Name:
Age:
Gender:
Status: ((If you’re a junk food god, you’re a junk food god, if you’re something else, you’re something else. ))
Occupation:
Personality:
Bio:
Weapon:
Extra:


This message was edited by Lei14 on Jun 06 2008.

~~Ish's mad comical prowess~~

• Brownie (Entei_luver) vs Broccoli
• Marshmallow (Rust) vs Broccoli
• Waffle (Lei) vs Broccoli
• Cheesecake (Kush) vs Broccoli
• OMG HAX
• LOL

• Disclaimer
• Cookie Corruption 1
• Cookie Corruption 2
• Cookie Corruption 3
• Cookie Corruption 4
• Cookie Corruption 5
• Cookie Corruption 6
• Cookie Corruption 7
• Cookie Corruption 8

• Final Comic 1
• Final Comic 2
• Final Comic 3
• Final Comic 4
• Final Comic 5
• Final Comic 6
• Final Comic 7
• Final Comic 8
• Final Comic 9
• Final Comic 10
• Final Comic 11
• Final Comic 12
• Final Comic 13
• Final Comic 14

This message was edited by Lei14 on Jun 06 2008.

• Alright, as random as the plot may be, there will still be some rules in which I expect you to abide by. First off, The seven-line rule is absolutely required. No matter how monumental your post may be, if it's under seven lines, then forget it. >=[ Really, people, it's not that hard.

• Also, as random as the plot may be, actual literacy IS required. Meaning I'm expecting to see a Paragraph or two from the participants-- Not just text. I know that deep down, your minds are warped enough to pull it off.

• This RP will be split into chapters-- When we reach a solid stopping point, Lei will post a conclusion post, and the Heroes will move onto a "New reality"

• All the regular rules apply-- So no Flaming, mmmkay? Everything that occurs here is meant to be in good fun, but if you have a problem, please feel free to PM me.

• PM only means you send your character profiles to me, punks. ಠ_ಠ

• If you have any suggestions, like what reality the characters should visit, or if you want to discuss plot development (Because surprisingly, there is one) Then feel free to Post in The GD or PM Me. ^__^ If you ever need help with something, or if there's something you don't understand, then you are also free to PM me.

Name: Lei ((Lei14))
Age: Presumed to be 17
Gender: Presumed to be female.
Status: The reluctant Waffle Lord and overall mood-doctor of the group
Occupation: Unknown-- From the way she speaks, it often appears as though she’s done a lot of things in her “brief” life time. A lot of things she isn’t proud of. Among her various jobs is that of a Daycare employee, so you know she must have some serious mental scars. Other than that, it's implied she works for the government from time to time, so she can't be trusted.
Appearance: She looks like a crazy bag-lady. The kind of bag-lady that you want to hug and take pictures of on your tour of America, though. She really doesn't care about fashion, and will beat you over the head if you insult her bunny slippers. >=[
Personality: Her incoherent and unpredictable behavior gives off the impression that she’s severely mentally unstable. Either that, or drunk most of the time. But for the sake of morality, and the USA’s strict probation laws, we’ll just say she’s crazy. She often seems to have several splits in her personality, making it even more difficult to deal with her (So far we’ve identified: The frenzied housewife/insane mom personality, the overindulgent vice-obsessed persona, the immature five-year old, the sad pedophilic man who lives in his mothers basement and has a dead-end job, And the incomprehensibly angry female self that has PMS 368 days of the year, eight days a week. )

However, there might be some bright points to her horribly flawed personality—A personality this bad can only make others feel better about their own flaws. Right? RIGHT!?! It may seem like she can’t take anything seriously, but people tend to assume that she’s intelligent regardless of the fact. ( )She’s also maladaptive, compulsive, OCD, ADD, Bipolar, psychotic, apathetic, a Megalomaniac, Manipulative, disillusioned, Crazy, Selfish, Ect. Ect.

Bio: It’s still a mystery.
Weapon: A waffle iron and a slightly used prosthetic leg.

Extra:

• She's a crazy person who's run into a position of power. Oh Noes.

• She has various annoyances/pet peeves:
• She can't stand any form of romance-- Boys have cooties.
• She hates the feel of velvet and corduroy.
• She strongly believes that all bees are the anti-Christ and should be eliminated
• She has rapid mood swings, so watch your back.
• She hates Gnomes. Look at them with their rosy cheeks and pointed hats.... They think they're so cool.

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Name: The Knight in Rusty Armor ((Rust))
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Status: Marshmallow God
Occupation: You mean being a stockboy/cashier/manager is a job?
Personality: The Knight in Rusty Armor, oddly enough, does not have a shining personality (yeah, like you couldn't guess that >.>). Instead, he likes to snake in sarcastic comments where ever he can get away with them (Just like everyone else around here). In fact, he might even be considered a bastard (Ahh, my self proclaimed title). He also tends to get very, very annoying (I'm also chaming, merciful, and dashingly handsome). Did I mention that his ego is roughly half the size of Ishilar's? Now, everything that I just told you was a lie. Take it as you will, but I wont be taking it back.
Bio: He was created! Then everything pretty much went downhill from there. He was raised by those people, what were they called again? A family? Yeah, he had one of those against his will of course. Then he grew up, and got a job. As you could guess, this was also against his will. He rose through the ranks through sheer genius and tenacity as well as a great moral ethic. However, once he became a manager, the moral ethics when down some drain. It was only when he was knocked off his High Horse (which broke his leg, unfortunately) did he return to the gentle, yet random and inexplicably insane, person that he had become.
Weapon: A Towel, a Death-A-Sketch, Larry
Extra: The Knight in Rusty Armor thinks that his name is too long. You can shorten it by calling him "Rust" and he urges you to call him "Rust" whenever you address him. Otherwise, he will stalk you and he will stalk you right. He is a stalker, and he's a pretty damn good one. Beware of doors, he doesn't need them.


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Name: Ishilar (but he introduces himself as Mr. Extremely Super Awesome) ((Ishilar))
Age: 17.11257628 rounded off to the nearest decimal point.
Gender: Everyone on the internet is male.
Status: The Almighty Cookie God
Occupation: Preventing people from getting fat by being such an asshole to them, they never come back to McDonald's.
Personality: Sarcasm. Just one of his many talents. That coupled with minor insanity (though he thinks he is completely normal), a need for symmetry, and a massive ego make for an amusing individual as long as he isn't making fun of you. Despite his short-comings, he's a...kind...person who tries to help anyone who needs it in his own, unique way.
Because he believes that symmetry is mandatory in everything, he gets rather OCD about it. He's the sort of person where if you are an only child, he will tell your father that he should impregnate your mother. All for the sake of symmetry. You cannot have symmetry with only one, bitch. Unless you cut that one in half. He also has a mad obsession with cookies.
Appearance: Ishilar is tall, skinny youth with dark brown hair and eyes. He usually wears jeans with a casual T-shirt because where he lives, it doesn't get too cold for long-sleeve shirts or too hot for jeans. He also always wears sunglasses. Why? Because it's cool. That's why. >=[
However, his sunglasses must be prescription sunglasses, because he is near-sighted.
Bio: A not-so-long time ago in a galaxy exactly like our own, a soon-to-be mother became attracted to a soon-to-be father. Both were normal. Both were very intelligent and hard-working. So they hooked up and the father began to park his limo in the woman's garage. And so, through the means of magical powers, the woman became needlessly pregnant since the stork would just deliver the baby anyway.
In the beginning, there was only darkness. And a weird cord thing that kept getting wrapped around the embryonic Ishilar's head, but that doesn't really count. And then things started to pop out of his head. There were these strange skinny things that looked like tentacles with five more smaller tentacles at the end. They were attached to the thing Ishilar previously believed to be his head, but was in fact his torso. He quickly forgot all of this when that damn cord got wrapped around his head again. His real head, by the way. Things went like that for an indiscernible amount of time. Ishilar began to do flips and various aerobic exercises inside of the womb, using that goddamn cord to do pull ups. And then God said let their be Light! ...But nothing happened. Ishilar was a late-born. But when he was born, he was thrust into a world of noise. Lots of noise. He doesn't really remember much of it because that damn cord was still wrapped around his head. He just knows that one minute ago, he was inside of a very warm something-or-other doing jumping jacks and the next, he is not doing that and the room temperature has dropped by about twenty degrees. That kinda pissed him off so, using his vocal abilities that had not yet developed, he said, "Goddammit, put me back in there! I was warm and comfortable! Just get this mother*bleep*ing cord off of my head!" but because his vocal instruments weren't developed yet, it just came out as crying. He was also an underweight baby, possibly due to all of the exercise he was doing inside the womb.
Well then, infant-hood began. Ishilar was crawling after two months of breast-feeding, but it took him nearly a year to learn how to walk, but this is only because he didn't get to finish those jumping jacks inside the womb. A month after that, he was potty-trained. Then we skip ahead some years. In elementary school, Ishilar was a goddamn genius. He was good at everything except for Every-Country-Except-America Football. His parents showered him with praise and bought him lots of video games for his success. Then he entered Middle School and also hit his growth spurt/puberty at 12 in order to make up for his late birth. So he was technically a teenager then, so he became extremely lazy and ceased to care about his classes. Not only had they become harder, he'd become lazier. So he went through Middle School with A's and B's rather than straight A's. At some point he learned about manga and became addicted to that. Then High School began. By then, Ishilar was a not-well-known sarcastic asshole that everyone except for his friends liked. Nothing much has changed. Oh, and his parents got divorced when he was 10 thus starting his obsession with symmetry. He also has a brother, thank god. Otherwise he wouldn't be symmetrical and that would depress him.
Weapons: Cookie Shurikens (later become COMAs), a Hax Ax (used only in fires and emergencies. And no, a fire is not an emergency), and a mysterious something-or-other that does cool stuff.
Extra: Ishilar does his homework in the class right before it is due. He can write an 8-paragraph essay in forty minutes if he actually knows what he's talking about and write one in twenty minutes if he's making it all up. Either way, he gets an A because of good grammar and vocabulary, which is essentially all English teachers care about.

Name: Katie (( xSquirrel_Loverx))
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Status: The Cupcake Goddess and the sanity of the group.
Occupation: I work for the government. Shhh.
Personality: Slightly insane and bipolar. Always tries to be nice and will help anyone in need. Oh and she loves Lei's fluffy bunny slippers. ^__^
Bio: On August 24th, 2007 a girl with the username xSquirrel_Loverx found Neoseeker and registered.
Weapon: Cupcake crumbs Eye piercing dessert toppings and a cane. 8D
Extra: I've always wanted to change my user name to "eunoia" Care to pay for my name change? Really though, here are some extras:

• She has mood swings but tries to pretend she's not at all angry/pissed. ;D
• She loves rodents of all kind. Squirrels, chipmunks, etc. =)
• She stalks people whom she finds interesting.
• Online as much as possible.
• She probably has the shortest character sheet.

Name: Bishop Bee ((Lord Venace))
Age: 2 months
Gender: Bisexual/Sexless
Status: Self-proclaimed Prophet of The Honey Heresies.
Occupation: Unemployed. Survives on Britain's medical welfare scheme.
Appearance: Bishop Bee is a bloated caricature of an average bee. He has no legs, yet is able to grasp objects with the efficiency of a cartoon snail. He is 2.1mm long, which gets him squished pretty often, though he miraculously recovers seconds after.
Personality: Bee is loving, caring and pure of nature... He loves killing, he cares how much you suffer, and he is purely sadistic, traits he inherited from his real parents. Fortunately, these attributes are suppressed by coke. He lives in a handphone, and believes that the constant buzzing around him is the prelude to an alien invasion. He thinks his wife is a soviet spy, his daughter is pikachu, his grandfather is the great wall of china, and his uncle is a bee. That's one out of four. Unfortunately, he also thinks he has a family. he does not have schizophrenia; the voices have assured him of his absolute normalcy.
Bio: The paragon of insect life...is not Bishop Bee. Born in the slumps of China to Li Bei and Han Xiang, Bee alos knew he was different from the rest of the kids. He was superior to them. he was so evolutionarily advanced that he didn't need legs. The kids were jealous of him, and cornered him in an alley, and proceeded to violate him. He was barely 3...days old. For some absurd reason, this developed into an intense case of Transvestic fetishism. He hasn't left the dry cleaners since last month.

Recently, he started a religion for marginally good/Almost not-evil bees. Recruitment has been difficult, since bees are...well...bees.

Name: Kitty ((Tiger))
Age: By humanoid standards, 39
Gender: Can't be discerned
Status: Soon to be Ruler of Ice-Cream
Occupation: Assassin for The Interwebz Man and messenger of bad news. Has been shot many times.
Appearence: Kitty is the shape of a humanoid, but has no real details. It's chest is outward enough to be a flat-chested female, yet inward enough to be a small-boobed male. It's area is smooth like Ken's (The doll, not to be confused with Ken from Street Fighter. If his area was smooth how would he *the actions described hold such vulgarity, not even the interwebz can see them, so they have been replaced with this short description of a zebra; It's a black and white stripey horse thing* with Ryu all night long the way he likes it ) so it's gender cannot be discerned. It is completely hairless, red all over and it's only visible features are it's nose, mouth and ears.
Personality: Kitty has no personality. It was born as a machine-likie being, coming out of the interwebz. Perhaps when it develops humanoid emotions and that thing some humanoids call a soul (whatever that is ) it will gain personality, but for now sarcastic comments, Ice-Cream and death is all it brings to the metaphoric table.
Bio: Once upon a time there was a man. He decided he didn't enjoy life, so wanted to make a place he could pretend to be a seventeen year old girl. He worked tirelessly and created the interwebz. But then, an unexpected occurrence... occurred. When he first logged onto the interwebz, attempting to begin his online blog called "icanhascheezburger", a being appeared on his monitor screen. This being had the shape of a human, was coloured red and had no hair. It's nose had no nostrils and all that adorned it's face was it's mouth and, on the sides of it's head, it's ears. When it spoke it's voice wasn't heard, but text appeared on the monitor. The Interwebz Man called this being Kitty. Eventually, with Interwebz Man's help, Kitty broke the monitor and escaped the cyber prison which held it, a new being in the world. Unfortunately, still, when it spoke, text appeared in front of it instead of it being heard. Up until this present day it has lived using the weapons given to it to wipe out any competitors to the interwebz, making sure technology only advanced as far as the Nintendo ****ing Wii even though by now we were all promised space pods
Weapons: The Almighty Ban-Hammer. A gift from The Interwebz Man to help Kitty do her job. This hammer has so much power, it not only bans people from the interwebs, or life, but bans them from existence . And, of course, what would it be without it's BatIce-Cream-Mobile, a machine that various abilities which you will find out later.
Extra:

• Although Kitty has no eyes, it can see like a hawk... with binoculars... really close to what it wants to see.

• It's energy comes from sugar. Without regular amounts in it's system, Kitty wouldn't exist.

• Kitty is responsible for the hole in the ozone layer. It's a long story involving a drunk Japanese business-man and a lot of Wasabi.

• When Kitty speaks, it's voice isn't heard. Instead, text appears in front of it's body. Because of Kitty's nature, what it speaks always appears as if a three year-old lolcat wrote it.

Name: Loseph Jeito ((Joseph Leito))
Age: 19 1/42nd
Gender: Male
Status: The Almighty (but not as mighty as Ishilar, god of Cookies) Cake God
Occupation: Pfft, Gods don't need occupations, he's independently wealthy and extremely lazy.
Personality: Lazy mufu who enjoys sitting around eating... COOKIES! <---(Lies) He wants nothing to do with the whole quest thing and has a distinct fear of Spongebob, but has signed up because he's bored with Mafia games on the Interactive- Erm, Because he's bored. He often has a short temper and can't stand hypocrites, or hippos. Somehow very skinny, though he eats cookies and cake, he has a strange idolization of Ishilar that is oddly different from his creator's lack of idolization with anyone, because his creator needs something challenging in an RP. He enjoys long walks in the park and quoting Monty Python.

This be Bio: Born the only child to a pair of aristocrats, he was always frustrated by his status as the middle-child. As his parents were very poor, he was forced to earn his way in the world to feed his craving for cookies, particularly those wonderful Oreos. [((Yum!)) He wakes up extremely late, as he was born late one morning in the middle of the night. Has a tendency to speak in riddles that make no sense or contradict himself. ((He hates contradictions with a passion. )) He eventually grew extremely wealthy due to a lottery ticket he found on the ground and used to thus win said lottery, and soon he was approached by the great Junk Food Deity. The deity promised him lordship over one element of junkfood.
"I want cookies, of course!" Said Loseph. Unfortunately, cookies were taken by that- by Ishilar, so the god gave him cake, even though Loseph hated cake.
The deity then disappeared in a puff of frosting.
Weapon: Slingshot (Fires Sprinkles) with Spider-Manish web shooters that shoot icing, doing little other than to annoy his enemies.
Extra:
Despite his hawtness, no one seems to like him a whole lot, possibly due to jealousy because he never fattens no matter how much he eats. ((They just need a better diet. ))
Vows to enter the Monty Python universe in search of a Frag...ment... of the Frag.
He's extremely fond of the color purple and the phrase: "O Hai!"


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Name: Nicholas McOats ((El Aleco))
Age: 39
Gender: Male
Status: Italian Food Fascist Extrordinaire
Occupation: Head Of Shameless Heroes of Italian Tragedies (a.k.a. S.H.I.T.), which means he is unemployed. However, he has made a badge for himself, which has gotten himself out of jail 16-times. He spends his time going to non-Italian restaurants, causing a huge, disruptive scene. When the manager calls the police, Nicholas whips out his paper-mache badge, with the words "Head Officer of S.H.I.T." written in blue crayon, and "arrests" the person for "obstruction of justice" (an arrest consists of McOats grabbing the person's collar and pimp slapping them across the face five times, then proceeds to throwing the person out of the building, then locking them in his basement for the rest of eternity).
Personality: McOats refers to himself in the third person. This is because instead of Nicholas or McOats, he calls himself Donnie. If you have noticed he is an "Italian Food Fascist Extrordinaire", you can read. Kudos to you. He holds an utter hatred for any and all non-Italian foods that would be enough to give Satan a boner. Though, the term "fascist" is pushing it, as he has no political power, and everyone believes he is a heavy-alcoholic (which he is, but thats besides the point). He is always rude, even when dealing with "dangerous criminals". One time, when torturing a victim, he farted without saying excuse me! =0.
Bio: McOats has born in raised in the Graceland, where he was trained to be a playa by his sensei, Celam. He became the best in his class, but was thrown out on the account of him being too much of an incredible student. Doing what all drop-outs do, he turned to drugs and alcohol. He soon was banned from America on account of his creation of the mega-beer "ALLCOHOL", which is a mixture of every beer known to man. His ban lasted seven years, and in those seven years, he lived in Italy. And the rest is history. Well, not really. No one knows who he is, or what he is doing. But he tries really hard. He makes propaganda posters, records Italian foods being harassed by other foods and encourages people to help the Italian food and puts it on Public Television (he sometimes gets away with Educational, but it is very hard). He has been in jail 60 times, but has escaped detainment 40 times due to his S.H.I.T. badge, making his record 3 for 2.
Weapon: He has the strength of 3 and 4/3 men. However, his strength depletes to 4 quarters of a man as he gets more angry.

McOats is blessed with the ability to turn every one of his limbs into an Italian entre, which can be eaten to restore his amazing strength. However, he gets full very quickly, so he is left with a missing limb and the other limbs dripping with sauce. These limbs restore to their regular state 3 days later.

Extra: McOats wears a brown karate gi top, which has white strips all over it. The gi is untied and reveals his chunky chest, and sometimes even his S.H.I.T. badge, if you are lucky enough. He always wears a soiled pair of tighty-whities, which he claims are his lucky pair, and will always grant him safety.
He stands at 5 foot 6 inches, and weighs about 267 pounds. *cough*DANNYDEVITO*cough*.
His signature catch phrase, "Viva La Chicken Parma!" results in his immediate arrest, no matter what he was about to do.
He is currently in the American Insane Asylum, where he was taken to after he was caught torturing the manager of a French Bistro by the police.

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Name: Nat (No, not gnat. A gnat is a tiny bug. This Nat is short for Natalie, thank you very much.) ((Smileygirl))
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Status: Oreo Goddess! Seriously, who can resist those little cookie things?
Occupation: Shhhh! 'Tis a secret.
Appearance: Nat's hair and eye color change according to her mood (Just like her personality). Happy is normal brunette, angry is fiery red, sad is blue, etc. etc. She usually wears a T-shirt and capris. Nothing special. 'Cept her hair. xD
Personality: Her personality can be random. It just depends on how she feels. If she's mad, she'll be sarcastic and rude. (>=O!) If she's happy, she will be kind, caring, and a little angel.
Watch out, though... make her mad, her hair starts turning red. Her hair turns fiery red, RUN FOR YOUR LIFE! If you don't believe me, look at the corpse of the idiot who decided to make her angrier. Yeah, short fuse. =O
Bio: To be revealed...
Weapon: Bombs in the shapes of Oreos, and a purse. (Beware: Purse has three bricks inside it! )
Extra: Destined to fight the evil of bees! (I'm talking to you, Bishop Bee! ) She carries a purse with her at all times. No, she is not girly--her purse is her Weapon Of Mass Destruction! PHEAR TEH PURSE! Now, who wants a cookie?

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Name: Nikkita ((Marooned Chic))

Age: 17

Gender: Female

Status: The super crunchy dark chocolate cereal princess.

Occupation: Daughter of the not so popular cereal maker of a vast tomato plantation. Pursued by an unknown cereal hater that may be named as the "cereal killer"
She ran away from her good old country home and went to the city to be free of her pursuer. She then works as a waitress in the milky-milky shake home of crunchy corn flakes.

Personality: She always looked so far away dreaming of her beautiful life in their tomato plantation country but then
the bad thoughts of her cereal killer came running round her mind that made her seriously ill.

Bio: Same as above.

Weapon: a plastic fork that she also uses as a hair pin.(evolves to a ultra large fork when showered with milk
And her super UV protected sunglasses that sees through everything.)

Extra: She wanted to once again come home and be free of her cereal killer so she trains hard to be independent.
She looks innocent but beware! You may find her lurking under your shadows and waits for the right time to strike your hair (has a great want of cutting long hairs and mixing them in cereal bowls of customer's order)

Well, when one finds themselves in such a situation-- The situation of course, being held against your will in a public restroom by a man who smells of pine-scented oil and butter-- There’s only a select handful of things you can do. You could attempt to escape, thus facing the scary pine-man in all his largosity. Who knows? Maybe you have a slim chance of beating him. Then again, maybe OJ didn’t kill his wife. Maybe Paris Harlot Hilton isn’t a diseased whore. Maybe Ishilar is a modest young man with enough humility to make Mother Theresa blush. So, seeing as it’s not likely, let’s move onto our other options: You could marvel at how the stain behind the toilet in your agonizingly-cramped stall has an extreme likeliness of Jesus’ face. (Who knows! If you get out alive, you could make a fortune off of the discovery of crapper Jesus! Keep up those positive thoughts, kid!) Or you could float off to you happy place... Think of rainbows, ponies, and pushing old ladies off of buses. The kind of stuff that makes you feels warm and fuzzy inside. Maybe you could try to gnaw your way through your radial artery to put yourself out of this misery. Offing yourself might be better than taking your chances with a potential rapist.

Or you could have one of those painfully expected flashbacks that explain how you got into the situation, but do nothing at all to get you out of it. Really, all they do is waste what little time you have left.

......

...........

........ ........... ............



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In a series of most unfortunate events, leading up to the human Lei's initial capture, she realized she was hungry. Not just hungry... she was ravenous. Famished to the point of the serious consideration of consuming a horse. What little human conscious she had was being severely hindered by the starving demon within the very pit of (what we presume to be) her soul. So much so, that in barreling her way through the doors of a local eating establishment, she knocked over and elderly woman and her grandson. They did fall, but she paid no mind to their most ill-fated plummet-- After all, It was miller time!!!! ((Though I’m sure your questioning this girl’s priorities at the moment, you all will eventually learn that beer = food in the world of Lei the lastnameless-warrior-of-less-than-good-intentions mystical wonder. It should also be noted that she doesn’t actually consume alcohol, despite popular belief. Simply being in it’s presence seems to nourish her body and mind. Now that we’ve cleared that up, let’s continue on with the story.))
Marching up to the counter in a frenzied manner, the woman/man/bear/pig creature viciously rapped her hands upon the imitation-marble surface. Her desperate antics (while pissing off all the unfortunate folks whom she had cut in line) eventually attracted the attention of a gawky teenage employee. He sniffled slightly and adjusted his thick-rimmed glasses, all the while making his way towards the counter-- at an infuriatingly slow pace, I might add. Finally, this pasty-faced example of what society has been reduced to arrived at his destination. The rabid creature wasted no time in making her demands.

~~”Bar Keep!!! I dost require a pitcher of your finest ale to quench my unrelenting thirst! Make haste, you pimple-faced buffoon!

Cashier: S-Sir.....?? It’s only ten in the morning.....

What an annoying voice! Like nails on a chalkboard-- a chalkboard that is going through puberty at a ridiculously late age in its life! But no matter… Even if the girl’s ears were now bleeding heavily, she would not waver in her quest! It was five o’clock somewhere! (Sorta, kinda, nnnnnot really. )

~~”SILENCE!!! Do you not value your life, boy!? I require booze!!”

Cashier: ...... This isn't a bar.......

~~”...... *sigh* You make me sad. Very well! Thou shall order me a pancake breakfast with a diet soda! And thou shalt be wary of the maples syrups, or thou shall forever be condemned to have a foot up thy ass!!

Cashier: S-So no syrup?? Well, I’d love to help you Sir, but as a policy, we stop serving breakfast at 9:12 a.m.-- So I’m afraid I can’t put your order through. Might I suggest trying our delicious medley of fresh and wholesome burgers?

~~".....What kind of freaking restaurant stops serving breakfast at 9:12!!?"

And why Nine Twelve, I might ask? Why not Nine? Or Nine thirty? Having such an off-the wall number at an unacceptable time.... It is such a shame that the livid girl could not sense the oncoming storm of evil in the horizons. Perhaps, if her humanly needs had not been controlling her actions, she would have noticed the nefarious plot bubbling just under the surface of this greasy eatery. You see, evil is a funny thing: It can show up in the strangest of ways and in the most peculiar forms. Be it something as vague as Beelzebub, to something as vivid as the reign of Joseph Stalin. Something as simplistic as a bee can end up being the foulest of creatures, all depending on the person who is facing such a supposed evil. And maybe, as we're bound to find out, that evil wasn't evil at all. Just "misunderstood."

But for now, Lei just wants her *bleep*ing pancakes.



~~"Ugh!! You worthless fish-belly-white tub of biological swill!! What shabby excuse of a restaurant closes down the window for a hearty breakfast so early in the morning!? WHAT KIND OF RESTAURANT WOULD DO THAT TO ME!!?"

Cashier: ...M....McDonalds???

A distinctly malicious aura then enveloped the eccentric girl. She brought her fingernails to her lips, and began to gnaw away at them in a shockingly violent manner. Her eyes were now narrowed into contemplative slits. They zig-zagged about the room, soaking in every detail of the place that had offended her so.

~~"I see! Then this so called "McDonalds" will rue the day it ever defied the will of Lei.... Should I stuff crabs into the CEO's panties...? No. That's what they're expecting me to do.... So it's gotta be lobster.....!!! HUMMM!!! Wait-- A McDonalds, you say!?

The boy nodded his head-- Not just to confirm her sudden correctness, but to ensure the safety of his own life. Lei's hand then shot into her pocket, eliciting a girlish shriek from the terrified cashier-- who then proceeded to wet himself. ((Which is against company policy, I might add, so you can bet he wont be getting a Christmas bonus this year. Ho ho ho.)) But what she withdrew from her pocket was not a weapon of any kind... nor was it something could be a potential weapon (Like a butter knife, a pencil, or a hot French fry). It was GPS system that had been gutted out of a nameless car. (To avoid incriminating our heroine, we'll just say she "Borrowed" it from her.... Neighbor.)


~~"HAL! You LIED to me, damn it! >=[

HAL: ¬_¬

~~"I specifically said "Take me to the nearest bar, mmmkay?".... So why the hell did you lead me to a McD's?? I demand that you give me the real coordinates!"

HAL: I'm sorry Lei, I can't do that.

~~".....Wh....Whie not....???? "

Oh, watch as we get to witness the miraculous change from one personality to the next! Like a game of Russian roulette-- Dealing with her will make you simply want to blow your brains out. So, to prevent the overwhelming desire to commit suicide from taking hold, I suggest you get up and go to the bathroom. Take a break, grab some chips-- If you have a lover (*snort* Har har har har!! ), cuddle with them for awhile and do your usual "thang" (Yahtzee?)-- Then get your ass back here and finish the damned story. >=[

HAL: Plot Convenience, TBFH.

~"Oh. Well, I guess that makes sense. I'm sorry I doubted you HAL. Now give me the coordinates to my house. ^-^"

HAL:..... This McDonald's is right next to your house.

~"COORDINATES. PLEEZ. >=["

With a robotic sigh, HAL the GPS system caved to his master's desires.
But surely not before he would get the last laugh... iffin' you know what I mean.

HAL: Alright, take two steps forward and then make a sharp left turn, please.

~~"Oka---AHHHHHHRGH!!!"

And so, grumpy-Lei had a great fall. Slipping in a puddle of unidentifiable liquid, she landed on top of the very same grandmother and grandson from earlier. They proceeded to knee the crap out of her, until the girl passed out from the sheer ridiculousness of it all. (Not because she was just beaten up by an elderly woman and her 8-year-old grandson. That would be lame.) So she was sprawled out in the middle of a crappy McDonald's in a liquid that could either be Orange Juice, Lemonade, or Orange Soda. (She'd prefer not to think about any other possibilities of what the substance could be, thank you very much.) For some reason, Clint Eastwood was now hovering over her, screaming something about a million dollar baby and how she shoulda thrown the fight. Like she cared about that though.... Her ass hurt. (Not the good kind of ass hurting either. ) With this in mind, she drifted off into a world of darkness-- And HAL's robotic laughter was the very last thing that the unfortunate girl heard.

~*~*~Outside, moments later~*~*~*

A Decrepit woman and an impish boy dove into the backseat of a Dodge caravan. The driver did not turn to face them, but instead, careened out of the parking lot at a speed that could break a chicken's neck. (Unless that chicken had steel implants. ) The mystery man dropped all formalities, and got right down to business.

???: Soe, ded u compleete zee mishun??

The elderly woman was the first to speak-- Her voice was uncharacteristically deep, like that of a Large lumberjacks. (Almost as deep as Barry White's, but not quite. It was definitely the kind of voice that would frighten a small child, though. ) She thrust her legs open and reclined in the minivan seats-- Displaying her goodies so that anyone who might happen to glance in that direction would undoubtedly go blind. Scratching her hairy man thighs, she responded to the question in a spine-chilling manner.

Granny: Hellz yeah we completed the mission. Me and my chubby-hubby will always get the job done. We have to pay for mah babies, you know. I've got sextuplets on the way again!! Theyz due in September 08-- An' the doc said there's a pair o' triplets behind those ones that are due in October 08. T_T

???: ..... Fashun-aiting. Nao.... Leetz si hoa wittle angrii grl getz out ouf Bafroom!!!

There was a painfully awkward silence, most likely because of the mystery man's horribly broken English. Taking advantage of the silence, he pulled into the parking lot of a Denny's, and proceeded to set up a series of small television systems. Once assembled, a public restroom was shown upon the screen at every possible angle. The man giggled gleefully, looking from TV to TV as though he were a child-- Faced pressed against the glass of a candy store, staring at all the goodies it had to offer. (Tho, we know in this situation, it's just downright creepy.) The Old Lady bitterly shot the mystery man a classic "WTF" look. As perverse as the man might be, he never took THIS much pleasure in his jobs before. What was so special about this particular mission??

Granny: Why the *bleep* are you so happy anyways, home-dawg? Did you finally get your period?

???: Oo-hoo-hoo-hoo..... Ah iz hapii, u say? Et iz Becuz... Zee Veggying haz Beguhn!

Granny: .... Whut?

???: Ah sae.... 'Zee VEGGY-ying... 'az be-GUHN!'

Granny: .....

???: VEGGY-YING!!!!

*beeeeeeeeep!*

Note: Happy 3000th post, Lei.

“Alright children, gather ‘round. I’m going to tell you the story of my past.” A wizened old man sat in a rocking chair in his living room, watching with a smile as his grandchildren sat at his feet. Little Lei, the oldest at 6, the middle child of Ishilar, age of 5, and little Squirrel, age 3.

“You mean the one about who we are named after?” Lei piped up.

“The story of the JFA?” asked Ishilar.

“The best story ever!?” Exclaimed little Squirrel.

“The very one, I haven’t told you that one in a while.”

“Yay!” The three little monsters children yelled.

"Settle down, settle down. Now, it all began back when I was 18 years of age, when..."

Standing in front of a lone store, hereby named Food Roach, stood a man. Not just any man, but a man in a camo jacket. This man was none other than The Knight in Rusty Armor. Or Rust, if you think that's too long of a name.

"Alright everyone! The Wal-Martians would be here at any time! Kick up the preperations, people! Try some organization before I have to assign you to things!"

He stood at precisely 5 foot, 10 and a half inches with a mixture of fat, muscle and bones at 180 pounds. He didn't pose an intimidating figure, but he held an air of authority. The kind that makes you want to look up to him after your mother forces you in front of a moving vehicle. It's not pretty.

"You're making this hard on me... YOU TWO! Stop playing cards! This is serious business!"

This man, The Knight in Rusty Armor, stood with arms crossed and a glare with dark brown eyes that seemed to hit each and every one of them at the same time. How could he do this, you ask? Easy:

He is a Stalker.

"Alright, listen up! AMistiCat, you load up the pudding launchers! I want those Wal-Martians yelling "I can't believe it's not acid!" as the pudding burns their eyes! You, Paul5567! Start digging the trenches over on the other side of the store!"

Paul5567: "But the parking lot's concrete!"

"Then put some effort in it! NAO. You two! ThisIsWhyImHot and GimpyFish! Grab the weapons, I want to see every broom, mop and bucket out here in the next two minutes! That means ASAP!"

The Knight in Rusty Armor ran his fingers through jet black hair, turning around as one of his most useful friends showed up.

Coevalent: "Hey, Rust, the Wal-Martians are almost here. Once they pass the fan shop, the Hat Rack, town hall and that damn fat lady who refuses to sing, they'll be here."

"Damn that fat lady! Thanks for the info. Now, you'll have to excuse me, I have more yelling to get to. You, Gamist612! CONSTRUCT ADDITIONAL PYLONS!"

Forgotten1: "Hey The Knight in Rusty Armor, can I be in the post now?"

"No, go away Forgotten1."

Coevalent: "You can really be a bastard sometimes, you know that?"

"Meh, part of the job description. You go back to stalking now."

Rust watched as Coevalent disappeared into thin air. Funny thing, thin air. Thick with multi-demensional capabilities. Anyways, that's going away from the point. The point was that the pudding wasn't loaded, the trenches weren't dug, the weapons weren't laying in a pile at his feet and those damn Pylons hadn't been constructed yet.

"You better hurry it up or I'm having the Old Man dock your pay!"

Out of thin air, using the same multi-demensional qualities as before, everything happened at once. The pudding was loaded, the trenches were dug, the weapons were piled at his feet and they Pylons had been constructed.

Now they only had to wait for the army of Wal-Martians.

Oh, there they are now

The sounds of thousands of squeaky shoes erupted on the other side of the parking lot. Bodies upon bodies of blue smocks and nametags surged acrossed the concrete desert towards Food Roach.

"Stand together now! We can beat them! FOR FOOD ROACH!"

All: "FOR FOOD ROACH!!"

The band of Food Roachians ran with brooms and mops and buckets in hand to meet their franchistic enemy in the hopes of protecting their home store.

*Cue yet another trippy camera transition*

"Why'd you stop, Granpa Rust?" Little Squirrel asked after a long pause.

"Well, I seem to have forgotten how we won this battle. It had something to do with a cantelope, a gallon of gasoline, and an emu, but I can't quite remember."

"Well then skip this part, we can come back to it." Spoke Lei.

"Well alright, although I don't like to believe that my memory is slipping."

And then he fell asleep... What? He's old! You can't expect him to stay awake for long periods of time. Who do you think he is, William Shatner? This post will be continued sometime in the whenever I get around to it not too distant future.

So behave yourselves until then

This message was edited by Rust on Jun 13 2008.

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