Seanachai

Lads, things have gotten serious. There is an emergency within the Thread. Our Queen, the gracious, fair, and much beloved Queen Emma, has gone missing. We not only suspect foul play, we demand it. Nothing else except the intervention of scum could take our Fair Queen from us. Our enemies are legion. Our foes our multitude. Any of them would like to see us bereft of all good government, and the care of a fair and just Monarch. Leave no stone unturned to return our Queen to us. Her formal coronation awaits. Who do we suspect? Everyone. The goddamn Goodalers...the Grogs...halfwits of every stripe... Any or all of them might have had a hand in the fact that our Queen is missing. And that bastard Mr. Tittles. Does anyone know where he's been posting lately? Rest not, leave no leaf unturned, in the search for our Queen. If you offend, if you presume, if you go way over the top and start threatening people in other threads with acetylene torches, burning off eyebrows and the occasional nose while screaming 'where is she, where is she, you f*cker', know that we, the Olde Ones of the Peng Challenge Thread, shall answer for all. Find our Queen. Punish the wrongdoers. Go out there, and make some people suffer.

Pity you didn't understand the rest of the thread, then. </font>

Spoken like a gentleman. I knew your intent, but, given that I am a low and hateful fellow, I wanted no one to mistakenly give me credit for being low and hateful when, in a moment of weakness, I was not being low and hateful. Such things happen even to the best of us, and I wanted everyone to be sure that such had not, in fact, happened to the worst of us. But we must not judge Grog Dorosh too harshly. The stress of being a Mythic Figure of Divine Retribution is beginning to tell on him. Not only that, but he's Canadian. Canadians can't dance for ****e, and being the Messenger of the Apocalypso must be straining every nerve and sinew as he attempts to follow the harmonic and syncopated flow of the End Times. In short, Pestilence is simply in over his head with the sound of steel drums echoing all about him. It's making him cranky. I suggest everyone back off and let him learn the steps.

Yes, that sort of talk should properly put him in his place and make him realize the error of... Well, at least something's been said to him.

Ok, I can live with that </font>

Ahem. Please note I was not 'piling on'. I was, through a completely over the top post, satirical in intent, indicating that Mr. Pete was being handled a trifle bit roughly. This may have gotten lost in translation. My sense of humour, such as it is, is almost indistinguishable from being a hateful and bitter vicious sod. However fine that line might be, I maintain that it does meet certain Government set standards for satire rather than simple abuse. Whatever Mr. Pete intended with his response, which I thought was quite restrained, his original post did not strike me as offensive. Except for the nt bit. I thought this needlessly vague. He should amend such usage in the future. I have spoken. Quite a number of other, well known posters including that swine Soddball and Aka Tom whatsit have posted 'gimme' threads, or preorder death watch threads, or other such, and nobody jumped them. Well, except in the usual way, by suggesting that Soddball was a degenerate lunatic who should be made to suffer. And who could argue with that? And Aka Tom...well, I've never been completely sure how to approach that bugger. I imagine everyone else is confused, as well. He should get a real, manly screenname. As it stands now I keep thinking he's registered by the American Kennel Association. And, my dear Elvis: 'back in the day?' 'Back in the Day?!' Back in the Day my much hated Gnome arse. Cheerful abuse has always been a part of this Board. Monsieur Dorosh was noteworthy simply for his lack of cheerfulness. That said, Elvis, I hate you within all the legal limits set by Federal Law. Kisses. Mr. Pete: Please do not take the boisterously vicious attacks of some of us here to heart. They are rough, rude, low fellows, the most of them, unused to the company of anyone except their own mannequins, mythic embodiments of elemental forces, and sock puppets. Not like myself. You can trust me. I'm the Nice One. Oh, and I can spell 'pus'.

Nah, you'd make a terrible Cabron... you seem... stable </font>

Mr Tittles? What the HELL is a Mr Tittles, and why wasn't I invited to the stoning? </font>

I have, of late, noticed a serious dulling of the wits of the Horsemen. Pray God that the Apocalypso will not occur before they get their form back. [ November 14, 2003, 05:32 PM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Is that all that a Canadian fiver is worth these days?

Patient, actually. He's making fine progress. Halfway house and twice weekly medication check-ins by early next year. Probably. Now, Mr. Pete, (if that is in fact your name), let me begin by saying that I take exception to everything you said. From your reasonable tone, to your refusal to become overly angry, I find you despicable. If I had you in front of me right now, I would not hesitate to strangle you to death with my own hands. Until the sort of even-tempered vileness that you represent is expunged from this world, I will never rest in telling you that you are all that is worst and stupidest in mankind. I realize that these may not be the words that you want to hear, but they are the words that you must hear, because they are the words that I am saying to you. I pray for the day when I can come on to an internet forum and not see the sort of measured response that I was so horribly subjected to by you. Until such time as you rip Dorosh into bleeding fragments, you may consider yourself on my list. I will get back to you as soon as I decide which list that should be, and then find it to add your name to. Yours Respectfully, Seanachai

Just keep agreeing with me, Salkin. It's the only means of becoming more intelligent without actually having to think more clearly. Yes, the whole Cabron66 incident really set Emrys off, didn't it? He went into it still all meek and helpful, trying to be considerate and fair to other posters. But as Cabron's madness grew and grew, and as others started chiming in to tease and torment him, I noticed that Michael began to join in. I think it was JonS's involvement that convinced Michael that teasing Cabron a bit couldn't really be wrong. Mockery and abusiveness by Andreas, Dorosh, Berli and myself, of course, made him think that he should probably be even-handed, but when JonS started mocking Cabron Emrys clearly decided to take the plunge. And what happpened? What you knew would happen. Emrys found that he liked it. Yeah, that first taste was all it took. Pretty soon Emrys was handing out mockery and abuse to all and sundry. I'm pretty sure he'll end up as a Made for TV Movie within the next year or so...

Actually, it would be less tolerable except for the enjoyment of watching Soddball writhe. Almost makes me hope they put it off for a few more months...

I've noticed that about you ever since Cabron unmasked you for the caustic, rat bastard that you really are </font>

They didn't have rubber ducks in Sweden? I thought you buggers were famous neutralists. What sort of toy would that be for a 4 year old?

Nidan, that's great news. One of my peculiar horrors revolves around losing my vision, so I'm glad to hear you're doing so much better. I hate you in the same, solid, meat and potatoes way I've always hated you, mind, but I'm relieved to hear that you'll be able to see me flipping you off for many years to come. Good luck on recovering full vision. I hope your remaining distortion doesn't cause you to see your fired rounds landing behind the firing vehicle.

Oh, the fox went out on a chilly night and he prayed to the moon to give him light he had many a mile to go that night before he reached the town-o, town-o, town-o he had many a mile to go that night before he reached the town-o. He ran til he came to a great big pen, Where the ducks and the geese were all kept in, "A couple of you are gonna grease my chin, Before I leave this town-o, town-o, town-o, A couple of you will grease my chin, Before I leave this town-o." He grabbed the gray goose by the neck, Throwed a duck across his back, He didn't mind their quack, quack, quack, And their legs a-dangling down-o, down-o, down-o, He didn't mind their quack, quack, quack, And their legs a-dangling down-o. Then old Mother Flipper-Flopper jumped out of bed, Out of the window she stuck her head, Crying, "John, John! The gray goose is gone, And the fox is on the town-o, town-o, town-o!" Crying, "John, John! The gray goose is gone, And the fox is on the town-o!" Then John, he went to the top of the hill, Blowed his horn both loud and shrill, The fox he said, "I better flee with my kill, Or they'll soon be on my trail-o, trail-o, trail-o!" The fox he said, "I better flee with my kill, Or they'll soon be on my trail-o!" He ran till he came to his cozy den, There were the little ones, eight, nine, ten, They said, "Daddy, better go back again, 'Cause it must be a mighty fine town-o, town-o, town-o!" They said, "Daddy, better go back again, 'Cause it must be a mighty fine town-o! Then the fox and his wife without any strife, Cut up the goose with a fork and knife, They never had such a supper in their life, And the little ones chewed on the bones-o, bones-o, bones-o, They never had such a supper in their life, And the little ones chewed on the bones-o. In honour of Berli's Thanksgiving To Be.

Doze...doze...doze... Bloody words lost all meaning. Just doesn't sound right. What was that slogan from The Tick? "Will Evil never rest? I certainly hope not!"

No. I doze, occasionally.

Hmm...what if the lackwit is right?! GET THEE BEHIND ME, CMPLAYER! Ummm...I'm not sure how to 'aim', now.

It wasn't an 'offer'. Now stand still while I soak you down, wolf fondler!

That was just lovely, Rainman. I make an water upon you from a considerable height.

What makes you think I didn't roll and slaver to get these? I might have been working behind the scenes...

puzzled Michael, it is November in Minnesota. We are all wearing flannel underwear.

Perhaps it was a late war German tank? Those mounted large, U-shaped metal pipes that would catch the incoming shell, divert it back along the half-circle of the U, and send it back towards the firing tank. You are not 'sticking to your guns'. You are maintaining an idiotic statement. I choose to be kind and have decided you are simply insane. Thank God you are studying Neurobiology. The idea that you might study Engineering or Physics or something similar and end up working for the Space Program would otherwise keep me from my sleep. But I shall sleep well, knowing that your chosen field does not depend in any way on an actual understanding of ballistics, Wiley Coyote.