Unutterably Silly Avatar for zelda_pinwheel

[montsnmags]

Ah, Google...they're so cute when they're angry. So, let's see...here I am with Tech-Warrior Legions, Mechano-plasma RoBotallions and Dark Energy Waveform Deathsquads (and they're just the resources I've assigned to Queen Zee - the Montsnmags Enterprises Armoury and the Evangelist Arm of The Multiversal Church of the Compulsory Gibbon are somewhat more substantially resourced in their, respectively, Customer Base Development Plan and Sacred Conversionary Mission across brane-space), and with my hands holding the purse springs and the big red authority-to-act button of both, and there's a bunch of snooty legal-types for a search-engine-made-good-with-a-new-operating-system-for-archaic-communications-devices-that-don't-even-work-in-sub-space-mode.

Oh, yeah, you better go with Google-No-Evil - their undead lawyers will kep you safe, I'm sure.

Me, I'll be up the front of my fully-armed millions of minions of self-righteously afire Holy Communioners, and leading the ultra-teched and super-forced legions of the Montsnmags Business Enforcement Agency, astride my Quantum-quad-jet nebula-ski (I call her "Queen Zee II"), powered by its sixteen-Schrödinger-cylinder, collapsing waveform, dark-energy-pressure-charged, Higgs-pulse turbine, all of it wrapped in more gun-barrels and pulse-blades and beam-spikes than every crap Hollywood space opera ever made or to be made, ready to leap down to that cocky Page and ballsy Brin and GMail them a both a swift solid kick from my steel-toed, ultramarine, diamante jet-boots straight in their ridiculously roller-blading googly bits.

...

But, you know, everyone's their own person. If you feel that things are better in the bunker or behind some blithering body of Bram Stoker barristers, then, feel free and good luck. However I offer, humbly, assurances that I will always defend and protect the ones I love to the exclusion of all else, no exceptions. I keep my friends close (and my enemies in the small, dank pit filled with blood-hungry squirrels that lies beneath my office).

THEY CAN TAKE OUR LIVES (Hah. Not bloody likely. Never enter a battle you haven't already won), BUT THEY'LL NEVER TAKE OUR QUANTUM-QUAD-JET NEBULA-SKIS!

Cheers,
Marc (your BFFL)

[LazyScot]

Originally Posted by montsnmags

THEY CAN TAKE OUR LIVES (Hah. Not bloody likely. Never enter a battle you haven't already won), BUT THEY'LL NEVER TAKE OUR QUANTUM-QUAD-JET NEBULA-SKIS!

Look, you can do your Ozzie Braveheart if you like, but I'm not coming out from under the bed in the bunker until someone sounds the all clear and confirms that all the squirrels have been converted to garden compost.

Oh, and I'd be very worried about those squirrels in your cellar. Those pan-dimensional hyperintelligent beings may be planning an escape when you least expect it.... Opening a second front from below and all that. Despite the benefits of terrorising your, um, er, unwelcome visitors, I'd recommend extermination.

[montsnmags]

Originally Posted by LazyScot

Look, you can do your Ozzie Braveheart if you like, but I'm not coming out from under the bed in the bunker until someone sounds the all clear and confirms that all the squirrels have been converted to garden compost.

Oh dear, here we go again. LazyScot, we went through all this last time, with my good friend (the) Pshrynk. You know that your every shout comes to nowt. Remember that last, with your escape plan, and the llamas, and your irrelevant reluctance. Don't make me shake my head in despair and get the hypodermic out again (for your own good, of course).

Oh, and I'd be very worried about those squirrels in your cellar. Those pan-dimensional hyperintelligent beings may be planning an escape when you least expect it.... Opening a second front from below and all that. Despite the benefits of terrorising your, um, er, unwelcome visitors, I'd recommend extermination.

Oh, it's not a cellar, it's a small, dank and dark pit, and the pan-dimensional, hyperintellingent (and hyper-evil) "squirrels" have no need of a plan to escape, as they're not trapped there, but merely visit via numerous pre-drilled bolt-holes (some even live there) because the food is good and regular. Funnily enough, when I just told them that you recommended extermination, they just twinkled their laughing eyes, looked at each other, and said all together in perfect synchonicity, "Tee hee...ironic, yah?". (it was really odd the way they didn't laugh, but actually said, "Tee hee")

Amusing, isn't it? You might want to check your doors and windows.

Cheers,
Marc

[LazyScot]

Originally Posted by montsnmags

Amusing, isn't it? You might want to check your doors and windows.

There are no windows in the bunker, and the door is exceptionally strong. And that rattling sound is not terror and my teeth chattering, its the boxes of "special" chocolate peanuts that I'll defend myself with....

<pause>

looks at marc's avatar.

<pause>

OMG!!! You're a squirrel in kitten's clothing. You've kitnapped the real Marc, haven't you?

<sound of teeth chattering in terror; LazyScot attempts to hide even further under the bed.>

[Slite]

Originally Posted by LazyScot

There are no windows in the bunker, and the door is exceptionally strong. And that rattling sound is not terror and my teeth chattering, its the boxes of "special" chocolate peanuts that I'll defend myself with....

<pause>

looks at marc's avatar.

<pause>

OMG!!! You're a squirrel in kitten's clothing. You've kitnapped the real Marc, haven't you?

<sound of teeth chattering in terror; LazyScot attempts to hide even further under the bed.>

Don't worry, we've taken out the squirrels!

[LazyScot]

Originally Posted by Slite

Don't worry, we've taken out the squirrels!

That's only one. I am not coming out until you've got the lot and Marc is safe (and more importantly his "equipment" is back in saf.., er..., umm... er... not-squirrel paws).

[pshrynk]

Originally Posted by montsnmags

True. The "Missionary" force I've organised for you - comprising of innumerable Tech-Warrior Legions and Mechano-plasma RoBotallions and Dark Energy Waveform Deathsquads - doesn't officially exist, it being strictly a "black ops" affair ostensibly to assist the High Gibbonate in the peaceful dissemination of the Glorious Message of the Incarnation of the Primary Goddess in Your Highness. Also, despite the variety, absolutely none of their weapons (of peace) use "hot lead" in projectile form.

Jet-powered boots though! Remember the jet-powered boots! So you must be some kind of queen.

Cheers,
High Gibbonate and CEO Montsnmags Enterprises (Armoury Division)

I just love reading Marc's postings. And some day I look forward to actually understanding one of them.

[pshrynk]

Originally Posted by montsnmags

Ah, Google...they're so cute when they're angry. So, let's see...here I am with Tech-Warrior Legions, Mechano-plasma RoBotallions and Dark Energy Waveform Deathsquads (and they're just the resources I've assigned to Queen Zee - the Montsnmags Enterprises Armoury and the Evangelist Arm of The Multiversal Church of the Compulsory Gibbon are somewhat more substantially resourced in their, respectively, Customer Base Development Plan and Sacred Conversionary Mission across brane-space), and with my hands holding the purse springs and the big red authority-to-act button of both, and there's a bunch of snooty legal-types for a search-engine-made-good-with-a-new-operating-system-for-archaic-communications-devices-that-don't-even-work-in-sub-space-mode.

Oh, yeah, you better go with Google-No-Evil - their undead lawyers will kep you safe, I'm sure.

Me, I'll be up the front of my fully-armed millions of minions of self-righteously afire Holy Communioners, and leading the ultra-teched and super-forced legions of the Montsnmags Business Enforcement Agency, astride my Quantum-quad-jet nebula-ski (I call her "Queen Zee II"), powered by its sixteen-Schrödinger-cylinder, collapsing waveform, dark-energy-pressure-charged, Higgs-pulse turbine, all of it wrapped in more gun-barrels and pulse-blades and beam-spikes than every crap Hollywood space opera ever made or to be made, ready to leap down to that cocky Page and ballsy Brin and GMail them a both a swift solid kick from my steel-toed, ultramarine, diamante jet-boots straight in their ridiculously roller-blading googly bits.

...

But, you know, everyone's their own person. If you feel that things are better in the bunker or behind some blithering body of Bram Stoker barristers, then, feel free and good luck. However I offer, humbly, assurances that I will always defend and protect the ones I love to the exclusion of all else, no exceptions. I keep my friends close (and my enemies in the small, dank pit filled with blood-hungry squirrels that lies beneath my office).

THEY CAN TAKE OUR LIVES (Hah. Not bloody likely. Never enter a battle you haven't already won), BUT THEY'LL NEVER TAKE OUR QUANTUM-QUAD-JET NEBULA-SKIS!

Cheers,
Marc (your BFFL)

And you put that between your legs? I'm going to have to invent a new form of calculus to determine the bill on this one. I'll send the Luddite around to collect.

[Slite]

Originally Posted by pshrynk

I just love reading Marc's postings. And some day I look forward to actually understanding one of them.

Won't ever happen my friend, Marc is kind of like photons, you think they are there, just not why and what their purpose is. Or is that squirrels... hmmmm

[montsnmags]

Originally Posted by pshrynk

And you put that between your legs? ...

Sweety, with the right kind of pursuasion I'll put it between anyone's legs.

Cheers,
Marc
PS. I'm sorry. I don't know where that came from.

[LazyScot]

Originally Posted by montsnmags

Sweety, with the right kind of pursuasion I'll put it between anyone's legs.

Cheers,
Marc
PS. I'm sorry. I don't know where that came from.

It's no Marc, its a dratted squirrel I tell you. It's just after your pnuts. Be afraid. Be very afraid.....

<LazyScot continues shaking and sweating in terror under the bed in the bunker, and begins to wonder if the drugs might not be such a bad idea....>

[montsnmags]

Originally Posted by LazyScot

It's no Marc, its a dratted squirrel I tell you. It's just after your pnuts

That still could be Marc.

Hey should I be speaking about myself in the third person? It sure is crowded in here...Adrian, go prepare a tray of Zany Carters. That should settle this rabble down.

Cheers,
Marc, Adrian et al

[LazyScot]

Originally Posted by montsnmags

That still could be Marc.

Hey should I be speaking about myself in the third person? It sure is crowded in here...Adrian, go prepare a tray of Zany Carters. That should settle this rabble down.

Cheers,
Marc, Adrian et al

Oh great. The most powerful weaponry known to the universe (not to mention the cocktails) are now in the hands of an alcoholic, halucinating squirrel. I am not feeling better about this.

[nekokami]

Originally Posted by montsnmags

Bram Stoker barristers

Do we take that as a reference to all barristers, or only those employed by Google? Ricky might object to the former, and while her cats have been having fun hiding her electronics under piles of poop, I suspect that deep in their evil little hearts, they're rather protective of her (especially since only one of them has figured out how to open cans, and he won't share), and I have to say, I'd pit Ricky's cats against a horde of squirrels any day.

[montsnmags]

Originally Posted by nekokami

Do we take that as a reference to all barristers, or only those employed by Google?

Google, MS, the RIAA and the MPAA (and so on...)

Ricky might object to the former

She might, and she'd likely be very well-justified. But I wonder how many of the undead she has come across herself.

and while her cats have been having fun hiding her electronics under piles of poop, I suspect that deep in their evil little hearts, they're rather protective of her (especially since only one of them has figured out how to open cans, and he won't share), and I have to say, I'd pit Ricky's cats against a horde of squirrels any day.

Hordes of pan-dimensional, hyper-intelligent meta-evil Pirate Ninja squirrels? That currently infest my armoury? That actually say their laughter (that is, they don't giggle, they just look at you with wild diamante eyes and say "Giggle!!!")?

I mean, sure, there's no way I would go up against Ricky's cats without a pitchfork and a resolute deathwish, but, you know...squirrels - they're more than they seem, and more than the mind can imagine without going rrrriiiIIIIP-POP!-boioioioioinnnnnngggggg. Man, what a rush!

Cherrys,
Cram