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Do I Challenge Peng or Wait for Roxy?


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Originally posted by Seanachai:

See there, Panzer Leader? He's talking about strangling you with his own hands!

That's a mark of acceptance, that is! I think he's starting to warm up to you!

Normally, he'd delegate killing you in utter agony to someone else.

This desire to actually cause your horrible, writhing death himself is, I think, a very positive thing.

You are just confusing him (kinda like asking him what day it is)
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Originally posted by Andreas:

Berli - what was that score again? My personal guess is 90:10. Which would make you what? A case to be dealt with by the unit Commissar?

I hesitate to mention this to your perfectness, but perhap it has slipped your alleged mind that you do have the Super Secret Beta Tester Password™ that we all have to use, so you coul d just open my file and find out for yourself. But, far be it for me to suggest you think for yourself.

I am off to blow up T34s in the east now. I am also quite convinced that the CMBB AI is more of a challenge than any of you non-flossing gits.
No, I am off to blow up T-34s... that is if you ever send a file.
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Originally posted by Berlichtingen:

I hesitate to mention this to your perfectness, but perhap it has slipped your alleged mind that you do have the Super Secret Beta Tester Password™ that we all have to use, so you coul d just open my file and find out for yourself. But, far be it for me to suggest you think for yourself.

96:4 then?

No file until next Wednesday, I am off to Germany to party on a roof in Berlin, and then see my relatives and watch my cousin get married. Not to another cousin, if I may point that out, which may come as a surprise to the Americans in this thread.

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Now that we're all done dressing up in our best tights and bonnets, gadding about for the latest Lady in Waiting who is probably wondering just how she ended up in this madhouse. There are other weighty matters at hand.

Given the fact that it is now Augest and that means winter is only a few days away here in the frozen wasteland that is our great country's northern boundary. I find myself wandering back to the conception of the MBT. I need a fire to warm the engines of my BUFFs and I desire Seanachai's old Canadian-loving hide to start my BBQ with.

Seanachai you polysyllabic wastral. I demand that your take up arms in defense of those pathetic warrior wantabee's just a mere 55 miles north of my location. Anyone who knows not only what but where Regina is deserves to have their entrails slowly removed and used by poor children for jump rope. You spoke the dreaded words of a Canadian hero and for that you will fall under enormous pain.

A setup wings your way in which you will play the evil Canadian in the SNOW. Where else would they feel comfortable. Grab your Curling brush and defend thy honour.

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Originally posted by Roxy:

Berlichtingen,

I suspect you are an Olde One also. You seem to wield a vast amount of power here, and with an iron hand. You are the counterweight to the kind Seanachai. This is indeed a fascinating place. As for the third Olde One, I haven't a clue. Joe Shaw is not him. He's the Sherriff. Please, do tell who the third is.

As for the last of our number, here's a bit of history...

Originally posted by Seanachai in the dim and distant past:

A backpacked figure makes its way through a dark and formless landscape. The terrain is completely flat, featureless, and extends away into dimness in all directions. Slowly it moves towards the only point of reference, a fire alight on the plain. As it finally draws up to it, three seated figures confront him across the low burning flames that barely illuminate the scene.

On the left sits the figure of what seems an old man with long, unkempt hair, mumbling and laughing to himself. Occassionally low snatches of song and rhyme fill the air around him. The middle figure sits with arms folded, silent except for an occassional sound of angry muttering, too low to catch any meaning. An aura of judgement and indefinable loss radiates from it. The third sits completely silent, eyes glowing. It is the hardest to make out, seemingly seated amidst clouds of shifting smoke, and resonates with a feeling of evil. None of the figures are those of giants, but all seem somehow to loom over the landscape around them and the figure that comes to a stop on the far side of the fire, and waits to be noticed. The three figures remain as they are, and finally, shifting uncomfortably, the standing figure calls out.

"Hail, Old Ones!"

Two sit on indifferent, but the figure of the old man looks up smiling, peering into the flickering light where the figure stands.

"Who calls?"

"I, EveryNewbie!"

They regard him in silence, then the old man answers him.

"Bugger that, you're Marlow."

"How do you know that?"

"Saw you coming, now didn't we?"

"Then why did you ask who called?"

"To see what you'd answer, you silly little sod."

"And who are you?"

The figures all smile.

"If you don't know, our telling you won't do any bloody good. Who do you think we are?"

"You are the Old Ones of the Cesspool. The Creators. The ones who brought it all into being."

"Why not. So what does that mean to you? Is that who you believe we are?"

"The others say you are has beens. They say you don't even exist, or you are all the same person. They say you don't matter anymore. They say you're all pretenders to importance."

"Goodness, they have quite a bit to say. And what do you think?"

"I have come here to find out! "

"Have you indeed?"

The lone figure of Marlow, everynewbie, looks around nervously.

"What is this place? I've walked across it for many days."

"Why, this is the Cesspool, lad. Didn't you say you were looking for it's creators?"

"But...but I've been in the Cesspool! This can't be the Cesspool, there's nothing here! It's just all emptiness, and...and...nothing!"

"You think so, eh?"

"Yes! It's all just dim, and flat, and dull."

"That's right, lad. That's what the Cesspool is."

"That's not true! I've been there! There's people, and taunting, and vast caverns filled with effluent, and rats, and hamsters, and PT boats, and castles, and sing-songs, and Knights and Ladies, and Islands, and laughter, and, and—all sorts of stuff!"

The Dark Figure wreathed in smoke picks up what looks like a carved human figure from a stack beside and slightly behind it, and tosses it on the fire. It seems to writhe briefly, then the flames leap a little higher.

"This is the Cesspool, lad." Says the Old Man. "This is what it was, and is. Everywhere where no one's been yet. The Cesspool you know is where we've been, and where folk followed. Now it's filled with things that didn't ever exist before. But before we went there, it was all just like this. An endless plain, filled with nothing. But you can walk the 'Pool, lad, and it becomes whatever you wish."

The figure of Marlow looks at them dubiously.

"Whatever I wish?"

"Of course. What do you think? We waltzed in here one day and took over a furnished flat? No, there was nothing. There was this, that you see, which seems less than nothing."

"Then you are the Old Ones, the Creators!"

"Sure we are, lad. We created everything you see around you." Marlow looks around again.

"But there's still nothing here!"

"Now you begin to see. We made this place. It exists because we wished it. We let you and the other folk in, and you make it into what you want, or need, or desire. But it's all just this, lad. Just what you see."

"But...here, where You are, it's formless?"

"Looks like ****e to me. Do you see anything better?"

"But if you're the Old Ones, you're all powerful!"

The Three laugh. It is not an altogether pleasant sound, especially from the Dark One. The Old Man leans forward.

"Lad, cut open an apple, and there's a seed. Is that the center? Cut open the seed, and there is nothing. Is that the center?"

"I don't understand."

"Of course you don't. We were here when the others came. They didn't see this plain of nothingness. They saw us. They saw taunts and PBEMs, challenges, and insults. They saw lawyers, and mormon wives. More came, and they saw the cartoons, and hamsters. More came yet and they heard sing-songs, and they found the knowledge of 'Lost to [CENSORED]', and they saw Chupacabra's 7 score. More and more came, and they met TC Schutz. The Germans came, the French came, the Australians came. The World entered into the Cesspool. Discord came, and some railed and belittled. Others defended and laughed. Some came seeking challenges. Some came seeking sanctuary. Some came seeking experience. There was literature. There was weirdness. There were even Women. And the more who came, the more Cesspool there was. It spread in every direction, it became whatever the people brought with them. It became a world as large as any other."

"We are the Powers within the Mutha Beautiful Thread. Within the world you call the Cesspool. But around us, unseen, are the Testers, and the Scenario Creators, and the Mod Makers. Above us are the Moderators. And above them all are the True Creators, that made the Game, the Board, the Moderators, the Testers, the Mod Makers, the Mutha Beautiful Thread, and even you, little Marlow, and even such as We. What were you before the Game, before the Board, and before the Mutha Beautiful Thread? Were you Marlow? We think not. You were something else, but not Marlow. Not standing here on this empty plain, asking us for a vision of the Truth. And that is what all the squeaking children in the Cesspool forget. That is what they do not see. This empty place, this is the Cesspool. Formless and void, completely unimagined. We came here, and imagined it. And there was taunting. There was laughter. There were PBEMs. The Cesspool, little Marlow, is Fun. It was so because we wished it to be so. It was so because others wanted there to be fun. And if it ceases to be fun, it will cease to be."

"Why is all this place where I've been, where you are now, why is it empty and drab, dull, dim, and ugly?"

"the Cesspool is what the people make it."

"But what about all the things that you mentioned, all the things I've seen in the Cesspool myself?!"

"That is what was. Where is it now? This is what is. What will it be? The first Mutha Beautiful Thread is gone. As the people move forward into the Cesspool, it becomes what they make it."

"So you are telling me it won't always be formless and empty here?"

"It will be unless it is made otherwise. Create well, little Marlow, you and the others who are coming. You push aside the ones you call useless, but what have you made on your own? As far as the light of this fire, is what you have made so far." Marlow looks around and behind himself.

"There's still nothing here. It's all empty and ugly!"

The Three laugh again. For the first time the other two figures speak, and the Central Figure mutters "Even a blind pig finds an acorn occassionaly", and the Dark Figure softly says "exactly, you silly bastard."

Unnerved, Marlow shuffles his feet, and shifts the straps of his backpack.

"And what of you? What will become of you, if the Cesspool ceases to be 'fun', and is unmade?"

"We abide," the Old Man tells him.

"I know who and what you are now!" Marlow boldly and angrily yells.

"Indeed. And who, and what, are we?"

"You, Old Man, are Seanachai, that they all call Senility! And that one in the middle is [CENSORED], the Curmudgeon! And the other...the other...(gasping, suddenly weak), That's Berli. They claim he's evil!"

"That is who we are, or at least what you can grasp. Those are names, and we do bear them. But they are only names. Now, who are we?" And the Dark Figure named Berli reaches out and taps Marlow on the forehead, and he goes very still.

"You are Seanachai, that means Bard, but you are the Fool, and the Trickster. [CENSORED] is Judgement, and Loss. Berli is...Berli is...Berli's evil."

Seanachai smiles at him.

"Don't be so stupid. Berli isn't Evil. Berli is Death. You couldn't even say it, could you?" Marlow nods. "Or rather, let us say that we are the Past, the Present, and the Future. Now, do you know which is which?"

"Er, [CENSORED] is the...the Past, and, and you are the Present, and...Berli is the Future?"

"Don't be silly, Marlow. You have to keep all this within the context of a wargame, after all. [CENSORED] is indeed the Past, with it's judgements and losses, but Berli is the present, filled with destruction and death, and I am the Future, filled with whimsy and celebration. Aren't I always after a sing-song?"

"I see. What shall I tell the others?"

"Well, lad, you could tell them you met with the three of us, and we were figures out of legend, and explained the mysteries of the 'Pool to you, and that we are the Three Fates, but I imagine they'll just laugh themselves into the necessity of putting on dry pants. Tell them you found an empty and formless desert."

"I'm going back now, then."

Seanachai nods and smiles, [CENSORED] mumbles 'right, get on with it, you pillock', and Berli throws another carved figure on the fire. Marlow strides back into the darkness from which he came, and can be heard muttering 'right, then, if the Cesspool is whatever we imagine and make it into, I'm going to have a harem, and live in Schloss [CENSORED], and I'm going to be a Grand Master Knight and have a duchy..."

[CENSORED]: What did you tell him all that for? Might as well tell it to a cat.

Seanachai: Oh, I don't imagine he'll retain any of it. They never do. Tomorrow he'll be shouting about penises, and making defecation remarks, and practicing low-key homophobia and misogeny like all the rest of the new arrivals. Berli, stop throwing newbies on the fire, it's getting uncomfortably hot and smoky.

Berli: That's the thing about newbies, they don't cast much light, but they burn fast and stink.

[CENSORED]: Do you think they'll reach us anytime soon? Or even ever?

Seanachai: Hard to say. Not anytime soon; not at the rate they're going. I imagine it will be empty out here for some time to come.

Berli: You made a good story of it. Except for that lie at the end. You know that you're the Present, and I'm their Future.

Seanachai: We know that Berli, but why ruin the poor little tyke's day? And after he'd come all this way. Much nicer for them to think they had something to look forward to, like a sing-song. Now, what shall we do while we wait for them to make something of themselves?

Berli: How 'bout a QB?

[CENSORED]: Why not, I believe I'll win this time.

[ August 07, 2002, 08:21 AM: Message edited by: Berlichtingen ]

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Originally posted by PondScum:

</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by mon petite general:

Is that a veiled request for more versilocution on my part?

I do not fear your "songs", my liege. For I know that were I to take the earplugs out during a "performance", my head would instantly implode from the sheer, naked, and abrupt awfulness of your versilocution. </font>
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Originally posted by Roxy:

You are the counterweight to the kind Seanachai. This is indeed a fascinating place. As for the third Olde One, I haven't a clue. Joe Shaw is not him. He's the Sherriff.

Apt

You seem to have contradicted (overridden?)Seanachai's ruling that I may claim the title of "Lady In Waiting".
Not at all
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Originally posted by Andreas:

</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by AussieJeff:

[End Scene 1. Stay tooned for Scene 2]

--------------------------------------

I am not quite sure what is worse - him spilling pilfered stuff in this thread that we all know already anyway, or the alternative, which would be him posting his own 'writings'.</font>
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Originally posted by Gaylord Focker:

</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Seanachai:

</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Gaylord Focker:

</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Patch:

</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Gaylord Focker:

[confused] Who is Patch? [confused]

I am.</font>
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Originally posted by Seanachai:

Bah! Persephone's playing me even as we speak. Or gibber, lately. She's doing bloody well, too. And it can't be Berli's help, because I always beat Berli like a gong. That's Gods hand there, that is.

ĂśberGnome, you've blown my cover! It's true, the Gnome is not very good at CM.

Persephone

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Originally posted by Roxy:

So you are an Olde One. That pleases me. As you have given me the choice of "Squire" or "Lady in Waiting" to theLady Persephone, I choose the latter. "Lady in Waiting" shall be my signature.

Welcome Roxy, Lady in Waiting. You seem to have started out on a good quest...finding out who the third Olde One is. Good luck in your quest.

Persephone

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Originally posted by Panzer Leader:

*SPLASH*

Breaks surface, gasps for life-saving oxygen

Sinks back down

*GURGLE*

A hand appears from off-frame, reaching in to push Panzer Leader's head further underwater. A voice is heard, "Stay down this time..."

Speedbump

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Roxy (bolded because I don't know what to do with a Lady in Waiting ... let me rephrase that ... no, probably better just drop it), anyway I was apologizing to YOU for doubting you, as I said I would when I first raised the issue. I do NOT apologize for requiring more information as that is expected of all applicants.

Berli deserves (and frankly expects) nothing but the back of my hand and that's all he shall get, the git.

As to being "Mean" ... that's my job, to keep the riff-raff out that would demean the CessPool. Berli is of the opinion that social darwinism will take care of the dimmer bulbs that wander in ... I prefer to take a more active role.

I do like to think that I leaven that with a bit of humor from time to time ... Berli doesn't understand that either since his sense of humor was surgically removed years ago ... as you can tell by his posts. If you think I'M mean though ... read a few of the old posts of HIS. I'm a bunny rabbit compared to him.

I'll let Patch (and I don't give a damn, I've been calling her that for ages and have her permission and if others don't like it then TOUGH) fill you in as to the who's who and what's what and why the hell anyways's.

Andreas so nice to see you here again, we can always use another of your knee slapping, chuckle inducing posts to liven up the day. Nothing like a GERMAN transplanted to ENGLAND when you're looking for REAL humor, that's what I always say ... well that's not what I ALWAYS say, sometimes I say "Blast ... thought we got rid of him long ago." ... sometimes I say that too.

Joe

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Originally posted by Joe Shaw:

Andreas so nice to see you here again, we can always use another of your knee slapping, chuckle inducing posts to liven up the day. Nothing like a GERMAN transplanted to ENGLAND when you're looking for REAL humor, that's what I always say ... well that's not what I ALWAYS say, sometimes I say "Blast ... thought we got rid of him long ago." ... sometimes I say that too.

Joe

Joe, why would I give a flying monkey's what you think? I am trying hard to think when was the last time I took someone who dressed up as Patton seriously. Well, I can't remember, and I went back to 1968. So why don't you just hold on to your delusions of grandeur, and sod off a lot.

Remember, the baby does not grow weight because it is made from plastic.

Have a rotten day.

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