h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

*deth glances at the blinding flash in the sky*

[deth] pintos....

*resumes fighting stance*

[Yo]Lock on targets and fire



[Yo] Ok Chief, lets put us on the roof...

[First Mate] Countermeasures station, on my mark, 5..4..3..2..1.. RELEASE COUNTERMEASURES! Emergency boost!

*deth breaks his stance and simply stares at the two non-responsive soldiers*

[deth] how boring.... *stands patiently awaiting some sign of life*

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*NYC watches Deth's body wander randomly about. Just then, stray fire from one of the ships overhead hits one of the orbitting Ford Pontos, rupturing its gas tank and causing a nice pyrotechnic explosion. A bumper falls to earth and lodges itself firmly into the ground about two feet from NYC*

wow...

*NYC leaves Deth's body to its own devices, and tackles the green evillene*

*smash*

*punch*

*kick*

*slap*

*smack*

is there really any need for me to add a posting?

No, but don't let THAT stop you!

I wont, incidently the RAGs are the RAGNAROCKs, to see my one go to............erm I've fogotten, look at my guide entries

[Suddenly, on Emar/Zeb's IRL computer, a fifteen-ish boy leans out of the screen]

[Dylan] [he has a deep-ish voice and an American accent] You aren't allowed to take control of another person's character. Besides, you spelled Thrani's name wrong. Still, I take back the CONTINUITY note. And you got SOME Chiss ... but you can't get them all! [high-pitch] VWEE-HEE-HEE-HEE! [smacks him with a white glove and disappears in a puff of bad special effects]

[Meanwhile, instead of disobeying orders, that dwip Zeb mentioned earlier was blasted to bits by one of Zeb's rockets. And the debris knocked into Y3C.]

[Y3C] Oh bugger ... [pushes a red button]

[He collides with Zeb's ship and gets wedged there. Three.]

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awww sod it

Damn simupost.

Anyway, we're not running a particularly continuity-stringent fight, here. All I did was:

A: Have you're ships break off, while leaving the opportunity for you to resume you're attack at anytime.

B: Kill off some bit-character that **I** came up with.

As you can see, the only real issue was 'A', and it wasn't a big deal.

what he said

[DA (flying)]#French accent# Hahah! You not-cultured seelly American-types, 'oo 'ave not watched zee Monty Python! Your bruzzer plants potatoes, and your seester paints zee Russian-type dollys! Go and lick bottoms, you bottom-lickers!

[Meanwhile]

The book lies innocently on the ground, open halfway through, cover up. There is a picture of a circus on the front. Sea approaches a little more. (BTW, a meter equals a yard, roughly.)

[More Meanwhile...]

Vasquez, from Aliens, clambers up from a heating-vent shaft set in the earth. She is wounded and bleeding, and her skin is stained with dirt and acid-stains. With one hand she presses the boom-mike to her mouth, with the other she controls the framework-mounted smartgun. Ducking and weaving, she runs through the crowd of combatants, taking cover behind blasted tree-stumps and rocks.

[Vasquez(yelling)]...by fives! On bearing eighty-two, GET YER ASS HERE!! [pause - crackle] They're f****n' GONE, ASSHOLE! Squad dispersed - DRAKE, COVER!! [She lays down a roaring burst of fire - everyone ducks. Swinging an arm forward she sprints around a hard corner, knocking DA to the floor. She braces her back against a tree.] Target!! Twelve, twelve, twelve! DIETRICH! Where the hell ARE YOU! SOMEONE GET THE INCINERATORS UP HERE! TARGET!! [She points the smartgun at Angelo Deth - with a juddering roar she fires on him.]

[SuperBard - you with STUMPED or CHOPPERS?]

*BACK TO THE AIR BISCUIT. THIS TIME, THE SHUTTLE BAY*

UH: Goddammit, Lord High Admiralissimo Zeb and his crew appear to have forgotten our (and our torpedos) existence. Lets give them a shock, maties.

bo'sun: Aye-aye cpn. There are a lot of Star wars-o-philes here. goodness. thank Bob they don't like star trek.

UH: Dear bob yes. amen to that. Shiver me timbers.

*The Air Biscuit swings around and latches onto the Iconoclast destroyer, snapping off all the poncey bits of guilt baroque sculpturing. The boarding party prepares itself for some ship to ship combat*

[no one ruin this moment - I want a showdown. Capische?]

Uhhhh... What just happened there?

Listen Heavy, we remembered all about your torpedoes. They hit us. We reacted. Then we had to deal with these irksome Chiss. End of story.

You want a showdown? Get in here and board us then, cause we've been firing on you this whole time (only our light defensive weapons were brought to bear on the fighters. YOU had the honor of receiving our main battery attacks. Check the backlog.)

Hey Emar...calm down...this is only a game...lighten up...chill Winston...Chill...my computer keeps crashing so its a tad irritating wading thru page after page of backlog...

Hey Emar...calm down...this is only a game...lighten up...chill Winston...Chill...my computer keeps crashing so its a tad irritating wading thru page after page of backlog...

I wasn't freaking out, it just looks like it because I hardly ever use smileys. But seriously, initiate boarding; I'm ready!