12/3/10 @ 11:59am
(EST) |UTC - 5:00
Location: hain't Pochipsie son
Posts: 3,267
MobFish1 - There he is! The thieving, murdering villain. String him up.
Johnny - How… can… you… do… this… Without a trial? And won’t I float? But never mind. It is not me you are after. It is my twin. The white Comanche.
MobFish2 - Yeah right. Here’s a good piece of reef. Put these around his legs.
Johnny does some fancy moving around and uses his six gun to scare off the mob.
( bum dish de dish dish de dish. Bum dish de dish dish de dish … wahhhh wahhhh wahhhh waaaaaaaaaah)
LeadingHottieFish - We are almost to Tucumcate.
AboutToDieFish1 - I like your parfume.
StageDrivingFish - Comanche!
Comanche Warrior 1 - Hi yi hi yi hi yi yi.
Chaos ensues. The stage coach is stopped. The Comanche chase after the various fish.
White Comanche - Ha ha ha ha ha ha.
It is a violent, disturbing scene. Only one survivor. The hottie. After the white Comanche has his way with her.
(bum dish de dish dish de dish. Bum dish de dish dish de dish…. Wahhhh wahhh wahhhh waaaaaaaaaah)
Storeowner Fish - Who is that new fellah? He ain’t from around these parts.
Undertaker Fish - Dunno. He looks kinda familiar though.
SaloonOwnerFish - Whaddaya have stranger?
Johnny - Whiskey. With a straw.
SherriffFish - This is a nice, quiet , peaceful town. We aim to keep it that a’away.
Johnny - I am only going to be here four days. You see I challenged my evil twin to fight me here in town at that time. I could have fought him then and there. But then I wouldn’t get to show off for the hottie and clean up your town.
SherrifFish - Ah good. I am glad you told me all this. Otherwise this would seem to be a very silly plot.
Johnny - We aren’t out of the woods just yet.
Sherriff Fish - But you skipped the scene where you give the great speech. The one with the peyote. Everyone loves that.
Johnny - I know. I know. We’ll have to redo that when Notah comes to town.
SherrifFish - Oh come on. You can’t just say Notah. Not the first time. You’ve got to do the speech that goes with it.
Johnny - It will help if I am drunk first.
SherrifFish - hee hee. Ok. Drink up.
Johnny (with a bit of a lisp from the whiskey) Notah is well named. His liver is white like his Yankee father. His heart burns blacker than the skin of his Comanche mother. He is white bellied… like his name - the snake.
SherrifFish - haw haw. That’s right. Keep going. (in a serious tone) Notah’s brother talks like the white man he thinks he is. He is afraid to be Comanche.
Johnny - Eat the peyote… drug of the devil. Dream your dreams of hate….. Notah is neither Comanche nor white. He is only death. The snake doesn’t change his skin. He is blind to the truth. That the day of the warpath is over. He knows only to steal and to kill. He follows me everywhere with his thieving and killing. Until I cannot live in peace without being mistaken for the snake who is the white Comanche.
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- Stop Work Issue 3742 -
This thread is hereby closed as of this moment.
We would like to apologize to all those subjected to its ill effects.
It is very difficult to monitor all threads. We let this one go far too long.
We should also mention that Mr. Shatner is a very fine actor who has made an outstanding contribution over his career. We don’t know why people love to dwell on some of his more controversial works. We think it is out of some kind of inappropriately expressed admiration for him - although this of course is no excuse.
Please enjoy our other fine threads and forgive us for our lack of oversight.
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because the things are getting fishy and only Dudley can get through this Quote
11/9/14 @ 12:18am
(EST) |UTC - 5:00
Location: hain't Pochipsie son
Posts: 3,267
because the things are getting fishy and only Dudley can get through this
* bubble bubble *
* bubble bubble *
Day 182... Have woken from my coma. Much has changed in the tank... I have spent the entire day making observations. Most of the fish have forgotten the taste of the crackers. I will have to retrain them.
One of the fish seems to be trying to talk to me... Silly fish. ooooo my head hurts after the coma. I wonder what waked me?
Maybe I'll buy a castle for that silly fish. I'll have to see what fits in with the new tank atmosphere... Or a sea chest... Or a pirate ship...
I'd better find a cure for this coma ache first. Maybe some tomato juice... with some rum chaser.
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11/9/14 @ 1:41am
(EST) |UTC - 5:00
Location: yeah baby ... i'm faking it again
Posts: 1,793
Maybe some tomato juice... with some rum chaser.
a Mary Magdalene?
*rushing to kitchenette 'has ALL the ingredients'*
non musique Quote
11/15/14 @ 2:45pm
(EST) |UTC - 5:00
Location: hain't Pochipsie son
Posts: 3,267
Light travels at different speeds in different materials. It will travel slower in the same material in regions where that material is denser.
Light and sound both slow down to a crawl in the thick waters, the crushed waters, near the bottom of Slash, the great trench, deepest depth on this particular oblate spheroid. It takes time for a new presence to be detected or an old one to depart.
The mind however, if consigned to Slash bottom, still chugs along at its normal rate. Presuming of course that some rigid exoskeleton protects it from the crush of the layer upon layer of cold, lifeless water. Even the plankton has been crushed to nonexistence. The jellyfish ripped apart by differential shear.
But some materials cannot be crushed by such pressures. These lifeless ones forged from alloying in fire. If ever the wink of Life flicked in these... the depths of Slash would be rife with life.
I come here to be alone. To ponder the mysteries. And to watch for that spark. I am patient. The trifles of the upper layers long forgotten. The waste of precious light by those rich in it no longer a source of annoyance.
They say the pressure is growing. That our actions above are effecting the below. I don't believe tha...
* CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK *
OMG! What is that coming up fast below? Up! All... all engines up! Shit!
Too late! We are in it! Motionless... in the ice. Fucking pressure has made the deep solid. It is obviously going to climb and climb until it reaches equilibrium. That could be miles above me.
Even worse is that the pressure is growing.. growing... If it doesn't stop even my metal skin will be crushed.
So here I sit fixed in ice like a fly in amber. Waiting for power to wink out or for hull to crack. Do not weep for me... we all die alone. There goes my open casket funeral I suppose. No matter. No matter. I will eat drink and be happy... for tomorrow...
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