Neverending Story [Game]

[AGAG]

Thunders! Happy laughter!

Yes, those two things have met in the middle of the sky and intertwined like two flocks of angry birds fighting over crumbles of bread. It was a little battle, the angry godclouds sent little brumbums in form of pointy gray arrows that fell like spit knives.. Instead, many colorful butterflies and ladybugs of happylaughter flew upwards and stopped most of the arrows in the middle of their course. They were beacons and their wings were intermittent shields. This particular situation was blocking most of light-ink that writes the days. So, what would write the freckle and the poet's days now with this untimely interruption? A timeshadow was casted below and it hugged freckle's waist quite strongly. Also, many butterflies started to fell dead on the land around them both. Making a little pile of colors that soon became neck-high. "Had you ever thought" asked freckle, trying to remain afloat "that both of our laughters could manage to do this sort of thing??.. Bläh.. I swallowed a purple one. Too sweet! Too sweet! Bah.." The poet struggled with all the ladybugs in his mouth to articulate an answer "I only laugh innocently!" he stuttered "I never had this chromatic variegated intentions. Butt! Let's look at the bright side. Ha. At least the brumbrumtu-brum won't find us with this camouflage."

They swam to a nearby pine tree and they climbed it. Below, the colorsoup had become more dense. A liquid-rainbow soup that was being stirred by some thunder rain. It was shiny and really beautiful to look at. Freckle and the poet contemplated the rest of the fierce battle hand in hand and close enough to perceive each other's breath paces. The branch was really scarce after all and they almost had to hug to look at the spectacle in a comfortable position. The whole thing lasted for a little childhood and then a gondola appeared in the distance. Who was there? of course, it was moco, ilse and hubble. Ilse and moco were paddling tiresomely with big wing-like pine branches through the sea of dead butterflies. Hubble was sitting in the back of the gondola resting and singing a song about drums and sonatas with a tenor voice. "Isn't this a great day for science?" he said when they reached the tree "To find an explanation for all these colors will be exquisite. Come on my children, hop in. You can make love nests in any tree you want. Right now we all need to eat."

They headed for a very tall hill and there they ate butterfly soup. Moco and Ilse were panting, relieved. "I heard the radio" said Hubble, after taking a sip "The butterflie sea is 21 meters thick in average and it has covered all finland and part of Estonia. This is a great and strange casualitie. No one knows where they came from and all they know is that it originated in some thunderstorm atmosphere. Maybe it is the birth of a new climatological phenomenon.." The poet had an idea "What if we call this 'Poet rain' because it is a tiny bit poetic, I think."

Hubble agreed and...

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

patted the Poet on the head.
"Son, you are probably right. Butterflies and ladybugs, very often represent, just poetic language and you have developed your poetic style conciderably. You can soon go public, and remember who said it first.

"Jaja, it is all very well with his poems", said Moco, "But what to do with all those butterfly-creatures? They are not so lyrical at 21 meters depth. Are we going to sit in trees like apes or flying dogs"?
"But, look, look", said Freckle, "Thousands and thousands of butterfly-eating birds. The heaven is black with them".
"They are Russian Gallingo, Gallingo, and they live on those creeps", said Öhubble. "Apropos creeps I have a letter here for you, Freckle. It is the evaluation of the intervju you did the other day, for your Africa-work. You seem to have really failed. They even say, that you don't need to come back. At all! What did you say"?
" Huh, I just told them, that I am sure I would be kidnapped, raped and killed, my first day in Africa, by those black, (here I used a forbidden word, haha)abusing, retarded bastards and that I hoped they continued to kill each other, so there would be less of them".
"Oh dear, oh dear. That was hardly a way to get a ticket to Africa, but I am really happy that you will stay here. We have enough creeps here now and all that birds start to be really imprudent. Ajaj, those long bills are not nice at all".
"Ajajaj" ,in chorus, from the rest of the tree-climbers. "They are picking, ajaj, they are picking hard. We must jump down in the butterfly-sea before they eat us".

Jump, jump, huh, butterflies under and nasty birds on top.

But suddenly the heaven darkened even more, and a bigbig bird, so bigbig, that noone ever had seen anything like it, was over them. And with a beak, like a giant vacumcleaner, it started to suck and suck and suck.
They had to hold on to the trees, since even the Gallingo Gallingos were sucked into the big open mouth.

"We must...said Öhubble...we must...

[eternity_strato]

DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE -said Talkki.

Talkki killed all of them and proclaimed the new Cheese Republic with Mr. Soup!

Jordan&Gandhi nevertheless sang a beautiful Irish tune called...

[AGAG]

"The song of the rivers" whose tale was of two big rivers that ran side by side in a big channel of shit-vacuum. A vacuum that enclosed shit in various shapes, namely these little rivers. Since the song was Irish, this rivers were made of root beer and liver juices that flowed ferociously over all the other shit that crusted in mountains and caves. One of them had freckles, halting the intricate digestive system of a Celtic Deity that had to use laxatives for these rivers to flow free again in all their might and vicious odour, away from there. Laxatives included a variety of blondepears and blondeleaves. The story always ended happily and there were dances afterwards, but this time the story had a twist. The singers were improvising and they tried to remain faithful to the current events. In ireland there were no more Blondethings any longer, just red. Their Celtic god was in a hurry for the shit to flow again and had to find something else..

Raise all of the glasses and all the pensive moods
It is the time for gorgeous songs who speak of blondes.
Celestial beings of thorn now had become moons.
Pulling away the pensive tides from every room.

Delicate hair tides of the head, be still.
We will listen to the old cracking mill.

Maybe yesterday, we have heard silly whirls of wind
Of two closed lips, they rooted, we all could hear.
"Two rivers come" they whispered and grinned,
"Hide the honeychild and girl, all have much to fear"

Blonde heads, please be still.
Of your water we are all in need.

From where have both rivers come so loud?, they said,
Both: Colorful mockingbird, a powerful battlebreath.
Pinned in the cloud, shadows a clock, invisibly led,
Nothing to pin our wings.. at noon we drown in death.

The wings will fly alone. We all are made of stone.
A forest guardian has danced all night long.
There he comes, at the shore, all alone and with no blonde.
Headthrown, whispers the still chirping of a cold sad song.

Where are the rivers of beer and liver?
Have you swallowed them, restless blondinen?

Both have twirled in the belt of the sun temple
That makes the rain. The lane of the sunbows.
A million souls of butterflies have created a kite that enters
the skies of God, that surrenders. The plain of evenflows.

Halted has the frame, it is raining drops of gold,
As if you had the right to run, don't sweat in vain.
All of you will have to drown, in the buses, in the vans.
The golden river will find your sky and sparkle your land.

Come with us, blonde, we are not dead.
Your hair looks gorgeous in that particular head.

There ravages the wind through all the paths, they say
Through furs green lamb, for god, Sucellus desires a bath
A taciturn ruler of trees, of diarrhea has now has fell pray
The beautiful seed of the mind of the man, now desires a bath.

Hubble wasn't dead and he laughed after the singing had finished: "Haha. Now, isn't that some pompous shit? JordanGandhi, you're worst than the poet. But I really miss him.. I wonder where he is now. Oh, and my daughter of course. Haha. Let's not forget her. Let's go into my cottage and make pills to revive them. Maybe I will have to use potions. They are like cats, with many lives. They must be in hell right now because they weren't pious enough. Better save them from the red hot trident..." So he went and made some potions and pills. He used science in the death bodies and the breath of life came into them through their noses.. They gasped and didn't seem very pleased when they found the same old reality they were accustomed to. "But butt!" Said Freckle, a bit mad "We were having so much fun! I met Getz and he said hi. He was with many blondes and he played every night on the 5th circle club, next to all the starving niggers. And that was so fun because I hate niggers. Specially when they are black and they ask for rice outside the restaurants.. oh, and and.. I also saw the following person there, having lots of fun in the 8th circle:..

[Ilsekena]

..when suddenly the aliens arrived!!

[eternity_strato]

in the form a giant Soup!

Mr. Soup army had arrived!!!

[DDDDDDDD]

and i drank the soup then took a piss and down the toilet it went

[Derrick Rose]

And then through the toilet and out onto BBBBBBBBB cock and then...

[BBBBBBBBB]

i shit it out into derricks face and then

[Ilsekena]

you all died. Once again! nänänä

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

"Jaja, some want to see death everywhere and they are of course right. Death is everywhere, from the day we are born, to the day we just die", said the a bit philosophical Öhubble, "Butt, butt, to kill everyone in every post, doesn't bring this story any further and I am rather tired of using my exclusive, relieving pills and spray, ass soon ass I come in here. Butt, sigh, sigh, here we go again".

And with that he sprayed some fluid on all that were gathered in the house. They blinked and kicked a little before they were totally awake.
"Haha", said the poet, "I was in the tunnel and saw the light and I didn't want to go back. You were with me Freckle and we hold hands. Where you there or was it a dream"?
" Ja, I was there, with you, and my grand-grandfather met us".
"Ja he was with my grand-grandmother and they hold hands. Wasn't that strange? But I had a feeling, that we should go back, and we did. Hi everyone"!

"Hi,hi, said Öhubble, " You are so welcome, butt we have a problem. It is an Eternity Something, that tries to kill us and we must ask him why he have those wishes and what his reasons are. His thoughts are contagious for other forumers, in other threads and we ought to stop him".
"Couldn't we try to help him and make him want people to live instead", asked Freckle.

"Would it help if I wrote him a poem, or is he not amenable for poetry", said the Poet.

Bom Kabom the door flew open, and there he was, mr Eternal himself. And behind him were C9, B8, D8 Ilsekena and Arnold Layne.
"Huh, you are a bunch of tough-to-kill-idiots! Damn! This time i will...
But he was outvoted by the others, that repeated one word. "Death, death, death....

[eternity_strato]

And then it came. The battle of all ages. The war of all times. The ultimate fight.

Arnold Layne on one side, and on the other: Mr. Soup, Black Mermelade, Talkki, Telkki, Tilkki, Tolkki, Tulkki, Jans, Jens, Jins, Jons, Juns, Jordan&Gandhi, Hitler, Ted Mosby, Miss K, Lassila, Jorg, deaf blind Miss Mosby, Albino Timo, Behm, Mr. Duck, Matus, Mr. Choc, Vulcan Raven, Massolini, Pepitus, the-wisely-named-drummer-of-last- christmas-i-gave-you-my-heart and Telkka.

Arnold Layne suffered for all eternity in an ocean of pain and shame. He tried to commit suicide but he wasn't able to. For the rest of time he cried and suffered. And brilliant strings and brasses celebrated it.

Our characters path had come to an end, and so the neverending story with the great grand bombastic finale.

From now on, it is a completely new revamped story, since we couldn't get anywhere further.

You write the future, my sons.

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

And see! Öhubble turned his spray-jar to a DEATH-JAR and Boom Kaboom...
Jaja, here I am so sorry, I must tell you, that all the bunch of idiots, you mentioned, fell dead down to hell, like flies when they are sprayed with something worse than DDT.

By by to them and may they rest in peace...

[eternity_strato]

If you treat them like that, maybe they are resurrecting asap.

[Ilsekena]

'Butt, butt, I don't want this story ending! - said Ilse. She was so surprised by this turn of events, that her hair became even more white than before.
'No one is going to die from now! ..Its not the end, its new beginning!
And she started to sing beautifully:
I saw the sunrise on the hill
and once I remembered how it felt
to feel warm and safe inside
it was like walking for the first time
in a long time and my mind
the seasons changed and cold winter died, bye bye!
Our world is brighter
Our view much wider
New beginning.
First breath of air
We're so aware of
New beginning.
I'm thankful for the chance to live again
I've turned the page, a change came with the wind
it's not the neverending end, it's a new beginning.
After the rain washed my soul
and turned a bitterness to innocence i knew
the path was open to move on
allow me to offer you my hand.
Let me introduce myself again
the girl i used to be is gone..
Got a new state of mind
We left that other world behind
its been a long hard fight.
butt on this mountain top is
where you'll find us..
its not the end
its new beginning...

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

Great Ilsekena!
Of course ! We are going on ass before! Noone, not even an eternity_strato can stop us. Kill? Death? PFFFFFFFFFFFF

[Derrick Rose]

Why is there so much death in this story? It is making me sad.

[Ilsekena]

No no no, there will be no more death
there will be no pain
and all the bad happenings have vanished in rain.

[eternity_strato]

At least I can retain ownership over my created characters and introduce them in new stories, right?

No dying, I promise.

[adrian9]

At least I can retain ownership over my created characters and introduce them in new stories, right?

No dying, I promise.

In this "rebooted" reality (kind of Matrix Revolutions thing)
Adrian9 is back on Venezuela watching "triunfo del amor" his favorite soup opera from mexico. when out of the blue somebody knocks the door...

[Ilsekena]

In the meantime somewhere on the other side of the Earth, far far away from Venezuela, Ilse was on a way from Stockholm to Tallinn, as suddenly out of the blue somebody knocked at her cabindoor...

[Derrick Rose]

During this in the Philippines, Derrick was shooting baskets in the gym to prepare for the next year of basketball, when out of the blue there is a knock at the door.....

[mocobhc]

... it was Adrian9 accompanied by Ilse and an old, weathered woman. The old lady was wearing an old skirt and a shawl, both made out of a dirty-brown old cloth with a pattern noone would want to take the risk to take a second look at without constantly damaging the eyes.

“Somehow I expected you to have a b - hm, another taste in women...” Derrick said to Adrian9 instead of a welcome.
“Shhhh,” he muttered nervously, “beware of your words! She’s a real witch, I tell you!”
“Now stop that gossiping all of you” it came croaking from the old lady, “we have work to do and I did certainly not fly all the long way to the Philippines via Europe with these youngsters in my back just for fun. Although it was nice to feel some fresh flesh and blood beneath me again...”

Adrian9 and Ilse both looked quite disgusted, and Adrian9 hurriedly turned the subject into their reasons for flying over to Derrick.
“Mme. Xima knocked at my door and told me that something terrible is going to happen, and that we three are the only ones to prevent that by coming up with as much stories as we can! Otherwise all our friends –“
“The cards showed me that your friends are gathered up in a part of the neverending where they have to fear of getting lost forever... if you don’t help them, they will slowly turn into mere fantasy themselves and vanish from reality. So you better hurry up and help them! I want to return to Venezuela as soon as possible (I hope the broomstick survived the passengers' additional weight). I hate Europe and all its pale-skinned, presumptuos puppets as much as the North-American ones. If it wasn’t for the balance between the fantastic and the real world, I wouldn’t give a single breath for your friends!” the old trout nagged along.

“But what are we to do,” asked Derrick, “as far as I understood we ought to invent stories??? What kind of stories?”

"We're not sure yet," Ilse answered, "but we figured something out during the flight, we could...

[Arnold Layne]

HUH!

Arnold Layne

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

Since they didn't come up with ANY story the poor friends in the fantasyless part of Neverending, were a bit of panicstricken. The poet was the one it hit first. He got fever and pain in his throat. He hated the nonstories and asked Freckle, if she could tell him a little something, about when they were still out there in Fantasyland.

And she tried.

"Once upon a time there was a little poet, that lived in a little house, in a little land, on a little Earth. And suddenly he disappeared.

"What? Did he really?" exclaimed the poet.

"Yes, he did and his best friend got so worried. She feared that ugly Pekka Fucking had taken him to Excessa"!

"Huh, Excessa? Now you tell too scary, Freckle. I think we stop here, please!"

"Sorry, dear but that will maybe happen if there are no more fantasystories in Neverending. We will all go to Excessa and live there as goates. So you must hurry to get well and start writing again. Capisce!"

Boom Kaboom the Fantasydoor flew open. Again! But it wasn't Pekka Fucking this time. It was the liverhunting Arnold from Leeds... HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

[Ilsekena]

Meanwhile on that flying thing Adrian, Ilse and Derrick were scared to death because..
n.p. please continue someone, I have no time at all! BUTT soon i'll bring the story and set you all free. hang on! I promise. jäjä!

[Arnold Layne]

Is there a "Cliff's Notes" for this?

Arnold Layne

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

Of course there is! Cliff is so smart, that he already knows, that this story never ends and if you have some questions about the nice Freckle, the talented, but just now ill poet, the nasty, scary Pekka and the sturdy, liver-lover Arnold, you can with full confidence ask him, and he will do his best to share his knowledge with you. So make a request to Cliff and he will give you a prompt answer...

[Arnold Layne]

I asked Cliff and he told me to fuck a goat with a Space Noodle. HUH!

Arnold Layne

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

I liked you more when you talked about steaks and sprinkled in Maryland...