alex: Dave! fancy, ah-ha, fancy meeting you again in the lower corridor. Look, I know the last time we visited the kids were cranky and they trashed your place, so why don't you come over here this time? Just keep an eye on the floor, those crazy kids never seem to clean up their toys, especially the ones that run on batteries with the flashy blinking lights.

On Glass Cages:

dobnarr: So, my exec is trying to figure out which intern signed us up for this. That dude is seriously going to be demoted to junior intern.
bigslam:
Hixie:
Carinda: helped i'm trapped on an island and can't swim!

The forward-sorting of this has become particularly irksome now that it's spanning two pages. I'd suggest either flipping the sort for this particular thread (if that's possible), or else starting a new thread.

... or making the "new chat"link to the first unread chat instead of the top of the thread. That would be very nice.

Vynce wrote:

... or making the "new chat"link to the first unread chat instead of the top of the thread. That would be very nice.

rubrick wrote:

Vynce wrote:

... or making the "new chat"link to the first unread chat instead of the top of the thread. That would be very nice.

Yes! What he said.

My staff is working on pagination RIGHT NOW. :-)

dobnarr: Your crazy kids need to get off my lawn, Alex. Where lawn is defined as the whole map. Don't worry, I stocked up on lawn-trespass disincentive devices.
Hixie:
alex: dear lord, Dave, what did you do? WHAT DID YOU DO?!!
rubrick:
Ruth:

Vynce: Poor Paolo...

bigslam: DEAD
Hixie: DEAD
Carinda:

---

Vynce: I *said* .."Poor Paolo..."
bigslam: DEAD
Hixie: DEAD
Carinda: i know.. but he outlived the rest of his tribe.

---

Vynce: Jesus, Paolo!
bigslam: DEAD
Hixie: DEAD
Carinda:

On Aqueduct:

rubrick: "General, I have bad news to report. Our Exec is clearly suicidal. Worse, even if he comes to his senses, our Snipeys are blocking his only line of escape. Also, our Puffer is obstructing our own troops' only line of fire. It's clear your orders were intercepted and replaced by those of an idiot.

On the plus side, our forces will almost certainly avoid the agony of drowning."

---

rubrick: DEAD

Carinda:
rubrick: I'd appreciate it if you'd start doing what I expect, okay?

--

rubrick:
Carinda: i like to defy expectations.

devolver:
dobnarr: Start your engines...
MerryLich: Well, this is the last time we let Exec Fellini do the laundry.

Perhaps we'll have our chemists examine what exactly he did to render our dull grey uniforms, suitable for urban camouflage, into brilliant, unnaturally green beacons.
Hixie:
rubrick: Happy Entrails to you!
--

devolver:
dobnarr: Smoosh them, my pretties...
MerryLich:
Hixie: ok this could go specTACULarly wrong.
rubrick: Silly Fellini. My Exec, Evil Ted, cleverly realized that our usual grey uniforms, suitable for parachuting in on an overcast day, would render us conspicuous in such fine weather as this, and so dyed them sky blue.

That's right: Prepare for the attack of the parachuting disembodied green heads!

---

devolver:
dobnarr: Nuts.
MerryLich: Is that so, Evil Ted? Well, Fellini tells us that his discovery has yielded unexpected results! The brilliant coloration of our new uniforms leads our opponents to believe we are -- shall we say -- underdressed for the occasion!

This effect leads them to involuntarily avert their gazes for fear of basking in our unabashed glory! It's hard enough to shoot straight with one eye, but hitting us is nigh impossible under this awkward duress!
Hixie: I think that went pretty well, all things considered.
rubrick: Ow.

---

devolver:
dobnarr: Captain "Jammies from the Sky" might go down this turn...
MerryLich: Wait a minute... Just how many Fellinis are there?
Hixie:
rubrick: Your faux-nudity plan seems to be working splendidly. Alas, my parachuting plan had a fatal flaw: puffers have no hands with which to pull their ripcords. Poor puffers.

Last edited Sun, 28 Jun 2009, 4:17am by wolff

On Glass Cages:

dobnarr: "Kermit, get me the canoe."
"Sir, we packed the skin cream instead. There is no canoe."
"What?!?"

bigslam: this is going epicly bad
--
bigslam: i think my third marriage to my house cleaner that only lasted 3 days in vegas after which she took me for $2 million went better than this.

Hobett: Tea leaf!

I did not soften up the target for your puffer to waltz across & deliver a Kiss'o'Death'o'gram.

SarMa there are 3 telegrams & a mail shot for you...

---

Hobett: Do you not want your telegrams?
Carinda: there is no SarahMac at this address. please try again.