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Once Upon a Forum...
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ddicerc
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PostPosted: Sat May 07, 2005 8:23 pm GMT    Post subject: Once Upon a Forum... Reply with quote

...there lived a goblin chieftain named Chguck who wanted to be king. He really wanted to be the Grand Exalted Imperial Excellency, but being a goblin he couldn't spell that, so he settled for wanting to be king. (Actually, being a goblin he couldn't spell "king" either-his handwriting was terrible, so it's hard to say exactly what letters he used, but most competent scholars of Trog™ culture in Cyrea believe he spelled it "Knnkg.") So Chguck set about to control all of the lands around his tribe's stomping grounds. (That is not a colloquialism-they really stomped around there, so much so that pretty much nothing more complex than mosses would grow, and that includes the Trogs™.) Just to the north, Chguck knew that a dangerous alliance was being formed between the awesome and terrible Vaghan Wizard Stevik (or, in Chguck's phraseology, "Big nasty magic man with scary beard") and the powerful and deadly Areosan Assailer J'oek (or, as Chguck called him, "Big furry kitty with ice spikes who writes...uh, can't read that"). Chguck decided something had to be done about those two, so he sat down to think.

To be continued...

(DISCLAIMER: Remember, this is being posted in OUR world, not yours!)
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Last edited by ddicerc on Tue May 10, 2005 8:55 pm GMT; edited 2 times in total
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PostPosted: Sat May 07, 2005 8:35 pm GMT    Post subject: Reply with quote

Being continued...


Six months later Chguck got up and stretched. His mind was full of strange thoughts (and for a goblin, almost any thought is strange), and his stomach was empty. He'd eaten all the worms and grubs around the stump he'd been sitting on (along with the occasional stray rat or squirrel), and all that was left was leafy greens and vegetables that no goblin would touch.

His thinking had shown him one thing for sure, and that was that it hurt to think for so long without a break. The second was that he had a rash on his yellow Trog™ butt from the stump moss. That wasn't so bad, but it itched, and all the other goblins made fun of him as he walked through the swamp scratching his lumpy posterior.

He still had no idea what to do about Stevik and J'oek, and that made him sad. So sad in fact, that kicking a kitten didn't even cheer him up. But it did give him an idea...

DISCLAIMER: Posted here, not there. Ice cream, anyone?
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Most people are like Slinkies ...
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but they still bring a smile to your face when you push them down a flight of stairs.


Last edited by Majiken on Tue May 10, 2005 8:46 pm GMT; edited 2 times in total
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PostPosted: Sat May 07, 2005 8:43 pm GMT    Post subject: Reply with quote

"Huh...J'oek just big furry kitty," Chguck grunted to himself. He certainly knew how to take care of kitties-all you had to do was sneak up on them and kick them. However, since J'oek was bigger than any kitty Chguck had ever kicked before, he decided he needed a bigger pair of boots than he had ever worn before. Since Trogs™ weren't much good at making things like boots (or anything else that required a little skill and forethought, for that matter), Chguck decided to visit his "friends" in the nearby Morehl™ village of Kalikak, in the Uruzak foothills. "Pallan and Morrotas know boots," he chuckled happily to himself. (And there are few sounds as strange to the human ear as a goblin chuckling happily to himself.) He set off immediately for Kalikak.

It wasn't until he started his preparations that Chguck remembered...

To be continued...

DISCLAIMER: Come on, look where this thing is posted!
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(Just when you thought it couldn't get any worse...)


Last edited by ddicerc on Tue May 10, 2005 8:56 pm GMT; edited 2 times in total
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PostPosted: Sat May 07, 2005 8:54 pm GMT    Post subject: Reply with quote

...that he didn't like Lava Elves.

They were mean, and they always made Trogs™ fight first in all of their battles. But, they did know boots. He'd been kicked and stomped by Morehl™ boots a few times himself. So he found his treasure bag full of sparkly snail shells and smooth colored stones, and set off at once for Kalikak, three days journey through the swamps.

He say a little song to himself as he walked (and sometimes skipped) along...

"The Torgs go mraching one by one, hurrah! Hurrah! The Torgs go mraching one by one, hurrah! Hurrah!..."

The first night he slept under a big rock in a warm pile of mud and loam (don't ask how he got under there, even I don't know), and awoke realizing that during the night he'd gone sleepwalking again, and was now laying on the floor of a large big forest.

Not just any forest either. He knew where he was and he was scared. The trees were so big, the bushes so thick, and no path was in sight. He had somehow found his way into the dreaded Lostinthe Woods.

To be continued...

DISCLAIMER: Sure, we're begging for trouble, but we know not to stray from our territory. This kind of thing is allowed in here per the Geneva Forum Accord (not unlike the Honda Accord, but bigger with more horsepower).
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PostPosted: Sat May 07, 2005 9:08 pm GMT    Post subject: Reply with quote

Woods, as anyone knows, are no place for a Trog™ to be found, much less a Trog™ chieftain, much less a Trog™ chieftain who just happened to be carrying a stone axe, which he wasn't even really trying to hide, since he had it stuck behind his ear. Truth is, Chguck didn't remember he had the axe-he had stuck it there just before he sat down on the stump to think about what he should do about Stevik and J'oek, and it was still there, somewhat dirty and sticky (Trog™ hairstyling products being what they are), but quite out in the open. Chguck scratched his head, and much to his surprise found his axe there. He decided that discretion was the better part of valor (or, more precisely, he decided "Holding axe make me feel braver"), so he clutched the axe tightly in his left hand.

I suppose Chguck might have found his way out of the Lostinthe Woods sooner or later (for all their intellectual shortcomings, goblins do have a fairly well-developed sense of direction, when they aren't being distracted by crawling edibles or strange sounds they can't figure out, which is pretty much any sound not made specifically by a goblin), except for that strange, chilling feeling that suddenly crept down his spine, which created a strange, warming feeling in his loincloth. Because when Chguck looked around him he saw them.

The Eyes...

To be continued...

DISCLAIMER: This is being posted about as far south as you can go, not up north in the "normal" part of the forum.
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(Just when you thought it couldn't get any worse...)


Last edited by ddicerc on Tue May 10, 2005 8:57 pm GMT; edited 2 times in total
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PostPosted: Sun May 08, 2005 7:58 am GMT    Post subject: Reply with quote

Go ahead, go ahead **stomp, stomp** PLEASE!
**clapping hands**
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PostPosted: Mon May 09, 2005 11:56 am GMT    Post subject: Chapter 2 Reply with quote

The eyes. Lots and lots of eyes. Eyes all around him. Red eyes. Green eyes. Yellow eyes. Blue eyes (those winked at him). Everywhere he looked he saw eyes, eyes and more eyes.

You get what I'm saying? There were a lot of eyes!

All around him, all staring at him. He began to feel very self-conscious. Even more than the time when he asked Mary Lou Trogski to the swamp prom, and she laughed at him in front of the entire tribe because he had on a dirty loincloth and a festering pimple on the end of his nose.

The eyes kept staring. A few of them blinked. The forest had gone very quiet. Now he was getting scared and he had a sudden urge to call Dr. Phil.

"Dis be no good," he muttered. "Me no likes being center of attention." He stood slowly. The eyes followed him. He lifted his axe, brandishing it before him. "Chguck know how to usem dis," he warned. "Don't make me send you south!"

The eyes narrowed and looked mean. They didn't seem to like the axe. Chguck was suddenly sure that showing it off had been the wrong thing to do.

To be continued...

DISCLAIMER: Again, we post down here, not up there. No one can say we're being invasive.
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but they still bring a smile to your face when you push them down a flight of stairs.


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PostPosted: Mon May 09, 2005 12:10 pm GMT    Post subject: Reply with quote

Before he took another step, Chguck found himself hurtling through the air at a rather alarming rate of speed. He was being lifted by the back of his grimy shirt, by something he couldn't quite manage to catch a glimpse of. Now Chguck wasn't afraid of heights-far from it, he was well-known not only in his tribe, but to all the tribes around, as a daredevil of no mean merit when it came to diving from reckless heights into potentially hazardous objects. (Or, as the Trogs™ put it, "Chguck nuts!") While this perhaps has some bearing on Chguck's cognitive abilities by this stage in his life, it is also noteworthy in explaining what happened at that precise moment. Because, while Chguck feared no altitude, he did get violently motion-sick at the least provocation. So, just as whatever-it-was lifted Chguck to the apex of his flight, Chguck hurled (or, as he would put it, "grabwuk"). At the same time, the collar of his shirt ripped, and he found himself now continuing his flight, albeit without the objects that had been scratching his neck. Despite his precarious situation, he admired the downward flight of his production, watching as it splashed harmlessly into a rather large and gnarly oak tree, its putrid coloration in stark contrast with the deep green of the tree's leaves.

A hideous low-pitched cry, something more than a moan but less than a roar, broke the relative silence of the forest. As Chguck started his downward trek, he saw that his grabwuk had hit the tree squarely in its eyes.

EYES??!!

To be continued...

DISCLAIMER: This post should be considered entirely on-topic, since it is being posted in its own topic in our world, not anywhere else.
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Last edited by ddicerc on Tue May 10, 2005 8:58 pm GMT; edited 1 time in total
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PostPosted: Mon May 09, 2005 12:27 pm GMT    Post subject: Reply with quote

The eyes. Lots and lots of eyes. Eyes all around him and... oh heck, we've already done this bit to death. Moving on.

Chguck's experiences with his odd hobby of bungie-less diving may have quelled his fear of falling, but the sudden stop at the end was still daunting sometimes. He closed his eyes and waited to hear himself go splat.

Time passed.

Too much time.

Time enough for a dirty Trog™ to reflect on the meaning of his existence. However, that doesn't take long.

Chguck opened his eyes.

A rather large pair were staring back at him. A nose of bark was inches from his, and he could hear the deep breaths of this forest giant. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed long wooden fingers gripping the tattered remnants of his shirt. He looked back at the huge oakman and tried to put on an innocent expression. "Umm... errrr... Hi!" he said. "Thanks for caughting me."

"We don't like blades in our home, earthrat," it said slowly with a voice that rumbled like low thunder. "In fact, we don't like earthrats. What are you doing here?"

To be continued...

DISCLAIMER: They just don't appreciate our efforts at levity 'up Nawth," so we continue to post our best stuff here in the South.
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Most people are like Slinkies ...
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but they still bring a smile to your face when you push them down a flight of stairs.


Last edited by Majiken on Tue May 10, 2005 8:49 pm GMT; edited 1 time in total
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PostPosted: Mon May 09, 2005 12:38 pm GMT    Post subject: Reply with quote

Chguck thought fast. OK, actually he thought rather slowly, but somewhat more quickly than is usual for a goblin, and given that the oakmen aren't noted for their own quick wits, it was pretty much fast enough for the situation at hand. He shoved his axe back behind his ear (after all, if he couldn't see it then it must be hidden), and said, "Me sleepwalk. Got lost in your woods. Trying to find way to...to...to..." Chguck fumbled a bit, then he remembered, "To Boots!"

The oakman looked thoughtful for a moment. In a deep voice somewhat reminiscent of John Rhys-Davies, he replied, "I have not seen Boots today. But Dora came by a few moments ago, so perhaps you will find him soon."

He placed Chguck back on the ground. "We cannot abide axes or earthrats in our woods." He then plucked Chguck's axe out from behind his ear (registering significant disgust at the glop that stuck to his long wooden fingers) and hurled it away, deeper into the woods, in a direction that Chguck instinctively knew (even if he wasn't really processing the fact completely) he should absolutely, positively NOT follow. He trembled slightly (Chguck was a brave Trog™ warrior, but he knew when he was in over his head, or, as he would put it, "in deep doo-doo"), waiting for what would happen next. He was shocked when the oakman slapped him hard on his still rather tender backside and said, "Run away. Run far away. And never come back."

Chguck complied instantly.

To be continued...

DISCLAIMER: Hey, at least it's all being posted in the same topic this time!
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(Just when you thought it couldn't get any worse...)


Last edited by ddicerc on Tue May 10, 2005 9:00 pm GMT; edited 1 time in total
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PostPosted: Tue May 10, 2005 12:24 pm GMT    Post subject: Chapter 3 Reply with quote

See Chguck. See Chguck run. Chguck run fast. Chguck run like forest gonna stomp him flat.

It's not often you see a Trog™ galloping his way through thick trees and undergrowth, but Chguck managed it, if somewhat clumsily. He leapt over roots only to have them lift up and trip him so that he fell flat on his face, which did nothing to improve his looks. Sometimes he was certain that some of the trees turned to watch him pass, then turned back. His sharp, beady little eyes caught glimpses of wispful figures moving through the forest with him, always just out of sight. Ha passed a small figure in a purple shirt and a backpack who shouted something that sounded like, "Se habla Espanol?" Terrified, he ran faster.

It didn't take long before he got a painful stitch in his side, and his mouth was dry from panting. He stopped to rest by a little stream.

His thirst quenched, he looked around to try and get his bearings. It seems they had fallen out of his pocket, and the little metal balls were spilled everywhere. Some plopped into the stream and vanished. "I losing my bearings!" he cried. Scooping up the few that remained, he started off again.

He entered a clearing and was overjoyed to see smoke rising above the trees in the distance. "Dat be Kalikak, or me a mucky goblin!" Realizing he was a mucky goblin, he reasoned that it had to be Kalikak. "Time for boots!" he sang in his tonedeaf way. He picked up his pace.

Crossing the clearing he pushed his way through some gorseberry bushes (the berries sadly out of season, but the thorns not), scratching himself all over (it did feel good on his rash). Once through the bushes he saw that the smoke came not from the Morehl™ village of Kalikak, but from a strange group of figures gathered around a small fire. He gasped in surprise. So did they.

Then the figures stood up clutching their weapons in furry hands and growled at him. "Dis just not Chguck's day," Chguck said, and raised his hands.

To be continued...

DISCLAIMER: No one can point and say we've posted anywhere we're not supposed too. We can get away with this stuff here.
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Most people are like Slinkies ...
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but they still bring a smile to your face when you push them down a flight of stairs.


Last edited by Majiken on Wed Nov 23, 2011 7:18 am GMT; edited 4 times in total
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PostPosted: Tue May 10, 2005 2:14 pm GMT    Post subject: Reply with quote

The creatures eyed Chguck with a combination of suspicion and disgust, a mix of feelings not likely to bode well for the goblin. Chguck, in a rare moment of clear thought, reached his upraised right hand behind his ear to grab his axe. Unfortunately, he couldn't locate it, his oxygen-deprived state temporarily suppressing the ugly memory of his beautiful weapon being hurled far, far away. So Chguck proceeded to paw through his hair, frantically checking every strand (or at least those strands that could be separated from the others, which was very few, given his normal lack of hygiene exacerbated by his recent exertions) for it.

Fortunately for Chguck, his pantomime of panic had a salutary effect on the trio before him. The striped one started quivering, attempting to stifle the laughter that was trying to overtake him. Seeing this, the gray one let loose a small chuckle of his own. Even the somber-looking bald one started to cackle. Pretty soon all three were in hysterics as Chguck, wondering what was so darn funny, kept flailing away looking for...uh, what was he looking for? He tried, but couldn't remember.

Finally the tall striped one sputtered out, "Hail, cretin of slime and death! You have entered (snicker) the realm of the Ghwereste, the staunch (chuckle) opponents of Lord Death!" He turned away, unable to control his guffaws.

The bald, feathered one seemed to master himself first. "We are members of the Animal Defense League, sworn to uphold the sanctity of our forest and to see to the extermination of the minions of Death wherever they may be found. And it appears that you have saved us the effort of finding you!" He raised his spear to run Chguck through.

The gray one (my, what large eyes he had! and what sharp teeth he had!) put his hand out to stop him. "Nay, brother, we may not slay an injured and unarmed opponent, no matter how vile, how brutal, how treacherous, how repulsive, how offensive. how malodorous, how..."

"Ugh, me prefer spear," said Chguck. And he meant it.

The wolf continued, ignoring Chguck's ill-timed and ill-advised outburst. "Let me introduce our group to you. I am Mani, this (pointing to the tiger) is Mho, and this (indicating the vulture) is Chak. And now, foul minion of Death, give me one good reason we should not slay you instantly and feed your putrid corpse to the agents of decay in the soil beneath us."

To be continued...

DISCLAIMER: This is posted in a world where it is appreciated, not one in which its authors can be punished with eviction.
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Last edited by ddicerc on Tue May 10, 2005 9:01 pm GMT; edited 1 time in total
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PostPosted: Tue May 10, 2005 8:39 pm GMT    Post subject: Reply with quote

Chguck pondered the question. He usually slept with the denizens of decay, so to his Trogish mind this simply meant that they were offering to put him to bed.

"Chguck no sleepy right now," he said, hoping they wouldn't be upset. The stone knives the Feral carried looked very sharp. He dug at his ear, not sure what he was looking for, but rather pleased with the large lump of wax he discovered. He slipped it behind his lobe for safe-keeping.

Mani shook his head and chuckled. "Come, brothers, the Trog™ is no threat, and he interrupts our quest for the Chosen One."

Chguck, who'd seen The Matrix at the Cyrean Film Festival, looked around wildly for Keanu, hoping for an autograph. "Chosen One?" he asked.

Mho nodded. "We quest for the Amazons, who seek their next leader. The Chosen One will guide all of the people of Seshara. Her magic will forever protect the Golden Plains."

Chak slipped his knife back into the scabbard. "You may go, smelly Trog™. Our quest may not be delayed."

Suddenly the forest grew quiet and the far off sound of singing wafted over the treetops. The Feral's ears perked up, and Chguck almost laughed but was distracted when his precious wax lump fell off his lobe.

"The Chosen One!" cried the Ghwereste. "We must find her!" The bounded across the clearing and hopped onto a rather strange wagon that had short black wheels and no ponies. It suddenly belched a puff of steam and lumbered off. Chguck marveled at this new magic, then idly wondered where to go next.

Choosing the direction opposite the lazy Feral, he started off, hoping he was going the right way.

By the time the sun set, he left the woods behind and entered the foothills of the Uruzaks. In the distance he could see the small village of Kalikak.

"Hurray!" he shouted. "I finded Kalikak!" He stood there for several moments, basking in his personal victory, please with himself to no end, and trying to remember what he needed there.

To be continued...

DISCLAIMER: It's not like this is going to get us fired as Moderators or anything. This is pretty tame compared to that little stunt. But it will make changes to the spell checker a regular occurence.
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Most people are like Slinkies ...
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but they still bring a smile to your face when you push them down a flight of stairs.


Last edited by Majiken on Wed May 11, 2005 12:19 pm GMT; edited 2 times in total
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PostPosted: Tue May 10, 2005 8:47 pm GMT    Post subject: Reply with quote

To Whomever Set Up the Story To Automatically Change The Name of Our Hero From C-g-h-u-c-k to StJoek (As If We Don't Know Who That Is): I have the original posts saved in a separate document. I can always post them to my web site, with plenty of additional scenes. Besides, those who have read the story can see through your patently obvious ploy.

Then again, whatever. We're not stopping the story, and we'll find ways to make sure our hero's name gains it's proper renown. Maybe we'll just name him "Chuck" or something like that, and see how that affects all the other posts on the forum...
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PostPosted: Tue May 10, 2005 9:13 pm GMT    Post subject: Reply with quote

DDiceRC wrote:
Then again, whatever. We're not stopping the story, and we'll find ways to make sure our hero's name gains it's proper renown. Maybe we'll just name him "Chuck" or something like that, and see how that affects all the other posts on the forum...



Umm.... yeah!



Really, what else could I add here? Word to the wise out there in Forumland - never rile a Baptist preacher. Laughing
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PostPosted: Tue May 10, 2005 9:34 pm GMT    Post subject: Reply with quote

Hmm... Must be a strange side effect of the spell checker. No wait, I see it now, every time an author changes his flag, a random word gets changed. Yeah that's it, a real dozie of a bug. Good thing I fixed it. Cool
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PostPosted: Wed May 11, 2005 10:01 am GMT    Post subject: Reply with quote

Quote:
No wait, I see it now, every time an author changes his flag, a random word gets changed.


How many different flags are there? Laughing
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PostPosted: Wed May 11, 2005 10:16 am GMT    Post subject: Reply with quote

Will the flags get bronze, silver and golden frames depending on the total of posts?? Cool
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ddicerc
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PostPosted: Wed May 11, 2005 2:27 pm GMT    Post subject: Reply with quote

Chguck trod toward Kalikak. He hadn't realized when he saw the village off in the distance exactly how much distance it was off in. It was well after midnight before he arrived at the village gates, such as they were. They had been closed and bolted for the night, but that had never stopped Chguck before. He wanted to see his friends, Polltan and Morwatease, and he wanted to see them NOW! So he did what any self-respecting Trog™ chieftain would do-he utilized his single most powerful attack against any object that stood in his way.

When the cloud cleared, Chguck walked through the demolished gates, immune to the foul stench that still lingered in the air. (In fact, the stench was actually rather pleasing to Chguck's nose, combining the putrescence of the swamp on a hot, sticky July morning with the body odor of a hell hound after a long afternoon of digging in the muck.) He noticed that a few armed Morehl™ were sleeping inside the gates, their red complexions turning an odd shade of murky brown in the mist. Chguck ignored them, intent on finding his old buddies so he could toss down a brewski or two with them before asking them to do something for him. He hoped the buzz from the ale would remind him just what it was he wanted to ask them to do.

Chguck saw few Morehl™ eyes peeking at him, which was just as well, since he had had enough of eyes for a while. He poked around the village, but it seemed like everyone was asleep, whether in their huts or by the sentry posts. So Chguck settled himself down by a dumpster behind a building that reeked of beer and Rocky Mountain oysters and went to sleep himself.

To be continued...

DISCLAIMER: Hey, if we can't moderate, we can at least annoy the moderator.

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2014-2015 U.S. National Champion
(Just when you thought it couldn't get any worse...)


Last edited by ddicerc on Wed May 11, 2005 4:23 pm GMT; edited 2 times in total
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chuckpint
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PostPosted: Wed May 11, 2005 2:38 pm GMT    Post subject: Reply with quote

Moderator? What moderator? You'll notice that this forum is completely unmoderated (like it could be moderated at all).
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My collection is 21,500 Dragon Dice™, 20,000 Daemon Dice™, and others (too many to count).
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