The result of overpopulation in the NES was not a good one. Thre unsanity was stretched thin, and lost on most. Only Alt, Chill, Pierce and Mary, Pickle and Shack, and DB still carried it with them, keeping it close to their minds. They left progressively as they tired of the boredom. . . . P: We're finally out. . . . Alt: Yeah. . .being the god of the NES was too much. I'll let that place kick it's own ass as it's dying. M; Heh, yeah. *slaps P* P: What was that for? M: . . . . P: . . . . Chill: Another ellipsis battle. M: . . . . P: . . . . Alt: They never end. M: . . . . P: . . . . They left quietly from the NES, determined to never return to it. He let the people with randomness in their heads to change the paradigm- he would only check up rarely. Alt: We're out now. . .should we start something new? Chill: Maybe. . . . Alt: For those deemed unsane, they can continue here. When the Chronicle of the NES hits 100 pages, we shall let it die. They left, to return only rarely as long as the NES lived.
This is a restructure of the Neverending Story. Posts should be NES-style dialogue intermixed with relevant bits of prose. Unsanity and humor is appreciated, and is in fact the entire core and purpose of the thread. All are welcome, unless they spend all of their time trying and epically failing to be funny and unsane through obstreperous randomness.
