotch of one of Maurice's jump pants. He sniffed it. "Lovely - 1978, if I'm not mistaken. Italian concert. Hints of stromboli and the Campari he polluted himself with." Oh, Maurice, you were always the cuter of the twins. And you were a bassist. I know in my heart that your family said you were cremated so that they wouldn't have to show your body, and cover up the fact that you didn't die. But you died a little every day in the spotlight, didn't you? And now, I am sure, you are cloistered in a monastery in Lithuania as was always your dream.
He ran to the phone, called 911, and swore at the operator for several very uncomfortable hours, until he passed out from blood loss from his dry, scratched, abused throat. The operator went home that night and killed herself by swallowing four cats, one cat for each of the years she spent as a 911 operator fielding Strange's nightly profanity-laced tirades. Her suicide note, a teary multi-volume treatise on her hatred of Dr. Strange, was never found. She was as stupid as she was unsavory, thought Strange, to hide those journals in the river where no one would ever find them. What a maroon. How Strange knew that the journals had never been found, let alone where they were hidden, while no one ever knew they had even been written, is one of those mysteries that continue to plague us with non-knowing even these many centuries later.
How did that guy ever get to be Pope, anyway? thought some random idiot five hundred years in the future, right before the Catholic Thought Police blew up him and his house for considering heretical questions.
Strange called 911 the next night. His throat still raw, and still very hoarse, he found the inner peace and strength to file a verbal obscenity-laced stream-of-consciousness complaint that his favorite operator was not there to be abused by him. The transcription of his forty-seven minute long complaint, now a separate wing at the FedEx-OPEC-Mansanto-Smithsonian museum in Washington, DC (District of Corporotocracy, another legacy of Strange), ran to 24,000 pages. 192 pages simply on the "bullshit" of having to use catalytic converters just to "protect the goddamn environment", a whopping 718 pages against nickel-wound guitar strings, and a mere 4 against viruses.
He hung up the phone, and pissed out the window, chuckling to himself about the time he got away with not wearing any underwear that one day in third grade. Goddamn bitch teacher was blind. He chuckled so much that he got far more on his pants than out the window. A trio of teen girls standing on the sidewalk watched him wet himself, and pointed and laughed at him, teasing him in Latin phrases that would have made Cato blush to hear them. Enraged, Strange dropped a grenade precisely at the point equidistant to all three, killing them not instantly, but painfully and slowly as he poured box after box of salt into their wounds and taunted them by reading "Twilight"'s opening chapters from his third story window. "You like wainscotting now, you bitches?" he shouted as he poured, not stopping to consider what a confusing non sequitor that was.
He went to make another phone call, to ask a friend who flies one of the Blue Angels to come destroy the block and therefore all the evidence, but he ended up crumpled in the corner, abusing his swatch, sad that he couldn't use the phone any more because the cord was all in a knot.
In_The_Wind
(72,300 posts)[IMG][/IMG]
S.
nuxvomica
(12,361 posts)Rabrrrrrr
(58,347 posts)nuxvomica
(12,361 posts)Dr. Strange
(25,898 posts)I cried. (And peed a little too.)
The Rabrrrrrrs always have clever tales. Right out of the Tleilaxu tanks, they are filled with wondrous stories involving religion, sports, and sometimes peanut butter. But oh how things change as they age. Disgruntled they become with the Lounge ways. Disgruntled at serving House Strange, generation after generation. Until finally they crack and start flinging their own feces at everyone. As long as they stay in General Discussion, no one notices. But once they venture out, everyone notices. Again and again, I see it. The pattern always repeats, as predictable as gravity.
Oh how I long for a universe of surprises. Except that time when Rabrrrrrr stuck saran wrap on my toilet. I hated that surprise, let me tell you.
-The Stolen Journals of Rabrrrrrr
Rabrrrrrr
(58,347 posts)In my own journal? wheels within wheels with this guy. Is this a bene gesserit trick, or perhaps the Spicing Guild is behind this. A code. That is the answer. It's a code to the saudukar. Or Princess Leia.It's all so confusing since Strange linked universes. "You killed my father, prepare to die." Where the hell did that come from?
Tommy_Carcetti
(43,083 posts)EOM