The Land of Thud
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Thud Post Office
Started on 26-06-2002 04:45:23 GMT
lyric comes in to see if she has any mail...with title and sig suggestions. The building looks rather broken down and messy. A few un-civil servants are standing about chatting. "Excuse me, do I have any mail?" They look at her and go back to their conversations. DO I HAVE ANY MAIL? There should be the latest issue of Martha Stewart in there someplace.
Postal Clerk: What is your address?
lyric: Well I use to live in the Suburb of Doom, but it is all gone now. My name is Lyric
Postal Clerk: Well if you have no address, you can't receive mail
lyric: But I used to have an address
Postal Clerk: Use tos don't count...Next.
Arizu arrives and over hears this. She draws her large sword and presses the tip to the Postal Clerks neck. "Give her, her damn magazine. Or we will never get any dinner"
Postal Clerk: Since you put it like that.. here and you are both under arrest
Nooooooooo wait I need a new title and sig!
I need a new sig and title
Send suggestions to:
lyric
c/o City Hall
Thud City, Thud
Reply on 27/06/2002 00:53:36
horab falls through the rof, adn pulls himself to his feet. he stands at a rather precarious angle, and with a certain steel in his eye.
lyric and penfold, being distracted by horab's falling through the roof, look at him as if expecting he'll have something to stay. the situation continues on like this for some time, then lyric says: do you have any suggestions horab?
horab looks totally aghast at this question, then seemingly gathering his wits about him(in other words his face contorts for a moment or two), begins to speak: frumminin feckers! where those little bastarrrds go?! ir'lll, whryy i'll , what?
lyric:do you have a suggestion for the title and sug?
horab:title anlnd sigggg?
penfold: yes, for that fellow the mayor.
horab:how about, no change under the guise of change in 2002 for the sig, and for the title...
suddenly a leprchaun ran out from the corner of the sales desk, and zipped out the door. horab pulled out a beer and one of his desert eagles. he drank the beer and fired the pistol in the general direction of the wee green man. then slurring something about eating someone for a lunch, he ran out the door. lyric and penfold watch after as horab runs down the street.
Reply on 05/08/2002 23:03:33
The recently installed security doors of the Post Office slide open with a pleasing 'swish swish' noise recognisable to all Star Trek viewers.
A tall becloaked figure strides in, proud of stance and elegant in bearing, sweeping back his cloak as he enters and bringing his gaze to bear upon the minions that scuttle to and fro performing their postal duties. The effect is spoiled somewhat as the dark one trips and lands in a an ungainly heap on the shiny titanium floor.
'Mind the step!' shouts a postal minion.
'Humph' growls the Goth, for it is such a one. 'Perhaps a sign may be in order for a death trap such as that'.
'Wouldn't be much of a security feature then would it?' responds the minion, in the haughty tone of all postal minions everywhere when confronted with any kind of query or complaint.'Gives is a chance to press the alert button and hide'.
The gothic one picks himself up and dusts off his cloak, pointlessly as the floor is coated with an anti-dust resin which not only repels dust, but stops the titanium floor clanking quite so badly.
'I am Legion' he announces to the room.
'Are you in the right place?' asks the minion, who deserves a name at this point, having developed his cameo into a full-on speaking role and a pseudo-character. Jeffery is a suitable name for a postal worker, so Jeffery shall be his name.
'Are you in the right place' asks Jeffery again, with renewed confidence now that his hourly rate had just gone up considerably.
'This is a Post Office, not some kind of biblical studies group'
'Wanker' muttered Legion, then louder,'I am indeed. I have come to post a public announcement. Do you have an allocated space for such an item or shall I as they say, slap it anywhere?'
'Well now, 'said Jeffery 'you see that wall over there with all the notices on it with the big sign over them that reads 'Public Notices''
Legion followed the pointed finger of Jeffery and did indeed see the wall.
'I see it. My apologies, I appear to having difficulty with my vision today'
With that Legion strode over to the wall, somewhat less impressively this time, looking out as he was for concealed deadfalls and pits.
Briefly reading notices about procedures to follow upon finding rogue Chegwins still lurking in the city, Legion proceeded to tack up the notice he produced from his voluminous cloak. It was a fine looking notice, all pseudo-parchment-like and printed in a bold script font, somewhat Germanic in style. It read thusly:
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Guild of Goths and Solipsists
A newly formed Guild to bring together the disparate population of goths, solipsists, and assorted other miserable bastards and to further our aims within the City of Thud. The charter of the Guild is to petition the Council on behalf of members interests, particularly to bring about the end of discrimination, anti-goth apartheid, black clothes bans in certain drinking establishments and to hold regular poetry reading sessions.
Membership fee is One Moist Towelette per year. Guild headquearters are located in the Industrial Sector, two doors down from the Donkey Capers TM Factory.
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His job done, Legion swished out of the Post Office, casting a suspicuous glance at the floor on his way out, and working on a new curse to render all postal workers bald.
"random clever comment/quote to make people think I'm cool"
