Previously: http://4-ch.net/dqn/kareha.pl/1310158763/
Let the fun times continue!
Prologue: The Death of
restaurant where Tharsh, Grandpa, and The General were arguing about which thread they were in. The pastel-colored talking cartoon ponies were beginning to look bored, and the drugs had run out some time ago.
"We can't stop here!" shouted Grandpa. "This is bat country!"
"No, it's rabbit country," said Beady Eyes, who had been hiding under a table all this time.
"It's duck season," said Tharsh.
"your silly," said the General.
"Your silly WHAT?" said the ponies.
"I need a drink," said the butler.
And then they all engaged in
a rousing game of Spin the Pickle, that quickly devolved into
a boring game of Spin the Pickle.
Speaking of which, who should burst in at that moment but
the Minute Earth Shota
, armed with a
treaty on gentrification and a
rather overripe banana. He thrust his banana into
the mouth of some sperg ranting about quotation marks to shut him up.
Every single guest attending the tea party
had a severe case of irritable bowel syndrome.
To relieve it, Pepto-Bismol was handed out.
However, every bottle had expired in the year
before it was issued, which did nothing at all to help everyone's explosive diarrhea.
Fortunately, everybody was too strung out on cocaine to really care anymore about the thin layer of shit that was beginning to flood the room.
Mr Gray's imaginary friend
had some fresher Pepto-Bismol but he was waiting for more people to demand it, so that he could sell it at a higher price. He was very cunning, as imaginary friends go.
Of course, the Pepto-Bismol itself was also imaginary.
Alas, the entire party descended into a drug fueled scene of chaos,
and they began an attempt to summon Vizier Maximus Schlong from the 69th circle of Hell.
But Vizier Maximus Schlong was not available at the moment, so they settled for his little brother Minimus Dingus.
Unfortunately, Minimus Dingus was known for his extreme bouts of rage fueled by jealousy towards his better-appreciated brother.
So instead, his twin sisters suddenly made an appearance.
The two of them sat down at a table and were served a cup of green tea and a tab of LSD each. They displayed delicate ladylike manners, which one wouldn't expect of denizens of the 69th circle of Hell.
The younger of the two sisters - better known as
Scanty, distracted her sister Kneesocks for a moment, then put both tabs of LSD in her sister's tea. Because that's just how demons are.
Meanwhile, outside in the garden, two
lunatics realized the necessity for reconstruction of their lives.
"Helen and I are going right after breakfast to see real estate agents about getting us a tenant, and Helen is going to purchase some cotton stockings. She still persists in sticking to the letter of her oath not to wear silk stockings until Daddy is home and well," said
After that an old Shaolin monk that was walking inside the garden said: follow the trips >>333
But nobody was listening. They were too busy
attempting to disprove the Riemann hypothesis. Unfortunately, they lacked
a thorough understanding of complex analysis and
, therefore, simply drank reckless quantities of tea, defaced playing cards and threw them at each other while shouting things like "Zeta function!", "Critical line!" and "Infinite summation!".
Before long, they made
time travel, which is probably irrelevant but might as well be mentioned anyway. And so,
the freshly-made time travel was eaten by the writing staff, who much appreciated their first meal in over a week.
However, the appreciation rapidly faded into disappointment, and then horror when they realized that eating time travel just makes your present self hungrier while slowly overfeeding and fattening your future self.
That very moment, the Norwegians
suddenly invaded and achieved world domination, as their viking blood demanded of them. This was
a signal that the tea party was about to reach its climax: the grand
. The grand was a ritual in which
10,000 live crocodiles
battled 5,500 tigers in custom-made armor. The immense stadium had been completed. The animals' eyes glistened behind the portcullis gates, ready to be let loose into the stadium to devour one another in an orgy of hungry violence. Outside the crowd was waiting, riled into a frenzy, chanting
"WEE A BOO! WEE A BOO! WEE A BOO!"
. This spectacle was, of course, merely to distract the crowd from the true purpose of the grand: opening
the vault of horrors
and reawakening Thursh from his long, cold sleep.
Thursh, for the purpose of an even more incoherent and cliché plotline, was Tharsh's evil twin brother. Upon his reawakening, Thursh
suggested that now might be a good time to start a new chapter.
To his dismay, the suggestion was ignored.
Back in Oxford IV, a large
pickle
processing facility was being demolished to make way for
a large pickle processing facility completely identical to the first. Needing no shame nor validation, Thursh
ate his brother's toast, then
threw
the crusts at his servant, demanding she "pick them up like the whore she is".
His servant picked up the crusts but did so begrudgingly, as she was the Great Sky Loli, living in hiding as a simple servant after faking her death. The reason she had faked her death and was hiding was
her desire to fake her death and go into hiding. So far it was going pretty well. The crusts
transformed
into
Squeeks! Poop on da head lol!
The End.
Or perhaps a new beginning. A new beginning for the GSL, a chance to redo everything. She pulled Squeeks aside to discuss her plans.
Then suddenly: poof Squeeks vanished into thin air, never to be seen for another 64 weeks - Neptune Standard Time.
＼ちょっwwww弥海砂じゃーん／
said a nearby crowd of
Nico Nico Douga users, just before they collectively turned and ran after a passing stray cat among delighted cries of "ぬこktkr" and "かわゆい〜〜〜".
Suddenly, seemingly random symbols, words and phrases of text began to scroll by in marquees, blinding everyone's possibility to see where and what they were doing. "Who's fucking idea was this?" shouted one angry gentlemen.
"It's whose, not who's!" shouted a man wearing pantyhose. He was then violently disemboweled by
an imaginary
.
The imaginary then lost interest in the scene and wandered off to
Youkai Mountain. Unfortunately, it got caught in a kappa's machines at the foot of the mountain and was never seen or heard from again. The GSL regarded this spectacle with a feeling of indifference. She then turned to Thursh and said
"Hey, isn't that an imaginary coming over towards us?"
However, it was not. It was instead
an irrelevant, which had nothing to do with this story whatsoever.
Just then, a wild complex appeared! Would it be as easily squared away?
"Let's square this baby," said the GSL confidently. She began her Loli Cute Dance, spinning around and frilling her skirt in preparation for Pretty Deluxe Square Beam The World.
Tharsh and Thursh stared in shock. The toe forsaken land of fingers fell quiet. Everybody put down their tea and drugs. Everybody was silent in anticipation. Would this act finally bring back the story into the realm of the real? Would the plot finally start making sense once it was firmly rooted in reality?
"Kyu kyuri kyu kyu puri nya!" the GSL nonsensically babbled, firing the Pretty Deluxe Square Beam The World directly at the complex.
Would it work? Would this mad partially imaginary tea party ever come to a merciful end?
Chapter -7 + 24i: Nope
On the morning of the 6900th of September 1993, a young panda by the name of
Eddie Murphy
awoke to find that his
clothes were all gone, his car stolen (he had his car keys), and a big black penis was drawn on his head in marker.
Most troublingly of all, his
own penis was gone. What mysteries have befallen Eddie Murphy this time?
Meanwhile, in the distant future in the year 1994, Eddie Murphy's penis, time traveler extraordinaire, was attending a meeting of the Intertemporal Association of Time Travelers, of which it was the current President. Eddie Murphy's penis was named
Jock Johnson
and its favorite thing to do while not traveling through time was
ejaculating. Which, honestly, is pretty cool.
He called the meeting to order.
"Gentlemen!" he began, "The time has come for
everything! We're fucking time travelers, ain't we?"
After a rousing cheer from the audience, he continued:
"Now, let's all go back in time and kill
one another, making sure to leave corpses in every single historical location ever featured in a textbook!"
Jock still hadn't quite gotten over that grudge against his seventh-grade history teacher.
The other time travellers were a little uncomfortable with the prospect of mass suicide, so, not wanting to hurt Jock's feelings, they
applauded politely and briefly before quickly turning their attentions to the snack bar.