v42below

Well, usually, being a bird, they don't talk.

Пошёл на хуй!

The real question is - When will you shut your yap and sod off?

*The entire Cesspool watches 37mm smiling and druelling in his sleep on the floor of the thrown room, as the twit mumbles something incoherent. An empty bottle of meths, a plastic bag and a packet of glue complete the sorry sight* Boo - That's the strangest way I've seen anyone celebrate their Knighthood... Joe - I told you no good would come of this! Seanachai - I suppose I might as well take the opportunity to literally piss on the lad from a considerable height. Someone give me a boost. v42below - Well, ordinarily I would say this is far too low, even for the Cesspool, but in this case it is my duty...nay...my privelege, to ensure this is done properly! *brings Yeknod over and puts Seanachai on his back*. Steady, Yeknod, this will only take a minute and you've seen stranger things. YK2 - What's all this then? Oh no you don't, not in my thrown room! v42below - But, your Majesty, do you not recognise the subject of this harmless prank? YK2 - *glances at the motionless body on the floor* Oh, quite right. It's nice to see Seanachai's dangly bits still have some use. Well then, as you were. Just make sure you have it all cleaned up by the time I've finished my bath. *walks out, stopping only to pick up a bottle of red wine from under the thrown* ...37 seconds later... *37mm opens his eyes and hears Joe's voice - Rise, Sir 370mls! *as he looks around something seems amiss, however, all in the Cesspool seem to be smiling at him.* "And why shouldn't they?, he thinks to himself, "Am I not their Messiah? Am I not the man of the day?" *and then it hits him* 370mls - WHY AM I ALL WET? AND WHAT IS THAT SMELL??? v42below - Those are tears of joy, my friend...all 370mls of them. [edited - because long posts are a pain in the ass to proof] [ February 06, 2005, 06:03 PM: Message edited by: v42below ]

Well I hope Boo will be there to clean up the imminent mess this poodle makes when he craps himself with excitement.

I thought I had taught you the value of patience in our last game, but apparently not...Your setup will arrive at some time in the future.

Oh yes, almost forgot - the git shows no respect for the common practice of spelling and bolding the names of Squires and Knights. I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel here...for the hate of Peng, someone come up with something more substantial.

Well, he did say this: in reference to Her Majesty, surely that is enough to leave him a lowly Squire for at least eternity?

Summer in the UK in February? Lay off the crack, or at least cut the lines down to 20mm.

<font size=6>*BOOT*</font> That felt good.

Don't forget to mention the fact that you're also annoying and short.

Turns out the sarge has less courage than I thought. Then again, what can you expect from a Finn...

You may be a comrade in arms on the Fiefdom battlefield, Viljuri, but if you want the chance to be rediculed and poked with sharp sticks here, you must have an email in your profile. Even then you'd just be an SSN, hardly worth the dirt on the soles of our shoes. You could always just sod off, you know. Believe me, it's the better choice.

Now that I'm officially beheaded, that photo is outdated and misleading. I therefore suggest that the Justicar give consideration to removing it and replacing it with a picture of a headless moose.

I think I've found my Ichabod Crane.

*spurt* *spurt* *spurt*...*thud*...*oooooze*

Enough of this talk of removing peoples noggins with rusty fish hooks! *Deep breath* *Takes a HUGE swing with a meat cleaver at v42's Noggin * If a job's worth doing, it's worth doing right... Now where did I put that pike! </font>

If Her Majesty asked me to remove your noggin with rusty fish hooks, I would do it too.

I always knew there was something royal about me!

*bites stick in half* You should really use the higher quality New Zealand timber, rather than that forest fire wood crap that seems to burn off every year...

Well, excuse me, Mr Brad Pitt, but this picture, doesn't exactly put Paris, France at the top of my holiday destination list.

Are you implying that the four-eyed turtle man actually has a chance? I guess if we were having it out in the bright Australian sun, he could take advantage of that shiny noggin of his and blind me with the reflected rays. Still, I'm sure that, as long as I managed to rid him of those truck headlights he uses as his spectacles, he'd simply end up strangling himself with that bow tie.

Quite...and I'm sure that by the time his pants can soak up no more of the blue refuse (got to take it easy on the meths, old boy) and a few drops actually escape outside, I will have walked way past whatever pole he decided to climb up this time in search of his meds.

Do some research on Pawbroon and the answer will come to you </font>

Roight! That's the one I'm going to BFC with!