Seanachai

Sod that, you look like you want to blow Everything up. Thank the gods yer wife looks like a nice person. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues [This message has been edited by Seanachai (edited 02-27-2001).]

Why you wench. You've come a ways, laddie. You showed proper spirit, even from the first. You (for the most part) avoided the common idiocies of 'thingy' fascination, the endlessly unamusing 'I just had carnal knowledge of your relative/wife/girlfriend/pet', and the equally dreadful 'I have issues with my parents having forced my toilet training, leaving me with emotional scars and mental blockages that I will act upon for at least my first 15 posts on this Thread, and might even periodically revisit'. Now, Agua my lad. May I call you Bad Water? You have been showing more promise. Truly. But, I have issues with you still. You went through that extremely bad 'fictional' state, in which it was hard to judge if you were attempting a tribute to me, or a rather hollow mockery. I chose to give you some credit, and ascribed the latter motive to your rather puerile writings. Consider, fellow me lad. I have given this Thread fictional pieces based on Icelandic Sagas, North American Coyote tales, and Aboriginal myth. I have made reference to, and developed upon themes from Shakespeare to the Bible. I have led this sorry lot of roistering, urinal cake snorting, windshield wiper fluid drinking, bestiality and sodomy fixated group of day-release half-way house escapees on many a merry sing-song, covering works from Kurt Weil to Andy M. Stewart, to Eric Bogle. And what did you give back to me? Star Trek? High Noon (and the bargain basement, 'JD Morse has already done it better version of High Noon', at that, you wank)? But I forgive you. I shan't forget, but I forgive you. Now, and not just because you've had the effrontery and exuberance, the pluck, and the foolishness to remain here, despite the fact that everyone told you to SOD THE HELL OFF! But Shaw, Mighty Among Idjits, has determined to take you under his...er, well, wing, I guess. And, frankly, you seem to have the will to evolve. To learn. To make your way amongst this, a Mighty Brethren of Truly Annoying Swine. Not just Vulgarians. Not just Talkers of Trash. But Folk Who Stand by their willingness to advance the Peng Challenge Thread. To advance the lovely Taunting, by which all here are buoyed up, and kept from the despair of newbie fools arriving on the main Board (and occassionaly here) with their foolish boasts and their lacklustre attemtps to Walk the Walk. The Peng Challenge Thread, lad, isn't about defecation and/or reversing the process, win/loss ratios, and the fact that the gene-pool is too shallow for a good splash, let alone diving. It's about the glory of having a go at someone, taunting them fine, and forcing them to let you into the circle of Cess because you've proven youself a True Warrior of the Way of the Useless Git. Look it up in your history books, laddie. It was the least known, most secretive, and most under-valued warrior class in ancient Japan (if you don't believe me, ask the two most knowledgeable in this area, enlightened, but otherwise impractical wastes-of-carbon on this Thread, Hakku and Germanboy. They'll lie to ya', and tell you I'm full of ****e, but they know). Now, having without too much bloody trouble recovered my title as the most hideously long-winded, vague, rambling bastard on this entire Thread, I come to my ultimate point. Send me a setup, laddie. I can't promise you that I'll win, but I can promise you that you will lose. 1500 points or less, all the other parameters are in your unstable hands. Mind, if you do anything completely useless or sodden, I'll not hesitate to make much of it. Now, on to the most important point: When I defeat you, how do you want it described in fictional terms? As an archetypal retelling in the genre of the Western, of Sci-Fi? ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues [This message has been edited by Seanachai (edited 02-27-2001).]

I will not accept surrender under these terms. You live, therefore you will play CM again, in happpier, better days when life issues of work and other permit. Until then, the folder of turns labeled 'Hiram Sedai' shall remain on my hard drive, in my PBEM folder, and shall only be closed and archived when the final turn of that game is played out. Selah. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

Sigh. I've had but the one Squire, Hiram. But he has left us to seek his fortune. Sometimes I wonder how things are with him. Then I return some turns. Oh, well, he'll come back to us one day, I just know he will. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

Sigh. It took me even longer to find the Thread this time, and I was only out of town for 2 days. Fortunately the Mad One always leaves a trail of breadcrumbs to the new home. Thanks, jd, for restarting the Thread, but why can none of you grasp the fact that the Thread must have 'Peng Challenge' in it? Peng could not possibly be in Paradise. But the Peng Challenge Thread could go there. Tedious place, really. Paradise, I mean. After all, how do you know it's the best there is just because you can't think of anything better? All that aside, although I haven't really got caught up on the new Thread, why are you doing a stage production of the Lord of the Rings? That strikes me as unusually bizarre, even for this place. Frankly, if the Peng Challenge Thread members are going to put on a show, it should probably be something like "Marat/Sade" (to give it it's short name), or something by Brecht&Weil. I mean, the members here could probably do well with 'The Threepenny Opera', or 'the City of Mahagony'. Still, from what I've read so far, either some nutter's come to the Thread, or one of you is practicing lines for a stage play. Confess, lads, who's playing the part of Aragorn? Ah, well. I shall endeavour tomorrow to get caught up on the Thread. Tonight I concentrated on getting turns out to avoid hard words thrown at me by Berli, and Goanna, and other demanding chums. I'm sure a few more pages of reading will sort out who's playing which character. Is Bauhaus going to play Gollum, or is Moriarity? Seems to me this Thread is going to have a hell of a time coming up with people who can play the noble characters. Really, lads, go with something else. I mean, think of the fun we could all have doing Weil sing-songs (that even sounds right for this place), gleefully inserting our fellows names into the songs! peng was all present and bauhaus was there and shaw he was up for promotion not that the Army gave a bugger who they were when they fronted some heathen commotion the troops live under the cannon's thunder from Sin to Kootch Bey-Har moving from place to place when they come face to face with a different breed of fellow whose skins are black or yellow they quick as winking chop them into Beefsteak, TarTar! mark iv found his whiskey too warm and meeks found the weather too balmy but berli took them both by the arm said, boys, don't ever disappoint the army the troops live under the cannon's thunder from Sin to Kootch Bey-Har moving from place to place when they come face to face with a different breed of fellow whose skins are black or yellow they quick as winking chop them into Beefsteak, TarTar! lorak's a write-off and croda is dead and jd was shot for looting but young men's blood goes on being red and the Army still goes on a-head Re-cruiting. the troops live under the cannon's thunder from Sin to Kootch Bey-Har moving from place to place when they come face to face with a different breed of fellow whose skin is black or yellow they quick as winking chop them into Beefsteak, TarTar! ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues [This message has been edited by Seanachai (edited 02-23-2001).] [This message has been edited by Seanachai (edited 02-23-2001).]

Elijah, I cannot but grant your wish in this matter. Mind, my time, which is not spent mooning about, nor spent staring into the eyes of my beloved, nor spent murmuring soft lines of poetry that I'm sure you completely bollocks up, but she's too lovely too make a point of your hopeless idiocy; my time, sir, is at a premium. Which means it's completely worthless and enslaved to arseholes that merely buy it, rather than earning it. Rather like the time your woman spends with you. So do me the favour of truly earning the time she spends with you one night, you wank, and do something only and completely for her. And I, a being as completely worthless as yourself, but without the threat of breeding and imposing my (admittedly superiour to yourself) genetic material on the species, will endeavour to find a space of time in which to confront you in a tcp/ip game. It seems only right. Checking my calendar now... ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

It's true. Dorosh's comments were, well, smarmy and useless at best. At their worst, they were complete ****e from someone who's contributed nothing more positive than the effort he chose to belittle. It takes the useless, the snotty, the smarmy, and the pointless to bring out the best...er, that is, the worst in our Peng. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

****e, Elijah's back. Lock up the waterheads and fools to keep them safe. The poor, useless wee tykes. Sorry, carry on answering questions here, we'll take Peng and Meeks back to the Thread of Threads, and hammer them both until they acknowledge their homeland, and refuse to leave it. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

'Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished for... Well, not actually by any rational being, but I've made my peace with you, Meeks, a long time ago. You and the House of Orange. Those bastards. And don't get me started on that swine Meeks... Anyway. Where've you been, laddie? Off proposing, I hope? There's nothing like the love of even the worst of women, Elijah, to justify a man's existence. Mind, we'll have to round up a full squad to speak for you, but there you have it. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues [This message has been edited by Seanachai (edited 02-21-2001).]

I pretty much consistently use all the Artillery/Mortars that I can get my hands on, both on-board and FO. I'm not saying I use it effectively, or that it's as decisive as any other arm, but combined with a strong infantry, it can do serious damage, and even swing the course of a battle. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

He's right, there, Rune. The first job of the Devil is to convince everyone that he doesn't exist. Actually, Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman have a great quote about the concept that I'll have to find when I get home. Now, in your case, you're more of a shouting demon sort of evil, not a 'subtle adversary of mankind and God' sort of evil. So you'll never qualify as Satan. Still, thanks for playing. Although you both qualify on one level. If Satan was going to live anywhere on the terrestrial plane, it would be in Illinois. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues [This message has been edited by Seanachai (edited 02-20-2001).]

Rune, Berli might have some harsh words for you about Chance Encounter 2. I thought I was going to be the one blasting you, but then I discovered that German tank that you managed to encode as completely impervious to allied AP. Things evened right up after that. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

Could you please post that in the form of a question. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

Sod that, Mensch, that can't be you. Nothing's exploding. Where are the rockets? ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

I abase myself in my contrition. Having finally resolved my system problems, and switched over my ISP (anyone playing me who doesn't know my new email address, it's now in my profile), I am making a concerted effort to get turns out more quickly. Now, I still have one problem to resolve with my hard drive, which will involve backing up everything and reformatting the drive. Doubtless after I do this, I will have new and horrendous problems, so I'm waiting a while before attempting it. Hopefully I can minimize my playlist before I risk that move. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

Notice, all, that the incidence of the asterisk is growing. Soon, my own, much berated shame might not be such a mark of distinction. Could Peng be growing into the game? Or was he never as lame as he was made out to be? Or could evil be afoot, and you are all being drained of your precious bodily fluids? I await the Lost To Peng™ appearing on more foreheads soonest. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

Hmm, Peter, lad, how many beers did you have between your opening round of personally drunken, happy gloating over having found a...er...companion, your relatively impressive but ocassionaly tedious abuse of Geier, and the latter bits, where you for a few minutes actually seemed spot on again, then deteriorated into anal humour? We're trying to compile a profile of exactly how drunk you have to be to post well, before you slip over the line into idiocy. I must say, you're keeping us guessing. And Peter, you know you want my approval. Don't make me take my belt off, lad. And I assume by Eliott you mean T.S. Eliot (one t, lad, but we'll make allowances for that warm, muzzy feeling one gets from having recently distributed their genetic material, as well as being drunk as ****e). I never touch myself while reading Eliot, lad. He requires far too much attention, as his best works aren't simple reads. Now, be a good lad, and remember to sleep on your stomach. We wouldn't want you aspirating the vomit, now would we? No, we'd miss you terribly, I'm sure. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

Yes, Joe, and that should be a great comfort to him. We are all descending into the maw of death together. But it's rather nice to have you boots on the shoulders of someone else as you go. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues [This message has been edited by Seanachai (edited 02-19-2001).]

Madmensch, I feel that something is troubling you. Your recent remarks seem to indicate a less than jocular tone. Perhaps an email attachment of me singing a medley of Disney tunes would make you feel better? Confess, child, you are unhappy. But you are never alone, Mensch. We are always with you. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

As the Peng Challenge Thread goes, so goest the Board. On the bleeding edge, as it were, it was only a matter of time before the rest caught up. Oh, I know, someone tried that 'Rogues Gallery' posting some time ago, but it never caught on. When you are ready to join with us, you will know it. And after the urge to kill yourself passes, you might even enjoy posting there. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

Peter, this is one of your better posts. I would recommend that you post drunk more often, but I don't see how that could be carried out without a complete shutdown of your liver and renal system. Your remarks to Mensch, while a little thin, were all completely applicable. Your inspired storytelling about the vagaries of hanging with the London 'Soon to be a discussion group at the Betty Ford Clinic' gang was interesting. Your ability to communicate in English, a language that I know you acquired late in life, is most gratifying. Now, in other news, I'm pretty much back. Therefore, if you think I owe you a turn, and haven't seen anything from me as of tonight, send me an email. I lost files and records of who'd received what, so just let me know and we will sort things out. Also of note: the pattern previously established, in which Berli and I play a game, and he rends and befuddles me, but then Higher Powers who's agendas can only be speculated about step in and smite him to the ground while raising me up on high, is still in force. Berli is once again being cheated and denied by the gods in our current game. Makes you understand his bitterness and the whole revolt against Heaven thing. Still too early to predict a victory, but the sheer savagery of come-uppance he's undergoing would make most of you lesser beings weep. Finally, am I to understand that Chupacabra has felt the tender embrace of an English lass? The poor girl. What a cry for help. I can only hope that her friends and family recognize her deteriorating emotional state and heart-rending self-esteem issues, and get her the help she needs. To the English Nation, I offer up a heartfelt apology for Chuppie's presence and actions, and can only pray that he took measures appropriate to avoid inflicting his genetic heritage on your citizens. Selah. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

Mensch: GO TOWARDS THE LIGHT! NOW, GO NOW! DON'T HESITATE, ENTER THE LIGHT, DO IT! With any luck at all, it'll be a tourbus. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

Sigh. Mensch, oh Mensch. Those of us for whom English is language in which we can actually communicate, would have to assume that by 'oranisim type', you meant either "organism type" or "onanism type". In either case, you've proved yourself incapable of communication in either Kanadien, or German, and must lie down in the shallow end of the gene pool and allow Mace to have a slash on you. By the by, Frieda, the dachshund, says you'll always be soulmates, as well as medication buddies. Now, lie down and die like the vermin you are, and say something useful and apropos to the Thread of Threads, like praise of myself, or else shove everyone's disclaimers of you up your arse, laddy, while singing "I'll take you Home Again, Arlene". ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

Lorak, my greatness specifically stems from my ability and willingness to notice the little people. That's not to say that you are one of them, by any means. No, I see you as one of the giants of the Peng Challenge Thread. A slightly hunched, forelock pulling, 'so glad to be noticed by your excellency' giants, but a giant none the less. Now, in other news, I feel that I, like your own fine self, have moved into a period of megalomania and self-absorption. Possibly it's the posting I see recently, possibly it's a sudden, unexepected awareness of my own superiority to most of the people who post in the Thread. Normally, I'm attentive and accepting of the rather useless lot of cabbages (thank you, Peng) that post here, but my recent difficulties and the abuse I've suffered under have given me a new perspective. I've found that, as I've always suspected, most of the posters here, especially the new immigrants, are a useless waste of procreative matter. Beyond merely muddying the gene pool, they've actually been pissing in it, and then jumping up and down in the shallow end while singing Barry Manilow songs, splashing bystanders, and annoying everyone with their antics. Now, Berli has said some very applicable and inappropriate things about me in other, much lesser, threads, and the folk here have re-awakened to my presence, so I feel my job here tonight is done. I am still trying to get turns out to the Folk, but tomorrow night is more likely as I had to get together with family tonight, and the only one who might have got a turn is the Lizard King, because it is inconceivable that I might rack up anything like a 'wuss factor', as most of the those who post here stand in the same relationship to me as do house pets (and not well behaved or trained house pets, at tha). Selah. It is good to move amongst you again, my brethren. Although most of my time is spent wiping my feet on Mace and Mensch, while muttering about the damage to the suede uppers, and wondering if the heavy load of 'ice free' will be enough to cause the afore mentioned useless daft buggers to dissolve into puddles of Kitty worship and madness, respectively. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

I would save you if I could, but you're probably beyond redemption. One can only hope in your next incarnation, you'll attempt to have an actual identity, you festering boil (the afore-said remarks have no relation to a defeat by the above mentioned uninspired swine). ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues