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!
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