You are a FANTASTIC BIMBO. You probably have an actual name but whatever.

You and your sidekick, BIFF THE MIDRIFF, are all set for a night on the town. With your CLOAK OF VISIBILITY, your BOOTS OF POOR DECISION MAKING, your SPARKLY TOP OF POOR CHRISTIAN SENSIBILITIES, your SKIRT OF -2 SKIRT LENGTH, your six BRACELETS OF WILLINGNESS TO EXPERIMENT WITH ALL SORTS OF DRUGS, and your BRA OF OOOPS LOOKS LIKE I FORGOT TO PUT ON A BRA SILLY ME, you are completely decked out for a night of adventure in the CLUBBING DISTRICT of WEEKEND CITY.

But which club shall you attend?


It seems obvious to check out this new place, the MYSTERY BOX. However, you could always waste a few hours at ABSURDLY COMPLICATED MECHANICS. And there's no shortage of things to do at CONSTANTLY SWITCHING CHARACTERS, on account of it is fifty stories high. Then again, it's First Person Night over at ALANNA STYLE INTERACTION. You have no idea what happens to the first person, because you never show up early enough, but either way, you are attracted to the fact that you can be a part of a Night. Your final option is to put in an appearance at NONE OF THESE THINGS, PLEASE. You don't think you've ever been there before, because it's mostly underground, which strikes you as sort of skeevy, and also because NONE OF THESE THINGS, PLEASE is a terrible name for a club.

You should make a decision soon and get off the streets! It can get dangerous outside at night. Mostly, but not entirely, because after exactly 11:00 the SKATEBOARD LIONS, ROLLERBLADER GATORS, and BMXIN' HISTORICAL FIGURES come out in force.

What will you do?

Mr_Ham97, Gustave, Dragon Fogel, Baphomet, KingTwelveSixteen Wrote:Absurdly Complicated Mechanics, please.

You head into ABSURDLY COMPLICATED MECHANICS, ready for some of that hot nightclub action!


Oh yes...

This is the main reason people choose to club at ABSURDLY COMPLICATED MECHANICS.

Let nobody call you a party pooper! You quickly consume a handful of the obligatory HALLUCINOGENIC PILLS.

Ought to kick in any minute.

MEANWHILE...

Gustave Wrote:BMXin' Andrew Jackson: Slowly cruise by, staring intently. Watching. Waiting.

Ed_knott Wrote:> grab some more HALLUCINOGENIC PILLS to use them later.

g0m Wrote:>Biff: Consume pills.

You figure hanging on to a couple more can't hurt, and grab some.

KingTwelveSixteen Wrote:>Go down that hallway.

You start to head down a well-known hallway. There's some d-... Ooh.


Oh yeah, those hallucinogens are definitely kicking in.


Your ITEMIZED CHECKALOGUE appears, EQUIPMENTUDE QUADRILATERALS marking stuff you're wearing. There's, like, a couple of GAUGES you don't know the purpose of. Your IDENTIFICAPTION RETICULE has settled on one of the doors and is informing you that this is the INCREDIBLY PICKY PARSER ROOM.

You can't see your SKILLADEX yet, but it should show up soon.

KingTwelveSixteen Wrote:>Indentify the other rooms before entering one.

Your MICROCOSMIC POSITIONER loads along with your SKILLADEX (which you might only be able to use sparingly tonight, seeing as how you only have five DIGNITY DOLLARS remaining). From top left to bottom right, you see the BATMAN FETISH ROOM, the DINING CAR, the RIDICULOUS QUEST HOOKS ROOM, the FURRY ROOM, the OVERLY LONG COMBAT SEQUENCES ROOM, the ABRUPT CHANGE IN GENRE ROOM, the SAVE POINT, the PIRATES & OTHER SUCH NONSENSE ROOM, the SOBER UP ROOM, the MANAGER'S OFFICE, the INCREDIBLY PICKY PARSER ROOM, and the PLETHORA OF CAMEOS ROOM. Alcohol is served in rooms highlighted in GREEN.

You get excited and wave your arms around a little. "Easy, girl," says Biff. "Remember what happened last time."

"I don't. What happened last time?"

"Hmm... I have no fucking clue. Shit went down, though, we can be sure of that."

"Whooooooo!"

TheBoyd Wrote:Take off the BRA OF OOOPS LOOKS LIKE I FORGOT TO PUT ON A BRA SILLY ME, it's beginning to itch.

You do a pose in your PARADOX BRA THAT MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE UNLIMITED COSMIC POWERS. Comfortable and flattering!

Ed_knott Wrote:>PLETHORA OF CAMEOS ROOM

You frolick your way through the hallucinogenic haze until you reach the PLETHORA OF CAMEOS room. Whee!


Oh, looks like that knob has something to say!

"You can't come in here! Your LITERACY METER is far too low!"

Gustave Wrote:>Whatever room you pick, open the door with your prehensile cleavage.

Yeah, whatever, KNOB DUDE!

You boob-handle the knob until the door opens (expending two Dignity Dollars in the process, leaving you only three), then enter gleefully.


Alriiiiight! Party ti--!



You are confronted by a big guy in red.

Exceptional Guy W: "You are in error! Your LITERACY is INSUFFICIENT to access this BOSS! Leave this sector IMMEDIATELY or be DESTROYED!"

Ixcalibur Wrote:Flash him. I think he'll agree that your LITERACY is SUFFICENT to access this BOSS then!

Exposing your body is the best way you know to get things done, and you don't see why this situation should be any different; you quickly dequip the PARADOX BRA and CLOAK so he can get a better look, and let THE GIRLS do the talking, banking on the hope that their LITERACY is higher than yours.

Even if that wasn't a metaphor it would probably be true.

You certainly have his full attention now, as well as that of most of the other people in the room. Some of the gazes you're getting are distinctly disapproving, but with this few DIGNITY DOLLARS, that camera flash doesn't even phase you.

TheBoyd Wrote:> Sloppy Makeouts

Yes, now while he's shocked, it's time to move in for the kill.


You skip past the now DAZED AND AROUSED RED GUY, intent on heading for whatever BOSS he kept talking about. You reequip your CLOAK, but leave the OOPS BRA on for maximum bounce; a nearby VERMICIOUS KNID writes the soon-to-be-hit cheesy country song "Mamas Don't Let Your Babies Grow up to Skip in Miniskirts". Nothing can stop you now!

From behind, you hear a voice you haven't heard before shout "Wait! Not so fast!"

g0m Wrote:> WHO WAS THAT

IT WAS SPACE QUEEN THAT'S WHO



"Wait! Not so fast! I am here to make beautiful arrest to you!" THAT IS MY IMPRESSION DOES IT PLEASE YOU? OF A HUMAN, SPECIFIC THAT IS TO BE THE HUMAN POLICE OFFICER, WHICH IS LIKE A QUEEN EXCEPT INSTEAD OF LAZERS IT HAS PRIMITIVE NOT-SPACE GUNS AND INSTEAD OF IN SPACE IT IS IN A FETISHISTIC BLUE OUTFIT, THANK YOU, I AM SPACE QUEEN AND I MET ONE OF THE POLICE NOT-QUEENS AND HE SAID "Wait! Not so fast!" AND I ATE HIM WITH LAZERS, MOVING ON

"HELLO YOU SEXY ONE WHO IS NOT FROM SPACE AND HAS SEX, EW, HOW ARE YOU ENJOYING SEXY DRUG SEX PARTY? I AM UNDERSTAND NOT THE ANY OF IT. I (SPACE QUEEN) ENTER THE PLACE WITH THE SCARY ROOMS AND CARPETS, AND TAKE THE VITAMINS, AND NOW ARE ALL BARS AND SQUARES "ALL UP IN MY GRILL" AND IT IS CONFUSING, HELLO I AM SPACE QUEEN.

"NOW I GO (IN THE PAST, THAT IS LOWER IN TIME WHICH IS LIKE SPACE BUT I AM NOT THE QUEEN OF/FROM IT EXCEPT OF COURSE I AM, WHAT IS YOUR NAME SEX GIRL), I GO TO THE DOOR AND IT SAYS I HAVE THE ILLITERACIES, WHICH FRIGHTENS ME EXCEPT THE BARS AND SQUARES SAY THAT MY LITERACY METER IS HIGH, BUT NOT AS HIGH AS MY SPACE BAR WHICH IS A THOUSAND MILLION PERCENT. HAHA I USE A SPACE BAR WHENI TYPE MY BLOG, BUTSOMETIMES I FORGET, DO YOU ENJOY MY PUN, AND MY DOG. ILLITERACY IS A BIG PROBLEM IN THE SOCIETY, BECAUSE OF THE CRACKS, WHICH ARE A METAPHOR AND ALSO SNOW, WHICH IS A EUPHEMISM. I AM KILLING THESE MEN WITH MY TENTACLES I DO NOT HAVE, HELLO, HAVE YOU SEEN TIM"

You say, "H--"

"I AM TELL THE DOORKNOB THAT I DO NOT HAVE THE ILLITERACY, I HAVE A BLOG AND DO THE SPACE TWEETS FROM SPACE WITH NASA, AND HE SAID YES AND WAS VERY COURTESYLY"

"Madam," says Biff, "We--"

"AAAAH THAT FACE BETWEEN YOUR SEX ZONES MAKES TWO FACES TOO MANY, SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT I HAVE ONE TOO, HELLO OTHER SPACEQUEENFACE I AM SPACE QUEEN, WHAT IS YOUR NAME, ARE THESE YOUR TENTACLES, WHY ARE YOU SAD, DO YOU HAVE THE ILLITERACY"

But Space Queen meets with no response.

"SEX DRUG GIRL EEEEEWW, I AM IN NEED OF THE ADVICE, I GIVE ADVICE ON MY BLOG, DO YOU KNOW ANY SEX BOYS, URK

"NO I DID NOT SAY THAT IT MUST HAVE BEEN LAZERS

"HOW DOES ONE WHO IS QUEEN OR NO (I AM) MAKE RESPONSE FROM FACE OTHER WHEN--"



"Giiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirl!"



"Jormy!"
"How's it goin', Princess?"
"Heeeeeeeeeeeeey! And hi Biff."
"Hey Princess, why dontcha bend over about eighteen inches? I wanna try something."
"Oh, Biff..."
"Hey, so listen Jormy, can you loan me a couple Dignity Dollars? I wanna sexypout."
"What's a dollar?"
"Okay nevermind."
"Hey, if you ever wanna lose your dignity, Princess, why don't you--"
"Okay seriously Biff, I get a stomachache when you think dirty things, so stop it."
"...I will try."
"Yay! So Jormy, what do you wanna do?"
"I dunno, what do you wanna do?"

KingTwelveSixteen Wrote:>The SPACE QUEEN FROM SPACE clearly just wants SPACE ATTENTION so just SPACE IGNORE her.

You totally ignore that SPACE QUEEN or whatever and talk about boys and shoes.

Or maybe spoons? It's kinda hard to hear Jormungandr over all the ruckus and hallucinogens.

Speaking of which, an overexcited Biff swallows those remaining three HALLUCINOGENIC PILLS that were in your midriffventory.

Ixcalibur Wrote:SPACE QUEEN FROM SPACE: Laser some people who aren't from space because they are clearly inferior to yourself since you are from space in space and are queen of it.

"I WHO IS SPACE QUEEN AND, BEING FROM SPACE, WHY ARE YOU IGNORING DO YOU NOT SEE AND HELLO! YOU ARE THE IGNORING OF THE THAT IS ME, SPACE QUEEN, AND THE LAZERS YOU ARE TASTING NOW ARE, THOSE FROM MY (SPACE QUEEN) EYE SPHINCTERS, THANK YOU. ENRAGED DO YOU SEE I AM UNPLEASANT THAT WHICH CALLS AT ME ILLITERACY FOR MY METERS AND, HOW NOW MUCH AM I THE ABSOLUTE CENTER OF THE WORDS? THE ANSWER BEING VERY I AM SPACE QUEEN!"

TheBoyd Wrote:> Let Biff have sloppy makeouts

Normally Biff wouldn't tap something like... well, like that, but with all those hallucinogens...

...you're starting to get a tummy ache...

Ixcalibur Wrote:Even more cameos: Occur

g0m Wrote:>LASERS

"IDIOT NOT-SPACE NOT SPACE QUEENS CAN YOU NOT TASTE THE LASERS I HAVE WHICH YOU DO NOT YES? I WOULD LIKEN ALL OF YOU TO SEXUAL ORGANS (EWW) ARE YOU INSULTED NOW YES YOU ARE THAT WAS A SPACESULT OR SPACE INSULT FROM ME SPACE QUEEN. FEAR MY SPLASERS ALSO DOG YES THANK YOU."

Ixcalibur Wrote:Girl: Agress SPACE QUEEN for taking all the attention that should rightfully belong to you.

Oh it is oooooon, bitch! As soon as you enter COMBATSTYLETIMES, the TURNULAR ORDINATOR pops up. It's your move first!

Weird, in all the time you've spent at ABSURDLY COMPLICATED MECHANICS, you've never encountered a TURNULAR SLOT like that last one. Crazy!

Schazer Wrote:Punch unusual TURNULAR SLOT.

Perplexed by the ambiguity of the TURNULAR SLOT, you attempt to PIMP SLAP your TURNULAR ORDINATOR into submission.



You have wounded the ORDINATOR. It attempts to bandage the damaged area by throwing another TURNULAR SLOT over it.

Resultingly, JORMUNGANDR has entered COMBATSTYLETIMES!



Flattered that she is wanted in a combative situation (the likes of which she normally leaves to the cephalopods), JORMY switches from her CHEERLEADER GOWN ATTACHMENT to her POWER GOWN.

The mysterious TURNULAR SLOT, perhaps because you have made it your BITCH, is now resolving itself into something that looks like a face maybe?



Horror of horrors! The TURNULAR ORDINATOR now possesses its own TURNULAR SLOT! The ORDINATOR, hungry for revenge, has entered COMBATSTYLETIMES! Your mother warned you this would happen if you kept taking hallucinogens like this!

It is now BIFF's turn!

Quote Wrote:>take a laser with your feminine wiles

BIFF THE MIDRIFF has no feminine wiles to speak of! Instead he just fires a laser!



A cocktail of love, rage, stomach acids, hallucination and pure divine energy shoots out of BIFF's mouth towards SPACE QUEEN, severing her second head! You have gained the HUNGRY and x2 ALCOHOL SUSCEPTIBILITY conditions.

"SECONDFACE WHERE DID YOU GO, NOW WHAT AM I TO DO WITH THESE INFERNAL TENTACLES, PLEASE RESPOND POSTHASTE, SECONDFACE, I WILL MISS YOU FOREVER, I HATE YOU, FUCK YOU

"SECONDFACE I WOULD WEEP FOR YOU BUT THERE ARE NO TEARS IN FACE, NOR IN QUEENS, AND SO DOUBLY SO NO TEARS IN ME NOR SPACE QUEEN, ALSO I DO NOT FEEL GRIEF BECAUSE FUCK THAT SHIT. HELLO! WHEN IS SPACE QUEEN'S TURN"

It is not SPACE QUEEN's turn, it is Jormungandr's turn. Should she do some stuff, do you think?

Ixcalibur Wrote:Jor: Temporarily hallucinate that you are Midgardsormr. Use your RIDICULOUSLY HUGE GENERAL ELECTRIC MINIGUN ATTACK.

Jormungandr spends her turn hallucinating uselessly.

It is now SPACE QUEEN's turn.


"YOU WHO ARE NOT SPACE NOT QUEENS AND TRY TO HAHA PUT THE AS THEY SAY PAIN ON MY FACE WITH YOUR INFERIOR NOTSPACE LAZORS HAVE EARNED MY JOYFUL GLARE OF LUST I MEAN HATRED. NOW IT IS YOU WHO WOULD ACCEPT MOUTH WORDS ADVISED TO HIDE YOUR TENDER OTHER FACE TORSOS FOR DAMAGE HURTS TO BE MADE DONATIONS BY ME (THAT AM, SPACE QUEEN)!"

Ixcalibur Wrote:Space Queen: Retaliate by arming those nukes that you claim to have.

SPACE QUEEN's graceful appendages spring into action, quickly committing an atrocious pun arming some nukes.

The ARMED NUKES are given their own slot at the bottom of the TURNULAR ORDINATOR.

SPACE QUEEN's turn ends, and the COMBATSTYLETIMES AUTHORITERATOR increments, marking the beginning of the ORDINATOR's turn.

What's this?



That dastardly ORDINATOR spends its entire turn rearranging itself so that SPACE QUEEN can go another time!

This is so bogus.

It is now that bitchwhore SPACE QUEEN's turn again.

Ed_knott Wrote:Space Queen: Molest Jormungandr with your HUMILIATION FLAGELLA

SPACE QUEEN, noted BLOGGER and HUMILIATRIX EXTRAORDINAIRE unleashes a DEVASTATING BARRAGE OF INSULTS with her HUMILIATION FLAGELLA. Jormungandr successfully DRAMA-PARRIES, reducing the damage and stunning effect.

Ixcalibur Wrote:More cameos: Hapen.

Elsewhere, in a probably sufficiently-removed-to-be-inconsequential location...

Ixcalibur Wrote:Girl: Reveal yourself to be an unexpected master of a generic martial art. Relentlessly agress SPACE QUEEN with aforementioned martial art.

Of course you're a master of the martial arts, silly! How else would you get this body, Girls' Lacrosse? Fie upon that shit!



You launch into a FLYING KICK. SPACE QUEEN expectedly defends with her tentacles.

Ed_knott Wrote:

Gustave Wrote:Fantastic Bimbo: Prehensile Cleavage Boxing.

You are more of a WRESTLER than a BOXER. You specialize in GRABS.



You FLIP in midair and SNAG a tentacle with your PREHENSILE CLEAVAGE (knocking out a DIGNITY DOLLAR). Biff SNAGs another appendage in his... you're going to tentatively say "mouth," but you're pretty sure there used to be an umbilical cord there.

"AAAAAAAH WHAT ARE THESE THINGS THEY ARE SQUISHY YET FIRM AND I CANNOT ESCAPE THEIR GRASP

"I AM FEELING SOMEWHAT UNCLEAN THAT IS BAD DOGS MOUTHS ARE VERY CLEAN DID YOU KNOW

"I READ IT ON A BLOG THAT IS NOT AS GOOD AS MINE AAAAH HELP THIS TENTACLE THIS REALLY SUCKS

"ALSO I AM PRETTY SURE THING DOWN HERE IS NEITHER A STOMACH NOR AN ESOPHAGUS, NOR CLEAN

"STUPID SECONDFACES YOU ARE ALL SO MEAN WHY MUST YOU LEAVE ME"

Anyway, WHILE SPACE QUEEN talks to (you can only assume) herself, you FLIP back around (this is totally possible, try it sometime) and land on SPACE QUEEN's head.



Using the SNAGGED tentacles as reins, you force SPACE QUEEN to rear up, exposing her BACK 2 SPACE button. At no point does it occur to you that this is a bizarre reversal of a popular alternative pornographic situation, because that stuff is for NERDS.

It is, conveniently, now JORMUNGANDR'S turn.

Ed_knott Wrote:> Jor: Sensually press that button

Jormungandr approaches the button.



SHE SMACKS IT!



Oh, looks like it was one of those buttons you wear rather than one of those buttons you push. You know, like, to signify political affliation, or to display support for a particular cause.



"WHY DOES NOBODY APPRECIATE THE NECESSITY OF A WELL FUNDED SPACE PROGRAM?" Space Queen mourns.

"ALSO THE TENTACLE HURTS YOUR ARE TO HAVING BE WITH (AS IT TO BE) YOUR QUOTE UNQUOTE CHEST SACK REGION AND ALSO THE OTHER FACE WHICH BITES LIKE BAD DOG UNLIKE MINE, THAT IS, SPACE QUEEN DOG, NAMED SPOG AND ALSO CALLED LUCIUS I AM NOT BEING OVERPLEASED (EW) BY DEVELOPMENTS (EW) WITH THE THROBBING ERRORS PLEASE. I WILL BE THE LEAVING AND YOU CRYING BECAUSE SPACE LAZORS HAVE DESTROYED YOUR PRECIOUS OTHER FACES AS I GO AWAY AND FRIENDS WILL BE TELLING MY BIRTHDAY IT IS SO HAPPY IN SPACE THANK YOU JEEZ!"

It seems like (maybe?) you're wearing down SPACE QUEEN's morale! She (probably?) can't take much more of this!

It is now the Armed Nukes' turn.

Ixcalibur Wrote:Nuke: Prepare to detonate.

What, and waste these SICK GUNS? No thanks.

Fakeimposter Wrote:Armed Nuke> initiate a TICKLE FIGHT with Biff.

This is incredibly productive!

It is now MYSTERY TURNULAR ORDINATOR SLOT's turn. Wait, what?

Dragon Fogel Wrote:>Do something mysterious.

THERE IS NOTHING MYSTERIOUS ABOUT IT

YOU ARE RAD



BMXIN' ANDREW JACKSON HAS ENTERED COMBATSTYLETIMES

The TURNULAR ORDINATOR immediately responds to EXECUTIVE ORDER and enters DUELING MODE.



BMXAJ needs a dueling partner! Someone has to step up!

Gustave Wrote:>Biff will do it.

Quote Wrote:>The space queen's crown will do it

Ixcalibur Wrote:> Andrew Jackson's Rad BMX will do it.

Biff the Midriff seizes Space Queen's crown and Andrew Jackson's Rad BMX and takes up the former president's challenge!



You wisely stand to the side so as not to get involved.




Andrew Jackson: "CHOOSE YOUR WEAPON, MORTAL!"



Biff: "Oh, I know what I'm choosing..."

TheBoyd Wrote:> Hot Zombie Wizard

Babel;3650061 Wrote:>Hot zombie wizard, resent being objectified as a weapon

Hot Zombie Wizard resents being used as a mere tool of battle and a cheap way to add to the CAVALCADE OF CAMEOS. She treats everyone to a RANTY TIRADE, complete with sassy hand gestures; you mostly tune her out, but catch:

... if you think that I'll just go along with this asinine... even make any goddamn sense anymore... bad shoes, too...

She teleports away again, but before Biff can pick a new weapon the TURNULAR JERKINATOR advances him and BMXIN ANDREW JACKSON to DUELYTYPE TILE 1, sending him into DUELSTRIFE.

Ed_knott;3650133 Wrote:> Struggle in the foreverblood

Biff arrives in a MYSTERIOUS AND UNSETTLING DIMENSION apparently made of ETERNALLY FLOWING BLOOD; he has no WEAPON, no LIMBS, and a NEARLY-LETHAL AMOUNT OF HALLUCINOGENS coursing through him. ANDREW JACKSON levels an OLD-FASHIONED LOOKING FIREARM at him.

Uh hello, prepare to be exterminated.

What the fudge burgers kind of messed up duel is this?