by EmperorJeramyu » Fri Aug 06, 2004 11:22 pm
Yaaaaahhhh!!!! Here we go!!!!
"Season 1 finalé, Part 1: The 404tress!"
The Crestfallen stood assembled at the front of the bus, which approached the massive city and fortress.
“All right. Listen up.” Jeramyu started pacing back and forth nervously. “This is the day we’ve all been waiting for.”
“I thought most of us already got laid!” Someone shouted.
“Uh… then… uh… this is the… Tuesday! This the Tuesday we’ve all been waiting for!”
“Is it Tuesday?” Someone else asked.
“Whatever! Today we enter GamingW!!!” Jeramyu shouted. The crowd shouted hoots and hollers in respond.
“Now here’s the deal… We’re not going in there to attack everyone in sight.” Jeramyu explained calmly. He whipped a wooden pointer around in the air for no particular reason. “This is an information gathering mission. We need to learn the whereabouts of Lun. No using force unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
The Crestfallen moaned in disappointment. Jeramyu accidentally shoved the pointer up his nose. “Since this mission pertains to the safety of Lun, I’m assuming I can trust you all on your own. You can go out alone if you wish, but I suggest you remain in groups. Tele, you stay behind and keep an eye on the bus.”
Jeramyu poked his eye. “Remember, this is GW. The people are strange, unpredictable, paranoid, and dangerous. Be cautious.”
For once, the Crestfallen were in a serious, harmonious union. The bus approached the gate. Jeramyu turned to Iteroth “Do your thing.”
Iteroth poked his head out of the bus window. “Iteroth.” He announced to the security gate.
“APPROVED. PLEASE ENTER. LOL”
The bus rolled into parking. The Crestfallen unloaded.
The structures that arose around the few were no small achievement. Before the corruption, before the insanity, a mighty kingdom once stood. A mighty kingdom that grew… and grew… Into something different, something that was overrun with pestilence… a disease from the mainland. For the RPGMaking community was but a small island in the archipelago of the Internet.
However, the irony of life spares no island. The prosperous become the corrupt, and the meek shall always remain as such. The brave push on, always going forward, never looking back. Whether the courageous Crestfallen knew this or not was up in the air, but one thing was for sure: they weren’t looking back.
The badass five walked together, sporting fine leather trench coats, and slicksexy shades. An awesome badass guitar lick played in the background. It was ended with one of those record scratchy sound effects. A very hyperactive looking boy ran up to the distinguished five.
“lol noobs.” The boy spat.
“Just don’t say anything…” Jeramyu whispered. “Keep walking…”
“You have a small penis.” Exiled said.
“omg wtf lol u suk bals and blow dick.” The stranger responded, vibrating up and down like Excell on sugar.
“Screw off.” Porter said in an annoyed tone, subsequently tripping over a garbage can full of diapers.
“omg!!! U suck asswipe im gunna kick ur ass u little shit.” The boy exclaimed, raising his fists stupidly. Just as the oddball was about to attack, he miraculously froze in midair. The 5 looked around. Nobody was moving. Everything had stopped.
Excell glanced up at one of the many animated billboards. “404. This board cannot be displayed.”
“Looks like GamingW went down.” Jeramyu chuckled, looking around for anything that remotely resembled a chick, trying to spend his time wisely. He stopped to clutch his head. “OH GOD! THE MEMORIES!”
“I hear ya, Jer.” Porter assured, recalling the days in which Crestfallen HQ stemmed off of GW’s power supply. The people unfroze. Fortunately, Iteroth had positioned his foot in front of the illiterate stranger’s crotch.
“Come on.” Jeramyu motioned. “Let’s see if we can get an audience with Bart. He has an ounce of sense, maybe he can help us.”
The 5 conferred, and started off again.
Impossible, War, and Cow made their ways through the crowd. War found his hands involuntarily moving towards the 500 pounds of concealed firearms beneath his coat. Impossible proceeded at more of a trudge, only deriving pleasure from pointing out some of the freaks of GW.
“He didn’t have a fucking nostril!” Impossible shouted.
Cow rolled along, occasionally bumping into someone, an unfortunate curse of being a gigantic spherical cow. But once again, the freaks of GW proved even stranger. The group encountered an unruly mob of arrogant pricks.
“hey losers! Go back to the freakshow!” The apparent leader jeered.
“yeah! You guys sucks! Huhuh!” A groupie followed up.
“you guys are losers!” A third chimed in.
Impossible glanced at the mob disdainfully. “>_> <_< >_<”
War had to bang his wrist against the ground to stop from pulling out an HK MP5. Cow swiveled arbitrarily around on his gut.
“lamers! Get out of GW! Ur not cool e nough!” The leader announced again.
“YOU DIE NOW!!!” War hollered, whipping out the bullet sprayers. In a mafia-esque fashion, War mowed down the entire mob, and stood over the resulting pile of smoke, laughing.
“Ass-wipes.” Impossible said, insulting the corpses. He looked around, and started searching the bodies for money.
“Holy shit. This guy is bleeding green. And his navel is a wormhole to another dimension.” Impossible shouted, jumping back.
“Then perhaps you should leave the corpses to me.” Cow suggested, rolling over to the scene. In a remarkably short period of time, he had consumed the entire pile, leaving no organs behind.
“Pretty. Very pretty. >_<” Impossible remarked.
“What now?” War said, putting away the weapon.
Before they could debilitate any further, a trap door opened up below them. The crime scene was cleared.
That left Bill, Glenn, and Strayed’s ghost. A slightly-less than capable combo, that was successfully still alive after 5 minutes.
“So do we just ask anyone?” Glenn enquired.
I’m sorry, but I just have to write a paragraph about this. EVERY single time I’ve typed ‘Glenn’ out, I’ve initially misspelled it as ‘Gleen’. So just this once, just for this episode, I’m going to refer to him as ‘Gleen’. Thank you.
“Whatever.” Bill remarked smartly.
Gleen walked up to a well-dressed GamingW denizen. “Excuse me, but we’re looking for a missing person. You may have heard of him… Lun Calsari? LunC?”
The stranger gave an easing smile. “No, but I CAN show you screen shots of my new game, ‘Master of the Destiny Saber: The Souls of the Chaos Lords’.”
Gleen stared for a few seconds, and shrugged his soldiers. “Sure, I guess that’s cool.”
The man pulled out several sheets of paper, with nice clean screenshots printed on them. Gleen raised his eyebrows. “Impressive. It looks very nice.”
“Yes, it does. Let’s talk about how good they look.”
“…What?”
“My screenshots! Check out how awesome my CBS, and CMS is! I also custom designed all the graphics, and the plot is completely revolutionary too!”
“… Alright…”
“Isn’t it beautiful?”
“Sure.” Gleen said. He sighed. “So… how’s progress on the game going then?”
The man gave Gleen a strange look. “What?”
“The game.”
“What?”
“…Um… you are making a game, right?”
“How did you get that idea?”
“The, uh, screenshots?”
“OH! Um, yeah! This is going to be the best game ever made by far. It’s going to have full 3D, and a battle system like Final Fantasy 10’s. My dad works at Squaresoft, so I can do stuff like that.”
“I’m leaving now.”
“No!!! Wait!!! Look at my screenshots again!!!”
Gleen walked back to Bill and Strayed. “No good.”
“People here are idiots.” Strayed remarked. “Even more so than back at HQ. I hate them all, and want them to die.”
Gleen sighed again, and looked up nonchalantly. He spotted a man jumping from the roof of a building.
“That’s strange. All of the suicidal people here are pussies, and wouldn’t actually carry anything out.”
Strayed spontaneously burst into evil laughter. Gleen turned to Strayed. “Something tells me, you have something to do with this.”
Strayed nodded with pride. “Ghost powers.”
Bill returned from a vender, gloating to himself. “Finally…” he mumbled. “I have found a way to eliminate my one weakness.” He subsequently burst into laughter too.
“Awkward.” Was the only thing Gleen managed to say, before the group found themselves falling down a trap door.
The badass five approached the gigantic fortress at the center of GW. It was nearly impenetrable. Even ninja masters would have a hard time climbing up the graffiti-ed outer wall. Jeramyu looked up. A gigantic banner streamed across the gates, reading “Hail the administration! Hail the mods! Power is great! SUBDUE THE MASSES!”
Jeramyu shook his head, and climbed with the rest of the five up the stairs to the doors of the fortress. They stepped inside.
“We need to see Bart.” Jeramyu announced.
The exceptionally ugly secretary ignored him, filing her nails.
Porter whispered into Jeramyu’s ear. Jer sighed, and turned to the secretary again.
“We need to see Bart. Hail the administration. Hail the mods. Power is great. Subdue the masses.”
The secretary looked up. “There’s a long wait. 300 years.”
The badass 5 all stammered in unision. They huddled back.
“We can’t wait that long.” Exiled said.
“Yeah, by that time, my feces will have filled up the entire room.” Excell followed up.
“I’ll run out of beer.” Iteroth complained.
“Indeed. We can’t stand for it.” Porter said.
Jeramyu smiled. “I have an idea. Leave it to me.”
“Excuse me, but we can’t wait that long.” Jeramyu said to the secretary.
The she-thing looked up. “Listen, I can’t take any craaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa….”
The badass 5 laughed. GW’s crashing was pretty much reliable. They made their ways forward, to the throne. Atop the mighty chair, sat a small lego man.
“Uh… Hi.” Jeramyu greeted.
“Hello.” Bart responded.
“Sup?”
“Not much.”
Jeramyu stood at a loss for words, managing only nonsensical grunts. He finally spoke. “Lun’s been kidnapped. We don’t know who or what took him, or where they are. We were wondering if you knew anything of him.”
Bart seemed to smile. “Maybe. I know many things.”
Jeramyu shrugged. “Yeah?”
“Hold on. I need to make some more cryptic answers.”
“Go ahead.”
“Uhm… I see many things… and…”
There was an evil twinkle in Bart’s eye. Something unnatural. Something possessing.
A trapdoor opened, and the remaining Crestfallen plummeted.
Strayed’s ghosty glow illuminated the plain room. Jeramyu started. “It looks like everyone’s here…” But before he could continue, the walls started moving in…
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Part 1 folks! I re-read all the other parts, and I think I'm getting my thunder back. I know the last few episodes have sucked, so I'll try and make it up to you with these two! Total, the story is 19 pages. Longest thing I've ever typed. =)
"Unfortunately, the dragon only speaks in Napalm, a curious ancient language that you don't really need to speak to understand."