Wyvern Posted December 7, 2004 Report Posted December 7, 2004 Pen members searching around the Winter Carnival tilt their heads curiously as they come across a strange-looking booth set up in the Banquet Hall, built entirely out of cheap plastic with a multi-colored variety of buttons patterning its surface. At the center of the booth rests a tall wall of television sets, with a few old-school black-and-white crystal balls decorating its sides for nostalgic effect. As members slowly approach the area surrounding the booth, a large television set at the center of the wall suddenly flicks on, buzzing with static for a moment and immediately catching their attention. The pennites squint as the static on the screen slowly fades, and raise their brows as it's replaced with what appears to be Wyvern in a kinky safari outfit. On the screen, Wyvern turns towards the audience and exclaims: "Hi there, and welcome to the Pen Poem Discovery Channel. My name's Wyvern Q. Almostdragon, and I'll be your safari guide for this Winter Carnival activity." With that, Wyvern takes out an Almost Dragonic Brand Machete, and swings it left and right for effect. The audience cringes as the blade comes loose from the machete and flies off of the screen to some unknown area, provoking a loud screech from some kind of large animal and causing Wyvern to freeze in place. "Ehehehe..." jitters the lizard after a moment, scratching the top of his safari hat with a claw only to find some unidentifiable sticky plant residue there. "Anyway, I'm here to offer you a way to enjoy the well-written poetry of the Pen in a creative and helpful manner, and to earn 20 earned geld for the exercise in the process. Interested?" Several of the Pen members immediately nod upon hearing the potential amounts of geld, scurrying closer to the television. "Excellent." says Wyvern on the television, beginning to make his way through the jungle as he continues: "This exercise is divided into three parts, hence the large amount of geld one can earn from it. First, you must find a poem that has zero comments on it in the Banquet Hall. Don't worry, there are enough of these to go around for everyone. Next, you must introduce this abandoned poem to the masses through a creative post in this thread, involving a television station of some sort. I am currently using the Discovery Channel's safari activities, but there are an endless number of channels available: the News Channel (CNPEN), the Sports Channel, the Comedy Network, the Sci-fi Channel, the Cooking Channel, and anything else you can think of... the buttons on the plastic table allow you to dream up any sort of channel you want. Finally, for the last step of this exercise, you must provide a commentary for the poem you found, noting specifically what you liked about it and anything that you feel could be improved in it. Please post a link to the poem in your creative post in this thread, so we can all read it and see what you thought of it." The audience stares blankly at the television screen as Wyvern stops talking, scratching their heads and mumbling to each other in confusion. Wyvern brushes the scales back on his head and turns to the screen once again, grinning and hissing: "Now, I realize that sounds like a very complicated procedure, which is why I'd like to provide you with an example of it by kick-starting this thread off. Observe." The Pen members watch the T.V carefully as Wyvern begins moving into the deeper depths of the strange jungle, brushing past several enormous verdant fruits and dodging the occasional large mosquito that hovers through the air. Arriving at a clearing with a small pond, the overgrown lizard lets out a long sigh and unfolds a crumpled Almost Dragonic Brand Map, which essentially depicts a series of random doodles that the lizard made during the last philosophical Pen debate. "Lossst again" hisses the lizard to himself quietly before turning to the camera and clearing his throat. "As you can see, ladies and gentlemen, the wilds of the Cabagga Rainforests are famous for their many jumbo-sized kiwis and large annoying insects. Fortunatly, clearings such as this one provide travelers with much-needed rest spots. Mother Nature must have surely had sofas in mind when she created large bush patches to sit on." With that, the overgrown lizard leans back on what appears to be a large bush, only to fall backwards and collapse as the "bush" splits up into a dozen smaller patches. Crying out in surprise and collapsing, he scrambles to his feet only to gawk as he finds himself surrounded by a gang of wiggly cabbages. "So that's why they call it the Cabagga Rainforests..." mutters the lizard to himself in fascination. Turning to the camera and giving a two thumbs up sign for ratings, the lizard turns towards the cabbages and suddenly notices a piece of paper stuck to one of them. Kneeling down to examine the sheet, he carefully plucks it from the cabbage and begins to read it over: "A Portrait of Gwaihir"
Tanuchan Posted December 7, 2004 Report Posted December 7, 2004 (edited) As people turn on the Weather Channel, there is a special report going on about the feelings that the changing of seasons bring to people. In the middle of a quite empty park, Tanny observes the winter scene. At a sign from someone invisible to the camera, she turns and smiles. "This is a cold winter, and this park is empty now. However, some months ago, we came here to record this..." The scene changes to show several children playing, their lively voices filling the air and their colored clothes bringing a sharp contrast to the present white and grey park. "How does the change of seasons influence the mood of people? This is what we are trying to show, through some images taken at different times of the year." The scene now shows the same park but later in the year, the Summer joy giving place to Autumn peace. The camera focus on something that tumbles and swirls at distance, and zooms in to show a sheet of newspaper dancing in the breeze, mixed to some reddish-brown leaves. Tanny picks the newspaper, smoothing it and showing the page to the camera. It's a page from the Literary Supplement, and it shows a poem... #51 and #52, Autumn Poems by Mira. Edited December 8, 2004 by Tanuchan
Peredhil Posted December 8, 2004 Report Posted December 8, 2004 Joel's toothy grin fades into the heavenly music and the ministry hour is over. Time for B.E.T. to get back to its more usual programming. The voice-over begins in Barry White timbered tones... Upcoming are the ten hottest Hip-Hop artists to ever get the low-down on the down-low. Coming out from behind their buxom big-butt video babes, they give the inner secret introductions to the symbolic rap-sheets in the video's big units and packages. But first, the local channel feed, five minutes of every hour. While rhythm-nation-wide viewers are whisked away to frolic and play at the end of their Sunday with the local hip-hop cats and b-boys doing flares up and down the stairs -- But the local channel at the Pen points it's video writing appurtances to a poignant plea for understanding between you and me, right here on B.E.T... Doing it PEN-styleeee. Yes, it's a Jade opportunity for the jaded to read her poetry right here, only on Pen B.E.T.
Appy Posted December 8, 2004 Report Posted December 8, 2004 (edited) "..and only you can win!" bombastic music fades out "Soooooooo... Tell us who of these guys and gals forgot his or her lyrics in the last probe and win this fantastic car!" speaker turns to the jury panel "And now for the moment we've all been waiting for, the first judgement of our professional, and I might add, above all devillish panel! Mister X, please, your comments!" Mister X: "Well Appy, miss." Appy: "That's mistress to you" winks, audience laughs obediently Mister X: "Hahaha, right. short, thoughtful pause I first would like to say how hard everyone's worked so far, and that I'm very proud on all of them for making it here. Jerry however, had a bit of trouble with the danceroutine it seems. Plus, even though it's hard for me to say, he doesn't seem the type for this kindof event. The punk hair and ripped jeans are just not from this age anymore. Sorry Jer." fumbles a bit with a card until he gets it standing upright in front of him, the name Jerry written on it in messy handwriting. Audience applauds. Appy: "Well well well, isn't that interesting ladies and gentlemen! But nothing is decided yet, let's see what Miss Y has to say about all this. Miss Y?" Miss Y: nods cordially, sweetish smile"Thank you, Appy. I too would like to comment on how hard everyone's been working. sighs But comming from the music business myself I know how one should behave of course, and unfotunatly Felicia doesn't seem to understand that you just can't push yourself in front and fight your way through the throng just to get to the front of the stage! public laughs obediently again, Felicia looks close to tears hehe, I'm sorry hun, but your chick-terror has the whole group confused and we can't really deal with that at this moment! gracefully puts her card in front of her, the word Felicia in neat handwriting. Audience applauds, a few shout boo and the now openly crying Felicia Appy: "Oh my, now this is not totally unexpected, after that little disaster last week dutiful but uncertain laughter from audience but it's all still very exciting! It's all up to our last panel member now! Mister Z, if you would be so kind?" Mister Z, who had been writing ever since the show started again, puts a big card in front of him, which reads: Limitless He then gets up, and leaves the studio without a word long .....long pause flustered and confused Appy "WELL! another pause, some thoughtful listening to earpiece Ladies and gentlemen, this must be the first in live televsion and popstar shows around the world. It seems that Mister Z has refused to give his vote for obvious stated reason and has now left the building! I guess we'll have to find us a new panel member now! nervous laugh We'll be back with, hopefully, more news and a solution! ..after these messages... fade to commercials Edited December 9, 2004 by Appy
Katzaniel Posted December 12, 2004 Report Posted December 12, 2004 (edited) Bam! A closeup of some colourful pasta salad zooms to the right and blurs momentarily as the camera-person regains the focus. A white canvas balanced delicately on a countertop, red paint splattered, round and reminiscent of a tomato. Bam! The canvas now sports blue in the upper corner, and Bam! orange bottom-centre. The screen leisurely moves to the left to show Katzaniel, sporting a ridiculous chef's hat and aiming a paintgun. Bam! Bam! Bam! "Now let's ki-" she is thankfully interupted by a polite cough from behind the camera. "Oh, yeah..." she mutters. Setting down the gun, Katzaniel turns to face the screen. "Welcome to the Katzaniel Craft and Cooking show! Notice how I tastefully refrained from pronouncing those with K's! Anyway, we're going to prepare a carefully designed masterpiece today while the turkey is cooking. First of course we must put the food in the oven, but once that work is done we can begin to have some real fun." For the next ten minutes the camera dutifully follows Katzaniel spicing and stuffing a turkey, setting it in the oven, and indicating the timer, all the while providing descriptive explanation of how to follow along at home. Then she returns to the paintgun. Bam! Bam Bam! Bam Bam Bam Bam Bam Bam Bam! The camera zooming toward the canvas and its colourful array of spots is actually quite aesthetically pleasing. "Now, of course I'll need to describe to the folks at home how to reproduce the effect..." Katzaniel is soon absorbed in artistic details about colours, patterns and style. Occasionally going back to the gun to demonstrate a point, Katzaniel is well into the fine points of using a paintbrush to add texture and emotion to a piece when a beep is heard off to the left. "No, not yet," says the tigertaur, adjusting her hat and motioning for the camera to stay on the canvas. "See this blue circle next to the orange? As I mentioned earlier, they're complimentary colours. But to the discerning eye, it isn't quite right. What we need is to fiddle with the shape and texture... just slightly, like so... and the subconscious will much more readily accept the tones. When working with this type of oily paint, it's also important to remember -" The beeping grows steadily more insistent but Katzaniel manages to ignore it and keep talking. Minutes drag by, and still she is animatedly discussing the artwork. The beeping is increasingly annoying, and the cameraman attempts every so often to interject. "I think that -" "Not now." "Look, Katz -" "We're busy over here!" "That turkey -" "Would you shut up about that already?" Finally, Chef Katzaniel is able to ignore it no longer. A black plume of smoke wafts in front of the camera and suddenly watery spots appear on the lens. A smoke alarm wails loudly enough that Katzaniel's suddenly panicked voice is drowned out. The camera is knocked off its stand and whirs across the floor. Feet (and paws) rush out a door in the commotion. And the image auto-focusses on the oven and the fire burning brightly inside. The image suddenly changes to the colour bars with the message: "Please stand by. We are experiencing technical difficulties. In the meantime, check out this short message by our sponsors: Priorities (Zadown)" Edit: I didn't realize until too late, although I should have, that Appy's post was referring to one of Zadown's poems as well. Oops... Edited December 12, 2004 by Katzaniel
reverie Posted December 27, 2004 Report Posted December 27, 2004 (edited) Screen opens with a Big Iconic P and H waving on a digitized tan and crismson banner proclaiming it's affliation to the coach potatoes at large The screen cuts to a den warmly lit by a modest fireplace, surrounding by a wall of bookshelve after bookshelve. Just in front of and to the right of the fireplace sat an Ancient Looking narrator garbed in an officail looking uniform adorned with many rippons and trinkets; he sat croached over struggling to lite an equally ancient and official looking uncopperative pipe in his hands. Responding to a what have must have been a frantic cue from one of the Camera men off screen, he abruptly cursed as he put the pipe away, sat up right, turned towards the camera, after a moment spent clearing his throat the narrator begin, "Good Morining and Welcome back the Penn History Channel... I am Commander S. M. Quest (retired) and today we will discussing Eastern Religion's Impact on Western Literature throughout history. "Our first subject focuses specifically on the role of Karmic Justice in the role of Narrative Poetry...So let us begin with Xradion's Poem Cycle: The Lone Dove... Part I Lone Dove Part II As I Walk Through the Valley Part III Metempschosis *** fun, fun rev... Edited December 27, 2004 by reverie
Tanuchan Posted December 27, 2004 Report Posted December 27, 2004 The opening screen shows a familiar image, the sillouette and the logo at once bringing to mind double-oh-seven and everything it relates to. The music goes in a crescendo until a loud 'bang' is heard and the screen shatters - or so it seems. From the left side, a figure in a midnight-blue suit enters, a gun concealed in its hand. As the spotlight focuses on it, Tanny turns with a smile, putting aside the gun. "Mr. Bond, intelligent, charming, and elegant, with Her Majesty's special permission to kill, has used his skills in uncountable movies. Surrounded by beautiful, and sometimes deadly women, with access to the latest technologies and a car full of tricks, he has remained one of the most known spies in the fiction world. But how does a real-life spy live and act? We know he must face dangers, but are the rewards as high and desirable as they seem to be for Mr. Bond? Today's program focuses on those secretive, dangerous people who use all their skills to create a persona who's not their own, who endanger their lives for the sake of their country, their organization, or -- why not? -- their ideals. The Spy. " A sudden flash makes Tanny raise her hands in instinctive defense, and she throws herself at the floor, rolling skillfully as a machine gun shoots against the place she has been. Two knives appear in her hands and are thrown in a quick movement, causing someone out of the screen to cry and run. Standing up nonchalantly, the hostess turns again to the camera. "What are the skills and the training a spy must..." A loud crash, followed by two small explosions make her jump and turn, smoke coming from somewhere to her right. "No, no, no... that effect comes just after the... *coughcoughcough*..." The voice is drowned by angry cursing. Tanny hesitates for a second, and with a somewhat rigid smile she keeps to the role of hostess. "Ehm... the training is certainly hard and focused on... " Another loud banging is heard, and this time part of the scenery bulges, making Tanny yelp in surprise and shimmer into her tanuki form, quickly evading the unstable fake wall that tilts dangerously. From under the nearest table, she puts her head out and flashes a nervous grin to the camera. "So, you see how training and instinct go together when reacting to the unexpected..." She gasps and ducks back under the table as the doomed wall crashes down in a cloud of dust and debris, with Gwaihir stumbling through the newly-created opening. "Um... heh... sorry?" Tanny looks at the elf, stunned, and stammers at last, "Ehm... and here comes one who can tell us something about the feelings of a spy... having had contact with one... " The image in the TV screen quickly changes, showing a completely different place. A veiled person enters, talking to himself. Disgruntled by Myth ~~~~ OOC: I don't know if we could do this more than once, but this poem just triggered the idea. It was a shame not using it, so...
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