Previously: http://4-ch.net/dqn/kareha.pl/1310158763/
Let the fun times continue!
Prologue: The Death of
the craving desire in a young girl's heart for ＴＲＵＥ～ＬＯＶＥ and delicious snacks. However, knockoff noino rings did make for a good loofah in a pinch.
Meanwhile, the Grand Master of All Time and Continuity happened to glance at the DQN short novel and immediately
threw up. It should go without saying that he was
the ashamed owner of a big fat
poodle, whose tendency to howl showtunes in three-part harmony whenever he spotted an exposed buttock often unnerved him.
It was this harmony that triggered the vomiting, for they had spied the exposed buttock of
Mr. Gray, which had escaped its textile confines when
Grammar Dude, the guard of Mr. Gray's prison at the time, got distracted by the use of "which" to refer to a person. Later, Grammar Dude committed suicide by hanging himself off of a dangling participle.
Meanwhile, Mr. Gray attempted to explain the reason why his buttock was exposed.
>"which" was referring to the exposed buttock, which had escaped its textile confines, not Mr. Gray himself
And then the universe exploded.
and then it exploded again.
It exploded a fourth time for no particular reason.
And then it un-exploded, because it wanted a change of pace.
Meanwhile, the rotting corpse of Grammar Dude, having committed suicide due to shame after correcting a mistake that was not truly a mistake, swung silently in the breeze at the end of a rope tied to a participle.
The participle in question was nailed to an awning on the mansion of Thrush, who could not find his humble servant (who was secretly the Great Sky Loli). Thrush's voice echoed through the halls as he called for her:
"Youjo! Youjo! Tsurupeta youjo!"
That was not Thrush's voice. It was the
Nico Nico Douga video he had loaded in the background.
Meanwhile, in a remarkably similar mansion just down the street, Tharsh and his evil twin brother Thursh (who were, of course, completely unrelated to Thrush) were plotting
an evil plot.
This evil plot consisted mostly of "like putting a like dragon dildo in that asshole's fridge" and "biotronic mechrofuusion of persons with commonly mixed-up names" for the purpose of "ＳＨＥＮＡＮＩＧＡＮＳ."
Inevitably,
all good intentions
were feigned;
the plot went into action immediately and the results were horrible.
The two brothers broke into Thrush's mansion with a large draconian phallus and their mechrofuusion device in tow. They placed the plastic dragon dong in the fridge and attempted to abscond. However, their mechrofuusion device was switched on during the escape attempt and Thursh and Thrush were drawn into it.
15 minutes later, Thrursh emerged from the machine. The GSL watched from behind the bread crust receptacle and instantly decided
that her dress was not frilly enough and didn't have enough ribbons. Tharsh, meanwhile, was on
the midnight train going anywhere, and also PCP.
Everyone else on the train was
A sudden gust of wind swept through the carriage, and the lights went out! From the shadows, a
DQN
began his announcement: "Due to culinary restrictions, this train is no longer heading to anywhere. We have changed to a direct course to the Bamako Salt Mines. We apologize for any convenience."
The programmers all began to
wail uncontrollably -
how could the train not be heading to anywhere and be on a direct course to the Bamako Salt Mines‽
"Parse error!" shouted one. "Invalid syntax!" cried another. On the floor next to him, a programmer in the foetal position was rocking back and forth and mumbling "This DQN has performed an illegal operation and must be shut down" over and over again.
Then, just as
the train was about to crash, the entire scene froze.
With a frustrated 'pomf', the Great Sky Loli sat back in her strawberry-pink chair and frowned. She massaged her forehead, then after a moment and heavy sigh leaned forward again. Her Virtual Universe Machine's pause feature was admittedly quite useful, but its debugger was frustrating and archaic. She knew it would take at least 5 cups of peppermint tea before she could knock the kinks out of this one.
The
Chaos Dunk
of Doom
, better known as
Deborah,
was universally recognised as the worst
blitzball player in Besaid. However, this was not important. What was important was that the GSL hated blitzball and this whole Chaos Dunk business was really getting in the way of her fixing the universe so that she could go back to living in hiding as a simple maid. With a few quick keystrokes, she resetted the entire thing.
Chapter 5. The Dreaded Penis Flytrap
"Sweetness and light" she said to herself, replaying in her mind a conversation she'd had with
the screaming tentacle monster from the twelfth plane of torment. All things considered, the GSL
was quite traveled. She had tasted more sugary tentacles than the average young girl. She had heard more emotional screams than the typical heroine. Soft ideas flitted through her dainty head. Though a deity by profession and technician by action, she was an artist at heart.
She craved creative release. Taking a break from the business of the universe, she opened a word processor and began to type:
The Dreaded Penis Flytrap
by the GSL
Sweetness and light
a DQN with an attitude. The DQN woke up with a start and asked
"is there truly any freedom from the systems of control?" He prepared the heroin deftly.
"Prepare! Prepare! Prepare!"
screamed the screaming tentacle monster's tentacles.
Suddenly, the DQN's
internal organs
threw it on the ground, because you can never trust the system. This includes one's own cardiovascular and nervous systems.
And thus, the entire length of the DQN's blood vessels scuttled off down a dark nearby alley, cackling nefariously.
Meanwhile, on Holy Terra, the God Emperor of Man slowly began to shift on his Golden Throne...
he had waited 10,000 years for his 500 GET and he was damned well going to enjoy it. Little did he know,
and his 500 GET was stolen from him, just like that.
--------------------------
The GSL stopped typing. These were not her words. This was not her keyboard. She wasn't even sure if these were her own hands.
She looked at the hands in front of her and traced the arms back to the body they were attached to. It was the Great Sky Shota, attempting to write his mindless drivel and publish it as the GSL's in order to
get on her nerves and thus disguise his budding crush for the young lady. Yes, the GSS had been quite tsundere for the GSL ever since
oregano. As the GSL turned to glare at the GSS, he shouted out,
"I-it's not like I wrote this for y-you, y-you
tin foil wrapping. After which he began to vigorously
whisk some eggs in preparation for
his ability to
time the flip. You only got one chance, and it had to be perfect. According to his calculations,
2 + 2 did actually equal 5. Mathematicians everywhere proceeded to
tell him why he's an idiot.
Miraculously,
he managed to time the flip perfectly, despite the mathematicians' constant beration. The GSL watched in amazement as the eggy mass arced lithely and gracefully through the air, like a
wet grey sock limping through fields of wart-covered toads in the pungent springtime. At that moment,
Instead, he embarrassingly landed face first in the GSL's
knee. He lost several teeth and
his cool.
"Thbfhat's it!" he blubbered, blood spewing from his frothing jaw. "Thfime to bweak out my secwet weapon:
a Calphalon waffle iron. He got it as a gift from his recently deceased
skin cell, Jack. Oh Jack, you will be missed..."
"Why are you referring to yourself in the third person?" demanded the GSL. The omelette was still falling. So was
the very soul of the GSS. This was it, it was all lost. He watched slowly as the omelette went closer and closer to the ground. But suddenly, out of nowhere...
"Goscone, my hog!" exclaimed the GSS. "All is saved!" He tossed the Calphalon waffle iron. It spun and comically bounced off the mathematicians, the GSL and everybody else in the vicinity before swooshing back into the Shota's hand like a genocidal boomerang. He scooped up Goscone under his arm and left the crime scene hastily.
The first one to wake up was
the God Emperor. And, boy, was he pissed about missing his 500 GET after waiting 10,000 years for it. He called all of his soldiers together and said
"Fuck it, we goin' to jail!"
They then proceeded to fuck shit up. While shit was being upfucked, the Great Sky Shota and his trusty hog Goscone were busy
to leave and never come back. I don't want to see your disgusting face anymore."
in another thread:
(・∀・) words words words
But then,
( ´ω`) words words words
B^U
"No, you fool!" exclaimed yet another mathematician, "Don't you know any set theory at all‽ Surely it's obvious that you can't take anything to the power of a union!"
The mathematicians were becoming more and more troublesome. It
was time for them to disappear. The GSL snapped her fingers at them while winking and with an Akari~n, they were gone.
However, not even the GSL could violate the law of conservation of mass, though it certainly could violate her. In place of the vanished mathematicians, an equal amount of mass appeared in the hideous form of
legs and invited the GSS in.
Francis Bacon also happened to be inside the crow's ass.
"Shove over, Francis," shouted the Great Sky Loli, "It's my turn to pilot this thing." She pushed Francis out of the way and sat down in the AssPilot seat.
'I DID NOT INVITE YOU I INVITED THE GSS' boomed the silver crow's internal voice.
"Whatever, my brother's too busy playing with his beloved razorback hog Goscone. N-not like I care about that b-baka brother of mine!"
Cheeks blushing a deep red, the ever-tsundere Great Sky Loli seized control of the Silver Crow and flew off into the sky, setting a direct course to
the past - or was it the future? At any rate, she intended to go back to about 150 posts ago and claim the 400 GET.
Her plan got off to a rocky start when
when she forgot to bring Rocky IV to play on her portable DVD player during the long ride.
Francis tried in vain to
masturbate furiously to works of classical art, but
the GSL had banned lewdness on the flight.
"Please keep your arms inside the vehicle and out of your pants at all times," said the moe deity.
Yet despite the lack of Rocky IV, the Silver Crow arrived soon enough, without incident, at >>391. (Somewhat miraculously, given the amount of twists so far.)
The GSL surveyed the situation. Appropriately, it seemed she was at a meeting for the Intertemporal Association of Time Travelers. She quickly tried to blend in the crowd, quietly poised to nab the 400 get in 9 posts.
The moment his semen touched the floor a low rumbling could be heard for meters. The meeting room had gained sentience. He said in his loud booming voice "Thank you for giving me life, now I will