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Day 0This pe
Chatterbox: Pudding's Place
Day 0This pe
Day 0
This person might consider themselves to be an ordinary person, but today the life they have always lived might take a turn for the extraordinary. On May 15, a day like any other, this person picks up the mail. There are the usual ads, a letter from a family member, and- what's this? A letter addressed to the person but with no return address? Curious, this person thinks. Tearing open the envelope, the person reads the letter.
Dear Reader,
If you have received this letter, you have been invited to the greatest ski lodge party ever to occur. We would be very pleased if you would attend. We shall begin on July 15, giving you two months to RSVP. We shall be very sad if you cannot attend. Come, come! Join in our celebration. We have but a few rules:
- In the past, a couple of murderers have seemed to sneak into the lodge and murdered everyone. If you're a murderer, stay away, unless your name is Melody, Red, or BHR.
- It's all fun and games here. No matter what happens, everything shall be silly and fun.
- If you have no idea what I'm going on about, you can read the rules to any of the past ski lodge adventures (the top comment on Pudding's Place should be one). If you do, ignore this and keep reading.
- A new day is usually posted in the morning by me. Every day, a new installment in the story occurs.
- You're very welcome to write your point of view of the day (why most people don't is a mystery to me!) but please wait for me to put the day up first.
- Logic sometimes gets tossed out the window. Nobody needs that stuff!
- I do not pick who lives and dies- my immortal companion, the Sugarbowl, carries your names and I randomly draw them out.
- If you ask me to put a really long, narcissistic, name into the Sugarbowl (*cough cough Melody cough cough*)- Excuse me, I seem to have come down with a bit of a cold. As I was saying- if you do ask me to put such a long name in, I will ignore you and probably tease you about it for the rest of your life. Don't think I won't.
- I tend to make fun of people a lot (*cough cough Melody cough cough*). My goodness, that really is a very persistent cold! Please don't take it personally. Also, I am sure I will mess up someone's gender. Don't take that personally either. I botch personalities and tend to make a general mess of things. Moral of the story: Don't take anything here personally. If I mess with you, it means I like you.
- What a hypocrite- "but a few rules", my foot.
- I always feel like this section is hard to write. Eh, if you don't get things, read another rule page, or ask me questions.
We look forward to your participation. Please come join the show.
-The Omnipotent Narrator
The Sugarbowl is waking up... It is time to choose your own adventure. Will you come join?
submitted by T.O.N.
(May 15, 2014 - 5:35 pm)
(May 15, 2014 - 5:35 pm)
Dear Tape-tape, today I have a report (that just now has been poured into a ceramic puffin) filled to the brim with false accusations, apples, murder mystery mayhem, and mayonnaise topped with whipped cream and fake cherries. Why such an elaborate report? You may ask. Well, partly because of the rich and creamy flavour, and partly to celebrate the fact that nobody's been...ripped to shreds by a cloud of cute hot-pink claws, beheaded by a little kid disguised as a Frenchman who eats too much garlic who was in turn disguised as a card-shark who was in turn disguised as Robin Hood, who realized his flaw of not eating enough garlic, or gotten arrested while doing origami and watching the Aurora Borealis flash past Orion.
Here is a list of the things that makes the ski lodge both terribly funny and funnily terrible:
1. T.O.N.
2. Pople dying. This makes it so horribly serious, but no one seems to care.
3. Everything.
In other news, quite a lot of people have died, but unfortunately none of them is CaptainRead. Yet. I have sent my lawyer to take out my sister's lawyer, so that any claims she may make, alive or dead, will be refuted and no one will take any notice of her. The ultimate punishment indeed!
(August 8, 2014 - 11:25 am)
I'm still in shock that Red has never heard of blue moon ice cream. Who else hasn't heard of it? Is it true you can only get it in Wisconsin or Michigan? It's so good! :)
(August 8, 2014 - 11:57 am)
I looked blue moon ice cream up (which I hadn't heard of before but it looks good!) and it says that it's available in the Upper Midwest US aka Iowa, Michigan, Minnesota, both Dakotas, and Wisconsin. I'm around the east coast so unfortunately we don't have it.
(August 8, 2014 - 4:53 pm)
What the flip-flops is Blue Moon ice cream?
(August 8, 2014 - 5:03 pm)
Me. Yep it's true. No blue moon ice cream over here in PA. I'd never heard of it until you mentioned it. I mean, I've heard the old song. But not the ice cream. Sorry. But now I really want to go to Wisconsin or Michigan!
(August 8, 2014 - 6:07 pm)
*hoots for Madeline* HOOT HOOT! My grandparents bring blue moon ice cream from Wisconsin all the way to California. Yeah, I am pretty sure you are right. Cheers for blue moon ice cream!
I just got back from a week in Wisconsin, including stops at two ice cream shops that had blue moon! Now I wish I'd tried it. I opted for Sneakers (better than it sounds: malt flavor ice cream with chocolate-covered peanuts in it) at one place and butter pecan at the other. I'll try it next year.
Admin
(August 11, 2014 - 4:22 pm)
Oh wait, now I looked up Blue Moon and I definitely saw it at an ice cream shop in Wisconsin.
(August 11, 2014 - 10:03 pm)
Day 18
The gunman is useless. She is useless because no matter what she does, her father's other daughter will always be his favorite, always be his loved one. She can be the people's hero, but never her father's. She is- oh, is that the time? Drat! Have to get the day started! Get off your butts, lazy clouds, this day is beginning!
People say the pen is mightier than the sword, but if someone had been swinging a pen around and accidentally let go, Violet might still be here today.
Nina: She was the best of friends. She was the worst of friends. The last because she left me nothing in her will.
Ellie: Geez, people! Stop being so materialistic! All you care about is what people leave you in items! Violet left us many gifts like her thoughts, stories, and wonderful memories of being together with her.
Madeline: She also left us half her ice cream.
Ellie: I want it!
Later, there is an unceremonius knock on the door.
BHR: Are those the assassins again? Strange, I didn't expect them until tomorrow.
Bookbug: Ew, it's a lady in a suit. I don't like people who wear suits.
Suitably Suit-Suited Woman: Hello, I'm Miss Captain Read's lawyer-
Teresa: LAWYER ALERT!
Ivy: Initiate lockdown!
Maggie: 2319! We have a 2319!
Suitably Suit-Suited Lawyer: Hey, I'm an advocate from the society of "Lawyers are People Too" and I don't like that tone of voice, young ladies--
Bounty: Ninja anti-lawyer French Fry batillion atttaaacccckkk!
Moss: Redwaaaaaall!
Alice: Behold my swinging pork chop flail of fury! None can resist its might!
With the combined powers of justice, love, and pork chops, the Dreade Lawyer and her Stylish Suit were banished back to the Underw- uh, the Black Lagoon.
Melody: That reminds me, I'm ordering a Tigger in the mail.
FQ: One of the plush toys?
Melody: No, the real deal. The wonderful things about Tiggers is that Tiggers are wonderful things. Their tops are made out of rubber; their bottoms are made out of springs.
FQ: Are you being paid by Disney to advertise them?
Melody: ... Drat, they've figured me out!
Mag Fan: Say, can we put an order for a zombie apocalypse?
BHR: DID SOMEONE SAY ZOMBIES?! PRIVATE MAGGIE, REPORT FOR DUTY!
Maggie: Ma'am, yes ma'am! No zombies scouted yet, ma'am! Security cameras still intact, ma'am! Defenses ready to fire including the Flamethrower-Megadeath-Ultima-Super-State of the Art-Every Twelve Year Old Boy's Dream Date-Exploding-Annihilator- ma'am!
BHR: Excellent report, private!
Blue Fairy's Ghost: But if the world ends, who will feed Samus?
Madeline: I'm sure Jem Louise Margaret can find a way. She stabbed herself on the can opener this morning, but with a bit of practice, I'm sure she can find a way to survive the apocalypse.
Rest in peace, Violet. Rest in peace.
(August 8, 2014 - 8:48 pm)
Darn. The internet went out right before I was going to post my writing last night and then I had to go to bed, but I just want to say, T.O.N ~ my personality on the puns thing was spot on! ;)
Except I don't think I'd turn you into a shish kabob.... Maybe mincemeat? Just kidding.
(August 9, 2014 - 12:07 pm)
I realize that I wrote "Day 17" yesterday, but that was a mistake. Sorry guys, no time traveling, that was actually Day 18 wearing a mustache and glasses disguise so you can't tell what it is. Shh. It's shy.
I just changed Day 17 number 2 to 18.
Admin
(August 9, 2014 - 5:32 pm)
Day 19
Sometime during your life- in fact, very soon- you may find yourself reading a thread, and you may notice that a thread’s first sentence can often tell you what sort of story your thread contains. This particular thread has a better opening than most of my threads. This is a downright shame. Whenever I want to make a thread that starts out sounding cool, I end up with "I had a little froggy." On a discussion about whether lemmings are really all that they are cracked up to be (yes, for the record) or whether martins are better (no, for the record) but whenever I want to make fun of the opening of the thread, I look up and see I wrote something that's almost pleasant. That annoys me, it does. It's like trying to point out the flaws in the first book you grab then realize you grabbed Tolkien and you say, "Oh," with that sad little voice that either accompanies trying to point out the flaws in Tolkien or having the dog eat all your pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving because you left it out on the counter and now it's giving you the big grin of pumpkin-flavored indigestion, the darn thing.
Breaking rocks in the hot sun, Captain Read fought the law and the law won. Despite the smashing success of the lawyer drill yesterday, Captain Read's lawyer followed suit and brought an extra back up team with her- the secret crime-fighting team called "Lawyers Against Pork Chops And Teenagers" (LAPCAT).
Team Chatterbox vs. LAPCAT- FIGHT! *bong*
Aaaand, LAPCAT takes the lead, LAPCAT going down the field, it's going past the opposition, sweeping them aside, Chatterbox doesn't hold a chance here, LAPCAT shoots, LAPCAT- no, Reed dodges, Reed's running like a cheetah on a coffee there, and Alice is going in for backup, nice reverse spin on that porkchop, can we have an instant replay here? Look at the way that porkchop smashes into the face of the lawyer! Look at the way he recoils! Marvelous! Back in the action, it's Bookbug and BHR dominating the field, those lawyers are getting hemmed in, it looks like another defeat for LAPCAT- wait, LAPCAT captain is calling a timeout! She's passing around oranges and tissues to wipe their bruised egos and telling them, "Men and women, we are lawyers! We sold our souls to the Unde- uh, the government and we are not about to be done in by hormonal teenagers, small children who ought to be put into a daycare, and fatty cuts of meat! Now let's get out there and kick some butt! One, two, three- legislation!" That's some serious trashtalk right there, LAPCAT's jeopardizing themselves if the league hears about this. Game back in session, LAPCAT has gained new hope and they're tossing the opposition aside and closing in on their target, they shoot! They- FATALITY!
And thus Captain Read succumbed to the American justice system.
Disclaimer: I really have nothing against lawyers.
Later, Madeline caught Red in the process of eating her ice cream. Again.
Madeline: I banish thee to the nether regions of Heck!
Moss: Madeline, don't banish angry!
Mag Fan: Just eat a Snickers, you'll feel better.
Maggie: You said so yourself, Madeline, it's too good to stay away from. Not that I had any. Uh. Of course not.
Melody: Deception! Disgrace! Evil as plain as the scar not on his face! Deception!
Nina: An outrage!
Melody: Disgrace!
BHR: For shame!
Melody: He asked for trouble the moment he came.
Red: I'm pretty sure I asked for a Coke--
Melody: Deception!
Ellie: An outrage!
Ivy: He can't change his stripes.
Melody: Disgrace!
Teresa: For shame!
FQ: You know these outside types.
Bounty: We're locking you up, boy. Your ice cream chowing days are over! From now on, you'll be guarded by an immortal watchman.
Later, much later.
Red: Psst. JLM. Can you bring me some dinner?
JLM: My orders were to keep you here and not give you anything.
Red: Please? Come on. For a buddy.
JLM: Nope.
Red: Come on, man. We're partners. We've been getting into trouble together since third grade! Remember the time we attacked the anime army?
JLM: ... Yes.
Red: And the time we forced Edward and Gollum to marry each other?
JLM: ... Yes.
Red: And the time you tried to punish me for calling you a Sa-
JLM: I am not a Sasuke fangirl! ... And I'm still going to punish you for that.
Red: There's knives in the kitchen, you know. Wait! Come back! If you stab yourself, who's going to bring me dinner! Ah, nuts.
Rest in peace, Captain Read. Rest in peace.
(August 9, 2014 - 6:51 pm)
Echo, echo... echo. Where did the comments go?
(August 10, 2014 - 3:12 pm)
Day 19
...Red stole my ice cream. AGAIN! I mean, seriously?! It was hard enough smuggling three pounds of blue moon ice cream on the plane over here, but I'm down to my last jug! I CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT IT! MUST HAVE BLUE MOON ICE CREAMMMMMMM! (And for all of you who don't know, the exact flavor of it is still a bit of a mystery. I think it kinda tastes like fruit loops or blue cotton candy. More the fruit loops and milk, I think. Either way, IT'S AMAZING. BAH!
*Slurp Slurp*
*Munch Munch*
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
ANYWAYS:
I. Can't. Believe. People. Were. Attacking. Lawyers.
Seriously?! NEVER attack a lawyer. They will always win. I know that from living with a lawyer for all my 13 years. And I want to be a lawyer when I grow up, so that is why I had to stay out of the fight. I mean, I hate to say it, but I was kind of on the lawyers' side. I mean, it's really hard to argue with a well-practiced lawyer. Not that I wanted CaptainRead to...
You know what? I think I need an icecream break. I think I'm going a bit crazy.
MUST TAKE SMALL BITES TO SAVE THE LAST JUG!
(August 11, 2014 - 8:45 am)
Aw man! I was so certain it was me! Well, nevermind. I can now come back and annoy you all...MWAHAHAHA! And now I shall examine the pros and cons of being a ghost: I can fly and go through things. I can become invisible. I can still make myself seen and heard to the living if I want, which is an asset compared to some kinds of ghosts in books. I'm not the only ghost, so I won't be lonely. I can't eat or drink (not even chocolate! That's something to wail about, for certain...) or pick things up easily or heal this bullet-hole in my chest, but even that isn't so bad, because I can pretend to be a Time-Lord who's still alive because of having two hearts. That would be fun. And..AHA! Because of my murder, the lawyers will be mopping up their legal mistake (murdering me without my consent (I didn't sign any waivers!), obviously a breach on the law of free will) for years! And they'll be too busy to notice me creeping up and throttling F.Q.'s raven so that I'll have my own ghost raven! How epicly awesome! Now, if I can figure out where all the other ghosts have gone to I'm sure we can use our combined genius and knack for blowing things up to concoct an antidote to the ghostbusters! (Whoever they may be. At the moment, I'm pretty certain they're some people named Buster who like ghosts, but since all the ghosts were scared of them, I suppose I should be too...)
(August 11, 2014 - 9:01 am)
Dearest sister, it is my ecstatic duty to inform you that due to the dodging of cheap porkchops and some overpowering logic, any claims you may make, alive or dead, will be rerouted to the Complaints Department, which is, coincidentally, permanently closed for nonexistent renovations. Also, I have hired an army of forging geniuses to write your will and testament, so that all your eathly/skyly possessions are mine. Oh Violet! I didn't see you there, *whispers in menacing tone* now about your will.... No, I'm most certainly not forging your will under your nose! What gave you that idea, oh you say a "little bird" told you?! What cheek, all lies I say! Preposterous! Poppycock! I say, what cheek! All lies and preposterous poppycock, the lot of them! I say....she's gone. Was it something I said? I just wanted a good old argument, you know! This is the Department of Good Old Arguments, isn't it? If you tell me it isn't, I'll scream. Speaking of wills, have you ever heard of Bartholemew Scrooge's will? If yes, you're too smart for your own good, don't spoil the story! If no, good for you! Here's a candy and I'll tell you about it:
In a galaxy far far away, and yet strangely close at hand when it comes to telling stories about it, at a time when the writing of wills was greatly frowned upon, one Bartholemew Scrooge left all of his possessions to "Ducky". This greatly befuddled and bemused all of that generation, for they could not decide whether Bartholemew had meant, perhaps, his rubber bath ducky? Or maybe the ducks in the farmyard, or was "Ducky" a term of endearment for one of them whom they did not know? So they left the job to the next generation, and went about their business. The next generation was a generation of great stargazers, scholars, and grocery store clerks, and yet they were just as confused by Bartholemew Scrooge's will as the rest of us. The stargazers wondered if Bartholemew had been referring to a far-off planet that he had named Ducky, and had left his money to fund its exploration. The scholars thought that Bartholemew must have meant that he was leaving his possessions to the scientific study of ducks, and the grocery store clerks were of the opinion that Mr. Scrooge had been referring to the nearby supermall called "Sparky Ducky's Emporium". The flaw in that thinking was that supermalls hadn't existed when Bartholemew had lived, but the grocery store clerks adamantly told everyone that time-travel was an option back then. Thus that generation was left bemused and befuddled, and the problem passed on to the next generation, which was one of lazy inventors, who built a computer to do the thinking for them and asked it what Bartholemew's will had meant. The computer said "PROCESSING...PROCESSING..." and so the inventors waited. And waited. And their descendants waited. And their descendants waited. And there was much waiting all around. Finally, at the end of the universe, when the only things left were an armchair, a teacup, a young person who's name is unknown so we shall call him G, and the computer. Suddenly, the computer woke up from it's deep processing hibernation, shouted "A string of complete and utter nonsense!" G jumped up in the air and spilled tea on his shirt. "What's a string of complete and utter nonsense?" he asked, thoroughly annoyed that the last cup of tea in the universe had been wasted in such a way. "The will." the computer replied matter-of-factly, "The will that your great-great-great-grandfather to the exponent of 2.657 wrote down just before he keeled over and left this world." "Oh! That will! The answer everyone -- well, me, now" G. looked around sheepishly, seeing as everyone now meant only him, and continued, "the answer that I've been waiting for!" Just then, the universe imploded and the world began again, the Big Bang having been triggered by the Little Whimper.
But I digress. I would love to continue my segue-ing, but the aluminum clock stapled above my dearest Tape-tape tells me that it is far too late a time for anyone, not even a ghost of my age and stature, to be up. Goodnight.
(August 13, 2014 - 8:12 pm)