Ozymandias Posted January 28, 2002 Report Posted January 28, 2002 The Black Mage with the Comfy Chair looks around. As he notice that he is being thouroughly ignored, his face turns red "ENOUGH!!!!!" he yells. Everybody falls silent and turns to look at the Black Mage. Looking around on the crowd of tipsy, battered, scorched and generally ruffeled mages, Bats, Giant Grapes (what few remains) and Giant Stereotypical Males of French Origin, the Black Mage suddenly realize that he is the center of attention. Now he turns even redder, this time with embarrasment. "Ehhhmmm, could any of you please tell me who owns this chair, I'd like to return it please." The entire congregation of assorted creatures stares at the Black Mage. "Ehhhmmm, You see ... ehhmm ... it sort of just fell down in my garden and I thought someone might miss it." The crowd starts to whisper amongst eachother. "Ay seem tu recal, that le chair allez in le hole on it's own accord." one of the Giant Stereotypical Frenchmen says. "AHA!!!" yells the Black Mage "So no one here has anything to do with this??? I don't believe it !!! You lot are always stirring up trouble for the rest of us." The Black Mage looks around with a dramatic expression in his face, once more red with anger. "But I will make you pay for this ... truly I will." Wiht a swirl of his cloak he dissapears, leaving the chair behind. Suddenly the doorbell sounds. Galatea goes to answer it. She opens the door and a cloaked figure with a large nose forces it's way past her. The rest of the assembled mages strains too get a good look at the figure. "Is it a Gnome?" Deidre asks. "No, it's too tall," answers Ozymandias "Besides, I sense a great evil emenating from it." "I think it might be one of the rare Vampires, that are known to taunt you in jibberish before they suck your blood, truly terrible ... Just think Fran Drescher with fangs." one of the hamsters says, promptly getting torn to pieces by the irate Quadamage. It was a bad day for the hamster to try and impress the mages with it's knowledge of occult second-rate soap stars. Suddenly Galatea lets out a loud *GASP* She points at the figure with a trembeling finger and stutters "It, It, It's Barbar Bar Barbara Streisand!!!!!" "Yes ... It is I!!!!" the figure yells. I have come with a song-o-gram from the Dark Mage. "AAAAARRRRGGGHHH!!!!!!!" the crowd yells in unison and starts to panic. What is Barbara Streisand up to? What about the Giant Stereotypical Frenchmen? How much longer will the terrible hole be contained by the Temporal Stasis Field spell? Are all the hamsters dead now? and what about the bats and grapes? Will peace ever settle in the Banquet Hall so we can all enjoy a quiet glass of wine? Why does Quadamage have such a phobia for dancing hamsters? Will Deidre be able to decide wether she prefers wine over milk? Are Ents able to drink wine? And if no, shouldn't somebody get Woods something to drink? Get the answer to these questions and more in the next episode of ... "Invasion of the Flying Grapes"
Ozymandias Posted January 29, 2002 Report Posted January 29, 2002 "Crap! Not her! Not now! Alright, everyone, if we're going to do this thing, we've GOT TO DO IT NOW! Circle me." Many more than six magi comply, but since most of them are rubberneckers unsure of what to do while others battle the Frenchmen and gaze in horror at Barbara Streisand, it makes little difference. "Start channeling your mana!!!", Ozymandias shrills. "We can settle this Shaolin style", he says, grinning maliciously. Greased gives him a look, as does a finely robed newt who goes sailing by overhead (not of his own volition). "Ehrm, not *those* Shaolin. The other kind." "Ah. Okay.", replies Greased, mollified. "Ladies and gentlemen, salvation in your hour of need is coming! In the form of none other than the one man Matrix himself, the guy who doesn't even need to stop walking past you to kick your @$$..." He trails off in midbluster, chanting quickly. Orange (?) energy ripples like water out of the group of mages, slowly expanding until its width fills the hall. Woods pokes at it curiously. The rest of the Surfing Druids inhale a little more deeply. Greased panics and barely snatches his comb out of its path. Suddenly, it snaps back into the mages with terrific speed and the crashing of a tidal wave. Everyone is thrown to the floor. Another Frechman is sent tumbling into the abyss, taking a mutlimage with him, whose all 100 personas were stuck to the bottom of his shoe. Slowly, everyone regains their feet. Horribly, Barbara Streisand smiles, and produces a microphone. She takes a breath, opens her mouth to sing-and Ozymandias' triumphant shout cuts her off! "Mages, multis, moderators, and whatevers alike, I give you JET LI!" Far too late, Barbara and the remaining Frenchmen see a small Oriental man in jeans and a t-shirt casually step forward. The howling stops, and is replaced by a lone whimper echoing up from the pit. A hampster capers by serenely. Edited by: Ozymandias the Elder at: 1/28/02 11:39:55 pm
Ozymandias Posted January 29, 2002 Report Posted January 29, 2002 Woods is awestruck. He feels as if his whole life has been given meaning by this moment. He forgets the Giant Stereotypical Frenchman, the gaping maw in the fabric of the cosmos, the hamsters and the bats and the grapes and the way the other ents used to call him 'Sapface'. This makes up for all the drama, the struggle, the pain. He can hardly breathe, let alone speak, but manages to gasp out the most important words he has ever spoken: "Ms Streisand. Would it be too much if I were to ask you to sign my trunk?" Edited by: Ozymandias the Elder at: 1/28/02 11:43:58 pm
Ozymandias Posted January 29, 2002 Report Posted January 29, 2002 "You", comments Ozymandias from his all-too familiar spot on the floor,"are not helping."
Ozymandias Posted January 29, 2002 Report Posted January 29, 2002 Jet Li walks quietly over to Woods and Barbara Streisand. "Ahem." They both turn. "Sorry to interrupt, but you can't do that here." He motions to Barbara's microphone. "Please", he says with a an outstretched palm. " Let's not make things any messier." Ms. Streisand looks highly offended. But, surveying the mostly drunken several thousand mages, the oddly quiet giant hole in the floor, the giant Frenchmen, the grape juice on the floor and the drying blood on the walls, she finally relents and hands him her mike. "Thank you", Li says, smiling politely.
Ozymandias Posted January 29, 2002 Report Posted January 29, 2002 quote: Originally posted by Ozymandias: Quote: Originally posted by Dameon: "I'm really tired. I think I'll go home now." (where's that quote from? (i know you server one guys can get it)) Forrest Gump. Now, back to your regularly scheduled blasted remnants of sanity.[/b] You the man
Ozymandias Posted January 29, 2002 Report Posted January 29, 2002 just then out of the corner, where mage here a plead. Can someone pull me out of this grape.
Ozymandias Posted February 23, 2002 Report Posted February 23, 2002 Deirdre quickly pulls him out of the grape and runs back to Ozy's side.
Ozymandias Posted February 23, 2002 Report Posted February 23, 2002 Let's all give a round of applause to Deirdre for starting this wonderful thread. [clap clap clap] Decimator wielder of the Ukulele of Doom
Ozymandias Posted February 23, 2002 Report Posted February 23, 2002 Deirdre gets mad with the cute little dragon as it keeps singing "She'll be Comin' Round the Mountain",grabs some water and pours it over the poor little Dragon. The next minute,a huge explosion rocks the Hall and the cute little dragon changes into a cute little Arkyn who looks more like a 9 yr old kid than a 21 yr old mage. Deirdre looks at him shocked and wonders:"Dear gods, what have I done this time?" ------------------
Ozymandias Posted February 23, 2002 Report Posted February 23, 2002 A polite but firm,"Don't even THINK of asking the Phantasm mage, I do *phantasm* things, *not* transmutation. Thank you!", floats over from the bar. ------------------ I am Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Ozymandias Posted February 23, 2002 Report Posted February 23, 2002 One minute he had been tending to Deirdre's wounds, that he knew. All of the sudden he was being assaulted with an onslaught of giant watermelon seeds. And not those tiny normal ones, mind you. The ones as large as cherry tomatoes. "Ow, stop, ouch, aaahh, sonofa..., quit it, ack!" Decimator tried in vain to cover his face, but it was no use. The seeds kept on coming, rapid fire. Suddenly the cessation of "She'll be Comin' Round the Mountain" (and its replacement with a thundering explosion) caused Decimator to look up. At that moment the giant watermelon fired one last seed. It spun through the air, ricocheting off of chairs, walls, and heads, and finally found itself inside of Decimator's mouth. *Gulp* All of the tales he'd heard in his youth about swallowing watermelon seeds came back in a rush. "This is not good," thought Decimator. His stomach rumbled and gurgled. Decimator Wielder of the Ukulele of Doom
Ozymandias Posted February 23, 2002 Report Posted February 23, 2002 Deirdre looks in total horror at poor Dameon as wierd noises emerge from his stomach.A few minutes later,he throws up the watermelon seeds which have grown 3 times bigger in size. Now because a person's stomach contains acid, the watermelon seeds have become even more lethal as they have now become the Poisonous and Acidic Watermelon seeds. Anyone who comes into contact with them will slowly be "eaten" to death by the poison and the acid the Seeds emit. Deirdre sees the Seeds bouncing after her and she runs for her dear life. Meanwhile,Dameon is shouting for someone to get him out of this mess.
Ozymandias Posted February 23, 2002 Report Posted February 23, 2002 Deirdre the cat is running for her life when she sees Arkyn approaching her with a nasty sneer on his face. She yelps,realizing that he is still under demonic possession and screams for help at the top of her voice.
Ozymandias Posted February 23, 2002 Report Posted February 23, 2002 But wait, where's Ozymandias? He's NOT AT THE BAR!!!! Wait again! What are those soft footfalls that don't seem to have an owner? It's Ozymandias, who reappears right behind the seeds. He is grinning malevolently enough to give baying Hellhounds pause. Black mages quail. Swooping Red Dragons come to a dead halt. An Ascendant mage faints. Heck, even Dierdre's taken a little aback. His banquet hall has been threatened seven times now, in one day. Twice by grapes, twice by Watermelons, once by a chair, once by a pit to Hell, and once by Giant Stereotypical Frenchmen. And now, more produce strikes. He's lost one Banquet Hall already. He's just gotten to like this one. They will not threaten his wenches. They will not threaten his barstool. They will not threaten his poker games. They will not threaten his beer. They will not threaten his ale. They will not threaten his mead. They will not threaten his wine. They will not threaten 'his spot' on the floor. They, most of all, most emphatically, will not, will not ever, threaten his Vodka. He has something better than a plan. He has something better than Jet Li. He has something worse than dancing hamsters. He has something worse than Barbara Streisand. He has something far worse than Giant Stereotypical Frenchmen. He has something behind his back. To be continued.... ------------------ I am Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair! Edited by: Ozymandias the Elder at: 2/23/02 1:16:14 pm
Ozymandias Posted February 23, 2002 Report Posted February 23, 2002 "Deirdre, dear", he calls out, startling the seeds,"if you like, you can lead old Arkyn over here. We'll fix him up right." The seeds, angry at being surprised and (apparently...) threatened, move in on Ozymandias. They're very close. Ozymandias' robe begins to sizzle and bubble in the acid. He holds his ground. And his hands still behind his back. He's still grinning. "Just a little closer, now", he hisses through bared teeth. ------------------ I am Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair! Edited by: Ozymandias the Elder at: 2/23/02 1:18:44 pm
Ozymandias Posted February 23, 2002 Report Posted February 23, 2002 Slowly, inexorably, the seeds creep forward. Pelting across the hall hurriedly, Deirdre closes the gap. Newtlord, Gyrfalcon, Tzimfemme, and several others sense a great disturbance in the force. As one who has stared into the face of death and can never look at life the same way again, so it is with them and the feeling of their lives about to take an abrupt turn. Ozymandias' sandals are smoking now. The seeds are inches away, as is the maddened 9-year old Arkyn. Those closest by hear him to chant "I have a good HMO, I have a good HMO, I have a good HMO,..." under his breath as he begins to pull the thing from behind his back. A battered German mage near the back of the hall is the first to notice the giant tuning fork shaped object in the wall over Ozymanidas' head. "Mein Gott in Himmel", he breathes. But, eyes riveted to his every move, Newtlord, Tzimfemme, and Gyrfalcon are the first to glimpse the duct taped, spherical, whimpering three-eyed object as Ozymandias takes it from behind his back. Time seems to stop. Utter silence falls over the entire hall as Ozymandias defiantly raises the thing above his head. His eyes glimmer with an evil not of this world. In the resounding silence, his intake of breath can be heard from one end of the hall to the other. As well as an odd, "It burns, oh God, it burns..." coming from his parcel. He screams. "NIMBALLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!", and hurls it staright up into the air. The ground quakes and every window and door in the Banquet Hall shatters under the pressure of a tidal wave of dirty mages. And a few angry dwarves. ------------------ I am Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair! Edited by: Ozymandias the Elder at: 2/23/02 1:24:13 pm
Ozymandias Posted February 23, 2002 Report Posted February 23, 2002 A previously not unhandsome mage comes storming into the S1 BH. Scarred by days of Nimball(Nt) playing he rushes towards where he thought the Nimballwould hit the floor. With a magistically timed dive he discoveres that instead of holding the ball he has wrapped his hands around an angry looking dwarf. The ball at this moment was in the hands of the oh so vigilant......
Ozymandias Posted February 23, 2002 Report Posted February 23, 2002 ...goalkeeper of the Dutch national football team, who immediately drops it Fortunately, waiting to pick up the scraps is... Woods Only one team in it Spart
Ozymandias Posted February 23, 2002 Report Posted February 23, 2002 Tesla. The Nimball player extraordinaire comes to the rescue, of all the players of Nimball lost and confused.... Grabbing the Nimball Tesla sprints past the dumbfounded onlookers, waving to his fans, heading straight for the B1 BH where normal play shall resume... ------------------ Tesla the Inept Bard of Terra Edited by: Ozymandias the Elder at: 2/23/02 1:29:01 pm
Ozymandias Posted February 23, 2002 Report Posted February 23, 2002 NOOO! NOT THE NIMBALL!!! I thought ninja had them all? Oh god, they're multipling. *ACK* As herds of nimball players rush towards B1 BH, several mages are trampled to death. ------------------ Vladimir (The Fat Man) AFK "I am obese!!"
Ozymandias Posted February 23, 2002 Report Posted February 23, 2002 Well now THIS is why I'm on Server 1, where else can you find this much fun just from some flying grapes. And where can you find a posting that WILL reach the 100 reply mark first? None other then good Ole' Reliable, Server 1, speaking of ol' reliable....Drink Please! ------------------ Orlan, Sexy Sexy Man Member of the Tribe S1 Lounge Lizard of Terra Soran Member of AoA Lover of Women Ruler of the Liar of Devils Edited by: Ozymandias the Elder at: 2/23/02 1:33:33 pm
Ozymandias Posted February 23, 2002 Report Posted February 23, 2002 Deirdre screams as the grapes suddenly advance onto her and start to bare their fangs at her. She screams as the grapes start multiplying into a few thousand enormous grapes. "Oh no,not again",Ozy groans.........
Ozymandias Posted February 23, 2002 Report Posted February 23, 2002 "This has not gone as well as I'd hoped", he says, quietly edging away. He stops at the lip of The Pit of Hell, and crouches. "Say, any of you fellows mind me dropping in for a bit?" "Ehrrr..." "No, not at all." "Please! Love to have you!" "Could you bring us a Martini?" "Not a problem!", Ozymandias shouts back. He produces a flask from a pocket. "I've got something better here! Home brewed!" "How quaint! By all means, hop on in!" After tipping a seving wench to drop drinks in every half an hour, Ozymandias jumps in. After a couple of hours, the raspiest, graveliest, most ghoulish merry singing begins. Jets of flame leap out and incinerate any unsuspecting grape that flies too close. Three ascendants look longingly at the pit as they hide under a table. "No. Absolutely not.", their guildmaster admonishes. "And quit shoving." ------------------ I am Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!
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