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The idea is simple. Every week or so, I give you a line that you then have to embellish into a full blown story, making it as fantastical, whimsical and froody as you like. Points are added for making me lol.
So, I'll start you off this week with:
So, tell me about the time you fended off a siege on your castle armed with nothing more than a plate of cheese and two baguettes.
Once Upon a time there was the brave Mr.Big, he was a poor soldier. He saw a castle once he wanted and in the castle was an über high tech supercomputer. So he gathered an army, he got the best of the worst :P, Chalex, Bloo, Chazlene, Target and Hutch. They trained days and nights and weeks. Finally they were ready so we go on and get some horse's, Then Mr.Big had forgotten to teach them horse riding, so many days and nights longer they had mastered the horse riding skill. They rode many days and nights in cheesy plates and armed with baguettes and got to the castle. BOOOOOMM cannons were shot, Bloo was killed there. The Rest stormed the castle after fighting 300swordsmen Hutch and Target where killed, then when we got to the king. The kings bodyguards managed to kill Chalex and Chazlene but the brave Mr.Big killed the king and the bodyguards, Then he got Chalex a medic and he lived. Mr.Big started the überhightech pc ...... then kaboooom the window vista crashed and not another windows vista in 9999999999... km :( . THE END!
Ps. i dont want to defend my castle, i want to attack a castle lol
Now, as I was sitting down in my castle, eating a traditional roast peasant with sage stuffing, I heard a rather loud commotion outside the window. I went over to it to see what all the matter was about, expecting to see the peasants revolting again, but instead I saw a huge crowd of Frenchies camping there, loudly jeering us in a French accent.
Before you know it an Acme Siege Supplies van pulled up outside and disgorged a huge siege tower and some ladders.
'Sign here guv'.
So, some dastardly Frogs had decided to take over my bloody castle! Well, being the red-blooded Englishman that I was. the only thing that would have been more shamful was to lose to the bloody Huns. I looked in the pantry, seeing whether there was anything I could use to defend myself with, but all I saw was a plate of cheese and some baguettes.
This gave me an idea.
Everyone knows bloody Frogs like their cheese sandwiches. I made the greatest cheese baguette roll ever, and tossed it in the middle of the mob of stinking Frenchies. Long story short, they all killed each other trying to get the baguette and the winnder died of food poisoning.
I was brooding silently in my dark gothic style castle, stroking my chin as the crows circled in a cyclone shape over my towers. Then wiping a fleck of blood from my chops I called Igor to fetch the Waterboard and Nurnberg wheel. We tortured wannabe emos into the night, with all the things they'd stupidly been writing on their "MyFace" pages, the gothic castle and vampire costume of course not being my usual abode or attire. At the end, they left as zoned out normal people. Some of the radical emos traced us back to our bureau in Slough where most of the paper work was done by Doris the secretary. After brutally subjecting her to FallOutBoy and MCR, the wannabe emos forced the information out of her battered mind and converged on our rented castle.
Well, we kicked ass essentially and they were already demoralised by the exciting rendition of "If you are happy and you know it, clap your hands", as they were coming over the walls. After discussing their feelings about their parents non-divorce and the fact that their life sucks, even though they live in Berkshire, they discovered the good news from the happy end of a 4X4 Baguette with a hard piece of cheese (which was like a nail in it). Well, at least they could go home with one more piercing... Because they were not self harming, and eyeballs, spirits and bones were being broken, not wrists or hearts, they ran away to their computers, and took photos of themselves in the mirror to show their wounds to the Police.The Police who didnt really give a flying fuck about Windows XP or mirrors,and due to the stereotypes of emos, thought they were doing this for attention, and knew that emos self harm and shit... Well Igor and I have had to move premises due to fears of revolt (We have a peasant town of wannabe emos down below the castle hill as well as the scum from elsewhere). But now our business is going strong, like Kris' cheeses and chav pregnation runs rife among the experiments.
*In a Scottish Accent*
It had been ten days since the bastard Aztecs had besieged Fort MacTanty, and supplies were running low, down to our last two baguettes that we had ripped off a group of Frenchman the day those buggers attacked. Morale was low, the men had long since given up on the kilt flashing and now that the last of the haggis had been slaughtered for food, we were getting quite bored.
That night, when the moon was nowhere to be seen, the wankers climbed up the walls silently while the men played hide and seek, they caught us off guard, most men died in their hiding places and the seeker himself died when he counted to zero and turned around.
I, Bastard Major McKaigen, came out of the kitchen after trying to ration the last of the food and saw the bloodbath, they had the central keep now, all was lost. But aye, it wasn’t, with quick thinking I took the last of the cheese and threw it into the crowds of screaming Aztec Badger Warriors and quite right like a badger they ate the cheese, it was genius at the wankers started falling down at the horrendous bowel problems French cheese causes (not to mention the smell and taste), the surviving Aztecs though, fearsome and angry that there wasn’t enough cheese to go around charged right for me, with the two baguettes in hand I charged, I fought the buggers to a blood stalemate.
The fight went for hours, they could not match my pastry product but aye, I could not match their numbers, I was fighting against time... One of those wankers bit deep into the bread and tore it from my hand, the other broke in half from overuse, the Aztecs began to swarm over me, this was it. The end.
Then those drunken Irishmen, led by one Paddy O’Deary threw a volley of potatoes onto them Aztecs, confused and slightly curious they turned and left me there on the floor, and charged the Irishmen, who quickly drunk themselves into a stupor and started to fight like a drunken Irishmen on Saint Patricks day which is was, incidentally. The Irish fought off the Aztecs and eventually the bastards wondered why they were in Scotland anyway and instead sailed back to Central America without a word.
Fort MacTanty was saved, but a lot of good men died, and a lot of good kilts went to waste. T’was a grim battle indeed, but I can safely remember forever that
I HELD THE LINE.
// *Can't be fucked if any of the grammar or spelling is wrong. Fuck you Nazis. Bloo out.
Id amo id amo id amo!
By the fair and just democratic process (ie I pick my favourite) I declare myself the winner, with Bloo coming a close runner-up.
New line (now that everyone has got the idea):
So, tell us about the time you went to the moon using nothing more than a packet of fags and a kangaroo.
If anyone mentions emo bashing I swear to God I will come round to your house and pull silly faces in the window. You aren't funny at all.
You have been warned
Well, i basically took a baguette and fed the thousand... then the army of 1000 people liked me, so i could call my good friend Osama to bomb them. Oh yeah, spawnofebil was there too.
Damn scene-kids. They ruin our beer, steal our whiskey and cider and pretend to be funny. If they want to be so popular, try to make friends, dont pretend to be emo.
--
I'm so scene I cut my wrists.
EDIT: Ebil, just because i respect your opinion, i live in 30 Freemans Road in Bodicote.
You have been informed.
I was escaping from France, you see, not sure why but the bloody natives didn't like me.....might've involuntarily made a gesture with two fingers.....keep doing that when I see fro- frenchi- French people, there we go
anyway, they were chasing me, so, taking cover from the volleys of moldy cheese (bloody dangerous stuff, that) I had to come up with a plan to escape.....all I had left was a packet of French cigarettes, I'm not even sure how they'd got there, they must've sneaked them into my pocket, anyhow, using half the packet I tied the cigarettes together and made a rope, and caught a stray kangaroo which was passing, probably as lost as I was.
At this point the French ran out of moldy cheese and began to charge armed with stale French sticks, so my time was limited. Anyway with nothing else left I decided to light the cigarettes I had left all at once. The explosion left a huge crater, and and next thing I knew I was on the moon, with a very confused kangaroo.
Well, I was pondering how I was to complete this challenge of getting to the moon and then came up with an idea... the Australian Space agency. They use these Kangaroos as Astronauts you see, so I sealed myself into the pouch of a very fat kangaroo after killing all the other Kanganauts with the effects of passive smoking forcing them to use the unhealthy one with a large bump (they don't really givea shit about science). To seal myself in, I burnt the skin of the pouch with a lit cigarette to make it fuse. My god it stank in there, can still smell it now. At one point I thought the bogan (type of australian redneck) scientists would discover me, but they were bogan, and if I had been discovered they would have told me I'm not being HARD enough, hiding in a kangaroo. Well, we got into space after the rocket left when they had put the Kanganaut in... shame the rocket wasnt coming down, seeing as they consider Kangaroos pests there, and it was an expensive way of killing them (Tards). I saw the moon but it wasnt that interesting really. Espionage stinks and then you die.
It had been several months now that I had been behind bars after being falsely sentenced to 20 years in prison, AKA Australia, on charges of child molesting which actually one of my close friend's had committed. I looked out of the small window in my concrete cell up at the sky, longing for that day when I could fly back home and leave this reptile covered rock.
(Aussie accent) "A'right, you got half an hour" A voice called out behind me, as I heard the usual rattling of keys, as my fellow inmates and I were let out for our daily yard time. We all shuffled out into the courtyard in a silent bunch, and wandered about for a while stretching.
"Gee, you lot here that?" said Bruce who was behind me.
"I sure do, sounds like something bouncing..." replied Bruce who was standing next to him. Bruce, who was usually silent, suddenly said:
"It's the sound of a kang...". At that very second a kangaroo appeared to fall out of the sky, instantly crushing Bruce.
"Woah," said Bruce "Would you look at that!"
"Must of jumped the perimeter fence!" added Bruce, who went up to cautiously to stroke the animal. A few moments were spent as everyone gathered in a circle around the kangaroo and gazed in amazement. After a while an idea came to me:
"Wait, do you know what this means?" I suddenly blurted out.
"What? Wait, what's your name again?" Bruce said.
"Chazlene" I replied "This means we can escape!" I continued "If this thing managed to jump in here, I'm sure it'd have no problem hopping back out again with one of us on its back!"
"There's only little problem..." said Bruce solemnly "It can only take one of us". There was a miserable murmur among the crowd as it was realised only one prisoner would be able to get out. For a few moments some of us sat in circle, discussing who should be given freedom. Finally Bruce stood up:
"Well, after much discussion we have decided, since most of us would rather stay here 'cus our homes are ridden with deadly spiders and at least it's safe here, that Chazlene should be allowed to take the kangaroo to freedom and go back to pommie land". I felt thrilled, that finally I could get the freedom I deserved, and go and prove my innocence. With that I happily hopped onto the Kangaroo, thanked everyone around me, kicked it in the side and flew out of the courtyard. I looked behind myself as I was in mid air, to see a dozen angry jail guards pouring into the courtyard, with their boomerangs whizzing past my ears. At the same time unfortunately, I also noticed that some joker had shoved a packet of fags up the critter's backside, and just then I also came to realise that the kangaroo had had quite a bit of cauliflower for his lunch (I think you can put two and two together). Shortly I experienced the high G's as we flew out of the Earth's atmosphere and to the ends of the Solar System at roughly a Billion miles per hour. Fortunately for me I had held a long full of air, and, against all the odds, me and my kangaroo were picked up by a passing space ship, at odds of 765829million:1 against, which also happened to be my phone number. But this joy and relief didn't last forever, as we were kicked off the ship through the airlock since the kangaroo had done one on the carpet and once again we found ourselves floating around in the abyss of space, until we plummeted through the thin atmosphere of the moon and landed on the satellite itself. After assessing the situation I realised how I was worse off than I was when I started, and utterly screwed. Well, it could have been worse, being stuck on the moon with a lifetime supply of cheese, a packet of fags and an Australian rodent to keep me company. Later on in my life as the moon's only resident, the amount of cheese inspired me to write a story, by burning letters with the cigarettes onto the kangaroo's hide since it had long been eaten, about how I epically defended my very own castle armed with nothing but a couple of baguettes and a plate of cheese.