The Way of Moderation has ended (page 566)

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Zophia

9,434 posts

Scribe

Posted March 9, '10 12:09pm UTC

Mod party!

Woo!

I'm really looking forward to seeing peoples' raps... For teh lulz.

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Strop

10,816 posts

Bard

Posted March 9, '10 2:00pm UTC

While I'm here, I'd like to shoutout to Gantic, Nemo and Zophia for breaking up what would have ended up a monologue and making this mod party a-

I MEAN LET'S GET DOWN TO BUSINESS:

Stealing the Show

Manta provided an image of his getup. He even brought his own DJ. So I figured it was worth adapting and sharing with you guys.

"ALLLLLLRIGHT IT'S GONNA GET NUTS IN HERE!" Strop was in fine form, as would be expected since being an MC required having a big mouth and no shame. "CAN YOU FEEL THE TENSION!? THIS IS FOR REAL, DID I MENTION I'M SHAKING IN MY HOOVES? RAAAAAISE THE ROOF!"

There was a... smattering of whoops and cheers from the motley crew that barely filtered through the driving bass of the backing music. This too, was to be expected, since, well, nobody was really expecting this turn of events and it was safe to say that the majority of them weren't exactly from a... rapping background.

"AND NOOOOOW, WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, I PRESENT YOUUUUU..." Strop looked to the stage, only to find somebody was already there:

Strop scratched his head. "Whimsyboy? Now why haven't I-", but before he could get any further, Whimsyboy flew into a bizarre mixture of verse and beatboxing:

The following was written by Whimsyboy himself:

Hangin in south Armor,
*UNS* *UNS*
Pickin out the pockets like I just don't care.
Takin eggs from the farmer,
*UNS* *UNS*
Takin'em back to go eat in my lair.

Stealin stuff, cause I can!
Ready to go, ready to be a man.
Took it, then I ran!
That's what I do, be a hater or a fan.

If you're a hater or a fan,
*UNS* *UNS*
Don't think I'm really gonna be your man.
If you're lookin for donations,
*UNS* *UNS*
Maybe go to apothecaries or the sages.

Stealin stuff, cause I can.
Ready to go, ready to be a man.
Took it, then I ran!
You can be a hater-

"Okay time's up!" Strop, finally realising that Whimsyboy was not one of the victestants of the WoM, advanced upon the raccoon. Whimsyboy squeaked, leapt off the stool and flashed a victory sign: "I'll see you all later!"

Then he grabbed the nearest object and ran out the doors of the hall.

http://i438.photobucket.com/albums/qq105/strawpony/Way%20Of%20Moderation/5-20.png

Strop wiped his brow, character momentarily broken. "Okay, uh. Who's next?"

---

You know what? Nuts to not posting. If you've been approved, feel free to post your entry. Order does not matter.

Note though, that I'd really prefer it if you check all the syntax and that no special characters are in your entry, because it's good to have an entry that's actually readable, you know?

While I'm here, I'd like to shoutout to Gantic, Nemo and Zophia for breaking up what would have ended up a monologue and making this mod party a-\r\n\r\nI MEAN LET'S GET DOWN TO BUSINESS:\r\n\r\n[b]Stealing the Show[/b]\r\n\r\n[img]http://i438.photobucket.com/albums/qq105/strawpony/Way%20Of%20Moderation/5-18.png[/img]\r\n\r\n[i]Manta provided an image of his getup. He even brought his own DJ. So I figured it was worth adapting and sharing with you guys.[/i]\r\n\r\n"ALLLLLLRIGHT IT'S GONNA GET NUTS IN HERE!" Strop was in fine form, as would be expected since being an MC required having a big mouth and no shame. "CAN YOU FEEL THE TENSION!? THIS IS FOR REAL, DID I MENTION I'M SHAKING IN MY HOOVES? RAAAAAISE THE ROOF!"\r\n\r\nThere was a... smattering of whoops and cheers from the motley crew that barely filtered through the driving bass of the backing music. This too, was to be expected, since, well, nobody was really expecting this turn of events and it was safe to say that the majority of them weren't exactly from a... rapping background.\r\n\r\n"AND NOOOOOW, WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, I PRESENT YOUUUUU..." Strop looked to the stage, only to find somebody was already there:\r\n\r\n[img]http://i438.photobucket.com/albums/qq105/strawpony/Way%20Of%20Moderation/5-19.png[/img]\r\n\r\nStrop scratched his head. "Whimsyboy? Now why haven't I-", but before he could get any further, Whimsyboy flew into a bizarre mixture of verse and beatboxing:\r\n\r\n[i]The following was written by Whimsyboy himself:[/i]\r\n\r\n[quote]Hangin in south Armor,\r\n*UNS* *UNS*\r\nPickin out the pockets like I just don't care.\r\nTakin eggs from the farmer,\r\n*UNS* *UNS*\r\nTakin'em back to go eat in my lair.\r\n\r\nStealin stuff, cause I can!\r\nReady to go, ready to be a man.\r\nTook it, then I ran!\r\nThat's what I do, be a hater or a fan.\r\n\r\nIf you're a hater or a fan,\r\n*UNS* *UNS* \r\nDon't think I'm really gonna be your man.\r\nIf you're lookin for donations,\r\n*UNS* *UNS* \r\nMaybe go to apothecaries or the sages.\r\n\r\nStealin stuff, cause I can.\r\nReady to go, ready to be a man.\r\nTook it, then I ran!\r\nYou can be a hater-[/quote]\r\n\r\n"Okay time's up!" Strop, finally realising that Whimsyboy was not one of the victestants of the WoM, advanced upon the raccoon. Whimsyboy squeaked, leapt off the stool and flashed a victory sign: "I'll see you all later!"\r\n\r\nThen he grabbed the nearest object and ran out the doors of the hall.\r\n\r\n[img]http://i438.photobucket.com/albums/qq105/strawpony/Way%20Of%20Moderation/5-20.png[/img]\r\n\r\nStrop wiped his brow, character momentarily broken. "Okay, uh. Who's next?"\r\n\r\n---\r\n\r\nYou know what? Nuts to not posting. [b]If you've been approved, feel free to post your entry. Order does not matter.[/b] :D\r\n\r\nNote though, that I'd really prefer it if you check all the syntax and that no special characters are in your entry, because it's good to have an entry that's actually readable, you know?

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FireflyIV

3,224 posts

Nomad

Posted March 9, '10 9:04pm UTC

Should I feel a little guilty in that I high jacked the community hall and set everyone else up for a rap battle, but don't have to embarass myself? Actually, ignore that. I feel pretty good with myself right now.

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thoadthetoad

5,642 posts

Peasant

Posted March 10, '10 2:14am UTC

Cover your eyes, for I will warn you. This IS the absolute WORST Rap ever created.

Cameo with Parappa the Rapper too.

OH SNAP.
Thoad stared at strop and his hip-hop horsey getup. the first words that came out of his mouth were very simple, and probably something that most people didn't see coming. "I'm out of here," He said, leaving the hall. He was stopped at the door by a little piece of concience. "Dangit Thoad! This is your best chance of becoming a mod. It's too fun to be immature and you have a dA to worry about instead of an Ag"
Thoad knew that this was true, and mumbled a curse under his breathe before continuing with this little... Rap battle. "So how do I do this?" Thoad asked, a rage-filled frown on his face. He was told to rap about the past WoM accomplishments. "What? You have to be kidding me. No. No way. Dude. Just-" He was cut off short with his conscience. "Just shut up and do it" it said.
..."Well god,"
"I must be a sob,"
"So let's turn a knob,"
"And screw up some..." Thoad paused his failsome rap to think, "cod?"
"Aw screw it," Suddenly, there was an overtone of beat boxing, from no apparent person.
"Iiiiii-"
"Deflected the balls, I answered strop's calls."
"He pissed me off, I flipped him off,"
"He got rizzled, there was a drizzle,"
"We ended it, I sent it,"
"Down the road,"
"I got a cold,"
"Or rather a flu,"
"IT made me feel blue,"
"I became a swine,"
"I had no wine,"
"Hell, I couldn't even dine."
Thoad decided to calm down a bit just to re-assure himself how much this rap sucked. His conscience reminded him: "Remember Thoad, just YA GOTTA BELEIIIVE". For some reason, Thoad's Rapper spirit animal appeared in front of him. IT was.. a dog. But no no, it wasn't snoop dog. It was...
"YO DAWG YA GOTTA BELEIIIIVE" Said the all famous dog, PARAPPA THE RAPPER.
Along with him was his onion-y friend: "KICK, PUNCH, IT'S ALL IN THE MIND, IF YOU WANNA TEST ME, I'M SURE YOU'LL FIND, The things i'll teach ya is sure to beat ya, But nevertheless you'll get a lesson from a teacher!"
Thoad was confused, and questioned his sanity. A talking onion was yelling at him and a small dog was telling him to beleive. But suddenly, he felt something. He felt something deep inside his body. A burning fire bursting out of every single crevice and pore.
"HYAAAAAAAAA-"
"Iiiiiii-"
"Beat the swine,"
"it was sublime,"
"Then came zoph,"
"and I had a terrible cough,"
"To drop the bomb,"
"That would stirr the calm,"
"Then I looked at my palm..."
Thoad took another small break, hanging his head. Parappa in all his jedi-ghost goodness continued spouting things about beleiving in yourself while the onion taught him. Thoad reccollected himself trying to remember the past events.
"I had PMS,"
"I liked myself less,"
"I searched for a berry,"
"To cure my cherry,"
"But that would be ..."
Suddenly, Thoad hit a dead spot. "PG 13?" No way, that'd be stupid. "PG MA?" Even more stupid. Thoad got into a rut. Thoad said only one more thing.
"Screw it," He paused to take a huge gasp of air, "YOU GOTTA BELEIIIIIIIIIVE."
And so the deal was settled. Thoad the Toad had made the absolute worst rap ever. This rap was so bad, it made vanilla ice cry. There was absolutely NO consolation. It was the absolute worst. However, it would probably qualify in a "So terrible it's good" fashion.

Cover your eyes, for I will warn you. This IS the absolute [b][i]WORST[/b][/i] Rap ever created.\r\n\r\nCameo with Parappa the Rapper too.\r\n\r\n[b]OH SNAP.[/b]\r\n	Thoad stared at strop and his hip-hop horsey getup. the first words that came out of his mouth were very simple, and probably something that most people didn't see coming. "I'm out of here," He said, leaving the hall. He was stopped at the door by a little piece of concience. "Dangit Thoad! This is your best chance of becoming a mod. It's too fun to be immature and you have a dA to worry about instead of an Ag"\r\n	Thoad knew that this was true, and mumbled a curse under his breathe before continuing with this little... Rap battle. "So how do I do this?" Thoad asked, a rage-filled frown on his face. He was told to rap about the past WoM accomplishments. "What? You have to be kidding me. No. No way. Dude. Just-" He was cut off short with his conscience. "Just shut up and do it" it said.\r\n	..."Well god,"\r\n	"I must be a sob,"\r\n	"So let's turn a knob,"\r\n	"And screw up some..." Thoad paused his failsome rap to think, "cod?"\r\n	"Aw screw it," Suddenly, there was an overtone of beat boxing, from no apparent person.\r\n	"Iiiiii-" \r\n	"Deflected the balls, I answered strop's calls."\r\n	"He pissed me off, I flipped him off,"\r\n	"He got rizzled, there was a drizzle,"\r\n	"We ended it, I sent it,"\r\n	"Down the road,"\r\n	"I got a cold,"\r\n	"Or rather a flu,"\r\n	"IT made me feel blue,"\r\n	"I became a swine,"\r\n	"I had no wine,"\r\n	"Hell, I couldn't even dine."\r\n	Thoad decided to calm down a bit just to re-assure himself how much this rap sucked. His conscience reminded him: "Remember Thoad, just [i]YA GOTTA BELEIIIVE[/i]". For some reason, Thoad's Rapper spirit animal appeared in front of him. IT was.. a dog. But no no, it wasn't snoop dog. It was... \r\n	"YO DAWG YA GOTTA BELEIIIIVE" Said the all famous dog, PARAPPA THE RAPPER.\r\n	Along with him was his onion-y friend: "KICK, PUNCH, IT'S ALL IN THE MIND, IF YOU WANNA TEST ME, I'M SURE YOU'LL FIND, The things i'll teach ya is sure to beat ya, But nevertheless you'll get a lesson from a teacher!"\r\n	Thoad was confused, and questioned his sanity. A talking onion was yelling at him and a small dog was telling him to beleive. But suddenly, he felt something. He felt something deep inside his body. A burning fire bursting out of every single crevice and pore. \r\n	"HYAAAAAAAAA-"\r\n	"Iiiiiii-"\r\n	"Beat the swine,"\r\n	"it was sublime,"\r\n	"Then came zoph,"\r\n	"and I had a terrible cough,"\r\n	"To drop the bomb,"\r\n	"That would stirr the calm,"\r\n	"Then I looked at my palm..."\r\n	Thoad took another small break, hanging his head. Parappa in all his jedi-ghost goodness continued spouting things about beleiving in yourself while the onion taught him. Thoad reccollected himself trying to remember the past events. \r\n	"I had PMS,"\r\n	"I liked myself less,"\r\n	"I searched for a berry,"\r\n	"To cure my cherry,"\r\n	"But that would be ..."\r\n	Suddenly, Thoad hit a dead spot. "PG 13?" No way, that'd be stupid. "PG MA?" Even more stupid. Thoad got into a rut. Thoad said only one more thing. \r\n	"Screw it," He paused to take a huge gasp of air, "[b]YOU GOTTA BELEIIIIIIIIIVE.[/b]"\r\n	And so the deal was settled. Thoad the Toad had made the absolute worst rap ever. This rap was so bad, it made vanilla ice cry. There was absolutely NO consolation. It was the absolute worst. However, it would probably qualify in a "So terrible it's good" fashion.

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Gantic

11,891 posts

King

Posted March 10, '10 2:15am UTC

Why hasn't anyone posted? I was waiting for someone to post. :P But I also, wanted to make a comment on the cardboard foil. Would anyone notice the difference?

Also, there must be more than one cutout because the ponytail is facing two different directions.

Should I feel a little guilty in that I high jacked the community hall and set everyone else up for a rap battle, but don't have to embarass myself? Actually, ignore that. I feel pretty good with myself right now.

You mean to say.... that... you... don't... have... to... rap?!
Well, as long as Strop does it doesn't matter.

-----

The Bullman had two mottos: "Help those in need." and "Anything a horse can do, he could do (unless he didn't want to)." And rapping was one of those things that he could definitely do or at least fake and do better anyway. All he had to do was figuratively sling a string with swing and sing.

"In the days before the Way, the way for change, in flames, in names, in outright stranger games, in fame, acclaim, there came the story, the allegory, for glory, without category intimidatory Taur we (He felt rather smug as the rhymes piled up and the exposition loosened.) know as the never gory cool man, (booming his 'oo' sounds as he went along.) by his own rules man, never is a fool man, beat you in a duel man, one and only Bullman (He switched it up as the verse broke into his accomplishments.) was the early one, never one to hurry fun, only once the girly one, yet still the strong and burly one. He's the one who's surely won once this tourney's done Having fun in the stands with hat in hands, making plans, thinking grand, for the day he gets to ban. He hardly falls mostly (Slurring over the adverbs as fast as possible to render them mistakable for other words, he continued past the hiccup in the beat.) dodged the balls through the walls from the halls of those who scrawl true and all tales of the one who's tall always good for any brawl. He beat the course, the feat of horse with no defeat of course from the source by feet and force landing on all fours, black and bruised, mod abused but refused to ever lose. He's the story, allegory, for all glory no category Taur we know as the Bullman the only one who'll stand full chance as the one who'll ban."

He was done or at least that was a good place to stop, as he had run out of things to say.

Why hasn't anyone posted? I was waiting for someone to post. :P But I also, wanted to make a comment on the cardboard foil. Would anyone notice the difference?\r\n\r\nAlso, there must be more than one cutout because the ponytail is facing two different directions.\r\n\r\n[quote]Should I feel a little guilty in that I high jacked the community hall and set everyone else up for a rap battle, but don't have to embarass myself? Actually, ignore that. I feel pretty good with myself right now.[/quote]\r\n\r\nYou mean to say.... that... you... don't... have... to... rap?!\r\nWell, as long as Strop does it doesn't matter.\r\n\r\n-----\r\n\r\nThe Bullman had two mottos: "Help those in need." and "Anything a horse can do, he could do (unless he didn't want to)." And rapping was one of those things that he could definitely do or at least fake and do better anyway. All he had to do was figuratively sling a string with swing and sing.\r\n\r\n"In the days before the Way, the way for change, in flames, in names, in outright stranger games, in fame, acclaim, there came the story, the allegory, for glory, without category intimidatory Taur we (He felt rather smug as the rhymes piled up and the exposition loosened.) know as the never gory cool man, (booming his 'oo' sounds as he went along.) by his own rules man, never is a fool man, beat you in a duel man, one and only Bullman (He switched it up as the verse broke into his accomplishments.) was the early one, never one to hurry fun, only once the girly one, yet still the strong and burly one. He's the one who's surely won once this tourney's done Having fun in the stands with hat in hands, making plans, thinking grand, for the day he gets to ban. He hardly falls mostly (Slurring over the adverbs as fast as possible to render them mistakable for other words, he continued past the hiccup in the beat.) dodged the balls through the walls from the halls of those who scrawl true and all tales of the one who's tall always good for any brawl. He beat the course, the feat of horse with no defeat of course from the source by feet and force landing on all fours, black and bruised, mod abused but refused to ever lose. He's the story, allegory, for all glory no category Taur we know as the Bullman the only one who'll stand full chance as the one who'll ban."\r\n\r\nHe was done or at least that was a good place to stop, as he had run out of things to say.

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thoadthetoad

5,642 posts

Peasant

Posted March 10, '10 2:18am UTC

I posted, gantic :C

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Gantic

11,891 posts

King

Posted March 10, '10 2:21am UTC

It doesn't count if you ninja me! >:O

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kingryan

4,196 posts

Farmer

Posted March 10, '10 6:35am UTC

I would post mine however it is on the other computer, so as soon as my parents need to use it I'll send it over to this one and post it up.

Oh wait! Email!

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

KingRyan glanced nervously around and the chaos surrounding him. It was utter madness. People adorned themselves with large shiny jewellery that hung from thick gold chains around their necks. To him, it all seemed too much...this horrible youth culture...

Finding a seat near the back of the hall, where it was also a little dark so that if it got boring he could go to sleep, KingRyan sat down and waited for the performances to start. Even the youthful KingRyan trapped inside this prune like body wasn't that big of a fan of rapping, it was way too fast for him. Slow, imageric poetry was much nicer.

As he began to think up something that he could string together to rap, he had an epiphany and realised that he probably wouldn't get asked to rap since he was so old. He closed his eyes to block out the bright lights of the stage and soon fell asleep.

~~~~~

Some time later he was woken by someone poking his arm quite roughly, followed by a shake.

'Err...KingRyan? It's your turn to rap...' a voice said. KingRyan kept his eyes closed, hoping that if the person thought he was dead he would get left alone. That was until he had a tail put in his face - which was accompanied by the faint odours of a horrible smell.

'Yes old man,' an enthusiastic voice said, 'That's my tail in your face and if you don't wake up now and get up on that stage I'll have to use my secret ban weapon...the BanBum.'

KingRyan opened his eyes to the lovely sight of a horses backside visible above the band of Strop's rapping shorts which were sitting quite low.

'Ah, Strop, I see that bum rash of yours hasn't quite cleared up yet. You really should get that seen to,' he said before awkwardly getting up out of the chair and moving towards the stage with a suprising pace for an old man. Strop was left looking a little bewildered, before trying to twist his head around to see if he really had a bum rash.

Walking up to the microphone, KingRyan thought as fast as he could about what he could rap about.

Clearing his throat he started down at the rows of expecting faces, many amused by his age.

'Umm...well Hi everyone...you know I don't really like to rap...so I thought that I would give a bit of imageric poetry instead...' he started before trailing off as the crowd booed. Cenere quickly walked onto stage and whispered to him that this wasn't allowed and that he would have to rap (before turning back into cardboard? coninuity error #505).

'Well...ok so I have to rap then...umm....I apologise but I'm not good at rapping...'

Taking a deep breath, he began...with a skill that even he wasn't expecting...

~~~~

Well Hi everyone KingRyan's my name,
I was a beta tester yea thats my fame.
I've been in this city for a year or two,
And around this region since Tolkein wanted to sue.

It's been a long road of ups and downs,
The forums soon got filled with ambitious clowns.
I tried to interact but they were plain dumb,
I was so suprised they weren't suckin their thumb.

The great forum reshuffle found me my home,
And it was about then I started writing my archive tome.
From the A to the M to the W is where I hang,
Yeah me and all my hommies are part of that gang.

The Pokemon contest is my escape,
And some of the drawings can get pretty ape.
I enter the Art contest regularly,
Though I didn't win once last February.

I likes the ArmorGames.
You like the 'ArmorGames' (crowd participation).
I likes the ArmorGames.
You like the 'ArmorGames!'

So before I kill this rap,
And go and take my nap,
You people gotta know,
That your behaviours sunk low.
You're a bunch of spammers,
And you should stop spamming because it really annoys me and you should really stop playing with basketballs around my house because one of these days you're going to break one of my windows and I am going to absolutely kill you.

The crowd went silent.

Sorry folks, that's a wrap.
I think its time to take a nap.
My rapping skills are all but dead,
So I am heading back to bed.

With that, KingRyan hobbled off the stage and back to his seat. The stunned silence in the room continued until Cenere announced the next performer...

I would post mine however it is on the other computer, so as soon as my parents need to use it I'll send it over to this one and post it up.\r\n\r\nOh wait! Email!\r\n\r\n++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++\r\n\r\nKingRyan glanced nervously around and the chaos surrounding him. It was utter madness. People adorned themselves with large shiny jewellery that hung from thick gold chains around their necks. To him, it all seemed too much...this horrible youth culture...\r\n\r\nFinding a seat near the back of the hall, where it was also a little dark so that if it got boring he could go to sleep, KingRyan sat down and waited for the performances to start. Even the youthful KingRyan trapped inside this prune like body wasn't that big of a fan of rapping, it was way too fast for him. Slow, imageric poetry was much nicer.\r\n\r\nAs he began to think up something that he could string together to rap, he had an epiphany and realised that he probably wouldn't get asked to rap since he was so old. He closed his eyes to block out the bright lights of the stage and soon fell asleep.\r\n\r\n~~~~~\r\n\r\nSome time later he was woken by someone poking his arm quite roughly, followed by a shake.\r\n\r\n'Err...KingRyan? It's your turn to rap...' a voice said. KingRyan kept his eyes closed, hoping that if the person thought he was dead he would get left alone. That was until he had a tail put in his face - which was accompanied by the faint odours of a horrible smell.\r\n\r\n'Yes old man,' an enthusiastic voice said, 'That's my tail in your face and if you don't wake up now and get up on that stage I'll have to use my secret ban weapon...the BanBum.'\r\n\r\nKingRyan opened his eyes to the lovely sight of a horses backside visible above the band of Strop's rapping shorts which were sitting quite low.\r\n\r\n'Ah, Strop, I see that bum rash of yours hasn't quite cleared up yet. You really should get that seen to,' he said before awkwardly getting up out of the chair and moving towards the stage with a suprising pace for an old man. Strop was left looking a little bewildered, before trying to twist his head around to see if he really had a bum rash.\r\n\r\nWalking up to the microphone, KingRyan thought as fast as he could about what he could rap about.\r\n\r\nClearing his throat he started down at the rows of expecting faces, many amused by his age.\r\n\r\n'Umm...well Hi everyone...you know I don't really like to rap...so I thought that I would give a bit of imageric poetry instead...' he started before trailing off as the crowd booed. Cenere quickly walked onto stage and whispered to him that this wasn't allowed and that he would have to rap [i](before turning back into cardboard? coninuity error #505)[/i].\r\n\r\n'Well...ok so I have to rap then...umm....I apologise but I'm not good at rapping...'\r\n\r\nTaking a deep breath, he began...with a skill that even he wasn't expecting...\r\n\r\n~~~~\r\n\r\n[i]Well Hi everyone KingRyan's my name,\r\nI was a beta tester yea thats my fame.\r\nI've been in this city for a year or two,\r\nAnd around this region since Tolkein wanted to sue.\r\n\r\nIt's been a long road of ups and downs,\r\nThe forums soon got filled with ambitious clowns.\r\nI tried to interact but they were plain dumb,\r\nI was so suprised they weren't suckin their thumb.\r\n\r\nThe great forum reshuffle found me my home,\r\nAnd it was about then I started writing my archive tome.\r\nFrom the A to the M to the W is where I hang,\r\nYeah me and all my hommies are part of that gang.\r\n\r\nThe Pokemon contest is my escape,\r\nAnd some of the drawings can get pretty ape.\r\nI enter the Art contest regularly,\r\nThough I didn't win once last February.\r\n\r\nI likes the ArmorGames.\r\nYou like the 'ArmorGames' (crowd participation).\r\nI likes the ArmorGames.\r\nYou like the 'ArmorGames!'\r\n\r\nSo before I kill this rap,\r\nAnd go and take my nap,\r\nYou people gotta know,\r\nThat your behaviours sunk low.\r\nYou're a bunch of spammers,\r\nAnd you should stop spamming because it really annoys me and you should really stop playing with basketballs around my house because one of these days you're going to break one of my windows and I am going to absolutely kill you.[/i]\r\n\r\nThe crowd went silent.\r\n\r\n[i]Sorry folks, that's a wrap.\r\nI think its time to take a nap.\r\nMy rapping skills are all but dead,\r\nSo I am heading back to bed.[/i]\r\n\r\nWith that, KingRyan hobbled off the stage and back to his seat. The stunned silence in the room continued until Cenere announced the next performer...

offline

Strop

10,816 posts

Bard

Posted March 10, '10 7:52am UTC

Should I feel a little guilty in that I high jacked the community hall and set everyone else up for a rap battle, but don't have to embarass myself?

Nope, I have no idea how Firefly would even remotely be embarrassed if he had to anyway lol.

Manta gets points for correctly assuming 'Cen' is a cardboard cutout, but...

Also, there must be more than one cutout because the ponytail is facing two different directions.

Gantic wins himself an assignment to compile all continuity errors in the WoM (he's pointed most, if not all of them out thus far... and while I'm digressing I'd like to point out that I've changed the embarrassingly erroneous lyrics in the Eye of the Tiger chorus page). In this case I was vaguely aware of the possibility that I'd switched the ponytail around and thought "...nah, screw it" because it was 2am and I'm ill.

The other big 'whoops' of the round was that I thought I mentioned that Cen was absent, but maybe I never explicitly stated it in the round rules. Because I subsequently forgot to vet most of the entries for unauthorised Cens. Argh!

Fortunately this round is relatively forgiving (to me), because we're all in the same spot and will be after the round finishes. Once I finish chasing people up, I'll give you the rest of the chapter and, uh, reiterate the exact circumstances! Because after that things are going to get a fair bit more nitty-gritty.

Okay, that's it from me for now. But if any of you know what Parsat, Pixie and Gametesta are doing, could you badger them? Because they never withdrew but they're late!

[quote]Should I feel a little guilty in that I high jacked the community hall and set everyone else up for a rap battle, but don't have to embarass myself?[/quote]\r\n\r\nNope, I have no idea how Firefly would even remotely be embarrassed if he had to anyway lol.\r\n\r\nManta gets points for correctly assuming 'Cen' is a cardboard cutout, but...\r\n\r\n[quote]Also, there must be more than one cutout because the ponytail is facing two different directions.[/quote]\r\n\r\nGantic wins himself an assignment to compile all continuity errors in the WoM (he's pointed most, if not all of them out thus far... and while I'm digressing I'd like to point out that I've changed the embarrassingly erroneous lyrics in the [i]Eye of the Tiger[/i] chorus page). In this case I was vaguely aware of the possibility that I'd switched the ponytail around and thought "...nah, screw it" because it was 2am and I'm ill.\r\n\r\nThe other big 'whoops' of the round was that I thought I mentioned that Cen was absent, but maybe I never explicitly stated it in the round rules. Because I subsequently forgot to vet most of the entries for unauthorised Cens. Argh!\r\n\r\nFortunately this round is relatively forgiving (to me), because we're all in the same spot and will be after the round finishes. Once I finish chasing people up, I'll give you the rest of the chapter and, uh, reiterate the exact circumstances! Because after that things are going to get a fair bit more nitty-gritty.\r\n\r\nOkay, that's it from me for now. But if any of you know what Parsat, Pixie and Gametesta are doing, could you badger them? Because they never withdrew but they're late!

offline

Xzeno

2,301 posts

Nomad

Posted March 10, '10 5:46pm UTC

Who am I kidding? I'm way to lazy to ever edit this. Posting time!

Round 6: Allusions of Grandeur

Leon was surprised and annoyed. How could Leon McAcid rap? After all, he thought, he wasn't the rapper type: He was always out stealing gold, wearing bling or shooting people while the rappers wrote songs about skipping through flowers, tender lovemaking or giving to the needy. He thought for a moment. Perhaps... a rap about the thug life? Maybe unconventional, but it was worth a shot. Leon stood up, straightening his hood. He pulled out his bag of jewelry, selecting a few of his tackiest rings and a large, golden chain complete with a heart-shaped locket. On impulse, he opened it. He absentmindedly put away his jewelry bag as he read the inscription inside. He chuckled. Just a few sweet nothings in elvish. No real rapper would have it any other way, but Leon never liked jewelry with inscriptions. He shrugged. He wondered briefly if should have searched for a mirror before deciding that he would look cooler with his hood up and that elves had terrible taste in jewelry anyway. He waited for his turn on stage, making sure he snarled and bared his teeth at anyone nearby. Finally, he was called on:
"Now," shouted an over-enthusiastic voice "give it up or M.C. Acid!" Leon sniggered. M.C. Acid. He was going to use the name Tasty-Freeze, but M.C. Acid was definitely better. Leon grabbed the mike and began:
"Hey yall." He said in true rapper style. "Imma start this rhyme at the beginning." He rolled his eyes at his own diction. "So anyway, back in the day, it wasn't just ol' Leon like now." He thought about how to start. He knew he would rhyme team with extreme, and perhaps psychic supreme. Bluebell went with hell, obviously, but he wasn't sure how purple energy beams or Screeching Leopard would fit into the overall equation. He thought for a moment. "You know what?" he asked with an exaggerated hand motion. "Suckers can't handle the beginning. We're gonna start around part two." With that, Leon's rap began:

"We were in a village, Edward and me
Willin' to fight, if you pay the fee
got to a tavern, where stories begin
'cuz which *************s don't meet in an inn?

Met a hot elf, made a threat on her life
to my surprise, elf pulled a knife
glad mediation prevented any pain
how was I supposed t' know Ed devoured her brain?

Long story short, the inn burned down,
sent me and ol' Eddie skippin' outta that town
found an oasis along the road,
town was in the desert, I thought you... knowed?"

Leon blinked rapidly. Knowed? His human was rusty. Not knowing what to say, Leon used the time that would have been spent on the next verse sort of bobbing his head and flashing jewelry to the music. Occasionally, he would mumble "Uh-huh" or "yeah" at key points. It seemed to work out. With some reluctance, he picked up his rap:

"If you remember, we had a mission
killed and ate a lion as we got in position
We have to be brave as we invade the cave
Eddie's brain wave brings down a knave!"

Leon winced. Cave was such an easy word to rhyme, too. Maybe he just wasn't cut out for rap.

"A big-ass hydra got in our way
now you know me and Edward messed up his day
What did we do with the body?
Aw, come on, yall know me!

Instead of rapping, Leon simply spoke the next part of the story (or, as it's know in rap circles, performed a "talky bit&quot: "Yeah, we skinned its corpse and left its skeletal heads on pikes as a warning to others." Leon said. "Then we used the skin to make super-cute hydra skin hand bags. Uh-huh.

Now this sort of news might amaze
but me and Eddie found a bridge somewhere in that cave
Now this baby arced over a pit
but it was made of rainbows and gumdrops and shit

I'm tellin' you now, this bridge was the bomb
but that's not really the point, let's get to the WoM!"

With that note, Leon threw his head back and cackled, causing his hood to fall off. He quickly pulled it back over his head. Unfortunately, his haste caused his right ear to be turned inside out. The annoyed Leon struggled to fix this. After fixing his ear, Leon began straightening his hood. Suddenly, he looked up. He removed his hands from his hood and slowly walked back to the mike. "So as I was saying:

I first heard of this event
'fore any of you even caught its scent
I wasn't gonna join in, too easy a win
they wanted me to join, to my chagrin

Went to the place to sign on up,
met a dude on the way so I was like 'sup!'
he knew bout the WoM, with inside information
told me what was up with little persuasion

Learned about the situation
with his cooperation
gonna take down the mods, then administration
for the record, this dude wasn't Caucasian."

Leon shrugged. Maybe he was exaggerating little bit, but it kind of made sense: If Leon had extraordinary knowledge in the rap, it logically followed that anyone who actually knew what it was had inside information. "So then I sent in my application-" Leon rapped. "Er, never mind. I'm not starting that again." Leon waited for a few more measures before continuing:

"Sent in a filled-out form
it evidently was the norm
whole deal was kinda unimpressive
so next round I got aggressive:

I was in the tavern a few rounds ago
Strop came by with balls to throw
he threw them real hard and they kinda hurt
I knew his plan I would have to subvert

Tried to fight past but he was too fast
I could avoid 'cause the place was so vast
tried to fight but his aim was unsurpassed
lost the game but had a blast!"

Leon paused to take a breath. He was getting ahead of himself. His lines were becoming longer and longer. He decided that the best method of getting back on track was to employ a talky bit: "So then, one dude up and blows up a bakery or some crap. Might have been some sort of governmental building. I don't know. Anyway, we followed the clues and it led us right to the guilty party. Then, the dude tried to make his escape using the obstacle course built into the moat - I'm not making this crap up!

We chased this guy and didn't die
though I had the help of my ally
Pretty soon he summons a dragon
we escape with the rest of the lagan!"

Leon stopped for a moment to pat his hyena.

"Then, I turn into a girl
not my cup 'o tea, but I gave it whirl
not sure what happened, it was really confusing,
but I got this shitty jewelry and cash I was losing."

Leon pulled out the piece of jewelry he had purchased while female and tossed it off stage. He wasn't sure how much he had paid for it, but it must have been overpriced.

"That's it for now, we're caught up to the present
I hope you all found this rap pleasent
that's all for now; it's off stage with me
Keep a look out for Leon's tale part three!"

Both Leon and his hyena laughed like gnolls and hyenas. As the music faded away, Leon trotted off stage merrily, mumbling something about silly elf songs.

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

OK, my punctuation should be fine. If there are weird symbols instead of quotation marks or something, you can kill me.

Who am I kidding? I'm way to lazy to ever edit this. Posting time!\r\n\r\n[b]Round 6: Allusions of Grandeur[/b]\r\n\r\n	Leon was surprised and annoyed. How could Leon McAcid rap? After all, he thought, he wasn't the rapper type: He was always out stealing gold, wearing bling or shooting people while the rappers wrote songs about skipping through flowers, tender lovemaking or giving to the needy. He thought for a moment. Perhaps... a rap about the thug life? Maybe unconventional, but it was worth a shot. Leon stood up, straightening his hood. He pulled out his bag of jewelry, selecting a few of his tackiest rings and a large, golden chain complete with a heart-shaped locket. On impulse, he opened it. He absentmindedly put away his jewelry bag as he read the inscription inside. He chuckled. Just a few sweet nothings in elvish. No real rapper would have it any other way, but Leon never liked jewelry with inscriptions. He shrugged. He wondered briefly if should have searched for a mirror before deciding that he would look cooler with his hood up and that elves had terrible taste in jewelry anyway. He waited for his turn on stage, making sure he snarled and bared his teeth at anyone nearby. Finally, he was called on:\r\n"Now," shouted an over-enthusiastic voice "give it up or M.C. Acid!"  Leon sniggered. M.C. Acid. He was going to use the name Tasty-Freeze, but M.C. Acid was definitely better. Leon grabbed the mike and began:\r\n"Hey yall." He said in true rapper style. "Imma start this rhyme at the beginning." He rolled his eyes at his own diction. "So anyway, back in the day, it wasn't just ol' Leon like now." He thought about how to start. He knew he would rhyme [i]team[/i] with [i]extreme[/i], and perhaps [i]psychic supreme[/i]. [i]Bluebell[/i] went with [i]hell[/i], obviously, but he wasn't sure how [i]purple energy beams[/i] or [i]Screeching Leopard[/i] would fit into the overall equation. He thought for a moment. "You know what?" he asked with an exaggerated hand motion. "Suckers can't handle the beginning. We're gonna start around part two." With that, Leon's rap began:\r\n\r\n            "We were in a village, Edward and me\r\n            Willin' to fight, if you pay the fee\r\n            got to a tavern, where stories begin\r\n            'cuz which *************s don't meet in an inn?\r\n\r\n            Met a hot elf, made a threat on her life\r\n            to my surprise, elf pulled a knife\r\n            glad mediation prevented any pain\r\n            how was I supposed t' know Ed devoured her brain?\r\n\r\n            Long story short, the inn burned down,\r\n            sent me and ol' Eddie skippin' outta that town\r\n            found an oasis along the road,\r\n            town was in the desert, I thought you... knowed?"\r\n\r\nLeon blinked rapidly. Knowed? His human was rusty. Not knowing what to say, Leon used the time that would have been spent on the next verse sort of bobbing his head and flashing jewelry to the music. Occasionally, he would mumble "Uh-huh" or "yeah" at key points. It seemed to work out. With some reluctance, he picked up his rap:\r\n\r\n            "If you remember, we had a mission\r\n            killed and ate a lion as we got in position\r\n            We have to be brave as we invade the cave\r\n            Eddie's brain wave brings down a knave!"\r\n\r\nLeon winced. Cave was such an easy word to rhyme, too. Maybe he just wasn't cut out for rap.\r\n\r\n            "A big-ass hydra got in our way\r\n            now you know me and Edward messed up his day\r\n            What did we do with the body?\r\n            Aw, come on, yall know me!\r\n\r\nInstead of rapping, Leon simply spoke the next part of the story (or, as it's know in rap circles, performed a "talky bit"): "Yeah, we skinned its corpse and left its skeletal heads on pikes as a warning to others." Leon said. "Then we used the skin to make super-cute hydra skin hand bags. Uh-huh.\r\n\r\n            Now this sort of news might amaze\r\n            but me and Eddie found a bridge somewhere in that cave\r\n            Now this baby arced over a pit\r\n            but it was made of rainbows and gumdrops and shit\r\n\r\n            I'm tellin' you now, this bridge was the bomb\r\n            but that's not really the point, let's get to the WoM!"\r\n\r\n\r\nWith that note, Leon threw his head back and cackled, causing his hood to fall off. He quickly pulled it back over his head. Unfortunately, his haste caused his right ear to be turned inside out. The annoyed Leon struggled to fix this. After fixing his ear, Leon began straightening his hood. Suddenly, he looked up. He removed his hands from his hood and slowly walked back to the mike. "So as I was saying:\r\n\r\n            I first heard of this event\r\n            'fore any of you even caught its scent\r\n            I wasn't gonna join in, too easy a win\r\n            they wanted me to join, to my chagrin\r\n\r\n            Went to the place to sign on up,\r\n            met a dude on the way so I was like 'sup!'\r\n            he knew bout the WoM, with inside information\r\n            told me what was up with little persuasion\r\n\r\n            Learned about the situation \r\n            with his cooperation\r\n            gonna take down the mods, then administration\r\n            for the record, this dude wasn't Caucasian."\r\n\r\nLeon shrugged. Maybe he was exaggerating little bit, but it kind of made sense: If Leon had extraordinary knowledge in the rap, it logically followed that anyone who actually knew what it was had inside information. "So then I sent in my application-" Leon rapped. "Er, never mind. I'm not starting that again." Leon waited for a few more measures before continuing:\r\n\r\n            "Sent in a filled-out form\r\n            it evidently was the norm\r\n            whole deal was kinda unimpressive\r\n            so next round I got aggressive:\r\n\r\n            I was in the tavern a few rounds ago\r\n            Strop came by with balls to throw\r\n            he threw them real hard and they kinda hurt\r\n            I knew his plan I would have to subvert\r\n\r\n            Tried to fight past but he was too fast\r\n            I could avoid 'cause the place was so vast\r\n            tried to fight but his aim was unsurpassed\r\n            lost the game but had a blast!"\r\n\r\nLeon paused to take a breath. He was getting ahead of himself. His lines were becoming longer and longer. He decided that the best method of getting back on track was to employ a talky bit: "So then, one dude up and blows up a bakery or some crap. Might have been some sort of governmental building. I don't know. Anyway, we followed the clues and it led us right to the guilty party. Then, the dude tried to make his escape using the obstacle course built into the moat - I'm not making this crap up!\r\n\r\n            We chased this guy and didn't die\r\n            though I had the help of my ally\r\n            Pretty soon he summons a dragon\r\n            we escape with the rest of the lagan!"\r\n\r\nLeon stopped for a moment to pat his hyena.\r\n\r\n            "Then, I turn into a girl\r\n            not my cup 'o tea, but I gave it whirl\r\n            not sure what happened, it was really confusing,\r\n            but I got this shitty jewelry and cash I was losing."\r\n\r\nLeon pulled out the piece of jewelry he had purchased while female and tossed it off stage. He wasn't sure how much he had paid for it, but it must have been overpriced.\r\n\r\n            "That's it for now, we're caught up to the present\r\n            I hope you all found this rap pleasent\r\n            that's all for now; it's off stage with me\r\n            Keep a look out for Leon's tale part three!"\r\n\r\nBoth Leon and his hyena laughed like gnolls and hyenas. As the music faded away, Leon trotted off stage merrily, mumbling something about silly elf songs.\r\n\r\n---------------------------------\r\n\r\nOK, my punctuation should be fine. If there are weird symbols instead of quotation marks or something, you can kill me.

offline

FireflyIV

3,224 posts

Nomad

Posted March 10, '10 7:44pm UTC

You mean to say.... that... you... don't... have... to... rap?!
Well, as long as Strop does it doesn't matter.

Firefly's the instigator, not the rhyme creator.

Nope, I have no idea how Firefly would even remotely be embarrassed if he had to anyway lol.

Of course, you are correct. He would, as they say in South London, 'murk the scene'. Actually scratch that, it's phrases like that which lead to the aformentioned embarassment.

I think I'll stop talking for a while.

offline

crimsonblade55

5,420 posts

Shepherd

Posted March 10, '10 10:27pm UTC

A New Tone

Crimson had been challenged with what could only be called his worst fear...rap. He was not going to stand for supporting such a genre, so he had to look for another main stream genre that was at least better then rap. He looked through his archives finding only the Legend of Brutal, and or course such a genre is dead so he would not be able to pull something like that off, but there was still hope in a still alive genre that was almost just as good:

Second wave of American Tween Melodicï»¿ Rap Metalcore...it'll have to do!

He brought to the stage magic self-playing guitars, drums, and scratch-table(or whatever its called) and decided to try to keep as close to the metal part as possible...

--------------------------------------------------------------------
[Song starts with black metal voice]
I heard the screams from my keep
Preparing to defend it like Helms Deep
I grabbed my boots, my cloak, my blade
only to find out there was no need for aid
The source of the commotion was an ad
One that for the first time wasn't half-bad
I gazed at the wall of ink, till my eyes turned pink
It was a competition of power
One from which I could not cower
The chance to feed the blades taint
To use the spammers blood as paint
So I grabbed my blade and was on my way,
except the challenge was not on this day
so I waited and trained for what was to come
training myself till my hands went numb...[voice goes normal]ok well maybe not
[changes back]
but still I trained unless you forgot,for future foes or at least I thought
I entered the theater waiting to meet my fate, when Frank came in crashing late
Fire and flares shot through the air, as music played in an epic manner
shooting through the sky without a care underneath the Armor banner
Then came a yell "Queen Carlie" they screamed with a resounding shock
as I rubbed and polished my shiny red co-[voice changes again]blade....yeah
[voice changes back to black metal, but lowers to almost a whisper]
so I waited as the crowd got quiet
except for the trolls trying to start a riot
but besides them all was silent
not even the flamers wanted to get violent
I tried to listen to what she had to say
before my attention quickly started to decay
[Voice changes back to black metal]
then came Strop being formal as ever
he would tell us about our future endeavor
He then called to the stage Cenere who was quite withdrawn
repeating himself before he shuffled on
He told us that we needed to "register today"
before the crowd rushed the stage to his dismay
[insert random guitar solo here]
I waited in the Community Hall for the contest to begin
when a multi-colored ball almost hit my chin
more came around and hit me in the face
I tried cutting them down failing to my disgrace
I used cheap paintings each as a shield
before I noticed that the entrance was sealed
[goes schizo and changes into nerdy voice]
I backed into a corner and used magic made purely of math
to trick the balls and cut myself an open path
I quickly made my way to a secret exit and gave them the slip
I decided next I would wait in my keep for the time and made the trip
[changes back to black metal again]
Afterwords came a french hippo wanting revenge
it was his "boulanger " that he wanted to avenge
[turns back into nerd]
boasting about his heroics for whatever reason
before asking again of our apparent treason
After much bickering we eventually realized who did the crime
We eventually agreed that it was dudeguy who was covered in grime
[back to black metal...this must be confusing to keep up with huh?]
Then it was time to run the obstacle course
My only chance to beat it was a magic force
The same math that would win me beat round 3
would be turned into my own personal flying banshee
It was obvious though that this course was quite underhanded
I beat the challenge by the skin of my face on which I landed
but it was the next day that the true tragedy would occur
[Another guitar solo for good measure]
Zophia released a bomb that made the he's into her's
I immediately realized that I was somehow a chick
I knew for sure when I saw that I didn't have a di-[voice goes normal]...well you get the idea
[back to black metal, this is the last time I swear!]
I kept to myself only buying new jeans
until of the curse I was washed clean
Its been quite a story to tell my friend
but this is where the story comes to an end

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

As he stopped singing fireworks shot up out of nowhere, and he used the distraction to escape the stage while the ADD infected audience was distracted. He decided to back in with the crowd so that he could watch the rest of the show.

[b]A New Tone[/b]\r\n\r\nCrimson had been challenged with what could only be called his worst fear...rap. He was not going to stand for supporting such a genre, so he had to look for another main stream genre that was at least better then rap. He looked through his archives finding only the Legend of Brutal, and or course such a genre is dead so he would not be able to pull something like that off, but there was still hope in a still alive genre that was almost just as good:\r\n\r\nSecond wave of American Tween Melodicï»¿ Rap Metalcore...it'll have to do!\r\n\r\nHe brought to the stage magic self-playing guitars, drums, and scratch-table(or whatever its called) and decided to try to keep as close to the metal part as possible...\r\n\r\n--------------------------------------------------------------------\r\n[[i]Song starts with black metal voice[/i]]\r\nI heard the screams from my keep\r\nPreparing to defend it like Helms Deep\r\nI grabbed my boots, my cloak, my blade\r\nonly to find out there was no need for aid\r\nThe source of the commotion was an ad\r\nOne that for the first time wasn't half-bad\r\nI gazed at the wall of ink, till my eyes turned pink\r\nIt was a competition of power\r\nOne from which I could not cower\r\nThe chance to feed the blades taint\r\nTo use the spammers blood as paint\r\nSo I grabbed my  blade and was on my way,\r\nexcept the challenge was not on this day\r\nso I waited and trained for what was to come\r\ntraining myself till my hands went numb...[[i]voice goes normal[/i]]ok well maybe not\r\n[[i]changes back[/i]]\r\nbut still I trained unless you forgot,for future foes or at least I thought\r\nI entered the theater waiting to meet my fate, when Frank came in crashing late\r\nFire and flares shot through the air, as music played in an epic manner\r\nshooting through the sky without a care underneath the Armor banner\r\nThen came a yell "Queen Carlie" they screamed with a resounding shock\r\nas I rubbed and polished my shiny red co-[[i]voice changes again[/i]]blade....yeah\r\n[[i]voice changes back to black metal, but lowers to almost a whisper[/i]]\r\nso I waited as the crowd got quiet\r\nexcept for the trolls trying to start a riot\r\nbut besides them all was silent\r\nnot even the flamers wanted to get violent\r\nI tried to listen to what she had to say\r\nbefore my attention quickly started to decay\r\n[[i]Voice changes back to black metal[/i]]\r\nthen came Strop being formal as ever\r\nhe would tell us about our future endeavor\r\nHe then called to the stage Cenere who was quite withdrawn\r\nrepeating himself before he shuffled on\r\nHe told us that we needed to "register today"\r\nbefore the crowd rushed the stage to his dismay\r\n[[i]insert random guitar solo here[/i]]\r\nI waited in the Community Hall for the contest to begin\r\nwhen a multi-colored ball almost hit my chin\r\nmore came around and hit me in the face\r\nI tried cutting them down failing to my disgrace\r\nI used cheap paintings each as a shield\r\nbefore I noticed that the entrance was sealed\r\n[[i]goes schizo and changes into nerdy voice[/i]]\r\nI backed into a corner and used magic made purely of math\r\nto trick the balls and cut myself an open path\r\nI quickly made my way to a secret exit and gave them the slip\r\nI decided next I would wait in my keep for the time and made the trip\r\n[[i]changes back to black metal again[/i]]\r\nAfterwords came a french hippo wanting revenge\r\nit was his "boulanger " that he wanted to avenge\r\n[[i]turns back into nerd[/i]]\r\nboasting about his heroics for whatever reason\r\nbefore asking again of our apparent treason\r\nAfter much bickering we eventually realized who did the crime\r\nWe eventually agreed that it was dudeguy who was covered in grime\r\n[[i]back to black metal...this must be confusing to keep up with huh?[/i]]\r\nThen it was time to run the obstacle course\r\nMy only chance to beat it was a magic force\r\nThe same math that would win me beat round 3\r\nwould be turned into my own personal flying banshee\r\nIt was obvious though that this course was quite underhanded\r\nI beat the challenge by the skin of my face on which I landed\r\nbut it was the next day that the true tragedy would occur\r\n[[i]Another guitar solo for good measure[/i]]\r\nZophia released a bomb that made the he's into her's\r\nI immediately realized that I was somehow a chick\r\nI knew for sure when I saw that I didn't have a di-[[i]voice goes normal[/i]]...well you get the idea\r\n[[i]back to black metal, this is the last time I swear![/i]]\r\nI kept to myself only buying new jeans\r\nuntil of the curse I was washed clean\r\nIts been quite a story to tell my friend\r\nbut this is where the story comes to an end\r\n\r\n--------------------------------------------------------------------\r\n\r\nAs he stopped singing fireworks shot up out of nowhere, and he used the distraction to escape the stage while the ADD infected audience was distracted. He decided to back in with the crowd so that he could watch the rest of the show.

offline

thisisnotanalt

9,821 posts

Shepherd

Posted March 11, '10 2:50am UTC

This is it.

Chill stepped out into the area where the rap battle was taking place. It was a large, round room, with various stages set up everywhere. Chill had come prepared for the event - wearing nearly opaque golden glasses that he needed to look under to be able to see, plating his entire mouth in gold, buying a solid gold coffee cup to accompany him to the stage, and even blending some gold leaf into some water to maintain an aura of gold mist around him at all times. He also had a few gold bars cut into strips and fastened to one of his hoodies. His shoes were painted gold.

Stepping out onto the stage, he grabbed a microphone and introduced himself.

"Hey, I'm Chill, it's my pleasure to be performing for you guys today. I'll be detailing my achievements insofar for the Way of Moderation Trials!"

Chill cracked his knuckles, his spine, and his toes, and busted into the rap.

came in clad in the opposite of orange
just more mold from the internet sporange
wrote the first two lines as a rap unrelated
just offtopicness of the ASC upgraded

from the other AG I autoextradited
came to this one self-indicted
signed up as part of the WoM canon
taken by the wing like little Rhiannon

tearin' up dodgeball like I was from the Triassic
speed and smarts combined, cephalothoracic
destroyed half the Armusement Park, playin it bombastic
while I was trippin my balls off on senna and acid

I ain't the best in physical fitness
my muscles have a pitiful quizzical thickness
I got the strength and fluffy down of a permissible Cycnus
I'm not exactly a target of insatiable libidinousness

but when the steeplechase came around
I fell in line and held my ground
despite losing my pants halfway through
around 5th place is what I managed to accrue

and when I was crash-course ballistically emasculated
crazily, unexpectedly, unfairly effeminated
I became a master of retail recession suppresion
when I stopped buying crap, I caused a depression

and now I'm here, broadcastin' my skills
rappin' like a madman, handin' out thrills
light as a mite on a feather quill
I'm bustin' out cold, and my name is Chill!

He finished by throwing the microphone, which had become encased in ice, into the crowd. The air around him was so cold that his gold mist fell to the ground in a million shining beads, and the very air around him began to liquefy, only to evaporate again within less than a second. Stepping off the stage, he was so lightheaded that he had to freeze himself a walking stick, which he leaned on heavily. He was still smiling as he left the stage, only to fall down outside, scooting up against the wall, taking puffs from his asthma inhaler. An audience member, decked out in gang signs, walked out.

"Yo, what drug you doin' there? I haven't had a hit 'a' anything for a while, lemme knock some down."

"This is my asthma inhaler. You'd get higher from sniffing a rotting banana."

"D*mn man, when a guy wants a buzz . . . ."

Chill was visibly annoyed at this point, and so he froze the guy's mouth shut, forced himself to his feet, and walked off, back to Aristocrat Way.

If I could upload audio files, I'd totally share my phat gangsta beatboxing/faux-trumpet solo.

This is it.\r\n\r\nChill stepped out into the area where the rap battle was taking place.  It was a large, round room, with various stages set up everywhere.  Chill had come prepared for the event - wearing nearly opaque golden glasses that he needed to look under to be able to see, plating his entire mouth in gold, buying a solid gold coffee cup to accompany him to the stage, and even blending some gold leaf into some water to maintain an aura of gold mist around him at all times.  He also had a few gold bars cut into strips and fastened to one of his hoodies.  His shoes were painted gold.\r\n\r\nStepping out onto the stage, he grabbed a microphone and introduced himself.\r\n\r\n"Hey, I'm Chill, it's my pleasure to be performing for you guys today.  I'll be detailing my achievements insofar for the Way of Moderation Trials!"\r\n\r\nChill cracked his knuckles, his spine, and his toes, and busted into the rap.\r\n\r\ncame in clad in the opposite of orange\r\njust more mold from the internet sporange\r\nwrote the first two lines as a rap unrelated\r\njust offtopicness of the ASC upgraded\r\n\r\nfrom the other AG I autoextradited\r\ncame to this one self-indicted\r\nsigned up as part of the WoM canon\r\ntaken by the wing like little Rhiannon\r\n\r\ntearin' up dodgeball like I was from the Triassic\r\nspeed and smarts combined, cephalothoracic\r\ndestroyed half the Armusement Park, playin it bombastic\r\nwhile I was trippin my balls off on senna and acid\r\n\r\nI ain't the best in physical fitness\r\nmy muscles have a pitiful quizzical thickness\r\nI got the strength and fluffy down of a permissible Cycnus\r\nI'm not exactly a target of insatiable libidinousness\r\n\r\nbut when the steeplechase came around\r\nI fell in line and held my ground\r\ndespite losing my pants halfway through\r\naround 5th place is what I managed to accrue\r\n\r\nand when I was crash-course ballistically emasculated\r\ncrazily, unexpectedly, unfairly effeminated\r\nI became a master of retail recession suppresion\r\nwhen I stopped buying crap, I caused a depression\r\n\r\nand now I'm here, broadcastin' my skills\r\nrappin' like a madman, handin' out thrills\r\nlight as a mite on a feather quill\r\nI'm bustin' out cold, and my name is Chill!\r\n\r\nHe finished by throwing the microphone, which had become encased in ice, into the crowd.  The air around him was so cold that his gold mist fell to the ground in a million shining beads, and the very air around him began to liquefy, only to evaporate again within less than a second.  Stepping off the stage, he was so lightheaded that he had to freeze himself a walking stick, which he leaned on heavily.  He was still smiling as he left the stage, only to fall down outside, scooting up against the wall, taking puffs from his asthma inhaler.  An audience member, decked out in gang signs, walked out.\r\n\r\n"Yo, what drug you doin' there?  I haven't had a hit 'a' anything for a while, lemme knock some down."\r\n\r\n"This is my asthma inhaler.  You'd get higher from sniffing a rotting banana."\r\n\r\n"D*mn man, when a guy wants a buzz . . . ."\r\n\r\nChill was visibly annoyed at this point, and so he froze the guy's mouth shut, forced himself to his feet, and walked off, back to Aristocrat Way.\r\n\r\n[img]http://img442.imageshack.us/img442/1598/chillfortherap.png[/img]\r\n\r\nIf I could upload audio files, I'd totally share my phat gangsta beatboxing/faux-trumpet solo.

offline

Strop

10,816 posts

Bard

Posted March 13, '10 12:04am UTC

Tournament news:

So far, I can count 6 entries posted. I see most of you also didn't make the edits I asked of you but by this stage, that's okay :P We're waiting on a couple more people to post (poisonarrow and goumas).

Also, I've sent out final calls to those who haven't. Of these, Parsat is the only one to have replied: he has withdrawn from the tournament (having accidentally inhaled a potentially fatal dose of chilli soup). Gametesta and Pixel, CHECK YOUR EMAIL!

I've finished three of my assignments, which means I only have three left. These being due on Monday, I expect we'll be finishing this round and moving to the next part shortly thereafter.

offline

Pois0nArr0w

2,053 posts

Nomad

Posted March 13, '10 1:01am UTC

Well, here we go, Frank thought. This is most likely going to blow my chances to hell...
Frank walked out onto the stage, slat glasses blinding him, digital clock swinging into his gut, and pants so on the ground he left a trail where the floor had been dusted. The crowd was already making fun of him. He hadn't expected this until he actually started to rap.
"Dammit..." He pulled his pants back to his waist, lifted his slat glasses so he could se the mic, and proceded towards it. Then someone in the audience threw a tomato. Frank dodged it, and turned angrily towards the culprit.
"Yer not supposed to throw till after I rap, jackass!" But they kept coming, and not just tomatos. Frank could've sworn he saw a watermellon in there. Giving a heavy sigh, Frank ran back stage and grabbed his bow. He knocked a special arrow he had picked up during his female experience, and fired it above the crowd. When it reached it's peak, it exploded in a rain of sparks and light, singing eyebrows and disorienting users all around.
"Okay, now that I have your attention, I'd like to begin." All were quiet, save for the starter of the food fight. "That means you too, jackass." Frank got his attention, in the form of another tomato. This time, though, he caught the projectile and returned it to it's sender. That shut him up.
"Now then..." Frank took a minute to go over the rap in his head, and then began.

I gotta be honest this contest's been hell
Goin' for the final eight but I ain't doin so well

I been shot down, horse punted, beaten with balls,
And that ain't even the start of it; you should se my scars

Pony boy here he got his tail in a twist
Over the crazy sh*t he got planned for our next sentence

And through all this I been strong I hven't given up
Cause eight's not enough, I'm goin' for Number One!

"You may now throw." And so the crowd did. Frank ran once more back stage, grabbed his cutlass, and jumped into the crowd. He herded off Jackass and a few others, and ran out the back door after them.
--

I may have put as little effort into this as I did my first entry. Woo, procrastination...

Back to the corner.

[i]Well, here we go[/i], Frank thought. [i]This is most likely going to blow my chances to hell...[/i]\r\nFrank walked out onto the stage, slat glasses blinding him, digital clock swinging into his gut, and pants so on the ground he left a trail where the floor had been dusted. The crowd was already making fun of him. He hadn't expected this until he actually started to rap.\r\n"Dammit..."  He pulled his pants back to his waist, lifted his slat glasses so he could se the mic, and proceded towards it. Then someone in the audience threw a tomato. Frank dodged it, and turned angrily towards the culprit. \r\n"Yer not supposed to throw till after I rap, jackass!" But they kept coming, and not just tomatos. Frank could've sworn he saw a watermellon in there. Giving a heavy sigh, Frank ran back stage and grabbed his bow. He knocked a special arrow he had picked up during his female experience, and fired it above the crowd. When it reached it's peak, it exploded in a rain of sparks and light, singing eyebrows and disorienting users all around. \r\n"Okay, now that I have your attention, I'd like to begin." All were quiet, save for the starter of the food fight. "That means you too, jackass." Frank got his attention, in the form of another tomato. This time, though, he caught the projectile and returned it to it's sender. That shut him up.\r\n"Now then..." Frank took a minute to go over the rap in his head, and then began.\r\n\r\nI gotta be honest this contest's been hell\r\nGoin' for the final eight but I ain't doin so well\r\n\r\nI been shot down, horse punted, beaten with balls,\r\nAnd that ain't even the start of it; you should se my scars\r\n\r\nPony boy here he got his tail in a twist\r\nOver the crazy sh*t he got planned for our next sentence\r\n\r\nAnd through all this I been strong I hven't given up\r\nCause eight's not enough, I'm goin' for Number One!\r\n\r\n"You may now throw." And so the crowd did. Frank ran once more back stage, grabbed his cutlass, and jumped into the crowd. He herded off Jackass and a few others, and ran out the back door after them.\r\n--\r\n\r\nI may have put as little effort into this as I did my first entry. Woo, procrastination...\r\n\r\nBack to the corner.

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