The posts I enjoyed most on this forum were typed by me once upon a time in the 'Life of a Peasent' thread started by Ranck3. They were flagrant troll posts and ultimately managed to kill the game-thread they were posted in. Whenever I read them I giggle uncontrollably (in an egotistical way) I have reproduced them here in full, in only hope that they are as entertaining to read as they were to write:
Dancing Mustard wrote:I make up some stuff that I have.
I go and pursue some fictional practical endeavour with this made up stuff.
I fabricate a profit from this fictional endeavour.
I offer to sell you these phantasmal profits in exchange for similar non-existant profits which you alleged to obtain several posts back.
Using these newly obtained imaginary items I pretend to create some stuff which I then proceed to post in a big list.
Gp: 39672957569.6
House: Triangular-with en-suite vomitorium
Stuff: 1 tin of baked beans, 1 torn stocking, 1 strap on dildo, 1 lump of rotting offal, 7 werewolf meat, 5 human skin, 1 Thai-prostitute-with gag+saddle, 40 bees, 1 Swedish Penis Enlarger, 4 pairs of novelty specatcles, 1 tin of mints, 1 foetus in a jar that occassionaly warns me of future catastrophies but refuses to speak in anything other than cryptic riddles, 38 snickers bars, 1 bondage encyclopedia, unlimited 40mm video cameras and adult daipers.
P point: 85.3 squared
jobs: Boning your mum, stealing children's toys, dribbling on passing strangers, licking windows, picking bars of condensed milk from particularly tall trees
Irradiated Mutant level = 38.2 divided by the number you first thought of.
I am wearing: boxers, gimp mask, a suit made from your father's skin, bangles, a 10 gallon hat.
Dancing Mustard wrote:Oh come on, if you're going to play then at least play fairly. You're not allowed to post until you are released from jail. You're there for molesting children and evading taxes; remember?
I take my Thai-prostitute and ride her on the common.
My pickled foetus warns me of an impending catastrophe, hinting darkly at an 'avian holocaust'.
I will sell my strap-on-dildo for 56gp
I give 999999999999999999999 P-points to Fircoal.
Dancing Mustard wrote:I sell you my Strap-on-dildo for 39584365 gp
I hunt for your relatives in the woods. I slaughter your grandmother. I get 1 Ranck3's Grandmother's skin.
I use the 1 Ranck3's Grandmother's skin to make 1 Ranck3's Grandmother's Skin Suit.
I put the Ranck3's Grandmother's Skin Suit on.
I insert the Snickers Bar into the Thai-Prostitute; nothing happens. Yet.
I buy a small glass beaker.
My Thai-Prostitute vomits in my Triangular House's en-suite vomitorium.
I put the vomit in the beaker and add it to my list of possessions.
I cross breed my tin of mints with my lump of rotting offal; it will take 2 posts to mature.
I cover your cottage in adult diapers then dance naked around it while interfering with myself, filming the whole affair on a 40mm video camera.
I'm spent.
I find a banana hammock in the woods.
I have:
Gp: 69682997569.6
House: Triangular-with en-suite vomitorium
Stuff: 1 tin of baked beans, 1 torn stocking, 1 lump of rotting offal + 1 tin of mints, 7 werewolf meat, 5 human skin, 1 Thai-prostitute-with gag+saddle, 40 bees, 1 Swedish Penis Enlarger, 4 pairs of novelty specatcles, 1 foetus in a jar that occassionaly warns me of future catastrophies but refuses to speak in anything other than cryptic riddles, 38 snickers bars, 1 bondage encyclopedia, unlimited 40mm video cameras and adult daipers, one suit made from your father's skin, one glass beaker of Thai-Prostitute's vomit, 1 banana hammock.
P point: 85.3 squared
jobs: Boning your mum, stealing children's toys, dribbling on passing strangers, licking windows, picking bars of condensed milk from particularly tall trees.
Irradiated Mutant level = 38.2 divided by the number you first thought of.
I am wearing: boxers, gimp mask, a suit made from your Grandmother's skin, bangles, a 10 gallon hat.
Dancing Mustard wrote:ranck3 wrote:Go die dancing mustard.
Ok you little punk, I'm charging you with abusing a police officer in the line of duty, your sentence just rose by three days
Ranck3 is still incarcerated.
He may not post or interact with other players until he is formally released. His bail is set at 'one squillion billion gp' which any player may forefeit in order to secure his early release
Now, my turn:My Tin of Mints and Rotting Offal Hybrid is complete, I now own 1 "'Moffal' Monster", it is vaguely humanoid and smells like compost.
I cross breed my Moffal Monster with my Thai-Prostitute. She will take an arbitrary number of posts (which I will decide on when the mood takes me) before she enters labour.
I steal a toy train from a child in the park.
I pawn the toy train for 51 gp
I stand naked on the common where I release my 40 bees, they swirl around me stinging my exposed flesh. I relish the pain. Every time I feel a sting I scream the name of a deceased US President and interfere with myself.
I'm spent
I drink half of the Thai-Prostitute's vomit and eat 1 were-wolf meat. I now have a half-full (or half-empty, whatever) beaker of Thai-Prostitute vomit.
I shake the foetus' jar, but it is silent.
I have:Gp: 69682997569.6
House: Triangular-with en-suite vomitorium
Stuff: 1 tin of baked beans, 1 torn stocking, 1 lump of rotting offal + 1 tin of mints, 6 werewolf meat, 5 human skin, 1 Thai-prostitute-with gag+saddle, 40 bees, 1 Swedish Penis Enlarger, 4 pairs of novelty specatcles, 1 foetus in a jar that occassionaly warns me of future catastrophies but refuses to speak in anything other than cryptic riddles, 38 snickers bars, 1 bondage encyclopedia, unlimited 40mm video cameras and adult daipers, one suit made from your father's skin, half a glass beaker of Thai-Prostitute's vomit, 1 banana hammock.
P point: 85.3 squared
jobs: Boning your mum, stealing children's toys, dribbling on passing strangers, licking windows, picking bars of condensed milk from particularly tall trees.
Irradiated Mutant level = 38.2 divided by the number you first thought of.
I am wearing: boxers, gimp mask, a suit made from your Grandmother's skin, bangles, a 10 gallon hat.
I personally don't know why you're getting so upset Ranck3, I'm your most active player at the moment...
Dancing Mustard wrote:My actions for the day:
My Thai-prostitute goes into labour, she spawns an ugly twitching newborn; half-human, half-moffal. It stinks of rotting spam and screams blue murder as it lays slick with blood on my cottage floor.
I feed 1 thai-prostitute's placenta to the moffal-human hybrid baby.
It devours 1 thai-prostitute's placenta.
I bathe 1 moffal-human hybrid baby in the half-beaker of thai-prostitute vomit I have left. I now have 1 half-clean moffal-human baby.
I drink 1 half-beaker of filthy thai-prostitute vomit
I lose 3 constitution points
My shrivelled foetus in a jar warns me of impending murder
At nightfall I sneak to Ranck3's cottage, I remove my clothing and smear my naked body with melted snickers bars.
I rub myself against Ranck3's windows becoming exited, knowing that he is inside and unaware of my actions. It's like I'm making love to the entire hovel. The forbidden nature of the act is exhileration itself. I mutter the names of renowned authors to a rhythmn only I can hear.
I'm spent.
My moffal monster hunts in the woods. It catches 3 infants.
I plant one of the infants in my garden.
My Thai-prostitute forages for truffles on the common. She finds 1 rusty nail.
I beat my Thai-prostitute for her failure. I gag her my torn stocking and lock her in the vomitorium. I consider urinating on her, but restrain myself at the last minute.
I have:
Gp: 69682997569.6
House: Triangular-with en-suite vomitorium
Stuff: 1 tin of baked beans, 1 torn stocking, 1 lump of rotting offal + 1 tin of mints, 6 werewolf meat, 5 human skin, 1 Thai-prostitute-with gag+saddle, 40 bees, 1 Swedish Penis Enlarger, 4 pairs of novelty specatcles, 1 foetus in a jar that occassionaly warns me of future catastrophies but refuses to speak in anything other than cryptic riddles, 35 snickers bars, 1 bondage encyclopedia, unlimited 40mm video cameras and adult daipers, one suit made from Ranck3's father's skin, a glass beaker containing dregs of Thai-Prostitute's vomit, 1 banana hammock, 2 infants, 1 planted infant, 1 half-moffal half-human baby, 1 rusty nail.
P point: 85.3 squared
jobs: Boning your mum, stealing children's toys, dribbling on passing strangers, licking windows, picking bars of condensed milk from particularly tall trees.
Irradiated Mutant level = 38.2 divided by the number you first thought of.
I am wearing: boxers, gimp mask, a suit made from your Grandmother's skin, bangles, a 10 gallon hat.
Dancing Mustard wrote:My moffal hybrid child learns to walk.
My moffal hybrid child is noticing changes about itself, it has questions it can't answer on its own. It goes walking on the common.
Unbeknownst to me, it thirsts for blood.
My planted infant sprouts into a baby-tree; it produces an arbitrary number of babies every arbitrary time period. At night the tree creaks in the wind and screams at the rain. I take delight in its tortured crys.
My Thai-Prostitute is still naked and shivering in the vomitorium; bruises cover her arms and back after her beating in the last post. I gain 20 satisfaction points.
This time I do not restrain myself at the last minute.
My Moffal hybrid child returns from the common with the mangled remains of a local child; it has painted its face with sticky pulp it scooped from the victim's skull. He looks vaguely like an Indian-Brave; only uglier. I pat the little scamp on the head; then I lick him clean. He wriggles and squirms, but soon the task is done.
I shower to clean myself; I fish my fetus from its pickling jar and take it with me. It makes a remarkably good sponge.
I gain +3 constitution. My Fetus gets -2 Self-respect.
At night I crave variety; I take my bee-hive, my penis-enlarger, and 1 Human Skin to JeffonFire's hovel.
I climb onto the roof. There I release the bees and remove my clothing. Howling the names of former-sprinters in a frentic litany I begin to interfere with myself amidst the torrent of stings. The pleasure becomes intense; I bite down upon the Human-Skin to stifle my ecstatic moaning. Faster the stings. Faster my hands. Somewhere, Jesus is crying.
I'm spent.
JeffonFire's house looks like Spiderman used a year's supply of webs on it.
I decide I have done enough for one day and go to sleep.
On my way home I find a cadaver laying in a ditch. I smile and tip him 3 gold.
I have:
Gp: 69682997569.6
House: Triangular-with en-suite vomitorium
Stuff: 1 tin of baked beans, 1 torn stocking, 1 lump of rotting offal + 1 tin of mints, 6 werewolf meat, 5 human skin, 1 Thai-prostitute-with gag+saddle, 40 bees, 1 Swedish Penis Enlarger, 4 pairs of novelty specatcles, 1 foetus in a jar that occassionaly warns me of future catastrophies but refuses to speak in anything other than cryptic riddles, 35 snickers bars, 1 bondage encyclopedia, unlimited 40mm video cameras and adult daipers, one suit made from Ranck3's father's skin, a glass beaker containing dregs of Thai-Prostitute's vomit, 1 banana hammock, 2 infants, 1 planted infant, 1 half-moffal half-human baby, 1 rusty nail.
P point: 85.3 squared
jobs: Boning your mum, stealing children's toys, dribbling on passing strangers, licking windows, picking bars of condensed milk from particularly tall trees.
Irradiated Mutant level = 38.2 divided by the number you first thought of.
I am wearing: boxers, gimp mask, a suit made from your Grandmother's skin, bangles, a 10 gallon hat.
Posted: Thu Mar 27, 2008 4:13 pm
