| Doc Devious Attention scum! Sounds like my kind of game. I can call people names whilst hiding in cloakers. And I don't even have to fight to win. Yeah! Do Borg get negative modifiers on wit? Is irony allowed or are there Americans playing? |
| ThePyro Experimentation? This game could only by the brainchild of a rather sadistic psychologist. I can only imagine what you hope to accomplish by measuring how many of Mattrixx's posts it takes to destroy an otherwise healthy mind... |
| Lord Owl <clip> a report dialogue ... Cylon Heaven continues to shake off all our efforts. Granted, they are halfhearted, but even so the base should haven fallen long ago. Astonishing, these producers. Captain Bloodaxe is reported to throw everything at us that can wield either a blaster, camera or spoon. One of our blockading ships was rammed by a steam-propelled bathtub recently. I tell you, it’s hell over there. Scans of Bourneville show nothing new to report... |
| Doc Devious The custard curdles The silvery robot with a gold sheen on it looked around furtively. No one was watching. Tapping a command into a keyboard, a secret hatch popped open (OK - it pulled the cardboard fascia aside and stepped behind the scenery). Stepping into the shrine, C3PO stopped dead. Where was his Precious? But all that could be found was a small dropping, smelling faintly of rodents. The shriek brought guards running but all were afraid to go in, remembering how the last such utterance had been due to The Gullible One experimenting with an inflatable automated Pleasure Sheep and the subsequent disassembly of all witnesses. Finally one braver, or less wary, entered to stem the wailing and gnashing of gears. C3PO turned to him. His optics glittered as if he'd been jacking into Vaggen snuff immersion-videos. "GET... ME... THE... VERMIN... AMBASSADOR!" he spat out. The guard squeaked and rolled out. Shortly thereafter a mangy looking triplet was dragged into his presence. (High caste Vermin consist of triplets whose tails have wound together.) A short, messy exchange of views followed. Unfortunately the Ambassador refused to see reason. So Bender found another use for him, for a while. And that, dear reader, is the explanation behind the cryptic message you may have intercepted: "Send another rodent. This one's burst." |
| Sparrow Another old Rhodenian saying: You don't have to run faster than the bear behind you, only faster than the friend beside you! |
| Doc Devious Mutu, make yourself useful. Here's my order: 1 Sag Bhaji 1 Mushroom Bhaji 1 Chana Mossala 1 Chicken Tikka Biriani 1 Chicken Tikka Mossala [the English national dish] 1 Pilau Rice oh, and throw in a Nan Bread too. Anyone else got any orders for him? |
| Captain Bloodaxe (in a discussion about computer translation to German) Re: Don't worry, it's easy to translate. 1) Verbs all to the end put. 2) Verylongcompoundnouns use. 3) When "the" found select randomly from { der, die, das } Now the one-by-one words by dictionary substitute. If the result bad is, machine translation between French(say) and German repeatedly use. Note that English and German in some sense[1] are both dialects of Fresian[2]. Mutual comprehension is increased when both speakers do not concentrate so much on national syntax. So good results are obtained after 3 or 4 beers. Repeated experiment proves this fact. [1] In a made-up untrue sense. [2] Some islands in the North Sea just a boat trip from Germany or eastern England. |
| Doc Devious Re: Pens gents, Pens, we are crossing PENS here The Penis mightier than the Sword |
| Doc Devious T38 traffic mayhem chaos Emergency services have been overloaded in the RTT region following multiple pile ups along the approach roads to Head office. The huge series of collisions began when captain Tina Braithwaite, piloting the Great Pyramid "Iron Mountain", got stuck in 9th gear and careered round the region, leaving a trail of crumpled carnage. The mangled wreckage, barely recognisable as former Lokis, Saurians and even a T Rex, is still being hauled away, but traffic police say the routes should be open soon to anyone who cares to try the approach again. Capt. Braithwaite, who is not licensed to drive heavy goods vehicles, is understood to have told police that she remembers seeing some shiny things on the wrong side of the road while applying makeup in the rear view mirror, shortly before a series of grinding noises, which she assumed were the "familiar sound of gears and things". Drivers are reminded that in RTT space, we drive on the *left*. |
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Lord Owl Re: T38 traffic mayhem chaos Communications, please put me Captain Van der Graacht on the screen. Yes, Mylord Vice Grandvizier! *shhhh* *scrmble* *eeeeek* Van der Graacht here! This is a bad time – we are engaged in battle. Call again later! Captain, this the Vice Grandvizier speaking. Oh. Ah. Sorry. Of course I will make the time. It’s not too urgent here anyway. Hum. Hm. Captain, we seem to have lost contact here at headquarters with parts of the fleet in the general area of Legoreloth. Can you tell me what happened? It was terrible, M’lord. First it looked like a harmless asteroid, just that there was some weird pyramidic ship nearby. IMT design. Then, with a crunching noise of misfiring tachyon cylinders and strained warp core creaking, the whole thing suddenly reversed course. The last SOS call from Captain Uupdike sounds terrible… the poor guys had no chance… just like Yelinnon (shudder)… of course my ship was too far away to do anything… I tell you, this Braithwaite woman is the devil… I remember that you had orders to intercept the Tame Cat, an IMT owned Cats Paw. What are you doing now? Are you in battle with the VOF? Er, hm-hm, not exactly. Actually, we are still engaging the Tame Cat. For the third time, that is. Captain! You are commanding a state of the art, undamaged T-Rex. The Tame Cat is a Cats Paw. Are you telling me you aren’t able to destroy it?! Well, er, it looks somewhat dangerous from here. Nifty little bastard. I don’t want to underestimate it… Captain Van der Graacht. Please put me through to your First Lieutenant. As for yourself, you are relieved from duty. Please enter a transit pod back to Norem – consider yourself booked for royal dinner. Honestly! The kind of officers I am forced to deal with in the military nowadays. Indeed, the end is nigh, or it better ought to be… |
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| Adm. Tronthor re: Banter ratings Editorial note: This is the "THE ADDRESS" Good evening Gents, I should like very much to begin this evening's diatribe by pointing out that the previous boorish sot failed to place himself within his own rankings. His opinions of his feline companion aside, I do tip my hat in gratitude for the undeserved recognition which he grants upon my humble self. None of this has any particular bearing on the question at hand hawever, and so I shall ignore it. Let us examine banter for just a moment shall we? The objections of the gentleman from RTT with the attention span of a Corellian Fire Newt during the mating rush decidedly not withstanding, I present the word here for you all to be well versed in your decision making process. Banter, as taken, is a thing which is most ephemeral - it is a form of conversation between two or more parties. Banter is an item of no substance, which lasts only as long as is required to preceive it, and then is no longer as it was in its original form. Once experienced, banter remains only in the twisted form that we understood it at the time of understanding. However, gentlemen - and I use the term most losely as several of us are not strictly men in any form, those of you who fall into this category will excuse me for assigining you the particular quality of being bipedal, and of resembeling myself in any way - banter has been given a precice meaning: Good-humored, playful conversation EDITORIAL NOTE: not asleep yet? click here for the rest of the "full monty" of this speech! - get a good shot of caffeine first? perhaps? ... Lastly, as I am sure that none of you have failed to notice that I myself am up to now guilty of the same offense as the RTT ambassador has been so rightly accused. Thus to prevent purjuring myself, I will state for the record that the committee have all recused themsevles in this decision sighting various connections and associations which would cause a bias and leaves the decision to me alone. Thus I proclaim that I would place myself in a spcial ranking all alone. I would not begin to suggest that I rank equally with the stated masters here, nor down with the middling few. I would therefore place myself between the top and the middle. And with these words, I now relenquish the podium to the ambassador from....I have it here someplace..... shuffeling papers and note cards and muttering unintelligably Adminstrator Tronthor steps down from the diaz and moves off stage. There is a stunned silence in the room for a moment or two before a ritous clamor errupts from the audience. Over this is heard a growing chant caling for the RTT ambassador to step outside for some cheese, this on the voices of a multitude too numerous to be properly counted. ******* I am sorry to those of you who must use translators. In particular to Ralph, I am sure that you would enjoy this if you could get the full meaning. If there are particular portions that are lost completely, let me know and I will try to change the words but keep the meaning. Again, I have the highest respect to you as I would have a lot of difficulty dealing with all of these words if they were in German. I am sorry that I cannot write them in German to begin with |
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Doc Devious Re: ranter batings ...some time later, as the cleaners are sweeping the piles of rodent droppings, cheese rinds, crystalline slivers, scales, crushed beer cans and nanites out of the auditorium, they came across the stunned and supine form of the RTT delegate under a heap of empty crisp wrappers and popcorn containers, eyes glazed, mumbling "...will he never end..." Later, recovering in hospital, he was heard to remark that he had had a nasty flashback to interminable assembly speeches by his headmaster at school. |
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| Doc Devious Industrial accident at Ceti Alpha I When am I going to destroy some of your stuff? Well apparently it is not too difficult. I see that a ship I forget about last turn, a tiny wee Gotham, has wiped out bases belonging to you and Skies right in the middle of your protective minefields this turn, despite the Wings there. I was puzzled by how such a crap ship could do this, until I sent in the company Health + Safety officer to assess the situation and see if we were liable for damages. However, it turns out the fault is all yours. Once again you've been issuing your staff (Security blokes in red, med staff etc) with those tight fitting lycra uniforms so Captain Kirk can drool over Nurse Chapel etc. All the frantic rubbing of these man made fabrics built up an enormous static charge on the planet which was grounded when my ship arrived. The resultant lightning bolt left a boiling hole of lava where the bases used to be. Conclusions: 1. No liability on SLOTH Industries 2. Goths with pulsed lasers are capable of taking on anything you can throw at them 3. The much-vaunted Fed economy is capable of spending megabucks on pork belly contracts whose products crumple on contact with vacuum hardened real space junk. Here's a nickel, kid. Go buy yourself a real ship. |
| mag You British love messing around with hot oil, dontcha? You call that "Fish and Chips". And please leave your chains and whips at home when you fly your ten little bombers into our pretty new-built stadia. Additionally, please no whining on your way back home when the party is over. |
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Doc Devious I take it that is some kind of football reference? Football - that great British invention (I imgine all nations claim they invented it) - our football association can't even build a stadium. That's why they want to come over and use yours. I usually leave that football stuff to the rough boys. A few years ago, I was forced along to the pub to watch England vs Germany. Imagine: lots of football fans shouting at the TV and cursing the referee. After a few minutes - inevitably I chose to speak during one of those spooky moments when the pub goes deathly quiet - I was heard to utter: "Which is our side?" [It's the ones in white shirts, apparently.] |
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| Mattrixx So, how's the game going with you all? :) [NT] |
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Shag Sucking big time! Someone shooting Chups my way, no cooler, player 2 'borg still eating my colonist... |
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Mattrixx Well, I hope you at least learned something while playing this game? :) |
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Shag Yep, sure did - don't take over a beginner's game at turn 16 without chking out the rst file. And diffenently, don't play if half your colonist are in pods being shot out into space... |
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| Chainsword Radio... Sir Yes Eric? We're receiving a radio broadcast What does it say? It's music Sir Music? Yes Sir Put it on, let's hear it Yes Sir ***click of radio being turned on*** ***sound of guitars playing in the background*** Hello Devious, my old friend, I've come to talk with you again, Because a vision softly creeping, Left its seeds while I was sleeping, And the vision that was planted in my brain Still remains Within the sound of Crayons. In restless dreams I walked alone Narrow streets of cobblestone, I wait for you to defend your turf, I called for you and attacked your stuff When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light That split the night And touched the sound of Crayons. And in the naked light I saw Ten thousand Colonists, maybe more. Troops marching without speaking, High Guards helping without fighting, People posting songs that voices never share And no one dared Disturb the sound of Crayons. "Fools" said I,"You do not know Birdmen like a cancer grows. Hear my words that I might teach you, Take my arms that I might reach you." But my words like silent raindrops fell, And echoed In the wells of Crayons And the people bowed and prayed To the Crayon god they made. And the sign flashed out its warning, In the words that it was forming. And the signs said, The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls And tenement halls. And whisper'd in the sounds of Crayons. ***sound of guitars playing in the background*** *** click of radio being tirned off*** |