Showing posts with label Badger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Badger. Show all posts
Wednesday, 30 November 2011
Gerald the Giraffe - Killing badgers since 2002.
This is a story about Gerald, a lowly giraffe living on an island in a pond in a park, while not a very exciting story or even a coherent one, it does feature such words as giraffe and badger.
One day, Gerald, while he was ensconced in his usual daily routine of badger killing and poking human babies with severed cat tails decided that today would be the day that he would reach the milestone of 1000 badgers killed in the month of September (a record he has actually achieved and in several cases, beaten, every single month since the badger outbreak on 2001) so off he went to the badger shelter.
A little info on the shelter, its sort of like a farm, you know? It's also a warehouse, hotel, diner, work force, employment office and secret government run exclusively by badgers for the public to observe. Gerald goes here on a weekly basis in order to fulfill his quota of dead badgers, he needs to do this, not out of necessity but out of rage, anger and spite. Today's shop started out the same way as usually, upon entering the shop, Gerald would ask for directions and then stomp upon the employee until there was nothing but and hoof print made of blood and hair on the floor, this time however, the badger was in armor, an odd occurrence to be sure but Gerald proceeded with his routine. Next up was the gathering, a ritual whereby no less than 120 badgers are placed in a container which can hold no more than 122.
Gerald was only able to find 43 on his first pass, but quickly captured the scurrying buggers on his second pass. It was on this pass that he ran into Bossu, a small rabbit like being with only one nostril and bright pink fur, Bossu is possibly gay but there is no conclusive evidence to state that as a fact. Anyhoo, Bossu suggests that Gerald head up to the upper floors of the farm as there is some sort of general meeting taking place. The upper floors, while usually off limits are fairly quiet, too quiet and before Gerald can react he is taken captive.
14 days pass by and Gerald is still in a holding cell, being a giraffe, his neck is about 24 foot long and he is in a room that 7 foot tall, if you were to look in from outside there pretty much wall to wall giraffe squashed in there. As it turns out, the badgers had decided enough was enough and stopped Gerald in his tracks, their goal is to keep him confined until a suitable punishment.
During this time, Bossu, who had watched the entire event transpire was planning a break out, however, someone landed a helicopter on him and that's the end of that.
Another 40 days pass and Gerald is still stuck and the badgers are still scheming but they come to a conclusion: the same fate that many of their comrades have faced countless times before, they take Gerald outside and jump on him, every badger in the world jumps in until theres nothing left but red and white fur and faint laughter of Gerald's final words echoing in the wind...
...And that kids, is how Christmas and New Years came to be.
One day, Gerald, while he was ensconced in his usual daily routine of badger killing and poking human babies with severed cat tails decided that today would be the day that he would reach the milestone of 1000 badgers killed in the month of September (a record he has actually achieved and in several cases, beaten, every single month since the badger outbreak on 2001) so off he went to the badger shelter.
A little info on the shelter, its sort of like a farm, you know? It's also a warehouse, hotel, diner, work force, employment office and secret government run exclusively by badgers for the public to observe. Gerald goes here on a weekly basis in order to fulfill his quota of dead badgers, he needs to do this, not out of necessity but out of rage, anger and spite. Today's shop started out the same way as usually, upon entering the shop, Gerald would ask for directions and then stomp upon the employee until there was nothing but and hoof print made of blood and hair on the floor, this time however, the badger was in armor, an odd occurrence to be sure but Gerald proceeded with his routine. Next up was the gathering, a ritual whereby no less than 120 badgers are placed in a container which can hold no more than 122.
Gerald was only able to find 43 on his first pass, but quickly captured the scurrying buggers on his second pass. It was on this pass that he ran into Bossu, a small rabbit like being with only one nostril and bright pink fur, Bossu is possibly gay but there is no conclusive evidence to state that as a fact. Anyhoo, Bossu suggests that Gerald head up to the upper floors of the farm as there is some sort of general meeting taking place. The upper floors, while usually off limits are fairly quiet, too quiet and before Gerald can react he is taken captive.
14 days pass by and Gerald is still in a holding cell, being a giraffe, his neck is about 24 foot long and he is in a room that 7 foot tall, if you were to look in from outside there pretty much wall to wall giraffe squashed in there. As it turns out, the badgers had decided enough was enough and stopped Gerald in his tracks, their goal is to keep him confined until a suitable punishment.
During this time, Bossu, who had watched the entire event transpire was planning a break out, however, someone landed a helicopter on him and that's the end of that.
Another 40 days pass and Gerald is still stuck and the badgers are still scheming but they come to a conclusion: the same fate that many of their comrades have faced countless times before, they take Gerald outside and jump on him, every badger in the world jumps in until theres nothing left but red and white fur and faint laughter of Gerald's final words echoing in the wind...
...And that kids, is how Christmas and New Years came to be.
Saturday, 8 December 2007
Spoons of the Ages
Quite a fitting title for what I am about to write about, since I've not wrote anything for a while because of what I'm about to write about...errr
So then, without further ado, I present "Spoons of the Ages - One Argonian and a Silver Spoon" which will not be in story format, but rather a tale of what happened and why it ultimately ended the life of a poor Argonian. By the way, this is about The Elder Scrolls 4 - Oblivion, just had to make that clear as my rambling may have missed that completely.
It all started in the town of Bravil, a run down dump, it was ideal for my Argonian due to the amount of water and people to steal from, rather it was until I murdered everyone I could lay my dagger into, still, that left a lot of empty, locked houses to case which is where the true story begins - How much do the Guards care?
I decided to test this theory, since there was no one to beat up bar punching rats in their stupid furry faces, I broke into one house and stole one item, a silver spoon, I then took it across the world to Chorrol and spoke to a guard.
Completely ignoring the fact that I had my dagger out and all the corpses around me, the guy took the logical step of trying to arrest me for stealing a spoon, now, I'm not sure how far telepathy goes, but I'm pretty sure none of the murdered people told them of my glorious deed and I'm sure the guards didn't send out a signal to alert everyone in the world of said deed. Perhaps everyone in Tamriel have their belongings electronically tagged for safety and convenience, yet they don't care when I stab them multiple times in the face.
I decide to go to jail and see what all the fuss is about, it seems a quite cosy place, no one else around though, I seem to have a lockpick that I decide to not use as it is late and my murdering has made me tired.
I get out and seem to have suffered some ability changes, it's hard to care though, a bit of anger rises in me so I stab a few rats to vent it out, which brings up another point, I was arrested, thrown in jail for a few days (spoon crime is a growing threat in a world where people cant use their mouths anymore) yet I get released with all my armor and the blood covered dagger I used to kill everyone with, not that I mind, saves me time looking for another.
I enter the Imperial City and see that there is one man walking around (not a clone guard) and I come to the conclusion that he was the one who squealed, I follow him for 13 days, learning his route, finding his house and taking on his habits. I break into his house one day while he is doing his daily wall staring exercises, and steal all of his belongings, right down to the blueberries he had on the table and the raw meat on the plates. I leave to punch some deer in the forests and return 3 days later, the guy isn't at his usual places so I go to his house. It seems that taking everything he had was just too costly and the urge to feed had came over him, his tables were full of fruit and meat, just lying there, uncooked and without a plate with just a spoon to eat with. I go outside and wait, his misery shall end tonight, the last man in the province and he has to use a spoon to eat raw meat with, it's a pitiful life. Being kind (heh) I go back in and steal what he has replaced and place one poisoned apple on his table, I go out and wait again, 2 days pass and the apple is still there, the man is nowhere to be found until by a freak chance I find him in a bush, dead, with 9 arrows in him, he was a hunter, and judging by the corpse of the forester near him, they had an epic battle, each was pierced with arrows, each left for the wilds...
I am now the last person alive (and this being the 360 version I can't use the mods that allows you to kill quest people) it's a lonely life so I head to his house, I leave a parchment and quill on his desk after pretending to write my confession and proceed to eat the poisoned apple, the effect takes hold, I fall back over the stool, dead.
This Argonians tale is over, next time they will all die by the warhammer of a frosty Nord named Alfred Bestlo...
All in all, that seems pretty crap now I'm looking at it, but I'm not bothered.
So then, without further ado, I present "Spoons of the Ages - One Argonian and a Silver Spoon" which will not be in story format, but rather a tale of what happened and why it ultimately ended the life of a poor Argonian. By the way, this is about The Elder Scrolls 4 - Oblivion, just had to make that clear as my rambling may have missed that completely.
It all started in the town of Bravil, a run down dump, it was ideal for my Argonian due to the amount of water and people to steal from, rather it was until I murdered everyone I could lay my dagger into, still, that left a lot of empty, locked houses to case which is where the true story begins - How much do the Guards care?
I decided to test this theory, since there was no one to beat up bar punching rats in their stupid furry faces, I broke into one house and stole one item, a silver spoon, I then took it across the world to Chorrol and spoke to a guard.
Completely ignoring the fact that I had my dagger out and all the corpses around me, the guy took the logical step of trying to arrest me for stealing a spoon, now, I'm not sure how far telepathy goes, but I'm pretty sure none of the murdered people told them of my glorious deed and I'm sure the guards didn't send out a signal to alert everyone in the world of said deed. Perhaps everyone in Tamriel have their belongings electronically tagged for safety and convenience, yet they don't care when I stab them multiple times in the face.
I decide to go to jail and see what all the fuss is about, it seems a quite cosy place, no one else around though, I seem to have a lockpick that I decide to not use as it is late and my murdering has made me tired.
I get out and seem to have suffered some ability changes, it's hard to care though, a bit of anger rises in me so I stab a few rats to vent it out, which brings up another point, I was arrested, thrown in jail for a few days (spoon crime is a growing threat in a world where people cant use their mouths anymore) yet I get released with all my armor and the blood covered dagger I used to kill everyone with, not that I mind, saves me time looking for another.
I enter the Imperial City and see that there is one man walking around (not a clone guard) and I come to the conclusion that he was the one who squealed, I follow him for 13 days, learning his route, finding his house and taking on his habits. I break into his house one day while he is doing his daily wall staring exercises, and steal all of his belongings, right down to the blueberries he had on the table and the raw meat on the plates. I leave to punch some deer in the forests and return 3 days later, the guy isn't at his usual places so I go to his house. It seems that taking everything he had was just too costly and the urge to feed had came over him, his tables were full of fruit and meat, just lying there, uncooked and without a plate with just a spoon to eat with. I go outside and wait, his misery shall end tonight, the last man in the province and he has to use a spoon to eat raw meat with, it's a pitiful life. Being kind (heh) I go back in and steal what he has replaced and place one poisoned apple on his table, I go out and wait again, 2 days pass and the apple is still there, the man is nowhere to be found until by a freak chance I find him in a bush, dead, with 9 arrows in him, he was a hunter, and judging by the corpse of the forester near him, they had an epic battle, each was pierced with arrows, each left for the wilds...
I am now the last person alive (and this being the 360 version I can't use the mods that allows you to kill quest people) it's a lonely life so I head to his house, I leave a parchment and quill on his desk after pretending to write my confession and proceed to eat the poisoned apple, the effect takes hold, I fall back over the stool, dead.
This Argonians tale is over, next time they will all die by the warhammer of a frosty Nord named Alfred Bestlo...
All in all, that seems pretty crap now I'm looking at it, but I'm not bothered.
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