Re: DEATHGAME 9000 [S!3] SIGNUPS OPEN
02-06-2012, 12:56 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by TimeothyHour.
lets pull something up from the drudges of my profile writing
“And what is your name, sir?”
“Timothy. Timothy Hour.”
“And uh, you knew the person in question?”
“Yeah, man. His name is Ulysses. Ulysses Kark. Badassest name ever, if you ask me. He goes by Ly, though. I always told him that was a stupid nickname.”
“Could you describe him for me?”
“Well, he’s really Hispanic looking. Not to sound racist, or anything. He just does. Black hair, toned skin. That sort of thing. He’s a normal height guy, and, like, a really generic voice. He’s one of those wallpaper people, despite his name, y’know? He’s a pretty level-headed and chill guy. He can take a lot of frustration before flipping the fuck out. He’s kinda calm in that frustrated way, though. He’s got to chill, before he ends up getting an ulcer.”
“Sir, uh. Stress does not cause ulcers.”
“…what?”
“Stress does not cause ulcers. It’s a common misconception.”
“Oh. Huh.”
“Anyway, Mr. Hour, would you be able to tell us about Ulysses’… unusual object?”
“You mean that vase thing?”
“Yes, Mr. Hour.”
“Ok, well, like, he bought it at a thrift store, right? He’d just moved here, and wanted some furniture for his crib. He saw this vase or urn or whatever there, and it was five bucks, and it matched the décor his place had, and he was like “What the hell, I’ll just buy it.” So he bought it.
“And then?”
“Well, like, he was carrying the urn- and man is that urn heavy, you wouldn’t believe- and he dropped it, man does it has a nasty crack from that. But like, the urn landed on its side, and a bunch of water started pouring out. It ruined Ly’s car so badly, it was such a mess. He had to borrow my scooter for a while.”
“Anything else strange about this object, Mr. Hour?”
“Let me finish, jeez. Ok, so. Like, Ly freaked out and stuff, right? I would freak out if my car was totally ruined by a flood of water. So he looks inside the urn, and it’s dry. Like, bone dry. No water or anything. Obviously Ly was all like “wtf?” y’know?”
“Mhm.”
“Anyway, like, he had an inkling of suspicion or something, because he tried tipping the urn a bit, and, what the hell, water poured out of the damn thing. Crazy, huh?”
“So, you’re saying this jar was pouring water despite being completely empty?”
“Yup! Well, sort of. It’s like, well, Ly can explain it better, he’s the one who did the research on this urn, but like one of those gods from those old-school pantheons apparently pissed in an urn one time. So like, the urn is magical, and even thought it’s never full and dry on the inside, if you pour it out you get god piss, which I guess happens to be pure water or whatever. Even then, I wouldn’t drink it. You don’t ever drink piss, believe me.”
“How did Ulysses feel about this object he had acquired?”
“He was pretty sore about it, let me tell you. I mean, it had already ruined his car, and it turned out he couldn’t move very far away from it- 30 feet without any discomfort, 35 if he’s really struggling, so he had to lug the thing everywhere. He had to be sure not to tip it over or drop it or whatever; otherwise he’d get another flood and stuff. Never really had to worry about dehydration, though.”
“And, uh, why was he unable to move away from the urn?”
“Well it turns out it was enchanted by some other god idiot to bond to the first person who buys it. When they die or whatever, it disappears and appears in some store somewhere for sale. Ly happened to be the first guy to buy his thing. He’s kind of unlucky like that.”
“And where is Ulysses now, Mr. Hour?”
“Well, um, that’s why I came to you guys. I have no idea. One day, he was just gone, along with the vase urn thing. Poof, gone. The police can’t figure out, and just now they’re getting FBI peeps on this thing. But the thing is considering his urn, and your, um, profession, I felt like you’d have more motivation to find him. He owes me like, fifty bucks.”
“Oh, yes, sir, we certainly can find your friend, don’t worry.”
The interviewer flipped the notebook closed, giving Timothy a big smile.
“Oh don’t worry, Mr. Hour. We’ll find him. Trust us. We’re already working on it.”
FONT COLOR IS FREAKING BLUE
lets pull something up from the drudges of my profile writing
“And what is your name, sir?”
“Timothy. Timothy Hour.”
“And uh, you knew the person in question?”
“Yeah, man. His name is Ulysses. Ulysses Kark. Badassest name ever, if you ask me. He goes by Ly, though. I always told him that was a stupid nickname.”
“Could you describe him for me?”
“Well, he’s really Hispanic looking. Not to sound racist, or anything. He just does. Black hair, toned skin. That sort of thing. He’s a normal height guy, and, like, a really generic voice. He’s one of those wallpaper people, despite his name, y’know? He’s a pretty level-headed and chill guy. He can take a lot of frustration before flipping the fuck out. He’s kinda calm in that frustrated way, though. He’s got to chill, before he ends up getting an ulcer.”
“Sir, uh. Stress does not cause ulcers.”
“…what?”
“Stress does not cause ulcers. It’s a common misconception.”
“Oh. Huh.”
“Anyway, Mr. Hour, would you be able to tell us about Ulysses’… unusual object?”
“You mean that vase thing?”
“Yes, Mr. Hour.”
“Ok, well, like, he bought it at a thrift store, right? He’d just moved here, and wanted some furniture for his crib. He saw this vase or urn or whatever there, and it was five bucks, and it matched the décor his place had, and he was like “What the hell, I’ll just buy it.” So he bought it.
“And then?”
“Well, like, he was carrying the urn- and man is that urn heavy, you wouldn’t believe- and he dropped it, man does it has a nasty crack from that. But like, the urn landed on its side, and a bunch of water started pouring out. It ruined Ly’s car so badly, it was such a mess. He had to borrow my scooter for a while.”
“Anything else strange about this object, Mr. Hour?”
“Let me finish, jeez. Ok, so. Like, Ly freaked out and stuff, right? I would freak out if my car was totally ruined by a flood of water. So he looks inside the urn, and it’s dry. Like, bone dry. No water or anything. Obviously Ly was all like “wtf?” y’know?”
“Mhm.”
“Anyway, like, he had an inkling of suspicion or something, because he tried tipping the urn a bit, and, what the hell, water poured out of the damn thing. Crazy, huh?”
“So, you’re saying this jar was pouring water despite being completely empty?”
“Yup! Well, sort of. It’s like, well, Ly can explain it better, he’s the one who did the research on this urn, but like one of those gods from those old-school pantheons apparently pissed in an urn one time. So like, the urn is magical, and even thought it’s never full and dry on the inside, if you pour it out you get god piss, which I guess happens to be pure water or whatever. Even then, I wouldn’t drink it. You don’t ever drink piss, believe me.”
“How did Ulysses feel about this object he had acquired?”
“He was pretty sore about it, let me tell you. I mean, it had already ruined his car, and it turned out he couldn’t move very far away from it- 30 feet without any discomfort, 35 if he’s really struggling, so he had to lug the thing everywhere. He had to be sure not to tip it over or drop it or whatever; otherwise he’d get another flood and stuff. Never really had to worry about dehydration, though.”
“And, uh, why was he unable to move away from the urn?”
“Well it turns out it was enchanted by some other god idiot to bond to the first person who buys it. When they die or whatever, it disappears and appears in some store somewhere for sale. Ly happened to be the first guy to buy his thing. He’s kind of unlucky like that.”
“And where is Ulysses now, Mr. Hour?”
“Well, um, that’s why I came to you guys. I have no idea. One day, he was just gone, along with the vase urn thing. Poof, gone. The police can’t figure out, and just now they’re getting FBI peeps on this thing. But the thing is considering his urn, and your, um, profession, I felt like you’d have more motivation to find him. He owes me like, fifty bucks.”
“Oh, yes, sir, we certainly can find your friend, don’t worry.”
The interviewer flipped the notebook closed, giving Timothy a big smile.
“Oh don’t worry, Mr. Hour. We’ll find him. Trust us. We’re already working on it.”
FONT COLOR IS FREAKING BLUE