We are takin’ it back! Woot! 
It’s alive. ALIVE!!!
Great job Lucky. I’d laugh but I’m in a room full of stuffed shirts. Frak it, I’ll laugh anyway. Glad to see this back.
Ok. <cracks knuckles> let’s see if I still got it. Here is my passage:
Meanwhile, Roslin is studying the scrolls and solves ‘Da Vinci Code’
“Machine gun jubblies?” Adama asked, “How did I miss those, baby?”
“It’s called foreplay” Roslin responded, “not that we have…you know…”
“Wait a frakking minute!” Tigh exclaimed. If you have machine gun jubblies, that makes you a hybrid!"
Cottle rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Don’t be ridiculous, they are not implanted…they are a support mechanism. Like a bra, they push and lift.”
Everyone looked at Cottle for a moment dumbfounded.
“Or, so I’ve read.” Cottle said sheepishly.
“Gentlemen,” Adama said raspily, “can you give us a moment here?”
Cottle and Tigh nodded and excused themselves. Once they were out of earshot Adama turned and looked at Laura with concern.
“You said you had something important you wanted to discuss.”
“Yes” Laura responded leaning to her left and picking up an ancient volume, “I was reading Pythia the other day…”
“I thought we agree no more reading Pythia!” Adama groaned.
“I know, but I can’t help it. It speaks to me, it is like it was written for me.”
Adama sighed. “What have you discovered?”
“Well” Laura opened to a marked page. "Listen to this:
“and unto the dying leader appeared a holy cup filled with blood as a sign of things to come. And lo, for it is said that the cup is but a metaphor for something else, like a woman, a wife of a god of the thirteenth tribe.”
“What does it mean?” Adama asked puzzled.
“I am not sure…” Laura pondered, “but it leaves me kind of hungry. What is for supper? Last night’s supper was awful…flambe algae.”
Nicely played with the Da Vinci thingy.
Blame it on insomnia, breaking up with the GF, or whatever, but last night I was bored so I thought it would be nice to see some more light hearted stuff get back onto the board.
Nice job Solai, so who’s next? FT, Thot, Wisebob, or Audra?
…except for the… three words in Chuck barged in to Emily’s dream, and danced Macarena with a lampshade wearing centurion housekeeper who was Sean’s new crime-fighting sidekick.
Pythia sat in the mountains on Kobol. The cave echoed with a sharp shrill sound. “Oh, not again.” Pythia placed her hands in the stream. A metallic voice resonated, “and unto the dying leader appeared a holy cup filled with blood as a sign of things to come. And lo, for it is said that the cup is but a metaphor for something else, like a woman, a wife of a god of the thirteenth tribe.” Pythia sighed, “They always get that wrong. Lost in translation or a desire for some other meaning. Gods, you write something after bad Aerilon and it creates such a mess.”
Pythia caressed the rocks in the stream to adjust the signal. Searching for the original text to find meaning, “What was I talking about? If only I’d known this would have been taken so seriously. You start dreaming about stuff and then…oh…here it is.” Pythia frowned. “Like a woman? Like a woman!?! That’s not what I wrote. Who changed that? Frakkin scribes copy scrolls and fall asleep then pick up where they left off. How can you even trust anything? Great Zeus!!” Pythia scanned the text, “It’s not like a woman. It’s tub of goo!! How did they get that wrong? ‘It’s a metaphor for a tub of goo holding the voice of god of the thirteenth tribe.’”
Abruptly, Pythia sensed a change in the currents of space and time. Pythia decided to follow them to whatever end. Before her, a vision unfolds. Chants of ‘Tory sucks’ and ‘Helo rocks’ echo throughout. In a room filled with smoke and flashing lights, a giant mirrored globe hangs from the ceiling. It rotates and sparkles creating hundreds of stars. Pythia wondered what this vision might reveal. An incredibly infectious beat thumped and a white-haired and bearded man entered. Was this a god? His movements were repetitive and rhythmic. It was enchanting and disturbing. An ancient centurion joined him and wore a red tasseled fixture on its head. The fixture teetered back and forth and distracted Pythia from seeing that the centurion was holding a feathered-top apparatus and a broom.
The ceiling exploded and several ropes extended from the roof. Black-suited individuals slid down the ropes and surrounded the white-bearded god and centurion. Suddenly, a door on the far end of the room exploded and a blinding white light pierced the room. A shadowy figure stood at the center of the light. His shirt was brown, sleeve-less and had a message imprinted on it, ‘Chewie is my co-pilot’. The scene erupted in motion. The shadow moved with incredible speed flipped through the air and landed on top of the centurion. The centurion spun and extended its weapons. Bodies flew everywhere. The combatants were no match for this trio.
The white haired god grabbed two black-suited warriors and ran through a wall. The opening revealed a bar. The bundle of bodies crashed into the drunk blonde man. Around Cavil’s skeevy mouth formed a smile. Kara raised the pipe high over her head and screamed, “Now that’s what I call a frakkin party!!”
Nicely done on both your posts FT; they both made me laugh. I especially like Tigh on the game show, and ending it with a quote from “Apocalypse Now.”
Hang on travelers…we are back in business
The magical pants that the Wizard gave to the young woodsmith’s apprentice. Suddenly, the codpiece began to glow and wiggle like Menudo on amphetamines
Weariness weighed down on his chest. Even as the usual whirring of drills and banging of hammers filled the air the mood on the flight deck was somber. The hope of Earth in an instant wiped away, a radioactive hunk of rock…the thing they all had lived for so long, gone.
Wizard breathed in deep and rubbed the crown of his nose leaving a smear of grease. The wrench felt heavier in this brave new world. What was the point of working on the Viper? What was the point of waking up in the morning? Without Earth as a dream, a goal, why even put on his flight suit? Tomorrow was meaningless, the future, nothing.
From behind him somewhere a chipper voice called out, “Gray, hey man, need a hand?” It was Fernando. Even given his mood Gray found himself with a half-cocked smile on his face. Fernando was new to the deck and contained what appeared to be limitless enthusiasm. He had studied long and hard to achieve his apprenticeship with Chief Woods and Petty Officer Smith, he wasn’t going to let a petty thing like the hopes of humanity being dashed going to get him down.
“Pass me that spanner, runt” Gray said not moving his eyes from the underbelly of the Viper. Apprentices were referred to as runts, a time old tradition in the forces. “Sure thing!” Fernando retorted, bounding off. “To be 14 again,” Gray thought ruefully. He couldn’t help but notice that the deck hands were getting younger. New Caprica had decimated the numbers of the deck gang. There seemed to be an inverse proportion to the number of regular civilians and soliders to skilled engineers that disappeared without a trace. After the escape from New Caprica and things started getting back to normal it soon became clear there was issue…there were jobs on the deck that couldn’t be done because no one knew how to do them. The apprenticeship program was initiated to help fill the void. Even Chief…wait, Galen, not the Chief. That was still strange. Gray glanced across the deck to see Tyrol instructing a group teenagers on welding techniques and basic avionics.
Gray’s reverie was broken by the sudden reappearance of Fernando holding the out the spanner, still smiling. “Runt, is there a problem with your deck suit? Why are you in your civies?” Suddenly for the first time Fernando’s smile wavered slightly. Gray turned his head to meet his eyes, “What’s wrong runt?”[/SIZE]
Fernando closed his eyes and breathed deep. “There are none left.”
“What do you mean there are none left? No deck suits?”
“None left.” At the corner of his eyes tears started to well up. “After all my work, all my study I finally made it to the deck…and they have no suits left.”
Gray understood. The deck suits were the right of passage, the badge of honor for the runts…the reward and symbol of their apprenticeship. To wear a deck suit meant you had made it, you were chosen. Gray breathed in deep, rolled out from under the Viper and stood up. “Hold on,” he said standing up and wiping off his hands, “I’ll be right back.” Gray strode over to Galen and stood at the periphery waiting for a moment to present itself.
Galen looked up at Gray furrowing his brow. “What’s up Wizard?”
“Chief, you got a second?”
One of the runts looked up at Gray surprised, “Sir, he’s no longer the…” Gray’s glare at the runt cut off the statement midair.
“Sure Wizard. Guys, you know what to do. Buddy up and practice the technique on whatever scrap you can get your hands on.” Tyrol left the group behind and he and Gray walked over to a quiet area, “What’s up?”
Gray looked at Tyrol, “First off, how are you doing?”
Tyrol began to say something, stopped and took a moment. “It’s hard, man. I’m so confused.
Sometimes I am so sure of who I am…then I remember that I am…”
“You are Chief Galen Tyrol,” Gray said sternly. “A member of this crew and my friend.”
Tyrol’s eyes went wide. He nodded to himself and put his hand on Gray’s shoulder. “Thank you.” He looked up and smiled. “Thank you.”
“Anytime runt.” They both laughed. “So, I had a favor…”
“Anything, anything…what do you need?”
“It’s a big favor.”
“What is it?”
“Cally’s deck suit.”
Tyrol breathed in quickly. “Wait. What?" He looked up confused. "Why?”
Gray tilted his head towards Fernando. “The runt needs it, and he deserves it. It isn’t doing any good hanging in her locker and as long as it isn’t in use you are going to think about it hanging in there. You need to let it go.”
Tyrol took a moment as his hand fell back to his side. He closed his eyes considered himself rubbing the back of his head. He looked back to Gray and slowly nodded.
“Ok. You are right. The kid needs it and it isn’t doing any good just hanging there.” Tyrol swallowed, and moving with a speed to indicate if he didn’t perform this act immediately he would change his mind he walked over to the lockers reached for Cally’s locker. Momentarily his hand paused before the latch…but quickly as if it were hot he pulled it open not looking at the pictures and artifacts taped to the door. Pulling the deck suit out a little too fast he snapped the emergency light stick that hung from the belt, breaking it.
“Here you go” Tyrol said as the glowing substance spread. Gray knew that if he didn’t accept the suit immediately the moment could be lost. He took it with reverence and said, “Thanks Galen.”
“Don’t mention it” Tyrol responded. Without a further word he crossed the deck back to his runts.
Gray looked over to his Viper where Fernando stood. Having watched the entire exchange his eyes showed he understood what had just happened and what it meant. As Gray turned and began walking towards him the smile on Fernando’s face returned and he began bouncing as if he had taken an entire pack of stims.
Gray stood before him and looked Fernando in the eyes. “You deserve this Fernando” and handed him the suit. “I’m sorry it might be a little too big.”
“That doesn’t matter…I’ll cuff the sleeves and roll up the pant legs. I’ll grow into it.”
“Ok runt, if there is nothing else.”
“No sir!” Fernando exclaimed as he ran off embracing the deck suit to his chest.
Gray surveyed the flight deck once more. There was still a pallor that hung over the whirring and bangs of the deck, but somehow things seemed somehow different. Perhaps he let the hope of a boy who felt there would be time to grow into an oversized deck suit sway him, or maybe it was something else. He shook his head and rolled back underneath the Viper recommencing his work and letting himself for the first time think about tomorrow.
It lives! It lives!
Yay!! I was thinking about this thread when Em created a new three word game. Awesome Solai! When I get a chance I’ll add an addition.
I’m working on this one.
This wasn’t supposed to be violent but the zipper on the sequined pants began to slide slowly over the glowing junk, as a random hobo watched from afar.
Galen sat on the bench in front of Callie’s locker and watched Gray exit. Silence filled the room in contrast to the turmoil in Tyrol’s mind. An image of Callie’s wired-jaw beaten face flashed and Tyrol placed his head in his hands. Images continued, saving Callie on New Caprica, the birth of Nicky, the anguish in her eyes when she confronted him about his true self. Galen yelled and attacked the locker. His rage unleashed, as the contents of the locker fell to the ground. He punched the mirror and shards of glass trickled over the articles of clothing. He collapsed and wept.
His tears fell and mingled with the pile on the floor. The phosphorescence from the light stick that he had broken when handing Wizard the deck suit had started to drip from the bottom of the locker and onto a pair of pants. The pants were covered with broken glass and sparkled. Galen followed the flow of the liquid. There was something sticking out of one of the zippered pockets. Galen reached down and removed the object. It was a picture of Hotdog.
Tyrol’s face contorted. Why would Callie have a picture of Costanza in her pocket?
Anders had just returned from patrol and heard the commotion in the locker room. He did not wish to disturb Tyrol. As he watched, his own emotions raged. He had lost so many friends on Caprica. He had made a life with Kara but she had since rejected him. He did not feel comfortable with embracing his cylon heritage having fought them for so long. He thought finding Earth would reveal some answers and the possibility of a home. He felt alone and abandoned.
Jesus Jumping Josephine!! This thread is back from that dead, AGAIN!!
Hooray!! I was re-reading this thread the other day. Pretty cool stuff!
Excellent. Hot Dog as the junk, Anders as the Hobo.
Very nice.
Looks like you may have pasted twice, looks like the story repeats.
I mean, I realize all of this has happened before and will happen again, but…
Woot! We are back baby! Well done 'talos!
I wish I had meant that. But gives me an idea in the future.
I’m too lazy. Can someone point me to the original Three Wrod Story thread?
I guess I should do my part and take the next segment…
I remember that the “Wrod” mispelling was part of the thread name, and Chuck joked he’d never change that.
The really funny part of that was the same day Chuck announced they were never going to change that I finally had gone in and corrected it. Halfway through listening to podcast I heard Chuck’s declaration, yelled, “Craaaaaaaaaap!” went in and changed is back to wrod.
Anything Goes
http://forum.galacticwatercooler.com/showthread.php?t=5404
BSG style
http://forum.galacticwatercooler.com/showthread.php?t=1196
Thaannnnk You
Just post what part you’re working on so we don’t all tackle the same section at the same time.