The rules are simple: plot the demise of the next poster. Then whoever posts must think up a way out of it and plot the demise of the next poster. And so on.
Ah-ha! Now that >>2 is in that barrel rushing towards Niagra Falls, I can take over the world without his continual interference!
Luckily, I was talked out of it at the last minute by the good people at 1-800-DONT-CUT!
>>4, as soon as I flip this switch, you'll drop into my pit of deadly vipers, and I shall be free to release my supervirus onto Earth from my moonbase!
Thank goodness, because at the very last minute your wife, whom I have recently seduced and turned from her evil ways using my rougish good looks and English charm, stabs you from behind and lets me down. We then launch the supervirus missile directly at the sun, set your moonbase nuclear power core to 'self-destruct', and escape to the ISS in your own personal space-yatch. KABLOOWIE!
On the way out, we grab your evil assistant, >>5, who we know was the brains behind the operation, and shove him in an airlock on the space yatch. Now, >>5, I'm going to release the outer hatch, and you'll be blown out into the depths of space!
But fortunately, I was sucked in by the Infinite Improbability Drive of another passing space-yacht, and am now living a life of luxury as the President of the Universe's personal boytoy!
Unfortunately my fluffy companion >>6, who is now a bowl of petunias falling through the upper atmosphere of a distant planet, had no such luck.
Fortunately, I'm a very sturdy bowl. And hey, look! Somebody is passing right below me.
Look out below, >>7!
Thanks to my new whale skills, I can swim through air! I think ill call it air... It feels so... airlike..
>>8 should watch out for the gigantic splash I make from landing in the ocean right next to him though.
Luckily a huge green fierce snake bars his way in the nick of time.
However, I will nevertheless carry out my fiendish plan to crack a fart joke so furiously noxious, >>9 will retch so hard his spine will come out through his nose.
But I happen to be a spineless coward so I easily evade the smelly attack.
Due to my rubbery torso I can twist myself into a spiral coil that suddenly releases all its pent-up energy, flinging my body with deadly accuracy and velocity at >>10
Thankfully, kind rescue workers were able to save at 00:24. That was really close!
However, I am not so kind. I gleefully push >>13 off of the ladder, and to his doom.
Luckily a wagon full of matresses was right below the ladder at the time, and I landed comfortably.
I then whip out my gun and shoot >>14, my life-long enemy.
I fall to the ground, but as you come over to investigate, >>13, I leap up and kick you in the face. The lid of a iron stove makes for a rather good piece of body armor, wouldn't you agree?
Now I have to go back in time and kill >15's mother before he was born, just to be sure he dies! (er, never lives.)
Unfortunately your travelling back in time resulted in the creation of a timeline separate from ours where you suddenly pop into existence in the middle of something else. For us back here though, it just looks like you vanished for good.
Thankfully that inept time traveller's doomsday laboratory contained a death ray, which I shall use to shoot >>16 in the back in a dark alley! (Yes, a gun would've done, but an impractical death ray has that much more flair.)
Too bad, the death ray jammed. That tends to happen with fancy-shmancy "space age" technology.
Fortunately, my trusty old knife has been my best friend for decades, and I am sure it will work quite well for stabbing >>17 here.
Sadly, your decades old knife is hindered by your decades old unskilled use in it, and you miss horribly, falling to your death off a cliff. :(
I've got a good old trained white tiger here to take care of >>18
Despite his commendable nature, your tiger is very old. His teeth have become dull, his claws don't fully extend anymore, and his poor old bladder makes him sleep most of the day. Escaping him is like a very slow walk in the park.
I crush >>19, the poster literally below me, with my enormous buttocks.
Ah, nice kitty. Even the best training is secondary to neurochemistry; a few drops of essential oil of catnip should throw 'em off the trail.
I apply them to >>19.
I was on the far edge of the area of effect, and thus escaped with only minor injuries. Seeing as I'm here and everything.
After grinding down MODD's squashed remains and boiling off the water to make a fine powder, I have the perfect agent with which to poison >>22's junk before he has the chance to inject!
Fortunately, I'm in to that kind of thing and have built up an immunity to having stuff injected into my junk.
As an unfortunate side effect of sharing so many needles, I also have every STD known to man. I'm currently stalking >>23 zand jump out to rape him/her.
All the flight training in the world can't save you from a well-aimed pistol shot.
>>26, however, doesn't have the luxury of a pistol. He's sealed in my torture chamber, which is empty save for six inches of water on the floor and two hidden speakers blaring K-Fed's new album 24/7.
Luckily, I happen to be deaf, immortal, and in possession of a Rubik's Cube with which I may entertain myself. Eventually the water damage unseals the door of the chamber and I make my escape.
I fear >>27 has died of old age by that point, though.
Amazingly enough, instead of dying horribly when I was immersed in liquid nitrogen, my body mutated and and I gained the superpowers of enduring and manipulating below-zero temperatures! However, the indescribably painful experience rendered me an insane psychopath. For my first act as a supervillain I tested my powers on >>29.
A horde of vegetarians rush through the store, stealing all the food, including my Big Mac, before I've had a chance to bite into it. I'm pissed off, so I fire a heat-guided missile at >>32, the leader of the vegetarians.
In a touching display of selflessness, one of my loyal cult-like minions lights himself on fire and runs screaming into the parking lot where he dives under >>33's car.
I was inside the mall playing DDR, when my car exploded in a shower of flames and epic destruction.
I use my finely toned wapanese muscles to find >>34 and kick him squarely in the face.
So, like, I was just hanging with my girlfriends and surfing the shops at the mall the other day, and some dude totally tried to kick me in the face! But just then the FBI showed up and arrested him for suspected car-bombing! I was so surprised I dropped my brand-new jeans on the floor, and now they're all filthy. It was a total bummer!
I was, like, telling this >>35 guy all about it just now, but all of a sudden his brain matter came pouring out of his ears. Why'd that happen?
Oh dont mind that, I just took a nice dip in some babypaste, its good for you and awllllright.
So all this babypaste needs to come from somewhere, and im out of babies, good thing I trapped >>36 in a giant blender.
Fortunately for me, I've previously been interviewed by Google for a position, and everyone knows that one of their interview questions is "If you were in a giant blender, about to turn on, what would you do?" I take off my clothes, and wedge them under the blades, causing the motor to overheat as soon as it's switched on.
Now, naked and angry, I decide to get my revenge by mercilessly strangling >>37 with my bare hands!
A drowning death? Luckily I have my rebreather stashed here as well. Eventually, the blender overflows and I escape.
>>39 is at my mercy. Tied to a table, with my 10,000 kW laser tracking up towards his body through his legs. Now, I need no information out of him; I just love to kill people like this. So much more classy than just shooting you, you know. Sliced in half by a laser, that's how you do it!
Too bad >>38 didn't pay the electricity bills on time; the power goes out just before the laser hits, and my sexy girlfriend bursts into the room and rescues me.
Now that we're escaping, >>41 is the only henchman standing in our way. Prepare to be killed by my karate skills, even though I have a gun!
Since the bumbling duo above me wasted their one opportunity to team up effectively in an attempt on my life, I evade the first's attacks through spots that would've been covered by the second.
Working at the LSD factory has its perks, such as doping >>42's recreational eyedropper with strychnine.
I dostract the ants by throwing a jar of honey at my hated enemy, >>44.
I pour the honey on >>45 who is conveniently standing behind me.
Kicking >>44 in the nuts for acting so gay, I quicly run away in a straight line towards my van. In the background, I can hear >>44's anguished screaming, which is suddenly disrupted by the feasting giant ants. Damn right. After changing into fresh clothes from the back of my van, I turn on the ignition and drive off. Unfortunately, as I speed away, looking back to see if any of those ants happen to follow me, I fail to see >>46 walk onto the road from behind that building. Jumping on the breaks in panic, I hear a loud 'whompp!!' Figuring it is too late for him, I just leave him to die on the street, hoping that nobody sees my license plates (which I usually keep in the back of the van for safety reasons anyway.)
Standing outside the mattress factory located beneath the scenic cliff, I am startled but unharmed by the explosion inside the building. However, the surprise causes me to accidentally unload my pistol into >>52, who I was in the process of mugging.
'Tis but a fleshwound, but I run away in pain, screaming, out onto the highway, causing a multi-car pileup as one driver slams on his breaks to avoid me, others swerve off the road and >>53-57 all crash their cars into each other, fatally injuring themselves.
Fortunately my so-called car is a decommissioned tank, which still leaves >>54-57 out of luck.
My car only does speeds in SI units, and therefore my leisurely cruising speed of 80 meters per hour comes to a gentle halt at like a snail stopping to take a leak.
All this carnage is greatly distressing to old >>56, however, who was driving in the car behind me. I make his heart problem worse by leaning out of the driver side window and saying boo!
However, my vehicle has an emergency eject button for times like these, which I push and go flying into the air, and land on >>58, a passing pedestrian, crushing her skull, but leaving me unscathed.
It's a good thing then that I wear several on a string around my neck when I'm out and about. Going to that voodoo school really paid off!
The fragments from the shattered spare skull fly in all directions at ludicrous speeds. A particularly large one goes >>59's way and stabs him in the coccyx, which according to this here sourcebook is a fa... lethal injury.
Luckilly, I'm Gump, so I just keep on runnin'.
However, I did have to drop the pre-WWI box of chocolates for >>61 to devour.
As soon as I lift the first one to my mouth, >>59, my ex-girlfriend, comes running in and steals them from me because she's such a bitch. She shoves a bunch in her mouth and laughs at me insultingly. >>62, who is >>59's current boyfriend, wants to get some of it for himself and wrenches the box from her hands and ingests the rest as quickly as he can.
Hi, my name is George Zimmer, the... whoa whoa, down boy! My cock suddenly grows even more humongous, crushing >>65 as it launches forth from my pants.
But I am riding a motorbike, so I slam on the pedal and speed wildly down the road, the cock crashing down wildly behind me and sending bits of concrete debris everywhere. "TETSUOOOOOOO!" I yell, hitting >>66 with my motorbike and mortally wounding him.
Startled by >>66's sudden act of self-immolation in the lane just before me, I swerve, crash through the rail of the elevated highway, and fall two stories. Thanks to cutting-edge airbag technology and plush upholstery, I survive the fall with only moderate injuries. However, my vehicle landed squarely upon the bawling, infantile form of >>68, whose stroller was left briefly unattended by his mother.
Luckilly, I'm a Superbaby (That's why my mom left me ;_;) and I use my magnetic flux device to change the vehicle's falling designation straight on >>69's head.
Making all this ruckus beforehand, I was scared to death (well, nearly) by the goddamn hybrid japanese shitty car with cutting edge airbag technology and plush upholstery that I saw crashing throught the rails of the elevated highway, I was well prepared to dodge it. At first it looked as if the car would crash into the stroller of some baby, which was probably unattended for being so horribly disfigured. Then, seeing the brat doing some odd movements, I was hugely surprised to see the rampaging vehicle change its natural flight path to my general direction. Quickly ducking, the oversized projectile crashed into my cherished wife who was less fortunate.
Alas! my dear wife >>70! the last I saw of you was your frantic fight with the grille in which you had become lodged. Desperate of my unmanly behaviour (I should have protected you) I sank to my knees fighting the shock. The last I remember of this wretched day is that a burning man, I think it was >>66, fall over the railing of the elevated highway, into >>68's cradler and there embracing the wretched brat into a fiery demise.
The grille is made out of some cheap plastic/soft metal combo, so rather than hurting like hell, it simply wrapped around my head! I yell with all of my lungs: "THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING! THIS IS MADNESS!!"
Suddenly, a man in a cape appears out of nowhere and kicks me flying towards >>71. Luckily, I was wearing my secret water-filled bra!
As I make a passionate and unusually fast acquaintance with >>70's luscious buste (I'm rather shy normally), which lightens the impact considerably, we are both catapulted into my private pool. My considerate friend leaves the two of us be, as it turns out that >>70's bondage fantasies had never been satisfied by her cowardly husband. Thrilled by her captivation in the grille, she quickly persuades me with her gorgeous body to indulge in her off-ish desires. I must say, the poorly constructed car-attribute around her neck really turned me on and we did it like animals behind those bushes - oh sweet memories - still, I did not forget the rubber contraception. Always carry one with me just for these cases. It happens more often than you'd think.
Anyway, after the deed was done, I tied the condom shut and threw it in the bin shouting "Adios baby yeah!!!" Austin Powers style. Trapped by a thin rubber confine, >>73 looked up and saw the lid of the bin shut out the light. I of course couldn't care less - it happens all the time, and went back to my newfound lady.
As it turns out, >>70 is an extreme pro-lifer and, well, lets just say she made ends meet, and I was born eventually. You might wonder how I know all this, of course, my mom (>>70) told me all about it. And my dad >>72? As it turns out, my mother could not forgive him for throwing away the living semen, so she talked him into parachute jumping, and sabotaged his chute.... well I guess that was just it for >>74. I have such a crazy mom, right! hahaha!
As it turns out, I was rescued from the discarded condom by one of >>73's mom's zealous friends, who impregnated herself with what would become one half of my genetic makeup.
My terrible upbringing with a single utterly bonkers mother has, however, left me with an inexplicable rage towards those who've slain literally billions of my brothers and sisters in potentia. To that end, I've been poisoning the world's hand lotion supply with quicksilver, so that >>75 (who's famous for never having had "contact" with anyone but himself) would meet a sick, sad end in an insane asylum.
YeaH! its me >>75, uhhh... I was like, huu.. in this big house where they kept me and, like, but then the people that always made me go and play with the, uhh.. things, for the irk social therapy! stuff... uh.. they went away, so new people came. bUT then the new doctor is very nice, I think his name was ahm. uhm, yeah, wait for it, uhhhh... mr. naive treehugger. so he said I could be rehabiliterated sooo.... and then I went home. but my mom said, like.. its bad, and no she dosn't want me around. I get out of uhh, the big..... the bigg.. the big house, and now I wanna go back, mamma doesn't like me anymore. uhhh....
I'm gonna kill momma >>76 and go back to.. uh... the big house!
I have the knife, uhuhuhu, pretending I'm sleeping and she'll be so surprised hahhahaah, snort uhahaha. the big house was so nice and i liked the candy they gave me. Going back soon!
>>75's plan was totally transparent, given his idea of pretending to sleep was to stand there with the knife giggling like a mental patient. I mercy killed the poor, broken child with the last bullet from my trusty .357.
Looking at my watch, I realized I had but seconds to get to the Diabolical Doomsday Device I'd imprisoned >>77 in and pull the giant switch!
Wait a minute, you wench! that's my Diabolical Doomsday Device (TM)! and I'll not let you use it. Yes, the name is diabolo, and to make my reputation (providing platforms for sinful revenge since day 5 of the earths' existence) come true - I'll pit >>76=>>78 against her own son, who she brutally murdered with a dilapidated .357 (he very recently joined me, a very fine screwed up mind indeed).
Making the fight more balanced, I've put >>75 in control of a sherman tank aiming directly for >>78's sorry head.
STRUCTURED REPLY THREAD
$HEADSHOT!$
while >>79 thinks he got me, I happen to now have a dislocated molar, and a hole in each cheek. Mission not accomplished. Unfortunately, while I thrash about in the book depository, I accidentally overturn quite a bunch of bookcases. I'm afraid that >>81, who was hoping to see the seventh Harry Potter book out already, got trapped under a castiron bookshelf, along with a dozen copies of Harry Potter and the order of the Phoenix. RIP, my boy, I couldn't help it sob
However, I have a change of heart and decide to support a small business mom-and-pop bookstore, instead of that of a large heartless organization, like the government book depository.
A few hours later, I string up >>82 in a gimp suit and painfully try to beat 'im to death with a baseball bat.
I point out to >>81 that gimp suits and baseball bats are decidedly not in theme with our Harry Potter roleplay, and we decide to play an erotic game of Quiddich instead. Tragically, the next day our third man >>83 is the victim of a tragic accident involving a magic wand and a mislabeled jar of what probably wasn't lube after all. He expires of peritonitis two weeks later.
>He expires of peritonitis two weeks later.
well, that was the rumour in hogwarts anyway. Still, I did get severely injured and was unable to handle my manhood without pain for a couple of months. Fortunately, I was able to get my revenge on >>82=>>84 by introducing him to the ancient torture method of "staking." For your information, that involves sitting the victim on a pole, in our case a broomstick (geez, we have a lot of broomsticks at hogwarts...) and slowly letting his weight bear him down to earth. If the stick doesn' puncture any vital organs during this (slow) process of coming down to earth, the victim can survive quite a few days. Empirical evidence supports the idea that taking a crap becomes a very difficult task, then again the victim probably is less interested in hygiene by that time.
Oh yeah, its a disgusting method, I quite agree. We'll need to return the broom and who do you think has got to clean it up? that's right, >>85! Meanwhile, its been two days and >>84 is still alive and kicking (weakly)
The broom I am being impaled on happens to be a Harry Potter vibrating broom, and turns on spontaneously, sending me into indescribable agony but also tipping itself over. I crawl to the telephone and attempt to call 911, but accidentally hit the self-destruct button instead. The house explodes, killing me, >>81, >>83, and >>85 who at the time was just a random passerby asking to use the restroom.
Clearly, >>84 is delirious, since if he were really dead, I'd be interested to hear just how he could've written on this forum. In a fit of inexplicable desperation, I cover a grenade with instant glue, pull the pin and lob it over towards >>86. I must say, excellent baseball reflexes, and he catches it in both hands. While I scramble for cover, I can hear the amusing sounds of >>86 first realizing what danger he has cought, then how he tries to get rid of it. hahaha!
"Cought" is not an English word, so I am safe! Furthermore, I use my grammar Nazi powers to send >>87 to the gas chambers.
Fourtunately grammar Nazis do not fill their gas chambers with cyanide. Instead they fill it with that chalky dusty odor that fills classrooms and libraries. And is fairly harmless, but does send people with test anxiety into a panic. Like >>88 who then suffers a heart attack and dies.
Its true, I really panic from test anxiety and could easily get a heart attack. >>87 doesn't understand he was using me as an example (typical case of not knowing what it is you're saying.) Unfortunately, >>89 was at those gas chambers, and she's suffering from the same test-anxiety syndrome that would've sent me over the top there. I can hear her gasping already.
I simply stared stupidly at >>90, because I had a stuffy nose and I couldn't smell ANYTHING! I simply had some trouble breathing in this stuffy hot environment. But it's OK, I had cold beer in my skirt pocket.
Unfortunately, >>90 is a very paranoid person. And a neat freak. And doesn't like being touched.
Whereas >>89=>>91 says skirt, I say tent, which is why she could actually put a beer there without anyone noticing. Its true, I am a neat freak. That's very annoying (especially for others, I know :) but hasn't killed me so far.
I see >>91 open her can.
The beer gushes out and squirts all around.
Beer everywhere...
on her clothes, the pig is giggling madly - I hate her
the beer even flies on my cloth~
ERK
MY CLOTHES!!!!!!
I remember totally freaking out towards the horrible >>91. I remember running around with a big hatchet and aiming for her skull. After that, I don't know. When I woke up, unharmed, people stared at me and said how horrible it was. Apparently there was blood all over the room. Still, it felt pretty good.
It was amazing! I picked up the pig and suddenly I saw an hatchet coming fast towards my head! I held the pig high up my head as the hatchet dropped down to my skull. Blood flied EVERYWHERE! I picked up the pieces of pork and I ran out from the door. Apparently somebody forgot to lock the doors! But then I saw the dreaded >>92! That BASTARD! I threw the pork BACK into the chalk chamber and set up a sign which reads "FREE PORK! DO COME IN! NOT A TRAP." I also set up a tripwire on the door connected to an atomic bomb.
I then ran over the corner and waited that bastard >>92 to get in!
Due to my fine Jewish heritage I am not even vaguely compelled to enter and receive the free pork.
However, Jewish or otherwise, I have no problem locking >>93 in a gas chamber for no reason.
Fortunately I happened to still be alive when Schrödingers cat was sent to check up on me and so I escaped the trap.
Meanwhile the head of >>94 explodes trying to bend its mind around the mysteries of quantum physics.
Aware of the mysteries of quantum physics, >>93 understands that by having made an observation about the state of my head (exploding), that state will have been changed due to the act of observing. Or in laymans terms: I did not die, and certainly not from an exploding head, although quantum physics is still very mysterious to me. On another note, I would like to comment that, due to the limited lifespan of feline creatures in general, Schrödingers cat has long died of old age since it starred in that bloody 1927 Kopenhagen convention.
Saving my life after a battle with a theoretical construct, and killing a metaphysical example in the process leaves me free to take the longbow I keep in my room, to practice my marksmanship on >>95, who I have conveniently tied to a pole to be an immobile target. With good sight, 10 meters from the target and a host of quality arrows, I'm currently aiming for his nose, and I already hit both of his ears, his left testicle (i like the scream) and the arrow in his right ear.
Although >>94 seems to have a grasp pf quantum physics, his grasp of knot tying is rather tenuous. Right before the arrow impacts with my nose, I slip from the bonds (already weakened by the testicle shot) and limp away despite >>94's whiny protests.
Alone at last, I send a coded signal to good ole >>17 (who hasn't been very busy since his cameo) to slit the throat of >>95, who is tied to a chair in his own basement.
As the flames burn off most of my extremities and engulf my torso, I scream in agony. My cries are heard throughout the lands, and sympathetic to my pain, a labor of moles digs a tunnel from the basement to a nearby river to keep to douse the flames and wash me out of the basement.
As a result of the empty river, >>98, residing in a village downstream, is unable to find any fluid to clear his digestive system of its extreme constipation.
Of course, being the resourceful guy I am, I've got ready-to-drink prune juice in my fridge for cases just like this. You never know, you know.
However, the pressure caused by an immense potential for a poop joke which failed to escape through the keyboard finally exceeds the amount that the trepanning cork's fittings in my skull can tolerate. With a great big POP, the titanium cork shoots off like a waxed bullet, severing the chain holding a heavy crystal-decorated chandelier in place directly above >>99's head.
Just as the chandelier is about to crush me, the power of 100GET flows through my body, and I mentally toss the 300 pound chandelier directly at >>101
( ß ƒŽß) 100GET!