TwelveOf8

The Battle of Sea Salt Bay

@RhythmloidSure, I can help out a little.

Be my GM

The demonic woman issued forth a guttural scream of agony. Blood was pouring from her mouth in a red and frothy waterfall. She tried to claw at Gilligan but her arms weren't quite long enough. After a couple of futile swipes she grabbed Gilligans blade and pulled herself forward. With every centimetre she made she gave a little growl of pain.

Gilligan pulled the sword back out of the demonic woman and took couple of steps back. A torrent of blood spouted from the hole where the sword skewered her. She took a few steps forward before collapsing onto the floor. The demonic woman twitched on the floor, trying in vain to resist the weakening of her dying body.

Her mouth began to move. A slight murmur could be heard. Gilligan slowly and cautiously moved closer to the demon. He bent down on both knees and bowed down, putting his left ear less than fifteen centimetres away from the demons mouth.

"My collection." she murmured.

A moment later her breathing ceased, along with her twitches. It was really such a shame, Gilligan thought to himself. He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. Sure she was a demon yeah, but really, wasn't she doing what demons did? At the end of the day though, Gilligan figured, it was either him or her. She was pretty damn dangerous, Gilligan had to admit, but still.

All of a sudden all the lights were snuffed out. The room was plunged into pitch darkness. It was like Gilligan was standing in the midst of an endless void. A loud whooshing sound emanated from all directions, like the sound of a strong wind. Oddly enough Gilligan felt no breeze.

A swirl of blue began to encircle Gilligan. What the heck was going on? He couldn't help but wonder. As quickly as it started the swirling stopped. What Gilligan saw next took his breath away.

He was standing in the middle of the giant dark hall. The only difference now was that the hall was no longer dark. It was illuminated by large schools of what looked like blue fireflies. They cast a bright neon blue light over everything. Gilligan looked around and saw what looked like statues made of crystal. They were in various positions. Some stood, others sat, some coiled in pain and fear on the floor. So pretty yet so disturbing, Gilligan thought to himself.

At the very end of the hall in front of him Gilligan could see a short set of stairs. At the top of those stairs sat a treasure chest. Behind Gilligan, at the other end of the hall, was that familiar looking limestone door. Which way did he choose to go? The decision was his.

Gilligan fell to the floor and threw up. His vomit was mixed with that strange glowing blue elixir stuff from before. The adrenalin was running out. He began to feel weak and queasy. All of Gilligans energy left him quickly. He passed out on the limestone floor.

He awoke an unknown amount of time later to discover a strange masked child rifling through his pockets. The mask looked purple with strange gold and red markings.

"Oh jip! This guys poorer than a poet on payday." said the mysterious child.

"Hey you, stop it." ordered Gilligan weakly. He was still much too drained to move, let alone sound imperious.

"You drunk her toxin didn't you, ya stupid head." mocked the mysterious masked brat.

"Hey! Shut up!" whispered Gilligan hoarsely.

"Don't worry old man. You'll be alright." placated the masked brat.

"Hey! I'm not old!" hoarsely whispered Gilligan.

"Whatever old man. And by the way, did you have any idea what that creepy demon lady was guarding!?" asked the masked brat.

The little scoundrel took out what looked like the shiniest shield Gilligan had ever seen. It was so bright, even the reflected blue firefly light blinded Gilligan.

"This is the fabled mirror shield. Said to be able to reflect projectile based magic spells, like how a mirror reflects light. Said to be forged by the gods themselves." explained the masked Brat.

"Whoa" said Gilligan.

"And now it's mine. Ya snooze ya lose gramps, nya nya." taunted the masked brat.

"Hey! Give it! That's mine!" Gilligan whispered. It was his most strained whisper yet.

Gilligan tried to move but all he could do was twitch.

"Bye old man!" chirped the masked brat cheerfully.

"I told you, I'm not...." said Gilligan.

His retort was cut short however. He passed out once again due to a severe lack of energy. Out like a light.

When he awoke however, it was in a warm bed. A plate of bread and cold meat slices sat beside him alongside a pitcher of water with an accompanying glass. It was a quaint little cottage to be sure. Quite a small cottage with a warm and cozy feel. Gilligan could see a fireplace, bookshelf, entrance to a kitchen area. Sunlight shine through the the windows. Gillian could hear the familiar calls of those chirping birds.

Gilligan wondered what time it was. Whose house it was.

All of a sudden, the front door opened. An old man walked in carrying an armful of firewood. He looked quite short but very round. His head was bald but he had a great bushy grey beard. He kinda looked like a dwarf. Who knows, maybe he was.

"Glad you're awake young squire." said the old man.

The old man placed the firewood in its pile next to the fireplace. He then made his way to where Gilligan lay, sitting in the chair next to Gilligans bed.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

Be my GM

@Cuddle PotThanks bro, or broette, or whatever.

The Battle of Sea Salt Bay

@RhythmloidThere, done!

The Battle of Sea Salt Bay

"Sure thing Corinne. Anything for you." Rolo answered.

And so they continued to cuddle whilst looking up at the sparkling twilight. The muffled sounds of music and laughter was very soothing to Rolos ears. It was like listening to a large, mostly drunken family getting along famously and having a blast. Their shindig at this hip new joint was truly the best party Rolo himself had ever been to. Way better than that party where he got lucky with his ex girlfriend for the first time. But she was gone now, and good riddance. She was probably in a dumpster somewhere, lying with the other trash, Rolo thought bitterly. But Rolo had Corinne now, which was what truly mattered.

An unknown amount of time passed when a few motorcycles pulled up out the front of the club house. A commotion could be heard between the guys at the door and these mysterious bikers. It couldn't be them, Rolo thought to himself. No way would they ever be stupid enough to take the Salt Bay Turbos on in the heart of their turf. But these were strange times for the gang after all.

"Corinne, listen to me." whispered Rolo.

"I think there's some trouble brewin with a rival gang. It'd probably the Slicks, those wannabe dweebs." Rolo explained.

"I need you to go into the girls bathroom and wait until I give the signal. I'll send some chick to give you the safe word when everything's all cool again alright?" instructed Rolo.

"What would you like the safe word to be?" asked Rolo.

The Battle of Sea Salt Bay

Posting time!

From Oscar to Rasberry — The Hilarious Film Synopsis Thread V.2

Pulp Fiction

The most badass English lesson followed by the most badass piece of relationship advice ever put to film.

Change A Single Word

Weeping Angels

Tell a story, five words at a time!

In the land before time, Littlefoot's mom, depressingly enough, died. But he had memes so all was well. Until Megatron laser cannoned the fire nation, destroying many cabbages and causing Littlefoot to become a powerful earth bender after Cera was brutally flung across the ocean. "By the power of Greyskull," the flaming homosexual wombat exclaimed, as he slipped and fell, only to be caught by a hopeless romantic trying to figure out the meaning of extraterrestrial existence in bed. Then he realized that without cheese, he could not feed his grandmother so he bought some power metal, pure cheesy goodness. However, Littlefoot was a metalbender, meaning the power metal could be bent, which would be glorious for Fire Nation. So Littlefoot challenged Megatron to a fist fight aboard the ship shaped like a cabbage. "Help me, Obi-wan!" Megatron cried, heard by a crimson eagle living in your basement furnace. Littlefoot tried to defeat Megatron by singing sweet nothings and tempting him with bacon, which was remarkably effective.

"Littlefoot," Megatron blushes, his metal lips stuck with bits of bacon while dipping some Szechuan sauce, "I surrender to your superior, the legendary Obi-wan Kenobi and his Mighty Morphing Power Rangers." Littlefoot laughed triumphantly and then said, "I am your father." Reaching out, he took Megatron's PC and downloaded Windows 10.

And then Nestor Makhno appeared.

"This! Is! Sparta!" Makhno bellowed, before stroking his mustache excitedly.

"If you say so, kid." Littlefoot replied, teleporting behind him before placing his hands on his shoulders to warmly embrace Megatron. Makhno, meanwhile, welcomed them both by performing an RKO outta nowhere. Littlefoot was stunned, but Megatron was impressed by his outstanding skillset.

"So tell me," said the man in the mirror, now twirling his hair

"No" Littlefoot unholstered his gat and immediately opened fire on his little toes by accident. Thus proving that a good set of fingers was required when you have little toes.

Makhno declared, "We must go bowling at Barney's Bowl-O-Rama. Now."

Littlefoot agreed, so they left. With all the haste of a coursing river.

Once there, Makhno spotted the Red Army. "Do you cheeki breeki, сука?"

The Red Army fired at the man in the mirror. Megatron saw this and laughed. A Tank rolled up and Makhno cried, "TANKIES!" in alarm. An Missile landed about eight inches, detonating Megatron's mechanical wiener. He needed a replacement right wiener, for two wasn't enough. The mission impossible theme started playing, and everyone started dancing the chicken dance. When winter did not come after dancing, the conga line to a white walker banquet was formed.

Count to 2018 before 2018.

Ichi