07-03-2003 23:18									#1
	Apolyton Wars - A new story adventure Suffering from ads?

Okay, I think the last one of these we did was the World Cup saga, which was quite fun. I think it's time for a new light-hearted romp. I'm not sure if there are rules, but I'd say in general:

1) Try to continue the story in reasonably long posts, not short sentences.
2) Try not to destroy previous posters' plot threads. Changing direction a little is fine, but people tend to get pissed if everything they've worked on gets junked by the next poster
3) Of course, it's all in fun. Meanness that seems deliberate is not cool.

So...

A FAIRLY LONG TIME AGO, IN A GALAXY NONE TOO CLOSE TO OUR OWN...

*Cue music*


It is a dark yet still colorful time for the reactionary forces of the Galaxy. In a stunning election upset, the Gay Federalists were swept into victory, taking over the entire government. Acting under a mandate for urgent reforms, the new PRESIDENT STARCHILD has instituted martial law and seized dictatorial powers, proclaiming the new GAYLACTIC EMPIRE. Now, the massive, fabulously-color coordinated armies of the Empire have brought the President's iron grip all across the realm.

However, a small, shabbily dressed band of resistors has taken refuge in the outskirts of the galaxy, doing its best to ward off the advances of the menacingly mauve Gaylactic Storm Cadets, bent on recruitment to their ranks and stamping out the fashionably inferior. The President's chief agent of homoterror, DARTH REDFERN, has been sent to deal with the problem.

Even more terrifying, there are rumors of a new superweapon, a massive battle station known as the Pride Star, a devastating weapon concocted by the region's dashingly handsome Imperial Governor, GRAND ADMIRAL GODUNOV, which is capable of transforming an entire planet into a festive, cosmo-drinking land of hedonism and immaculate front lawns. With this new weapon, the Empire hopes to crush the resistance and bring tasteful, bright and cheery order to the galaxy...


*Large letters roll into the distance...*

	07-03-2003 23:49									#2
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...suddenly, there was a large atomic blast, and everyone was deep fried in a matter of seconds.

The end

Great thread Boris

	07-03-2003 23:51									#3
	Inflate your Upload Space

You're such a bastard.

I'll try to add something in, I dunno, fifty hours or so, when I've got the time.

	07-03-2003 23:52									#4
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So we'll ignore orange (I know, happens all the time ).

Loinburger gets dibs on next post, then. Unless you need me to set up the story more?

	07-03-2003 23:55									#5
	Inflate your Upload Space

quote: Originally posted by Boris Godunov Loinburger gets dibs on next post, then.

Don't do that, otherwise the thread will be locked down for the next fifty hours. If I come back to the thread in two days and find that my post won't fit, then I'll just come up with some bullshit to fill in the gaps and make it fit. It's a knack of mine.

	08-03-2003 00:41									#6
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It all began with Jack, the militaristic psychopath armed with more guns than a Libertarian on a spending spree. He had once been a member of the Glorious Empire until he discovered the awful, awful truth. The Empire was not built upon a foundation of blood and slavery.

	08-03-2003 00:51									#7
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Who's Jack? The idea is to use Apolytoners as characters.

	08-03-2003 00:54									#8
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A big, massive, enormous ship lounged around in the sky. It moved through space as if it owned the damned place. It was just so massively amazingly BIG! That made it stand out among the stars... that and the tie dye on the side of it. It was the home of the Emperor Starchild, and he was just out taking it for a ride. Along the way, it had been dragging some minor planets quite a way outside their gravitational field and dropped them somewhere next to a black hole.

Starchild: SPRING CLEANING! I try every year to get these non-fabulous planets from litting my beautiful empire. There are just too many of them.

Starchild remembered his new experiment and called General Gudunov on the viewscreen. The General was in military uniform, which had just been changed to tight, tight leather, with crotch coverings optional. He wore a sailor hat, which was so old that it might have belonged to the first Village People.

Starchild: GENERAL, how is my ray?

General: It is going well, your fabulousness.

Starchild: Do we have a practice planet?

General: Yes, your gayness. The planet Falwell.

Starchild: God, I hate those fags.

General: *gasp*

Starchild: Oh... um... I mean, I hate those evil, bad men. They deserve to be spanked.

General: Oh yes, and so do I!

Starchild: What?

General: Um... I mean, and so do I, your gayness!

Starchild: Better..... maybe later. Dismissed.

The new weapon was the most horrendous thing every conceaved: The FABULOUS RAY! It turned entire populations into tye dye wearing, clean men who always remembered to keep the toilet seat down. Oh, and it also turned everyone gay. In planets without intravitro fertilization, it meant death in one generation. Of course, if the citizens affected were ultra-religious, they'd commit such mass suicide as to make Dr. Kevorkian weep.

The inhabitants of Planet Falwell had no idea what they were in for.

	08-03-2003 00:57									#9
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Tsk, tsk. Keep the titles right, at least! PRESIDENT Starchild, and GRAND ADMIRAL Boris.

	08-03-2003 01:00									#10
	Avatar Enlargement: We've got the solution

My story arch, I make it as I please .

	08-03-2003 02:47									#11
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On the remote desert planet of fubutooine, young Albert Speerwalker was kicking sand. Furious at hearing the ringing voices in his head, he pulled out a 9mm and shot at a random moisture farming device.
"****ing can't go to get power converters ****heads! they don't know what it's LIKE in this desert ghetto! I got nothin' nothing! No food, no shelter, all these sluts go walkin' round and I try to protect em and what do I get? Gaaaaaarrrrr!"

All of a sudden, he saw a bright light flash across the sky, surely an escape pod from some starship in distress. He didn't really care though.

	08-03-2003 03:34									#12
	Full PM-box? Change here!

This is where I come in

Frusterated with his dull, and pathetic life on fubutooine, Albert Speerwalker hops into his hovercar and dashes across the gritty desert.

"I'm so bored I might as well check out that escape pod."

Meanwhile, from his cave on the desert fringe, obiwan18 kenobi feels a disturbance in the force.

	08-03-2003 03:42									#13
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But he couldn't see Datajack the sage, he who spoiled him for the first time in his life

	08-03-2003 03:44									#14
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Longer story posts

	08-03-2003 03:51									#15
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What do you expect from today's youth

	08-03-2003 04:01									#16
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Meanwhile, yet again, despite being both a prolific well-known and well-loved(!?!) poster, Stefu doesn't get used in a story.

	08-03-2003 04:20									#17
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Stefu the protocol droid lies upside-down in the sand...

Happy?

	08-03-2003 04:30									#18
	Inflate your Upload Space

I have a piece of the story ready.

	08-03-2003 04:34									#19
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( You asked for it, Stefu. )

Grand Admiral Boris returned to his quarters. His main room was an astonishingly designed, and well decorated. The leather covered sofa, The elegant carpet, and the penis-shaped videophone stand in the corner, they all came together to form a masterpiece of enterior design.

In a couple of hours, they'll arrive to the target planet, Boris thought, testing their newest weaponary in the goal of spreading joy and pride throughout the universe. Another planet converted to follow the design and the aesthetics of Starchild. Another great victory, he mused. Is there anything yet to do, any challenge left?

The sound of the intercom ring, no matter how sweet and soothing, interfered with his thoughts. A very rare occurance, since the Admiral's mandatory beauty sleep was a steel-strong ritual, and anyone disturbing him, had better have a pretty marvellous reason to do it, .. or else. "Who is it?" Boris, irritated, asked.

"It's me, sir, Stefu, I am sorry to interrupt your sleep, your gayness, But this is very important", a high-pitched voice, answered on the other side.

"Come in, Stefu" Boris said, somewhat surprised. Stefu had his weird moments, but he would never be stupid enough to interrupt the sleep of the grand admiral. He must have brought some truly disturbing news.

"I am so sorry, master, to interrupt your beauty sleep" , said Stefu. Boris, looked at him and smiled. Stefu, a four-feet tall transsexual, was a long time operative for the empire. Enlisted back in the Liberation wars, he's been a loyal servant to Starchild and the Pantheon much before the empire came into being, providing top-notch human intelligence resources, from behind enemy lines.

"so what is it, Stefu", asked Boris.

"sweet sir, I think me may have a problem".

	08-03-2003 04:35									#20
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This avatar looks somehow easy to get banned with

	08-03-2003 04:55									#21
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Mwahahaha, I weaseled out of rehearsal tonight...woohoo!

Stefu: We were on PAGE ONE for pete's sake. Well, Az gave ya what ya asked for

-------------------------------------------

Mere minutes before Albert Speerwalker had seen the pod fall to his planet, the following occured in space high above:

Turbolaser blasts rocked the tiny, squat and squarish (and hideous) cruiser as it desperately made a hopeless bid to outrun the massive, phallic Gaylactic Imperial Battleship that pursued it.

Inside, the prissy golden robot, Asher-P0, trundled down the smoke-filled, undulating corridors of the ship, accompanied by his diminutive sidekick, UR-D2.

"Oh! This is awful! The Empire will capture Princess BlackWidow for certain this time, UR!"

"BEEP-boop-BRRRR-BEEP-boop"

"What was that? I didn't follow."

"BEEP-BEEP-boop-boop-BLIP-brrrr"

"Eh? Sorry, that just seemed to be a bunch of senseless beeping. I told them they shouldn't have programmed you using Linu--"

Abruptly, Asher-P0 stopped in his tracks, his limbs sagged and his eyes flashed blue. After a few seconds, UR emitted an electronic sigh, rolled over to him, and pressed the three buttons on Asher-P0's back simultaneously.

"--nux. Oh dear. What, another reboot? Well, must be the software."

Another explosion rocked the vessel. Then, a loud hum washed over the ship as it was sucked into the Imperial Battleship's cavernous docking bay...

	08-03-2003 05:42									#22
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In the outskirts of the galaxy, on a lost planet, at 1200 OT (Outskirts Time), the Commodore Ming, agitated by dark thoughts, was parading before the 12 men. He suddenly stopped and said :

You have demonstrated for years that you were unable to achieve anything even remotely useful. Any attempt to give you a mission resulted in disorganization, troubles, failure. The time has come where your special skills will find a way to serve our cause. Marshal DAVOUT, head of the General Head Quarter, has decided to set up a Trouble-Makers Corps, and this new corps will include a Dialectical Division. Considering your reputation and past accomplishments, it has been decided to adopt completely new rankings; so, the Dialectical Division will be organized as follows :

Vice-Sergeant : Monkspider
1st Quartet
Under-Corporal : Beserker
Almost-Private : Azazel
Almost-Private : Dino D
Almost-Private : Imran
2nd Quartet
Under-Corporal : Frogger
Almost-Private : Sloww
Almost-Private : Sava
Almost-Private : Chris62
Reserve
Under-Corporal : MTG
Almost-Private : Che
Almost-Private : Fez I

Your orders are to destroy the Pride Star.
Operational plan :

The first quartet attacks with the Dogpile Doctrine in order to test their dialectical defences. At the same time, the second Quartet starts the Shlieffen plan.

Then both Quartets alternate the Modern War doctrine with the Relentlessly Ignore Destruction Doctrine. Any weakening of the enemy offers the opportunity to launch a BAM.

Would the opposition become stronger, switch to Guerilla Warfare and Skirmish Doctrine, then resume Relentless Offensive.

Meantime, the reserve secures applications forms for the Gaylactic Storm Cadets next target of the Dialectical Division.

Do not forget that you are likely our last chance to avoid the horrifying prospect of a festive, cosmo-drinking land of hedonism and immaculate front lawns.

Last edited by DAVOUT on 08-03-2003 at 06:00

	08-03-2003 05:54									#23
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Asher is a Robot, DAVOUT you're not keeping up with the script.

	08-03-2003 05:57									#24
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Well, if I get in this story it better be as Tube-acca.

ACK!

	08-03-2003 06:02									#25
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Azazel,

Edited. (He became a robot so suddenly )

	08-03-2003 06:06									#26
	Remove this text

( just notice as I slip into the story, only to be instantly killed in the upcoming battle. At least Stefu survives. )

	08-03-2003 06:33									#27
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Does anyone else think this is funny? My side is hurting from all the laughing.

	08-03-2003 06:38									#28
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I think that "endlessly cute" and "fun" are the words that discribe this to me.

	08-03-2003 07:17									#29
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*Characters provided courtesy of the creators of Dallas the Humorous Generation and the Trade Wars Saga. All rights reserved.*

Meanwhile, in a more upscale region of fubutooine, a sandstorm has overtaken the usually bustling metropolis of New Dallas. Overlooking the business center of the settlement is a massive futuristic skyscraper. The camera moves toward it at ground level until we are right next to it, then angles upward, following the towering behemoth up and up and up, dust clouds swirl around, until...

...We are inside an office. A plaque on the wall reads: "Dallas Water Company (a Dallas Oil subsidiary). Ol' D.R. says, 'Hey, how ya doin'?!" Shipping workers hustle about, clad in dark blue jumpsuits, moving around packing crates. Office workers are busy too, unpacking everything, trying to get things up and running...

...Cut to the inside of the CEO's office, fubutooine's moisture-farmer industrialist and up until recently the chief financial backer of the LaDouche Network, ol' D.R. himself (played by yours-truly ). D.R. is seated behind his desk, donning his trademark stetsen, with a glass of Wild Turkey on the rocks in his hand. One of his many yes-men, ol' J.P. Morgan, walks in covered head-to-toe with sand:

DR: (not looking up, but continues staring at his drink) JP, has that shipment of high-capacity moisture vaporators arrived yet?

JP: (tries dusting himself off to no avail) Uhh, haven't checked on that yet, DR. I just got here myself.

DR: (looks up, pounding fist) Goddammit, why can't anybody give me a straight answer around this--! JP, what the hell happened?!

JP: (points toward the window)

DR: (turns around and sees the sandstorm rampaging through New Dallas, sighs heavily, and goes back to his drink)

JP: DR, how did we end up on this godforesaken rock anyway? Things were going so well on Earth.

DR: I'll tell ya what happened: Lyndon LaDouche got elected president of the Galactic Republic, that's what happened! Right before one of them Gay Pride folks hit him with their Fabulous Ray. Brought the whole Galactic government down pretty quick after that. I had no idea Lyndon was a closet homosexual! (pauses) Hmm...might explain a few things, though. (gulps down the last shot of whiskey in his glass)

JP: (nods) And then when the Gaylactic Empire was declared, we were labeled "obsolete industrial fuddy-duddies" by President Starchild and banished here.

DR: (walking over the bar to pour himself another Wild Turkey) Well I'll tell ya one thing, ol' DR is not finished yet...not by a longshot! Like I always tell Paul, ya ain't never gonna get ol' DR! (does his trademark malicious grin for the camera, then downs another shot of whiskey) Now all I need is a plan.

JP: Well I hope you come up with one quick, 'cause I really hate it here. I hate the sand. It's rough and irritating, and it gets everywhere. (scratches his head roughly with both hands, more sand falls out)

DR: (looks at JP with an odd expression on his face) Don't worry. I'll get maintenance to check out the ventilation system in your office. Who's my first appointment today, by the way?

JP: (pulls out his PDA) Uhh...a Gorillean smuggler by the name of Gian Carlo. Rumored to be quite gay. Has a sidekick I believe, one Tube-acca if I'm reading this right. Very strange fellow. Wears a furry tube-top and matching tube socks.

DR: (rolling his eyes) Sounds like fun. Let's go...

*transition music*

Last edited by Jules on 09-03-2003 at 01:47

	08-03-2003 07:25									#30
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I'm definitely liking it so far. And I'm very glad I don't have any Imperial weapons named after me.