The RP
WarZone...
Page: 115
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*Moving to the speach stand with a glazed look in his eye the supposed
leader of all the woodlice speaks* People of the Woodlouseian Parliament,
today I have a great news to inform you all! Today, I hand over administration
to the Xanarious! *A sound of uproar is heard throughout the council, the
Liberal Houses (the only ones now attending Parliament) stand and shout
their disaproval at such a violation of Woodlouseian Law* I must insist
that you are calm, the Xanarious are willing to give a gracious gift in
exchange for your cooperation! *Some leaders begin to look more content*
Your lives! *The looks of contentment vanish* Yes, the Xanarious in their
benevolent wisdom have deemed not to make you explode in many icky peices
in exchange for your servitude toward the Xanarious Doctrine! And to show
an example of what CAN happen, I will now demonstrate by blowing myself
up! *For the first time the "King" grins and pushes a button on a control
console in his hand, with a huge bang bits of blue woodlouseian blood fly
everywhere, coating many of the woodlice on the first row of the parliament...
The emblems of the Xanarious suddenly fly down and begin to eclipse the
former Frin-Cae emblems in parliament.*
Chief
Frin-Cae?
- Tuesday,
September 21, 1999 at 13:28:38 (MDT)
Hat, Captain of all smugglers between Real World and Fantasylands
(including every story ever or never told) has, over the years, built up
a massive arse nal of fantastic weapons: From the heads of two small schoolboys
in Alabama, he stole the massive Dreadnaught, big as the Death Star and
50% gun, with the other 50 made up of crew quarters (hidden deep inside
the craft, with viewscreens supplying the bridge with views and info from
outside), reactors and engines, with an onboard Hyperspace Cavern Door
to all the supplies any craft will ever need, all of the squadrons of long-and-short
range fighters an pilots in the MC Aforce, controller of five galaxies,
together with twenty squadrons of Frigates (5 per squadron) and thirty
of Destroyers (ten per squadron) and all the hyperspace weapons and engines
imaginable (anything's possible in your imagination) and the Madness, a
Mind-Enhancer which can make all your most fantastic fantasies real out
of nothing (but only while you continue to imagine them), he's stolen Cardassian,
Corellian, Foundation (Asimov), Rebel, Klingon, Starfleet, Xaxissan (Douglas
Adams), Zirzla (ditto), Dominion, even Imperial ships and now he's ready
to use them. Only trouble is, he forgot to get them all on the same side
of the Fantasy/Realworld border at the same time, and he's terrified of
the Fantasy Customs Oficcials (being fantasy creatures, there's almost
nothing they can't do if they catch you, and a Dreadnaught is a bit difficult
to hide in your pocket). Oh well, just have to stick to magic swords, small
arms and fantasy palaces [solid gold, catch one while the Sultan's away
(they're always Sultan in fantasy, nearly never King), melt it down with
a fantasy goldsmith's help (preferably a giant one) and turn it into trinkets
and ingots, and presto! Instant millions back in RealSpace! These Sultans
never learn]
Captain
Hat <[email protected]>
- Tuesday,
September 21, 1999 at 15:32:47 (MDT)
*Deep in the secret underground base the terrible news is discovered,
alarm sirens scream as woodlice affiliated to the Conservative Houses run
to the evacuation order, they make their way toward shuttles and fly toward
the fleet in orbit, as they make their way toward the fleet the Xanarious
ships open fire...*
Chief
Woodlouse (and Co.) <<---
Cecil, from FF2 (come on people, bring back the tunes!) >
- Tuesday,
September 21, 1999 at 15:47:48 (MDT)
*As the shuttles arrive the ships of the fleet warm up for escape
and the shuttle bays on the front of the ships open giving the impression
of the fleet grinning...* Are the shuttles all in the bays? *An officer
responds "Yes, all that survived the attack..."* Did the.... Lord survive?
*"I'm affraid so sir"* I guess fortune favours the bloody stupid... Okey,
get us out of here! *"Aye Sir!" with that the ships of the fleet zoom off
into the void of QWF Space...*
Field
Marshal Woodlouse
- Tuesday,
September 21, 1999 at 16:00:01 (MDT)
Hat finally figured it out. He had the customs officials secretly
replaced by a team of crack commandos nicked from a war film and got James
Bond to eliminate the ones he couldn't fid by using some (imaginary) influence
at Fantasy MI6. This problem out of the way, a new one arises. How the
heck do you start this thing? he wonders, looking at the massive control
banks inside the Dreadnaught. That's the problem with being stupid, you
take a long time to figure things out. Oh well, in the land of the thick,
the half-witted man is king, as Tom Holt would say (did, in fact, in his
book Wish You Were Here), and a halfwit was certainly what Hat was.
Captain
Hat <[email protected]>
- Tuesday,
September 21, 1999 at 16:09:26 (MDT)
Meanwhile, the Vulcan officers assigned to monitor Terran broadcasts
had something to report...
Scottty
<[email protected]>
- Tuesday,
September 21, 1999 at 16:35:41 (MDT)
*Hey Hat, read the rules before you start posting ludicrously. They
are in the link above.*
Duker
- Tuesday,
September 21, 1999 at 16:57:34 (MDT)
Sorry, Duker, I've read them now. I'll be mor careful next time.
FROM HAT
Cpatain
Hat
- Wednesday,
September 22, 1999 at 16:37:56 (MDT)
Now let the story coninue....
Duker
- Wednesday,
September 22, 1999 at 22:01:47 (MDT)
*Chirp, Chirp*
Cricket
- Thursday,
September 23, 1999 at 13:37:14 (MDT)
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