Wait...where is the wretched hive of spam and cookies? Don't mind me, i'm just doing some research *cough cough*
I added you into Spam Wars...
Welcome to Spam Wars
Welcome to Spam Wars.
Look it's FR-LES
From the outer depths of the infandecimal interwebz, a dark streak of metal materialized, forming the hulking intimidating form of an Insider Class Spam Destroyer. The destroyer transitioned into real space smoothly as a detachment of 4Chan Fighters took flanking positions around the massive vessel, marching her toward her homecoming. The destroyer flexed with grace, while being escorted toward the largest weapon of the Insider’s arsonal: The Database Error. A single shuttle rocketed from the destroyer’s forward docking bay, guarded by the fighters as it flew toward the docking ring further below. A figure stood at the viewport, watching with mock enthusiasm. The brief inner reprieve was suddenly shattered as the other members in the conference chamber returned to arguing amongst each other. Aside from herself, Grand Spam Absol was accompanied by seven lesser ranked generals and two Spamtroopers stationed outside the chamber. Admiral Dalk slammed his fists into the conference table, his chair fallen to the side as his anger finally spilled over. “Until this DBE is fully operational we are vulnerable. The KHV Alliance is too well equipped. They may be a feeble guerrilla resistance, but they are more dangerous than you allow them credit.†“Dangerous to your fleet you mean Dalk, not to this station. No one would dare to challenge us.†Commander Advent threw back, twisting his fists together, trying to remain civil. Dalk shook his head, surveying the other men and women present. “The rebellion will continue to spread. It has been able to gain support from Ultimania and members of the Insider Senate as long as…†“The Insider Senate will no longer be of any concern to us. I’ve just learned that the Emperor has permabanned the Senate. The last remnants of the Olden Days have been swept away.†Absol announced receiving a mock applause from Dalk. “What did you use, Oxyclean? How is the Emperor supposed to maintain control without bureaucracy?†“The Section Leaders now have direct control over their threads. Fear will keep the sub sections in line. Fear of this DBE.†A new voice cleared their throat, as General Trigger placed a glass back on the opaque conference table. “And what of KHV? If those rebels have obtained a complete technical hack of this DBE, it is possible, however unlikely, that they might find a backdoor file and exploit it.†“The readouts that you are referring will soon be back in our hands.†Darth Renegade announced, as his dark body cast an expansive shadow into the conference room. Two Spamtroopers stood at attention inside the room, their blaster rifles relaxed, yet prepared for unnecessary combat. “Sure they will. Even so, any attack by the Rebels would be a slaughter. This DBE is now the ultimate power in the universe. I suggest,†Advent looked around at those others in attendance, an eyebrow raised sneakily, “That we give the universe a ticket to the gun show.†Darth Renegade entered the conference room and moved toward Absol, the only sound coming from the mechanical respirator keeping the Dark Lord alive. “Don’t be too proud of this technological monstrosity you’ve created. The ability to destroy a section is insignificant next to the power of the Force.†“Oooo!!†Advent laughed, his arms floating in the air around him as he pretended to force choke Dalk who responded by simply flipping him off. “Don’t try to frighten us with your voodoo ways, Lord Renegade. Your sad devotion to that ancient religion has not helped you conjure up the stolen plans, or allowed you the clairvoyance to find the Rebel’s hidden databanks—“ Advent’s hand suddenly froze in mid-air, before rocketing back towards him and latching onto his neck. Advent flew backwards with the force of the impact, knocking his chair backwards and ramming into the cold durasteel floor. Dalk and Trigger stared in fear as Advent’s hand tightened around his throat, slowly choking away the last moments of air. Renegade stood calm, his hand raised ever so slightly from his folded arms, his left hand cupped around air. “I find your lack of faith unacceptable.†As Advent’s eyes fluttered, Absol stood, slamming her fist into the table. “Enough! Renegade, release him!†“Psssh. Fine.†Renegade’s hand relaxed as a burst of life flooded Advent, who squirmed onto his hands and knees, gasping in air. Absol’s eyes narrowed as they refocused on Darth Renegade. “This bickering is pointless. Lord Renegade will provide us the location of the KHV mainframe by the time this station is operational, and with it, we will wipe away the Rebellion with one…last…shot.†Absol flexed her fingers, throwing her head back to release a drawn out Kira laugh which echoed down the corridors and reverberated into the empty nothingness of space. *** The whine of DMaster’s twin landspeeder engines cast a veiled ballad across the Cliffside walls, mixing amongst the toxic fumes bleeding from the wounded battlefield. SORA-13 panned his receptor slowly across the massacre. Coder bodies littered the sand surrounding the twisted remains of the massive Codebreaker. T-3CO stood near the outskirts, identifying the mutilated remains of EvilMan_89. Repliku slowly gathered in the scene, trying to see that which one normally could not. “This looks like a Role Player ambush all right,†DMaster concluded, lifting up a hunk of shattered decking, “There are Bantha tracks and failed threads…I’ve just never known them to attack anything this big before.†“They didn’t.†Repliku announced as a gust of wind fought with the outer fringes of his robe. “We are meant to believe that they did. This attack took place with precision, Role Player’s can never coordinate an attack this thought out in a single line of dialogue. They attack sporadically to hide their numbers.†“Wait a minute,†DMaster’s attention shifted, locking onto the empty face of Antiweapon, “These…these are the same Coders that sold us 13 and TO…†Repliku barely heard him, his hands dancing across a series of blaster marks and burnt metal. “These blast points are too focused, too accurate for Role Players as well…only Insider Troopers are so precise.†“But why would Insider Troopers want to slaughter Coders? It’s not like—“ The words froze as his mind connected the final dot while his heart fractured in revelation, “If they traced the droids here that would mean they know who the droids were sold to and that would lead them—“ DMaster leapt forward, side stepping disfigured bodies as he raced toward his speeder. SORA-13 chirped in protest while DMaster skidded past, nearly knocking the droid over. “Wait Luke!†Repliku cried out, attempting to match the youth’s speed and determination, “It’s too dangerous to go alone!†But his plea was swallowed by the roar of the speeders engines, protesting against the wide open throttle. Wind tore at DMaster’s face as dunes and boulders barely survived the rampaging speeder, hell bent on disproving the nightmare flashing through his mind. His hands flew across the controls nimbly, practiced even while his mind struggled to remove a feeling of dread from the shadows of his stomach. The speeder burst from the Discussion Sea, gaining speed across the float lands. A pinprick of black smoke dotted the horizon, confirming DMaster’s panic. Minutes later, the dot of black had morphed into a billowing death shroud, blanketing the Homestead. Before he could put the speeder in park, DMaster surged from the pilot seat. “Uncle ICSP!!! Aunt Pyro!!!†He screamed, his lungs protesting against the smoke inching down his throat. DMaster rounded the enflamed sunken garden, skidding to a halt, bile and tears welling up. Two charred bodies lay pressed against the hanger wall, locked hand in hand for all eternity. One hand lay against the wall, beneath a blood soaked message hardening in the heat: At 12:56 local time, Insider Troops raided our Homestead looking for two droids. ICSP and Pyro were both taken into the hanger for questioning. When they both failed to confirm the Troopers countless demands, they were doused in fuel and engulfed in flame. Time of death… The final letters faded away, culminating in a trail of blood and ending at the base of a small charred black book tucked behind the bodies. DMaster fell to his knees, every fiber of his family expunged from the galaxy. Try as he might, tears refused to cascade. The DMaster lineage, marred by the death of his father and now with ICSP and Pyro, would also perish on in a section where there would be no escape. Escape…the word echoed in his subconscious. All though the raw pain of loss tore at his heart, a glimmer of rebirth festered, demanding to be released. Avenge his families honor. If anyone could help him see this through, Repliku and the distant Rebellion were his only hope now. DMaster turned slowly, retracing his steps toward the idling speeder. The sound of furniture collapsing amongst the flames erupted from below, but DMaster never looked back. His destiny was his own now. *** The humming of gravity repulsor’s and the titanic subspace engines pulsated through the Database Error while a squadron of 4Chan Fighters practiced mock combat scenarios free of outside threats. Deep within the Database, Darth Renegade entered the twisting hallways flanked by First Officer Jube and Second Officer Tummer. The two entered the high security brig moments before, set on a single destination. Darth Renegade’s mind twisted and venomously delved into the dark side energy, consuming the body of fear growing ever closer from Admin CtR’s cell. His focus returned as Tummer de-activated the security system surrounding the cell. The prison door hissed, releasing an airtight seal as the door parted in the middle. CtR rose slowly, her momentary fear sank behind her repositioned armor surrounding her psyche. Jube and Tummer entered first, taking flanking positions around the doorway. CtR remained statuesque, even as Renegade entered, the outer edges of a covering display monitor floating quietly behind. “Now your Highness, have you reconsidered your pathetic hold out?†CtR remained unprovoked, fearlessly staring back into Renegade’s steel eyes momentarily as her focus shifted to the display. Renegade smiled behind his faceplate. “So be it. We will get the information on KHV’s mainframe and hidden base from you by any means necessary.†The display rose up, passing above Jube and Tummer, adhering itself to the ceiling durasteel. Renegade flicked his hand, an unseen power latching around CtR, dragging her back on the cold carbonite slab while coils materialized beneath began to snake their way across her body, imprisoning and removing every possible room for movement. The display slowly brightened as a white status bar gyrated in the middle of the screen, ticking upwards from zero. “Your pathetic means of torture won’t work Renegade. I will not give you want you want.†The display suddenly erupted in technicolored brilliance, pixels racing to form images zipping faster than the camera could keep up. Sound instantly burst into the room as the mix of engines and rowdy fans buffered across the small metal cell. CtR ground her teeth, parting her lips enough to smirk in resilience. “You think Nascar is going to make me crack? I can out last this.†A slow rumble of mechanical laughter mixed with the simulated race. “The Coca-Cola 600. The longest race of the season. No commercial breaks. We shall see.†The prison door pissed closed as Jube and Tummer screamed for their lives inside, only to be drowned out by the breathing of the mechanical superweapon as it slumbered. *** A large funeral pyre rose from the dusty canyon floor as DMaster’s speeder slowly came to a rest. He exited the vechicle, a numb determination willing him onward. T-3CO paused momentarily, holding the liveless remains of a coder as he watched his master approach. Repliku noticed as well, rising and dusting off his knees. A chilled sadness radiated beneath his hooded face. “There is nothing you could have done Luke. You would have been killed as well…and the droids would now be in the hands of the Insiders.†DMaster nodded, accepting the rational. He lifted his head, his hair fluttering in the dust wind. “I’m coming with you to the Staff Lounge. There is nothing for me here now. I’m the last of my lineage and I have the opportunity to help the betterment of the galaxy so that other’s don’t have to suffer my same pain. To do that…†He inhaled, confidence growing, “I want to learn the ways of the Force and become a jedi like my father…†Repliku nodded slowly, accepting the reasoning. He reached out, placing his hand on the teen’s shoulder. He alone knew the pressure and commitment the boy had just sworn himself to learning, and showed the same fire his father had those many years ago…His trance was broken as DMaster stared at him quizzically. “What was that?†“I asked where you think we can find tranport off-section?†Repliku closed his eyes a moment, his memory bringing up a mental map of the surrounding spaceports. Only one would be able to grant them voyage they required under the assumed Trooper checkpoints being constructed outside of every spaceport…except perhaps one. “Amber’s Cookie Castle. You will never find a more wretched hive of spam and cookies.â€
Can we name one Assturd?
The Double Bust
lol Baby Mickey Mouse I see there.
mmmm pancakes.
You ever have your windows covered in maxipads? Eggs can be washed off.
Agreed, i've had my share of idiots prank my car and not one of them will ever do it again.
The first Symphonia has been the only game that i've been able to play through and beat over the course of 5 years. I enjoyed the story and the ability to use different scenarios to either be seen in a good or bad light by your team mates.
My high school had 3 parking lots: The back parking lot by the football field where you found all the Hummers, Audi's, Jetta's etc. You have the pit, which was on the other side of the field below the Institute and auditorium where you found the junkers. Above the pit was the Institute parking where all the good lil' Mormons parked to avoid the rush hour of the back parking lot and only steps from seminary. the senior prank that I was not apart of because I was prepping for our Madrigal Final Concert with the presidency, consisted of an unknown number of individuals who went around to each car in the back parking lot, wrapped the cars in syran-wrap, changed the lock on the gates, then returned into the school where they triggered the fire alarm. Needless to say from what I heard from friends who were there, everyone of the rich kids went on a rampage across the school.
Random question: Do you still make sigs/avatars?
Does this mean i'm still secretly a plant?
To days of lolface, playing troll, making flame wars out of nothing. The need to derep to communicate, to going against the grain, going insane...going....FFFFFFFUUUUUUU
I'm a senior in college, not graduating till next year though. Anyway, congratulations to all those who are graduating this year.
I have pled Hotel Dusk and if you end up enjoying it, I recommend Trace Memory for the DS as well. I loved both of these games because they play out like a book, given the need to tilt the DS as though you are reading.
