Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Birthday Pneumonia

[This one had a couple of extra players make cameos since it was in a Facebook wall post/thread.]

Brad: You are standing in a dimly lit cave. To the EAST is Birthday fandango celebration with cake and prizes. To the SOUTH is CUBA. To the NORTH is CLIFF OF SORROW. To the WEST is OCEAN.
Shay: Go northwest
Scott U: Open the mailbox.
Brad Lewis: CLIFF OF SORROW attacks you with his AXE OF SADNESS. You take 37 damage. He enjoys the fact that he struck you, thereby removing his SORROW. CLIFF OF SORROW is vanquised. You have won.
Brad Lewis: However, CLIFF'S AXE OF SADNESS left you near death, vulnerable to pneumonia.
Patrick H: ‎/help
Shay: examine Scott
Brad: You regard Scott U. with utter contempt, as he is wearing the wrong kind of plaid shorts.
Shay: examine mailbox
Brad: The mailbox has been wrenched from the ground, and tossed against the brick wall of an ancient KEEP. Its contents strewn across the dusty ground. Many small ANTS have decided to crawl this way and that among the LETTERS and one PACKAGE of CANDIED FRUITS.
Shay: eat candied fruits
Brad: The CANDIED FRUITS were laced with NEUROTOXIN and PNEUMONIA SALT. You have lost 99% of your health.
Shay: stomp ants angrily
Brad: You cannot. You lack the strength. The ants do, however, now notice you and begin their slow, menacing march toward your soon to be corpse.
Shay: examine pneumonia
Brad: You begin a moment of self reflection, as you sense the PNEUMONIA attacking your body. You hardly even notice the ANTS begin to remove your body parts and bring the pieces down to their queen.
Shay: inventory
Shay: check health
Brad: Your health is at .00000000021 %
Shay: examine queen
Brad: Queen are a British rock band formed in London in 1971, originally consisting of Freddie Mercury (lead vocals, piano), Brian May (guitar, vocals), John Deacon (bass guitar, guitars), and Roger Taylor (drums, vocals). Queen's earliest works were influenced by progressive rock, but the band gradually ventured into more conventional and radio-friendly works, incorporating more diverse and innovative styles in their music.
Shay: ask freddie mercury for help
Brad: Syntax Error (Also, he is dead.)
Shay: use timehoppin pants to return to pre-pneumonia state
Brad: You activate the TIMEHOPPIN PANTS to return to Idaho in the early Mesozoic era. A fine Pre-pneumonia State.
Shay: stand up
Brad: You stagger to your feet, stepping on a bug, which in the future would have become CLIFF OF SORROW. You defeat him before you defeat him via time paradox. You have unlocked achievement BUGSTEP. You hear a lot of robot music and begin to feel better. Eventually you heal, and become comfortable living out your days in prehistoric Idaho.
Brad: POINTS - 28
Shay: aww, I finally won one... thanks for the birthday present Brad. :)

Wednesday, July 20, 2011


Shay: so I have a question for you
Shay: did you actually have chicken pot pie on Monday?
Shay: and also, why did you choose to post on facebook about it out of the blue? and also, how friggin weird is it that we were having chicken pot pie as well? :O
Shay: you creep me out sometimes with your psychic nature
Shay: and your drinking of tapioca-flavored human blood
Shay: but mostly the chicken pot pie stuff
Brad: Shay, if I told you, you wouldn't be able to handle it
Brad: no
Shay: ;_;
Shay: so how you doing? can we bring you guys some meals? and see teh bebe?
Brad: yessir!
Shay: yay!
Shay: it will be chicken pot pie with a blood tapioca dessert, of course
Brad: Bloodpioca
Brad: So but seriously, you don't know how it is I can psychically discern when you're eating chicken pot pie?
Brad: Tell me your feelings when you read my post, and realized I knew what you were eating, as if I was eating it with you.
Shay: in my head, that musical sting from Inception played, several times in a row - BWOOOOWWWWWWW.... BWOWWWWWW
Brad: yesssss.
Shay: it was like the twist ending of a M. Night Shyamalyan movie... "HE KNEW YOU WERE EATING CHICKEN POT PIE ALL ALONG"
Brad: I imagined also a nice focus pull
Shay: exactly, like in Vertigo
Brad: yep
Shay: we could do this for 2 hours... just an opening scene of us eating chicken pot pie, then we put our dishes away, I look at Facebook and see your post, and then these effects for the remaining 110 minutes of screen time:
Shay: my mind being blown
Shay: the camera zooming in from across the room into my retina
Shay: and then a cut to you outside our window, grinning maniacally and eating chicken pot pie
Shay: laughing with the crumbs in your mouth
Brad: it's what I do
Brad: I love it when your programmer mind is stumped by my right brained whimsy.
Shay: so my guess is that it was all coincidence and randomness.
Shay: but I know that now you have this over me you'll never reveal the truth.
Shay: and I can accept and respect that. it's the right move in fact.
Shay: my left brain will have to rest without having this puzzle solved, somehow, and just go back to throbbing.
Brad: Your m... no, too easy.
Shay: dang it
Brad: Truthfully it was all a coincidence, that I leveraged into your paranoia.
Shay: you're good at that
Brad: ...
Brad: unless it wasn't
Shay: :O
Shay: so speaking of which, I've been a bit obsessed with magicians and con artists, lately
Brad: That's interesting
Brad: Mm pizza
Shay: nice guess but I'm not eating pizza
Brad: Neither am I
Brad: I just like it
Shay: it is good
Shay: hmm
Brad: You know, the day I posted about potpie. I had a strange urge to post that and didn't know why
Brad: now I do... it is my destiny to mess with you
Shay: don't tell me that man
Shay: that's happening again
Shay: I don't have time for all these bwows happening to me
Shay: man
Brad: It's true. I have a psychic link to your eating habits
Brad: Or to all chicken pot pies, one of the two
Shay: actually, I think the meal Laura was planning to make for y'all was pizza
Brad: see?
Shay: so you're creeping me out again
Brad: I knew pizza was in your future
Shay: although now I think that you already heard that from Katie talking to Laura and then you, and you're trying to mess with my head again
Brad: no, actually, I didn't
Shay: stop that!
Shay: >:-|
Brad: well, you're not alone
Brad: kate hates when I guess things too
Brad: take your dog outside
Shay: I'm not at home
Shay: nice try though
Brad: It's not a perfect science
Brad: What if you heighten my psychic ability to the point of superpower? But you get no noticable effect from interacting with me other than being slightly annoyed?
Shay: are you suggesting that I'm heightening your ability in this way right now, through trial and error?
Brad: I knew you were going to ask that
Shay: okay, then. Think of a card, right now
Shay: let me know when you have it in mind
Shay: any card
Brad: Nvidia
Shay: okay any card that would come in a deck of playing cards
Brad: Oh
Brad: Joker
Shay: just tell me when you think of it, don't tell me what it is
Shay: okay that's what I was going to guess, but you weren't supposed to say it.
Shay: pick another one
Shay: tell me when you have it
Brad: instruction card
Shay: ...
Shay: okay that was my second guess but YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO TELL ME WHAT IT IS
Brad: I think I have proven my point.

Thursday, May 12, 2011


Brad: You have been killed. Your soul stands at the dock of the river Styx. You see the boat to the other side approaching.
Shay: examine boat
Brad: The boat seems hewn of living bone, the steersman is awash in black. He appears to be listening to a walkman.
Shay: dip self in styx
Brad: Don't understand "self"
Shay: examine walkman
Brad: The walkman appears to be playing a cassette tape of ZZTop's Afterburner album.
Shay: say hey man what's up?
Shay: say you come here often?
Shay: say I guess so huh? so what's it like down here?
Brad: Don't understand "inane small talk"
Shay: say fine then
Shay: enter boat
Brad: As you enter the boat, the steersman presents a bony hand, desiring your tokens for passing ....
Shay: take coins from eyes
Brad: You remove your coins from your eyes. A blinding red laser now emits forth, puncturing the boat, drowning the steersman, short circuiting the walkman, and endangering the hobbits at your feet.
Shay: say whoa, sorry man
Shay: put coin on left eye
Shay: squint right eye
Brad: Don't understand 'whoa'
Brad: game over
Brad: Score 0
Shay: restart
Brad: beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.......* You have been awakened to the sound of a defibrilator. You stare up at the doctor from the hospital gurney.
Brad: The doctor says "We thought we lost you"
Shay: say what happened i was in heaven
Shay: say put me back
Shay: say nah I'm just kiddin ya man, it's good to be back
Brad: The doctor says "By lost, I mean, lost. You've been locked in the broom closet for a week. No one knew where you were."
Shay: examine doctor
Brad: The doctor says "Whoa now, big fella, I'll be doing the examining here." then hands you a lollipop.
Shay: examine room
Brad: You are in a very large examination room. The doctor is smiling at you as he fills out his chart. you are sitting on the examination table, a bit disoriented.
Shay: remember
Brad: You remember horribly murdering death himself on his pleasure boat down at the river styx. You also remember the screams of the hobbits you incinerated.
Shay: smile
Brad: You bare your teeth
Shay: ask doctor about death
Brad: You attempt to speak, but the doctor just ignores you, finishes his chart, and walks out of the enormous examining room as the nurse comes in and fits you with a restraining collar and chain.
Shay: smile
Brad: You bare your teeth again, slobbering on the countertop
Shay: examine nurse
Brad: you sniff the nurse. She swats you with a rolled up newspaper.
Shay: say hey baby what's happening
Brad: You growl at the nurse.
Shay: heck yeah I do
Shay: stand up
Brad: You have raised your point of view approximately one foot
Shay: examine self
Brad: You are a dog.
Shay: howl sadly
Shay: bay, even.
Brad: You bay as the doctors lead you out of the examination room.
Shay: run like the dickens
Shay: poop everywhere
Brad: You begin to run like Charles Dickens, in a sad, gloomy way. Pooping as you go. Until you realize your family is happy to see you, grinning at your misunderstood running style and tolerant of your uncontrollable bowel function.
Shay: wag tail!
Brad: As you are reunited with your family, in a group hug, a man with an insanely long beard outside removes the coins from his eyes, and burns the place down, killing all inside.
Brad: Game over
Brad: score 12
Shay: brad
Brad: yes?
Shay: why does everyone have lasereyes?
Brad: It's Lasereye Village
Brad: it says so on the top of the game cabinet
Shay: of course.
Shay: eat lollipop.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

"Nobody stops a man carrying balloons."

Shay: more photos of me:
Brad: what
Shay: photos from the Cap 10k on Sunday
Brad: what were you running from that can't be dealt with via conventional means of mediation?
Shay: a BUNCH of people
Shay: it was scary
Brad: you shouldn't be around people
Brad: that would fix it
Shay: that's one solution
Brad: The other solution is to pay a group of swiss scientists to develop hummingbirds insect hybrids that only want to suck the eyeball juice out of your enemies, and sneak in under cover of darkness and set them upon your enemies.
Shay: but how would I transport them Brad?
Shay: that's the snag I keep running into with that plan
Brad: inside balloon,s obviously
Brad: nobody stops a man carrying balloons
Brad: and since they're humminbirds, they can just hover inside
Brad: think!
*Shay smacks his head so hard he dies instantly*
Shay: of course!
Brad: Except the other flaw in your plan is, if people sleep with sunglasses.
Shay: well no one would do that unless they wanted to keep track, keep track of the visions in their eyes.
Brad: Although once they get word that their cohorts in crime are waking up to a eyeball juice sucking proboscis lodged in their seein' holes, they're apt to stop their tomfoolery.
Shay: hmm
Shay: these are valid concerns.
Brad: ...
Brad: you should ... sleep on it
Shay: ...
*Brad plays a lullabye*
*Shay puts on sunglasses over the sunglasses he already has on*
Brad: NO
*Shay says a clever quip and then music by The Who plays*
Brad: that only angers them!
*Brad 's balloons all pop*

Friday, January 14, 2011

Fingernail in the Coffin

Brad: Shay
Brad: do you realize we have new followers on our textellent adventures?
Brad and Shay turn to look at the audience.
Shay : ooh

Shay : well you linked it on
Brad: yes
Brad: and slothfurnace has gotten (checks statistics) 8491269 hits just in January
Shay : wow
Shay : it's almost like we should do another one or something ... sys32592
Brad: Welcome to LaundryLauncher! Please insert 0.75 cents.
Shay : insert coins
Brad: Please enter kind of coins inserted: ________
Shay : doubloons
Brad: You awaken in a large, dilapidated Laundromat. It is dusk outside, and you are alone. Beyond the grimy windows you hear a faint shuffling.
Shay : look
Brad: You see a large, dilapidated Laundromat. Banks of aged, abandoned washing machines sit alone, yearning for the days gone by when they cheerfully accepted peoples dirty clothes into their gaping maws. One machine in particular has it's door opening and closing rhythmically. A heap of clothes below it.
Shay : look clothes
Brad: You stand next to the heap of clothes. Darks and whites, and colors haphazardly mixed together with no regard for color bleed or dingy whites.
Shay : tsk
Shay : sort out whites
Brad: Don't understand "out"
Shay : sort whites
Brad: Son't understand Dort
Shay : look Dort
Brad: You glance at Dort, your biomechanical sidekick. He has been deactivated, and his robotparts removed. He was a good cyborg chum. He will be missed.
Shay : look rhythmically gaping washer
Brad: You bend down to examine the gaping washer.... you hear a kind of mechanical wind. almost a breathing noise as the door opens and closes. The washing machine seems oddly tilted, as if it wasn't installed correctly.
Shay : put whites in machine
Brad: RACISM - BAD - MINUS 45 points
Shay : put white clothes in machine
Brad: You attempt to place colorless clothing into the washing machine.. as you open the door, the washing machine suddenly snorts to life and attempts to bite your hand off. You drop the clothes and scamper away as a whole flock of washing machine monsters wake up and detect your intrusion into their hive. ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED - AGITATION CYCLE
Shay : look for exit
Brad: Don't understand "For"
Shay : look exit
Brad: You assume the shape of an exit. The hordes of demon appliances escape through you into dimensions unknown.
Shay : look at self
Brad: You have no mirror
Shay : i
Brad: You are carrying: 0.75 cents, A map of DETROIT, two tickets to the county faire, a SKELETON KEY
Shay : shape shift into roboparts
Brad: You cannot do that
Shay : exit through self
Brad: There are demons in there, you don't want to go to there.
Shay : look windows
Brad: You view a shattered dystopia. The streets cluttered with trash and debris. A newspaper outside catches your eye. In 48pt bold Helvetica (above the fold) it reads: "CATASTROPHE!" Below it in 24 pt bold Garamond, the kicker reads: "Full story of how we are doomed below the fold."
Shay : Read story
Brad: The rest of the story is folded underneath the newspaper.
Shay : look
Brad: You stand inside an abandoned Laundromat. One wall of machines gone, the lint and errant coins litter the floor where they once stood. The walls bare except for the windows you are looking through and the doorway clearly marked EXIT to you left.
Shay : exit
Brad: You easily exit the Laundromat. You are standing in a cluttered street. A newspaper at your feet. A skittering noise turns your head to see some wires and tubing creeping away from you around the corner.
Shay : take newspaper, examine fonts in greater detail
Brad: You regard the font choices, layout and headline design in great admiration. The cool, sharp sans serif leaping of the page into your eyeholes and reminding you of the days when newspapers were read by men and women. The faint aroma of ink sends chills down your spine.
Shay : look hands
Brad: You are holding a newspaper which contains the fate of your people. Why they would stop to make a run of printed news while being wiped out tugs at your brain, but is a mystery for another time.
Shay : drop newspaper, check cleanliness of hands
Brad: You drop the newspaper, as it falls to the ground it shatters into dust, as it was extremely old. Your hands are perfectly clean, no OIL or harm is present.
Shay : check fingernails
Brad: Your fingernails are all missing.
Shay : scream
Brad: As you lift your head to scream, you realize screaming would only alert predators to your location. And that's exactly what they're expecting.
Shay : listen
Brad: You faintly hear the sounds of a carnival merry go round off in the distance to the WEST. You also hear the rumblings of the DEMON WASHING MACHINES forever banished to your insides.
Shay : w
Brad: You have voted for George W. Bush. Welcome to the GOP
Shay : undo
Shay : undoundoundoundoundo
Shay : go west
Shay : press TURBO button
Brad: You now enjoy the scent of cake.
Shay : release the demonic washing machines
Brad: You release the imprisoned washing machine monsters. They encircle you, regarding your "I Voted For Dubya" wardrobe. Collectively they decide you should be torn asunder for your opinionated political display, and your lack of adherence to constitutional law, which prohibits time travel voting. As you mildly protest being eaten by washing machines, a parade of possessed household appliances wanders by singing in the "49th annual extinction of humans day parade"
Brad: You have died
Brad: Score: 482 Score Tax: 15%. Total Score: 86
Shay : check fingernails
Brad: With your last effort, you watch your fingernails at the controls of the foremost parade float. They have done this. They are the reason for the season. Game Over.
Shay : wow
Brad: Bet you didn't see that coming.
Shay : so is that, like, an allegory? a cautionary tale? about the danger of giving too much control to presidents, and/or fingernails?
Brad: Obviously your fingernails took over the world in 2012, and ushered in the rise of sentient evil household appliances.
Shay : because of their cunning use of fonts, which they used to distract the people from both the oncoming machine uprising and peoples' evolved abilities to turn into exits.
Brad: It's essentially a tale of two cities meets Alias Smith and Jones.
Brad: had you figured out that you were only holding 3/4 of a penny the whole time, you might have survived
Shay : ah, of course, it was so obvious.
Brad: But yeah, you lost anyway.

Monday, November 15, 2010

First-Person Adventure

Shay:       if you like platformers, especially hard platformers
Shay:       play Super Meat Boy
Shay:       just an FYI
Brad:   Your mom likes to play super meatboy, but it's not a platformer
Shay:       it's not hard either.
Brad:   ohsnap
Brad:   I see what you did
Brad:   wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
Brad:   oops
Brad:   I was pressing W to go forward
Brad:   .... in this chat window.  Doesn't work
Shay:       You are in a grassy meadow. You are holding a wooden pickaxe. There is a cube sun in the sky above you. Before you is tree, a pig, and an infinite plane of random mountains.
Brad:   dig hole
Brad:   in pig
Shay:    don't understand "dig". or "in".
Brad:   harvest sweet sweet bacon
Shay:    don't understand "harvest"
Brad:   taste bacon
Shay:    don't understand "taste"
Brad:   load bacon
Shay:    don't understand "load". HINT: This game only accepts standard FPS commands.
Brad:   right click
Shay:    you hit the pig with your pickaxe. it squeals and dies. bacon lies directly before you.
Brad:   left click
Shay:    you collect the bacon.
Shay:    the cubic sun moves slightly lower towards the horizon
Brad:   w
Shay:    you move 1 foot north.
Brad:   wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
Shay:    you move 5 feet north. a tree is now before you
Brad:   ddddwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwddddwwwaawwwssssss
Brad:   spacebar
Brad:   sssssssssssssssa
Shay:    you move 4 ft east, 15 ft north, 4 more ft east, and jump off a mountain
Shay:    you have died
Shay:    the cubist sun sinks a bit lower.
Brad:   esc
Shay:    select option: respawn, adjust sound, adjust graphics, load new level, load multiplayer
Brad:   X
Shay:    nothing happens.
Brad:   ctrl alt del
Shay:    here are your running processes: GTalk.exe, IQpierce.exe, Photoshop.exe
Brad:   iqpierce.exe
Shay:    what do you want to do to IQpierce.exe?
Brad:   kill process
Shay is now offline.
Brad: Shay?
Shay is currently offline. Your messages will not be received.
Shay is currently offline. Your messages will not be received.

Thursday, September 9, 2010

The Gravy Yard

Shay: I wonder if people at the state fair have made friend creamed corn.
Brad: ...
Shay: fried creamed corn
Shay: not friend
Brad: yes
Shay: that n makes a big difference.
Brad: hahah yes it does
Shay: could be good though
Brad: I tell you, my idea of a chain of fastfood joints that only sell fair food is one of my better ideas
Brad: it would make million
Shay: I don't think most people want that year round, also remember that people successfully sued McDonalds for a lot of money
Brad: those two things aren't related
Shay: your customers will all die
Brad: but I will have all their sweet sweet cash
Brad: now THAT is the best slogan I have ever heard
Brad: "Welcome to Fair Food. Our customers will all die."
Shay: It's the new "I'm Lovin' It".
Brad: "I'm Dyin from it"
Shay: haha
Shay: "I'm Luggin' It"
Brad: The kids behind the counter have to wear grim reaper outfits
Shay: so the people sitting behind me are now talking about fried butter from the fair
Shay: this is weird
Shay: totally a coincidence, I didn't incite this conversation at all.
Brad: it is the shining
Shay: now they devised something called a "Meat Pillow"
Shay: which would have "Beef Curtains" on the side... and now their conversation is officially out of HR-approved territory
Brad: This is almost as good as my mall foodcourt restaurant idea
Brad: The GravyYard
Brad: it's a halloween themed condiment kiosk.
Shay: well you can combine these man
Shay: call your fair food restaurant The Gravy Yard; have them also serve gravy-heavy items, and wear grim reaper outfits
Shay: and use the slogan "Die Happy."
Shay: I think we have a solid concept here.
Brad: ...Fried Gravy
Shay: oh man
Shay: all right you have to make that now, and release it at the fair, and WIN THE FAIR.
Shay: man
Shay: my mouth is watering right now
Brad: You dip your fried gravy in buckets of steak
Shay: hahahahahaha
Brad: or, meatbuckets
Shay: steak sauce
Shay: ...sauce made of pureed steak!
Brad: You must now salivate
Shay: Oh I'm there
Brad: ...fried gravy.
Shay: it's genius, Brad.
Brad: I am a ninja of nom