*shoots the board*

[BlueCross]

*misses, fires again...*

*shoots self in foot*

*misses, tries again...*

*hits Than in ass*

Hmm...  guess I'll settle for that.

[AcdQueen89]

i think we all can as well.

are you buying?

[Doombot]

I think it's Create a story again.

...and Bluecross held up the magic apple and looked at it longingly. The dwarf that traveled on his back was hungry as well. However Bluecross knew the decision that he had to make. He brought the apple to his lips quickly but the dwarf distracted him with his beard. The thousands of hairs scratched Bluecross in the eyes and he and took the apple.

The dwarf wiped off the reside of BlueCross's lips from the skin on the apple and bit into the sweet delicious fruit.

"Aye, I have tasted an apple so sweet since that time...."

[AcdQueen89]

"Aye, I have tasted an apple so sweet since that time...."

"...my brothers and I met that little girl with the dark hair."

Had the dwarf not spontaneously decided to stare off into a flashback he would have noticed a softly glowing figure slide out of the monument erected for a fox not seen in these parts for many a day. The figure crossed paths with many on his way to the Bastard Bar but nobody noticed him in a rush to find the cowsuit for a new arrival that the current sentry said was on the horizon...

[BlueCross]

As it turned out, the softly glowing figure turned out to be nothing more than a slightly irradiated Swash who was trying to cover his blemishes with a newly invented Invisibility Cloak, and we all know why that didn't work.  And the new arrival on the horizon turned out to be a Figment as Night Owl was on duty as the sentry, and someone had foolishly  included 17 quart bottles of ale in his lunch.  It really wouldn't matter that much except that his snoring kept the entire Village awake, and thus the rush on the Bastard Bar.  Since Night Owl wasn't there, we all knew there would be enough ale for everyone.

Anyway...  it was a dark and stormy bar, where patrons wallowed in their misery because despite the plethora of multi-colored ales, it was soon discovered that the Bastard Bar...

[Thanatos]

Look, I refuse to participate in any story where Bluecross hits me in the ass.  I mean, I love him, I think we're brothers born a year or two apart, but I've got rules, you know.

I dunno what to tell you, Blue, I don't know how to make it interesting again.  Back when I was 15 the board sorta evolved organically, but that was during the burgeoning rise of the internet as a whole; I'm not sure if we can pull something like that off again. I wasn't even there for the genesis, so I can't act too pro.

I freely admit that I kinda pretended to be a rebel from time to time when I was working from 15-20, what can I say, everybody's young and retarded once.  I desperately wanted to be a member of the board while making it clear that I didn't care if the board liked me.  Man, silly as hell!

Anyway, yeah, man, I dunno.  I'm still writing!  What about you?

[Thanatos]

Also, I don't want to kill the thread/divert from the theme, so.

. . .  it was soon discovered that the Bastard Bar is not a bar where the patrons wallow in their misery.  The Bastard Bar is a bar for fuckin' bastards who made their choices and stand by them.  The various Bastards threw drinks at each other, and belched, and started telling stories of the right way to rock out . . .

[BlueCross]

Look, I refuse to participate in any story where Bluecross hits me in the ass.  I mean, I love him, I think we're brothers born a year or two apart, but I've got rules, you know.

'Year' or two?  I think you spelled 'generations' incorrectly.

I freely admit that I kinda pretended to be a rebel from time to time when I was working from 15-20, what can I say, everybody's young and retarded once. 

True, true.  But I admire the way you've managed to extend it well into your twenties.  Nice job!

I desperately wanted to be a member of the board while making it clear that I didn't care if the board liked me. 

Uh... and here I had always thought this was a requirement.

Anyway, yeah, man, I dunno.  I'm still writing!  What about you?

I've still got it in me, but I seem to have some issues getting it out of me.

[Doombot]

Also, I don't want to kill the thread/divert from the theme, so.

. . .  it was soon discovered that the Bastard Bar is not a bar where the patrons wallow in their misery.  The Bastard Bar is a bar for fuckin' bastards who made their choices and stand by them.  The various Bastards threw drinks at each other, and belched, and started telling stories of the right way to rock out . . .

At least until the vampires showed up. "Sooooookieeeeeeeeee!" "Sooooo.....keeeeeeeeeeeeeey?", cried out the gaunt vampire with 1950's hair. Alas, it was the wrong bar and Sookie had long ago perished in the atomic fires. The ability to read minds only amplified her suffering as she felt the screams of the dead around her.

The bartender looked around and shook his head. "I need a better clientele... like the kind that will pay."

"I know... I'll turn the bar into a...."

[BlueCross]

At least until the vampires showed up. "Sooooookieeeeeeeeee!" "Sooooo.....keeeeeeeeeeeeeey?", cried out the gaunt vampire with 1950's hair. Alas, it was the wrong bar and Sookie had long ago perished in the atomic fires. The ability to read minds only amplified her suffering as she felt the screams of the dead around her.

The bartender looked around and shook his head. "I need a better clientele... like the kind that will pay."

"I know... I'll turn the bar into a...."

"Sewing Club!  And have twelve different types of Chai tea on tap!  I've got these great new patterns for mittens that----"  The bartender is suddenly overwhelmed by nauseous patrons who attacked him while screaming "Sacrilege!  Sacrilege!" and holding the UV charter in their upraised left hand. 

"Look!" yelled Doomsie.  "It's not the Real Bartender at all!"  It's...