Yes my dears, old A.A. isn't going to be posting today. Seems that Christo wasn't quite dead as A.A. found out when he was burnt to a crisp. While he can regenerate right here and not in our home plane thanks to a complicated series of spells (One of which I invented, a fact which I will never let him forget) that let him do just that, it isn't... quite perfect**. Specifically, it resurrects him feet first, rather than head first as usual. This is way more significant than you'd think, given that there's more governing one can do as a severed head than a severed foot***
So, I had to spend several days searching for his grand "Don't Give Up Hope" villain-speech, which I eventually found in the shapeshifter's "Fun Drawer" (For the love of the God's, DON'T ASK!). Let me tell you, it was a shitstorm in that time, chaos reigning across the blocks, the shapeshifter robbing liquor stores in the shape of a giant penis (Don't ask what he shot them with if he refused), Christo getting some of our best human minions sent to the clink, the Trogre hurling statues all the way across town in tears.
The bribes to make everyone "just forget it" put a massive dent in our money stockpile, the Shapeshifter is still stewing it out in the "Pit O' Melty Halloween Decorations Blob" and the use of Giants Growth on a bunny helped the Trogre. Those minions are still in prison though, and Christo's still out there. I actually think he got a hand on one of his spellbooks, which is a sign to watch out for.
But it's still amazing how well we managed to snap back. Nobody died****, which just goes to show the power of that villain speech, and everyone was surprisingly willing to ignore us. You people on Earth are either really stupid, really oblivious, or really jaded. Probably a combination of all three. And I do think that that Christo picked up A.A.'s Book of Vile Darkness. And, while A.A. isn't gonna be happy with this, there's no way he's gonna actually use the damn thing. At least I hope.
Well, this was a rather dull recap. Maybe tomorrow I'll give you a bit more of the juicy details about the speech and tell you a bit more about myself, seeing as A.A. refuses to do either. Not like he's gonna object to it, given he's currently a pair of shinbones and feet. Adieu!
* One of which I invented, a fact which I will never let him forget
**Thanks to me not working out the kinks in that spell when I first made it, a fact which he will never let me forget)
*** Plus, as I discovered with a former employer, a regenerating lich also works great as a phony demilich!
**** Though the Drow got winged in the leg a bit. He's trying to convince me to turn it into a spider leg. Eugh.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Friday, July 15, 2011
No Sympathy for the Devil
HA! I BEAT THAT FUCKER! I BEAT CHRISTO! His wrestling holds were no match for the sheer brute force of the Trogre raining down upon his puny pate*. He was half-dead when the Trogre threw him in a flooded wash, and nobody could possibly survive that! Of course, every time I've said that, they have survived, so I'll be keeping an eye out.
Anyway, I've been studying up on Demonology, specifically in your Ars Goetia, and man your demons are weird. I mean, their powerset is... scattered. On one hand they give you cheap divination tricks; making nice between friends; Doctor Dolittle** bullshit and; of all things; SCIENCE TEACHING. All these fail to impress me, given that I can do that crap with one hand tied behind my back.
On the other hand you have stuff like Baelful Polymorph, blowing up battleships with the weather, infesting every arrow you shoot with plague, causing castles to burst into flames, and other great nonsense like that. So your Hell's priorities are either really unfocused, or its demons are idiots. And plus, the stupid book says to rely on God's power to bind the demons instead of doing it your own damn self. This is proof that the writer was a massive pussy.
And speaking of massive pussies, let's talk about your head evil, this "Satan" you talk so much about. What a whiner. Everything I've read around on him has him bitching about "Oh, I wanna go back to heaven" or "Oh, humanity doesn't deserve God's awesomitude" and blah blah blah. Asmodeus never did any of that shit. He worked his ass off to get the same sort of hell that punk got for free, and when he did he didn't whine about being kicked out of heaven***. He just rolled up his sleeves and got to the business of taking souls.
But, since these guys are your worlds demons, I suppose it would be good to strike up a rapport with them, I'm thinking I'll contact Furfur and Baphomet. Furfur because, hey, he has lots of storm powers****, which'll come in handy in this parched desert craphole. Baphomet because I like his style. I mean, subverting an entire order of paladins (Albeit weakass ones without any powers) to your demonic cause? I like the cut of his jib!
So, that it. Next time, finally, THE STUPID MONSTERS RUNDOWN, PART TWO!
* Well, that and the actual rain at the time futzing with Christo's holds. Which I was totally the cause of. Sure. Let's go with that.
** I am, of course referring to the famous Druid, Hugh "Doctor" Dolittle from my world. I have no idea why you'd think I'd be referring to anybody else.
*** Technically the Seven Heavens of Celestia, but same-diff.
**** Not that I need any help with those mind you. It's just for minor assistance purposes, okay.
Anyway, I've been studying up on Demonology, specifically in your Ars Goetia, and man your demons are weird. I mean, their powerset is... scattered. On one hand they give you cheap divination tricks; making nice between friends; Doctor Dolittle** bullshit and; of all things; SCIENCE TEACHING. All these fail to impress me, given that I can do that crap with one hand tied behind my back.
On the other hand you have stuff like Baelful Polymorph, blowing up battleships with the weather, infesting every arrow you shoot with plague, causing castles to burst into flames, and other great nonsense like that. So your Hell's priorities are either really unfocused, or its demons are idiots. And plus, the stupid book says to rely on God's power to bind the demons instead of doing it your own damn self. This is proof that the writer was a massive pussy.
And speaking of massive pussies, let's talk about your head evil, this "Satan" you talk so much about. What a whiner. Everything I've read around on him has him bitching about "Oh, I wanna go back to heaven" or "Oh, humanity doesn't deserve God's awesomitude" and blah blah blah. Asmodeus never did any of that shit. He worked his ass off to get the same sort of hell that punk got for free, and when he did he didn't whine about being kicked out of heaven***. He just rolled up his sleeves and got to the business of taking souls.
But, since these guys are your worlds demons, I suppose it would be good to strike up a rapport with them, I'm thinking I'll contact Furfur and Baphomet. Furfur because, hey, he has lots of storm powers****, which'll come in handy in this parched desert craphole. Baphomet because I like his style. I mean, subverting an entire order of paladins (Albeit weakass ones without any powers) to your demonic cause? I like the cut of his jib!
So, that it. Next time, finally, THE STUPID MONSTERS RUNDOWN, PART TWO!
* Well, that and the actual rain at the time futzing with Christo's holds. Which I was totally the cause of. Sure. Let's go with that.
** I am, of course referring to the famous Druid, Hugh "Doctor" Dolittle from my world. I have no idea why you'd think I'd be referring to anybody else.
*** Technically the Seven Heavens of Celestia, but same-diff.
**** Not that I need any help with those mind you. It's just for minor assistance purposes, okay.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
And Now... The Trog
Yes, I'm finally going to tell you peons about the last member of my motley crew that isn't a minion, the Trogre. The trogre is... special. Not in that he's retarded, oh no. He's about as dumb as your average Troll or Ogre (Which, granted is pretty fucking don't-eat-my-spellbooks-please dumb), but slightly more innocent*. The thing is that he happens to be quite smart at certain things, sort of a moronic-genius if you will**. He is very specifically, a genius at sculpture. The kind of sculpture you find in temples to horrible reality-devouring monster gods***.
But apparently in your world these sorts of things are popular, as evidenced by the popularity of the men you call Dali and Giger. So, you'd think I'd be able to sell these But no. Apparently he does not like to give them up for sale, by which I mean I spent THREE DAYS regenerating after he pounded me into dust the last time I tried to sell. Oh well. At least I can use them for intimidation purposes when I try to talk to this world's demons. And I think I'm going to send out the Trogre to pay a little visit to Christo....
* IE, more likely to try and "Hug you and squeeze you and call you George!"
** Apparently the Sorceress says there's a different term for that. But my term is better.
*** And yes, they do serve as beacons for said horrible monster gods. But through the use of magic sigils, warding flasks, and a sock filled with rusty nails, I've been able to manage.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Updates Galore!
Well my peons, given that I am a wizard, it should come as no surprise that I tend to tinker with making magic items, often several at once. And today I have decided to dedicate this post to showcasing my various projects in an effort to both CRUSH THE CITY BENEATH MY BONY THUMB and to make a little cash on the side (The latter part was the sorceress' suggestion). So, here's a list:
The Halloween Stuff- I'm just mentioning this because I wanted to clear up what the hell happened with that first project I mentioned. It did not go well, if by did not go well you mean EVERYTHING TRIED TO KILL ME WHEN I ENCHANTED THEM! Part of this was me acting in haste when making it, cutting corners on the rituals and enchantments and other such things to get it finished by the Christmas Rush*. Another part of this was the fact that The Shapeshifter REPLACED MY FUCKING QUARTZ POWDER WITH PIXIE STIX! Again, I didn't notice this exchange of a VITAL INGREDIENT due to said rush. Needless to say, abominations were spawned, expletives were screamed, fire was thrown, and now I have an angry steam-breathing ooze of sentient plastic living in a pit in my basement as a "Dear god the cops have found me out" last resort. So, lemons from lemonade and all that.
The Magic Souped-Up Car- Yes, I was planning to make an evil chariot of doom out of my car, with Wands Of Magic Missile and Launchers of Alchemist's Frost studding it's gleaming black surface, screaming through the streets singing unholy incantations and I'm rambling aren't I. But The Sorceress, in her infinite sanity reminded me that it'd be best if I didn't use the same car we buy groceries with to turn into a highly conspicuous mobile death machine, especially when we don't even have a garage to hide it in (the Backyard is out of the question thanks to the Trogre). So I'm just stuck thinking of a way to do it and keep it hidden. Bags of holding are out of the question, too unweildy and very easy to break. Any ideas my peons?
The Womb of Ooze- The Drow has apparently bought me a thing you call a fleshlight of of the internet. It is apparently a convenient and pathetic substitute for a woman, though slightly less pathetic than one's own pleasure golem (I'll get to that in another story). I cannot tell whether this is a joke on his part or an honest attempt at perversion. you can never quite tell with him. So, in the interest of petty mockery, I've decided to convert it into a factory for any ooze I please, just press the button, shake vigorously at waist level, insert some protein, and the ooze of your choice is incubated, ready to be splurted out at someone's face at the slightest notice! Everytime I mention this to the Sorceress she keeps giggling.... Wait... FUCK!
Taser of Shocky Joy!- My human minions apparently like smoking the buds of the herb you call Marajuana, which is apparently illegal due to, from what I can gather via research, an intense hatred for ethnic people in your early twentieth century**. And, in a stroke of brilliance if I do say so myself, I came up with the idea to put the essence of said herb into the directed lightning weapon you call a taser fo sale. It's the high of marajuana with the legality of a weapon that lets you fry your hated enemies' nervous systems like a strip of bacon, all for the cost of a pair of batteries! Now the trouble is advertising them...
*And by "rush" I mean theft-spree
** Oddly enough, we had a similar situation in my old world, just replace ethnic people with kobolds and marajauana with otyugh stuffed with hallucinogenic mushrooms. It's a shame too, the high was exquisite.
The Halloween Stuff- I'm just mentioning this because I wanted to clear up what the hell happened with that first project I mentioned. It did not go well, if by did not go well you mean EVERYTHING TRIED TO KILL ME WHEN I ENCHANTED THEM! Part of this was me acting in haste when making it, cutting corners on the rituals and enchantments and other such things to get it finished by the Christmas Rush*. Another part of this was the fact that The Shapeshifter REPLACED MY FUCKING QUARTZ POWDER WITH PIXIE STIX! Again, I didn't notice this exchange of a VITAL INGREDIENT due to said rush. Needless to say, abominations were spawned, expletives were screamed, fire was thrown, and now I have an angry steam-breathing ooze of sentient plastic living in a pit in my basement as a "Dear god the cops have found me out" last resort. So, lemons from lemonade and all that.
The Magic Souped-Up Car- Yes, I was planning to make an evil chariot of doom out of my car, with Wands Of Magic Missile and Launchers of Alchemist's Frost studding it's gleaming black surface, screaming through the streets singing unholy incantations and I'm rambling aren't I. But The Sorceress, in her infinite sanity reminded me that it'd be best if I didn't use the same car we buy groceries with to turn into a highly conspicuous mobile death machine, especially when we don't even have a garage to hide it in (the Backyard is out of the question thanks to the Trogre). So I'm just stuck thinking of a way to do it and keep it hidden. Bags of holding are out of the question, too unweildy and very easy to break. Any ideas my peons?
The Womb of Ooze- The Drow has apparently bought me a thing you call a fleshlight of of the internet. It is apparently a convenient and pathetic substitute for a woman, though slightly less pathetic than one's own pleasure golem (I'll get to that in another story). I cannot tell whether this is a joke on his part or an honest attempt at perversion. you can never quite tell with him. So, in the interest of petty mockery, I've decided to convert it into a factory for any ooze I please, just press the button, shake vigorously at waist level, insert some protein, and the ooze of your choice is incubated, ready to be splurted out at someone's face at the slightest notice! Everytime I mention this to the Sorceress she keeps giggling.... Wait... FUCK!
Taser of Shocky Joy!- My human minions apparently like smoking the buds of the herb you call Marajuana, which is apparently illegal due to, from what I can gather via research, an intense hatred for ethnic people in your early twentieth century**. And, in a stroke of brilliance if I do say so myself, I came up with the idea to put the essence of said herb into the directed lightning weapon you call a taser fo sale. It's the high of marajuana with the legality of a weapon that lets you fry your hated enemies' nervous systems like a strip of bacon, all for the cost of a pair of batteries! Now the trouble is advertising them...
*And by "rush" I mean theft-spree
** Oddly enough, we had a similar situation in my old world, just replace ethnic people with kobolds and marajauana with otyugh stuffed with hallucinogenic mushrooms. It's a shame too, the high was exquisite.
Friday, July 1, 2011
This Cannot End Well
It has come to my attention that there is a firework shop that has recently set up across the way from my house. Apparently this is due to a holiday you call Independence Day, where you celebrate when some rich, white, male slaveowners rebelled against rich, white, male imperialists so that other rich, white, male slaveowners could vote for their choice of rich, white, male slaveowner to keep the rabble down. Yes I am a cynic, why do you ask?
But anyway, the reason why I mention this is that apparently the Ur-Elemental has been saving up his household allowance to buy out almost half the damn shop. When I asked him why, he just said "Because a bulldozer is too expensive". I thank fucking Asmodeus for this, as the though of one of your bulldozers infused with the powers of elemental earth (Which I KNOW he'd do) would be too destructive to contemplate. And not in the good way.
For now, I let him experiment with them using a portable bunker (technically just a Large Bag Of Holding lying in a hole in the ground, but don't tell him that). I have no idea what he's working on, and I really don't want to know. I just hope the results of this "project" doesn't end up burning everything down. Again.
On the Infuriating side of things, on reader suggestion suggestion I tried to get back at Santo Christo by poisoning the orphanage's food with mild halucinogenics and Carnibuncle meat to ruin his reputation. The minions still haven't woke up from their sound thrashing by that bastard. Apparently he's not just an oh-so-perfect saint, he also moonlights as a Luchador. God I hate that man.
No, Santo Christo or the police have not been able to stop me from taking my collection money from Downtown. That's what the Golem's there to stop. Pity it's so busy doing that and that alone. And the fact that I keep having to duct-tape the damn thing back together DOES NOT HELP!
But anyway, the reason why I mention this is that apparently the Ur-Elemental has been saving up his household allowance to buy out almost half the damn shop. When I asked him why, he just said "Because a bulldozer is too expensive". I thank fucking Asmodeus for this, as the though of one of your bulldozers infused with the powers of elemental earth (Which I KNOW he'd do) would be too destructive to contemplate. And not in the good way.
For now, I let him experiment with them using a portable bunker (technically just a Large Bag Of Holding lying in a hole in the ground, but don't tell him that). I have no idea what he's working on, and I really don't want to know. I just hope the results of this "project" doesn't end up burning everything down. Again.
On the Infuriating side of things, on reader suggestion suggestion I tried to get back at Santo Christo by poisoning the orphanage's food with mild halucinogenics and Carnibuncle meat to ruin his reputation. The minions still haven't woke up from their sound thrashing by that bastard. Apparently he's not just an oh-so-perfect saint, he also moonlights as a Luchador. God I hate that man.
No, Santo Christo or the police have not been able to stop me from taking my collection money from Downtown. That's what the Golem's there to stop. Pity it's so busy doing that and that alone. And the fact that I keep having to duct-tape the damn thing back together DOES NOT HELP!
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Well, Fuck Me!
Things have not been going well. First, that fireworks dragon I've been talking about? It was a bust. Apparently I forgot that a little thing called "Waterproofing", as Santo Christo (Not his real name, but I don't give two fucks, smug bastard) quite unkindly showed me with a bucketful of water to the face. And my attempts to negate this with the power of gasoline... Well, let's just say that I've been rubbing on Aloe for five days and it STILL hurts like balls. Though being semi-sorta-undead does not help. Well there's ONE THOUSAND bucks of fireworks, half a year's worth of work and fifty dollars for that megaphone down the privy-hole.
Of course, because of this the local news is now calling my pseudonym "El Demonio Rey""La Pollo Loco". From what I can understand this means "The Crazy Chicken" in the language you call Spanish*. And it's a female crazy chicken at that. This is unacceptable. Perhaps I'll send the Shapeshifter to deal with them... No, I think I'll just ask the Sorceress to whip up a quick Mordrek Fucktail**. No news organization ever deserves the Shapeshifter.
The gang-members are currently playing poker with my other minions while Doggy (As I Have decided to call him. So sue me, I'm uncreative) sits on my lap. Well, they're playing poker with all my minions except for the drow. Last time I let him play poker it ended with several angry Driders, a few angry goblins and one very pissed off Purple Dragon. Dear god, I have no fucking idea how he found a purple dragon and got him to play poker.
Oh, and that article on the other crappy monsters I got? Well, maybe later. For now, I have to break up another brawl at the table. How many times do I have to tell the orcs that YOU DO NOT EAT THE FUCKING CARDS!
* Honestly I don't get you people's languages. I mean you only have humans here, and yet you have languages upon languages. In my world it's one language, one race (And I mean Human/Elves/Dwarves, not ethnicities). It's so much simpler that way. So much less to learn, and so much easier to throw out death threats.
** Pioneered by Emperor Mordrek the Not-Really-A-Hand Handed (Don't ask), it involves zombies, fire and paper mache, and that all I'm going to tell you.
Of course, because of this the local news is now calling my pseudonym "El Demonio Rey""La Pollo Loco". From what I can understand this means "The Crazy Chicken" in the language you call Spanish*. And it's a female crazy chicken at that. This is unacceptable. Perhaps I'll send the Shapeshifter to deal with them... No, I think I'll just ask the Sorceress to whip up a quick Mordrek Fucktail**. No news organization ever deserves the Shapeshifter.
The gang-members are currently playing poker with my other minions while Doggy (As I Have decided to call him. So sue me, I'm uncreative) sits on my lap. Well, they're playing poker with all my minions except for the drow. Last time I let him play poker it ended with several angry Driders, a few angry goblins and one very pissed off Purple Dragon. Dear god, I have no fucking idea how he found a purple dragon and got him to play poker.
Oh, and that article on the other crappy monsters I got? Well, maybe later. For now, I have to break up another brawl at the table. How many times do I have to tell the orcs that YOU DO NOT EAT THE FUCKING CARDS!
* Honestly I don't get you people's languages. I mean you only have humans here, and yet you have languages upon languages. In my world it's one language, one race (And I mean Human/Elves/Dwarves, not ethnicities). It's so much simpler that way. So much less to learn, and so much easier to throw out death threats.
** Pioneered by Emperor Mordrek the Not-Really-A-Hand Handed (Don't ask), it involves zombies, fire and paper mache, and that all I'm going to tell you.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Stupid, Stupid Monsters.
Well, I promised you peons that I'd tell you about the crappy, crappy monsters that came out the portal, and I always keep my promises. Actually, I usually don't, but I like people to think that so I can stab them in the ba- MOVING ON!
First, note that the Flumph is nowhere on this list. This is for three reasons. One: It is nigh-well useless against adventurers. I mean, spewing RIDICULOUSLY TINY amounts of acid is great and all, but not when you're facing a +5 Sword of Fuck Your Shit Up. Secondly, note that they have "Lawful Good" in their stat description. This is a problem when you are trying to raze yon tiny village, and they're blathering on about "The Rights Of Man" until you shut them up with a magic missile to the face (Note that this is how I solve most of my problems). Thirdly, look at the damn thing. It's the floating front end of a fleshlight with tentacles and googly-eyes glued on! I'd be the laughingstock of all the evil overlords if I got caught with one of the damn things! Now, anyway, onto the long list of stupid:
Carnibuncle- If you don't know these, they're basically armadillo-things with a little jewel on their foreheads. Now, this jewel turns to dust when they die, which would make them useless long-term in my hoard, but I figured, hey, no problem, I'd just coax them (And by "coax" I mean mind-control) in to giving up a bunch of jewels and then kill them, use the jewel dust in my Spell Cannon (Which, in my infinite stupidity, I forgot to bring) and eat the meat. Boy was I wrong.
First, the Dust is near useless. All it can do is a mere Slash Tongue, and that was only with a very "creative" combination of the materials (Never ask me where I got all that semen), which is good for when you need to annoy someone out of petty spite, but terrible for everything else. And the meat? Let me put it this way: I will NEVER complain about The Sorceress' cooking again. Though the dog does like to chase them.
Gambado- I stole this stupid pop-up skull thing from a dark ride in Ye Olde Amusement Park. I immediately regretted it after it popped up during my evil speech TWENTY FUCKING TIMES! You know those stupid motion-detecting dancing figurines you buy from the drugstore that are amusing ONCE and then become annoyances that eventually end up in a personal relationship with the blunt end of a hammer? These guys are like that.
Tirapheg- WHAT IS THIS I DON'T EVEN?! I believe this is the result of the fling between the Shapeshifter and a very drunken fairy. So, naturally, he ditched responsibilities for caring for the thing on me. Yay. It's basically.... well... I can't really describe it except for the fact that it gives me nightmares, and you should probably look the damn thing up if you're so keen to. It has these stupid illusion powers, and that coupled with its near constant screaming and mumbling is enough to keep me up at night, wary of the damn thing. I've been told to refer to some film called Eraserhead about this, but I fail to see the resemblance.
Gorbel- The Bone Devil who sold me this told me it was a new breed of Beholder. This is why he is now a steaming pile of ooze on the ground. These things are terrible. All they do is grab onto some idiot who passes by and explode at the touch of a pinprick. I suppose they could be used as really retarded grenades, but they don't reproduce fast enough. This may be one of the few times that my copy of the Book of Erotic Fantasy (Yes it's real, and yes it's as retarded as it sounds) may come in handy. I wonder if that "Dwarven Gibben Rinder" in the aphrodisiacs section could hel- MOVING ON!
The Wolf In Sheep's Clothing- The shapeshifter bought this for me as a gift using funds embezzled from my treasure horde, this being another addition to the seven thousand, five hundred and sixty two reasons I hate him. It's basically looks like a rabbit glued to a googly-eyed tree stump with tentacles, eyestalks and teeth. And if you're thinking that it'd work in an ambush, well let me tell you, it doesn't. It only takes one damn adventure party to get attacked by it, and then the word gets out to "avoid the tree with the obvious jawline!" And then it's just another shitty decoration, like some evil fucking ficus or something. Oh well, at least he isn't trying to eat me AGAIN!
And, as this post is getting rather unweildy in length, I think I'll save the rest of my crap Menagere for part 2
First, note that the Flumph is nowhere on this list. This is for three reasons. One: It is nigh-well useless against adventurers. I mean, spewing RIDICULOUSLY TINY amounts of acid is great and all, but not when you're facing a +5 Sword of Fuck Your Shit Up. Secondly, note that they have "Lawful Good" in their stat description. This is a problem when you are trying to raze yon tiny village, and they're blathering on about "The Rights Of Man" until you shut them up with a magic missile to the face (Note that this is how I solve most of my problems). Thirdly, look at the damn thing. It's the floating front end of a fleshlight with tentacles and googly-eyes glued on! I'd be the laughingstock of all the evil overlords if I got caught with one of the damn things! Now, anyway, onto the long list of stupid:
Carnibuncle- If you don't know these, they're basically armadillo-things with a little jewel on their foreheads. Now, this jewel turns to dust when they die, which would make them useless long-term in my hoard, but I figured, hey, no problem, I'd just coax them (And by "coax" I mean mind-control) in to giving up a bunch of jewels and then kill them, use the jewel dust in my Spell Cannon (Which, in my infinite stupidity, I forgot to bring) and eat the meat. Boy was I wrong.
First, the Dust is near useless. All it can do is a mere Slash Tongue, and that was only with a very "creative" combination of the materials (Never ask me where I got all that semen), which is good for when you need to annoy someone out of petty spite, but terrible for everything else. And the meat? Let me put it this way: I will NEVER complain about The Sorceress' cooking again. Though the dog does like to chase them.
Gambado- I stole this stupid pop-up skull thing from a dark ride in Ye Olde Amusement Park. I immediately regretted it after it popped up during my evil speech TWENTY FUCKING TIMES! You know those stupid motion-detecting dancing figurines you buy from the drugstore that are amusing ONCE and then become annoyances that eventually end up in a personal relationship with the blunt end of a hammer? These guys are like that.
Tirapheg- WHAT IS THIS I DON'T EVEN?! I believe this is the result of the fling between the Shapeshifter and a very drunken fairy. So, naturally, he ditched responsibilities for caring for the thing on me. Yay. It's basically.... well... I can't really describe it except for the fact that it gives me nightmares, and you should probably look the damn thing up if you're so keen to. It has these stupid illusion powers, and that coupled with its near constant screaming and mumbling is enough to keep me up at night, wary of the damn thing. I've been told to refer to some film called Eraserhead about this, but I fail to see the resemblance.
Gorbel- The Bone Devil who sold me this told me it was a new breed of Beholder. This is why he is now a steaming pile of ooze on the ground. These things are terrible. All they do is grab onto some idiot who passes by and explode at the touch of a pinprick. I suppose they could be used as really retarded grenades, but they don't reproduce fast enough. This may be one of the few times that my copy of the Book of Erotic Fantasy (Yes it's real, and yes it's as retarded as it sounds) may come in handy. I wonder if that "Dwarven Gibben Rinder" in the aphrodisiacs section could hel- MOVING ON!
The Wolf In Sheep's Clothing- The shapeshifter bought this for me as a gift using funds embezzled from my treasure horde, this being another addition to the seven thousand, five hundred and sixty two reasons I hate him. It's basically looks like a rabbit glued to a googly-eyed tree stump with tentacles, eyestalks and teeth. And if you're thinking that it'd work in an ambush, well let me tell you, it doesn't. It only takes one damn adventure party to get attacked by it, and then the word gets out to "avoid the tree with the obvious jawline!" And then it's just another shitty decoration, like some evil fucking ficus or something. Oh well, at least he isn't trying to eat me AGAIN!
And, as this post is getting rather unweildy in length, I think I'll save the rest of my crap Menagere for part 2
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Let's Do the Time Warp Again!
My peons, I am back! Did you miss me?! Probably not, given that I only have two readers, but fuck it, I'm doing it anyway. Well, since I've been gone for the past three-and-a-half months, let me fill you in.
Plans are still going at the same rate they have been for expanding my reach, that is to say, not at all. My big "Send the fireworks-based fire snake into the mall AND LET CHAOS REIGN!!!" has not yet started thanks to a few failures by my Arch-Ememental. Well, more like several failures. Well, if you really want to get technical, several dozen failures. And it's not because of incompetence either, it's because that man... woman... thing of ambiguous gender always decides to take it one fucking step too far! "Hey Asmodeus, I'll add this TNT to the mix, it'll be awesome!" "Hey Asmodeus, this Gasoline will give it both body AND form!""What could possibly go wrong with adding TWELVE GALLONS of Jack Daniels to the mix.". Well, my filthy peons, you see that giant missing chunk of my house? Well, you can't because I have it illusioned away, and you're probably not there anyway, but THAT'S WHAT COULD GO FUCKING WRONG!
And it's no help that the police are resisting me in the few areas that I do have dominance in, thanks to that pudgy little security guard whining to the cops and setting up his own stupid neighborhood watch league. His name's Santo Christo, or some stupid shit like that, and apparently he's a pastor in his spare time, helps out at the orphanage in his other spare time, raises funds for charity, has saved a baby from a burning building, keeps stray cats at his house and OH DER GOD I WANT TO PUNCH HIS STUPID SMILING FACE! Well, at least I know now why that Mace had some hints of holy water combined with the usual chemical skin rape.
The dog is doing fine, and seems perkier than ever. He's an exuberant, joyous little thing, and even the Drow hasn't dared to try and feed the little guy to that giant spider he keeps by his bed. He likes to sleep by my toes in my bed, which I have to admit is rather adorable, and warms even my cold, dank, lying-in-a-Tarrasques' galladder soul. I also taught him tricks, more specifically how to widdle on The Shapeshifter's bed when he displeases me yet again (Like that incedent at the theater, which I need not discuss). So far, it has been a great success!
And finally, thanks to several well-placed bribes at the zoo, I have brought a substantial chunk of the monstrosities of my personal menagerie. Unfortunately, all I managed to get is the crappy ones. Details to be released WHENEVER THE FUCK I FEEL LIKE IT!
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Failure and Hope
As you peons can tell, the mall venture did not go well. In the spirit of the season (Which I missed damnit) I'll tell you why IN RHYME!
It was Christmas Eve, December 2-5
Through a series of portals, me and my gang slithed
I had brought some bags of holding, some magic too
Ready to steal 'till the moneychangers went "Boo-hoo".
We snuck into the stores, and nicked from Borders to Sears,
Not knowing that night would end in our tears.
We stole all the games, the books and the clothes,
The appliances, the power tools, and a red rubber hose.
We stole them all through out the night,
Till we got wind of a horrible sight.
He was pudgy and duil faced, not at all mellow,
and as he ran his jowls shook like jello
"Hey you punks!" he screamed with a start,
And then he did something unexpected, off-the-charts.
He grabbed a small can, which on it said MACE
And brandished it to me and sprayed it in my face.
My magic I'd brought was geared towards offence and stealth,
I had brought none to hurt to preserve my own health.
And while I grappled for the Magic Missile in vain,
I was at once struck with a horrible pain.
That MACE, as you can clearly see,
seems to work well against liches like me.
I don't know whether it's magic, preservatives or what,
But I can tell you it hurt like a knife to the gut.
As my gang had brought no weapons, and the guard had two,
They dropped the sacks and away they flew.
Their leader was down, covered in mace,
and they were afraid and ran helter-skelter all over the place
I had anticipated my magic would work,
that the weapons could not hurt me of this oversized jerk.
But your technology has currently foiled my schemes
As my body felt like it was being ripped at the seams
I opened the portal, in my pain,
and yelled them to get in before I put a spell on their brain,
They ran, only one sack in my hand,
Down the portal, to the mansion on sand.
I yelled several swear words, some I had made up,
and shuddered in hurt as they pulled me up.
My body felt burning like never before,
Someday, I said, I would settle the score!
But as of now I've been trying to wash it away,
A hard enough task that I missed new years day.
My plan had failed, it had all gone kaput,
But instead of going to sulk in the soot,
I went out for hot wings, and then to the store
To see if I could cheer myself up, since I was still a bit sore
But as I strode the store's aisle, I looked and spied,
A some bundles of fireworks at the corner of my eye.
A thought came into my head, and I turned with a grin
As I came up with a new plan to utilize them for sin.
So in the end ,I have just this to say:
Merry Christmas to all and I'LL GET YOU FUCKS ANOTHER DAY!
It was Christmas Eve, December 2-5
Through a series of portals, me and my gang slithed
I had brought some bags of holding, some magic too
Ready to steal 'till the moneychangers went "Boo-hoo".
We snuck into the stores, and nicked from Borders to Sears,
Not knowing that night would end in our tears.
We stole all the games, the books and the clothes,
The appliances, the power tools, and a red rubber hose.
We stole them all through out the night,
Till we got wind of a horrible sight.
He was pudgy and duil faced, not at all mellow,
and as he ran his jowls shook like jello
"Hey you punks!" he screamed with a start,
And then he did something unexpected, off-the-charts.
He grabbed a small can, which on it said MACE
And brandished it to me and sprayed it in my face.
My magic I'd brought was geared towards offence and stealth,
I had brought none to hurt to preserve my own health.
And while I grappled for the Magic Missile in vain,
I was at once struck with a horrible pain.
That MACE, as you can clearly see,
seems to work well against liches like me.
I don't know whether it's magic, preservatives or what,
But I can tell you it hurt like a knife to the gut.
As my gang had brought no weapons, and the guard had two,
They dropped the sacks and away they flew.
Their leader was down, covered in mace,
and they were afraid and ran helter-skelter all over the place
I had anticipated my magic would work,
that the weapons could not hurt me of this oversized jerk.
But your technology has currently foiled my schemes
As my body felt like it was being ripped at the seams
I opened the portal, in my pain,
and yelled them to get in before I put a spell on their brain,
They ran, only one sack in my hand,
Down the portal, to the mansion on sand.
I yelled several swear words, some I had made up,
and shuddered in hurt as they pulled me up.
My body felt burning like never before,
Someday, I said, I would settle the score!
But as of now I've been trying to wash it away,
A hard enough task that I missed new years day.
My plan had failed, it had all gone kaput,
But instead of going to sulk in the soot,
I went out for hot wings, and then to the store
To see if I could cheer myself up, since I was still a bit sore
But as I strode the store's aisle, I looked and spied,
A some bundles of fireworks at the corner of my eye.
A thought came into my head, and I turned with a grin
As I came up with a new plan to utilize them for sin.
So in the end ,I have just this to say:
Merry Christmas to all and I'LL GET YOU FUCKS ANOTHER DAY!
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