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!
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
( ﾟ ヮﾟ) 100GET!
I laugh as the chandelier falls on that moron >>99's head. Haha. Moron.
Now that I am no longer distracted, I resume robbing Mittens of her lifeblood, mittens, by burning them in a large underground facility specifically designed for the burning of mittens.
As a proud member of the elitist superstructure, I wholly endorse >>101's actions. I find >>103 distasteful, however. That is why he has just recovered consciousness from a blow to the head to find himself trapped in a dark underground chamber, wearing a mitten suit. And it's getting warmer in there...
I reach desperately into my purse and unwrap a packet of green tea Pocky, resisting the urge to eat it myself, and crush it up before throwing it into a nearby bottomless pit. Unable to resist, the sea of mittens blindly jump after the mist of crumbs.
The torrent of wool happens to wash over >>105, dragging her down into the cave with them.
I silently watch as my wife of 3 days is swiftly whisked down the bottomless pit. I didn't know getting that insurance money would be this easy!
However, I need a cover. As I don't know who to take revenge on, I blindly attack >>106.
Today I am wearing mirrors.
Lazerbeam is deflected onto >>109
I die.
and I die, stung to death.
As >>111 wakes up, he finds he is in a room fillend with a beautiful transcendent light. The room is large and >>111 seems to be inside some sort of alcove. At any rate, the wise old men that sit around the table in the middle of the room do not react to her. >>111 carefully looks from the edge of the alcove to grasp the scenery. An imam, a catholic priest, a humanist, a buddhist monk, a taoist scholar, a rabbi... these are the people seated. Their conversation, if there had been one, has ceased for a while.
"umm, excuse me, but would you mind telling me where this place is?" the timid question, although softly spoken, seems to boom through the chamber. The congregation looks around and now finally notices >>111.
"Certainly, my child," says the man.
"You see, us six have arrived one after another in this place, and since then we have debated all there is to know about the world. Whereas we haven't arrived at any conclusions we can mutually agree to, we did gain the understanding that there is only one relevant question that we need to know."
"Indeed," chips in the catholic priest, "To all of us, the question whether there is life after death has become of paramount importance to us." This question is followed by a silence. >>111 wonders what on earth is going on but maintains a respectful silence, because it seems not his time to speak yet.
"We have debated this for a long time," the humanist finally resumes. "A little before you arrived, we arrived at a severe impasse in our discussion. My name is >>112, by the way. And, excuse for our tardiness, but welcome!"
"Ah yes," the taoist monk says ashamed. "Wellcome! and my name is >>113."
At this point in time, the sages all stand up to shake >>111's hand as a welcome. It seems they have not had a visitor for a long time. However, as excited they are from >>111s surprising arrival.
"Yes, girl, you must understand," starts the rabbi, "Every now and then, visitors come here. However, everytime the number of people in this room becomes 7, this room is targeted by a tactical nuke from Iran. At this point the imam looks down at the floor, ashamed.
"You had better not be grinning, you bastard!" shouts the rabbi. Apparently their history of talking has not helped them settle religious, cultural and or historical differences. The rabbi and the imam begin a foulmouthed fight of words, then degrade into a bitchfight. Their white long beards fly this then that way, continuously in a flurry. Smiling, the priest contributes to the dispute with some well aimed kicks.
>>111 first looks amazed. Then she says: "Umm, but i just died. so why am i here?"
The rabbi and imam cease their fight and stare at her.
"Certainly you are not dead, why else would you be here? you are quite alive!" they shout in near unison. The taoist takes >>111s hand and leads her to the window.
"You know, the humanist, he always hides in the basement whenever the nuke comes. He is afraid of death. We on the other hand, are not, because we believe in our respective afterlives. That humanist has always argued against life after death, so he tries not to get cought up in it. Oh, that >>112, he will find the way one day or another."
"Now look," he says, and the other men gather at the window as well. >>111 has nowhere to go.
"Do you see that projectile rushing to us from far?" the buddhist proclaims. "That is the tactical nuke. If you look close you can see the ugly picture of Ahmedinejad's ugly mug on its nose."
And indeed. As the deadly device shoots ever closer, >>111 wonders how she could possibly die twice, and if she should not have joined the wise >>112 in the safe basement. Meanwhile, the taoist monk >>113 awaits the atomic deathbringer with open arms.
Rest in peace, all you fools. In death, after life, at any rate >>111 and >>113 are to die, and >>112 survives!
Amen.
I swing a magical leek and utter the ancient incantation "Yap tsup tsap parivic carilang lantik tarivil lanticht standoel la dipidapidol laroepa ti rupi rankoeri kankoek perkiri kang koe". Thus I confuse the electronics on the nuke, rendering it harmless for all.
/＾7_
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| / ／ ／" ｀ヽ ヽ ＼
三 | ／/, '/ ヽﾊ ､ ヽ
／ 三 .L ｣ ミ{_{｀ヽ ノ ﾘ| ｌ │ i|
Ｘ ／ | | .ﾚ!小ｌ● ● 从|、i|
/ | | ヽ|l⊃ ､,､, ⊂⊃ |ﾉ│
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. ― ヽ.＿人::::| l＞,､ __, イァ/ /│
. ― ミ ﾉ ﾉ:::::/| ／ヾ:::|三/::{ﾍ､__∧ |
ミ （_／｀ヽ< | | ／ヾ∨:::/ヾ:::彡' |
Apart from >>114 who still has to deal with the heavy bomb landing on his head, nyoro~n
Luckily, I'm wearing the new Repel-o-rama Helmet 9000+, which deflects the bomb off of my head, but unfortunately it falls into the sewer, and the radiation spreads to the water supply, killing >>115, >>116, >>117, >>118, >>119, >>120, >>121, >>122, >>123, >>124, >>125, >>126, >>127, >>128, >>129, >>130, >>131, >>132, >>133 as they drink the poisoned water.
Thankfully, I have a magic water filter. I survive without even knowing about the incidents that took place above.
Must suck to be >>116-133, though.
For some reason people here believe that Iran is actually capable of producing nukes. They are not, and as such the device in the sewers is utterly harmless, saving me and all the people in my neighbourhoud up to >>133. Unfortunately, >>117 suffers from a reverse placebo effect as she totally believes what CNN tells her, and she dies from imagined radiation diseases.
>>118 checked my heartbeat and confirmed to me that I have radiocarcinemia just like the news said. It made me really scared and I coughed blood for days but then the doctor gave me a cootie shot and told me I was cured and that made me stop coughing blood.
But then the doctor turned to >>118 to check his heartbeat and found out that there was a bomb attached to his heart that is scheduled to explode in 30 seconds right before he ran out of the room. I followed him because he stole my lollipops and virginity and I wanted them back.
As >>117 rushes after the doctor to get his virginity back (good luck with that) I take a minute to get comfortable and ponder this unexpected situation. Finally I just shrug my shoulders and decide to find another docter. I really don't want to be treated by a quack who doesn't understand the difference between my pacemaker and a bomb. Intriguingly enough, the battery of the safety-device gives out just at the moment that the doctor assumed my heart would be blown to pieces. I replace it calmly with one of the spares I always carry on me for precisely this reason. At this point in time I begin to discern various small errors in >>117's story, which are mainly due to sloppiness. Yeah, >>117 should check better what he writes.
Unfortunately, it is too late for >>119 who tries with all his might to understand the internal logic in >>117's post, which is as I mentioned, slightly flawed. The massive mental effort causes an allconsuming braintumor in >>119's head, which will become fatal anytime now.
Fortunately, the tumor was benign, and easily removed, and after some brain surgery, I'm back to good health. However, because of this surgery I had to have my head shaved, and because I don't want to go around bald, I buy a fur hat, which required the killing of >>120, a helpless mink.
Sadly, the furtrapper lost his glasses and killed my sexy minx instead. This angers me so mightily that I perform a pelvic thrust of men's warehouse proportions, ripping >>121 asunder from anus to oral cavity. I guarantee it!
So here I am, walking through the forest with my girlfriend >>122, and all of a sudden this crazy little animal jumps on my back and tries to hump me! It was madness, the stupid little beast was crawling just there where I couldn't reach it with my hands and this thing going nuts on my back hurt like hell! It must have been a hilarious sight because my love just lost it, collapsing to the ground laughing so much... She also lost her breath completely but I couldn't notice because I was still thrashing about trying to get the mink of my back. Such a careless thing, why didn't I look back?
When I finally got rid of it (I decided to just fall on my back, that was enough but too bad for the mink) I found the lifeless body of my love, I found it on the forest path. I Shook her, softly at first, then more violently, I had to wake her, I just had to. Called her name in despair, my throat constricting with an unacceptable premonition. Insulting her so fantastically to get at least a reaction, blind with tears. Confessing my heartfelt love to her, yet no response, how could she have responded anyway? Dizzy, that dragging, nauseous disorientation, I can't bear to think back. So terrible, catastrophical, no one to help. No one, I lost.
I just ran. I ran away.
THIS IS ALL THE SAME PERSON!
Sadly the attemot to induce my suicide failed. But alas this might not last, as with poster >>123 harakiri is committed.
>>123 does not specify whom he pushed to commit harakiri, but it certainly wasn't me.
I should congratulate >>122 for being the most deadly commenter here: By means of attacking the very essence of this thread, he put at risk the continuing force here. Since every commenter acknowledges both the previous poster, and gives footing to the next, >>122's charge to the footing of all subsequent posters was a near fatal move. Not totally fatal though, thanks to me.
By the way, I am a Canadian Inuit with a club, it is hunting season, and >>125 is a baby seal that's just asking for it.
Fortunately >>124 realizes his error and reminds himself that, as we all well know, the warranty will be void if the seal if broken, and decides to leave me alone.
As I grow up I come across a lost russian atomic submarine and with some aid from the radioactive leak I mutate into the horrible SLOBGOBBLER. Swimming faster than the golf stream I swiftly descend upon the slob >>126 as he comes down to the beach for volleyball practice.
The hobo immediately blows the money on liquor, after which he expires of an alcohol overdose, so I am safe. However, while investigating the dead body for his own foul purposes, >>128 slips and falls on the shards of the broken vodka bottles, opening an artery and bleeding to death.
>>129 spots me, while driving to a cult meeting, and provides me with some bandages from the first aid kit, kept in the trunk, to stop the bleeding. I tell >>129 that I don't need any help getting to a hospital. After all, who am I to stop >>129 from attending the cult's final meeting (mass suicide)?
>>130 is a member of a cult-intervention group, which ties me to a chair beats me senseless until I agree to quit the suicide cult. However, at the exact moment I drive home to my comfy apartment, angry cult members burst in with bombs strapped to their chests, yell something like, "Durka!!" and explode, while beating >>130 senseless..
the cultmembers who were in the process of beating me senseless got carried away with me and forgot to detonate. The other cult members first tried to make contact, in order to have everyone detonate synchronically, but as high as they were on their excitement to finally achieve a goal (the first in ages, probably) they soon lost interest and had their own little countdown. Having the ignorant culties stand around me (beating me) was suddenly extremely useful as their bodies shielded me from the harmfull explosions, although I'm sorry to say that they did not come out of that comfy apartment alive.
>>131s penis is microscopical. As a hikkikomori he never goes outside his basement and he is master of bottling. His grades in primary school were never outstanding and his academic performance has been average ever since. As he secluded himself ever more from society, his influence over it has diminished from barely nothing to totally zilch. >>131 Does not want to share his opinion and that's why he adds comments to hundreds of stupid forums all day, as long as they have topics about mimiru-chan in it, so he can confess his love for akane-sama there. (Akane-sama is the eternal enemy of mimiru-chan, just so you know.) Noone cares about >>131 and he can't even masturbate.
While I continue to marginalize >>131's existence to nothing, I give him the opportunity for a last, insignificant squeek. Then, as his significance approximates zero, we will declare him dead.
As it turns out, the cause of my "Hikikomori-ism" was in fact depression, and my parents decided it would be appropriate to take me to a psychiatrist, who prescribed me some medication, and within weeks I became much less withdrawn, and before I knew it, I had started going to university.
Unfortunately for my online friend, >>132, my disappearance from the internet stopped providing him with the only support that kept him going, as we had so much in common. Eventually, he made the news as he committed suicide by jumping off the platform right in front of a passenger train.
However, I really didnt die, I just became a spirit detective, and I am now currently on the path of the demon >>133 , who will surely persih by my blade.
I don't know exactly how to explain this, but as I was captured by the minions, >One of them stuck a pitchfork so far up my rear end that the pointed end came out of their mouth, ending their pitiful life.
And so they all died. An evil twist of misguided literary fervor, perhaps, although that pitchfork hurt like hell.
For some reason, >>133 thought I was the sidekick, whereas I am actually far stronger than my unfortunate partner >>132. Right now, I am out for revenge, >>133=>>135 wil surely die from my Deathonizer 3000XLM UltraPlus. (I can easily put it away under my bed when I'm not using it!)
Luckliy for me , >>134's Deathonizer 3000XLM UltraPlus was both made in china and used nonsuperior parts, and got REALLY grody by all the tissue and porn they kept under their bed as well, so when they fire it, it doesnt work one bit.
However, Nothing beats a good Home made microwave atomic bomb, which is set to go off at >>>136's house as soon as they use their microwave.
136: "Hey, honey, I'm coming home!"
LOVE WIFE: "136 should I put the steak in the microwave like usual?"
136: "Yup, set it for 30 minutes because that's how far away I am!"
LOVE WIFE: "ok" BOOOOOM
OH NO WHO IS BEHIND THIS PLOT! It must be >>137 trying to destroy my life! I'll slit his throat in his sleep.
(yes this post sucks ass. I usually write a lot better than this but i'm out of it today)
Luckily, I dont sleep lightly, and seeing that >>136 is "out of it", I easily escape his attempt.
Thank goodness I lived another day, I will soon get my revenge on >>138, who Killed my father ten years ago in a sword match before my very eyes.
I have honed my skill for those years, and now, it is time for me to get my revenge.
With a sword? Oh fuck no, theres far too much of a change of failure with that, I've been practicing shooting with a sniper rife, I hit him right in the head with a bullet from the rooftop of the building across from the chinese food restaurant which is a front for his cartel.
DAMNIT!!! now I need a new double! You little scum, I killed youw fathel 10 yeaws ago and now you want wevenge? come and get it, punk!
I owdel my loyal minions to suwwound the looftop on which >>137 is luwking, and let them have fun emptying theiw guns again and again to intimidate him. Unfoltunately, the sweet little clalk >>139 wolking thewe getted lipped to shweds. Oh well, that's life, isn't it?
We gotted him good aftewwalds, that bastald SOB >>137. He's "swimming with the concrete" light now...
...
...
heh. hehehe.