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.
Alt: I don't ask questions, and you clearly typed me asking a question, therefore breaking one of the rules of the Aftermath. I must now turn your left hand into a moldy waffle.
*Pickle noms Moats moldy left hand* Pickle: Ooohhh, I feel strange. Shack: You should feel fine, just some all natural penicillin. *Pickle turns into a tree* Shack: Pickle? ........... Shack: Pickle, can you hear me? ........... Shack: Pickle!!! Pickle: No I can't hear you, I'm a tree dammit! Oh...I guess I can hear you. Shack: HAHAHAH! YOU'RE A TREE! I'M GOING TO LIGHT YOU ON FIRE!!! FINALLY THE OPPORTUNITY TO KILL YOU I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR!! *Pickle smashes Shack with one of his giant limbs* Pickle: I think not.
Jess: Well, Skye being the one who killed him in the first place... But, no... no I guess I have nothing against the guy.. mind.. thing Skye: Yeahup, and Moat is pretty d.amn cool
But, no... no I guess I have nothing against the guy.. mind.. thing Skye: Yeahup, and Moat is pretty d.amn cool
Moat: I'm flattered, really. *piano falls on him*. No, that's not strange either. Skye, are you sure the octagonal room is subject to...um...reality? Skye: Nope. Moat: That figures. And Jess, MM is more of a...projection. He's Moat's other conscious half. *Moat regrows his hand*. Who wants more moldy waffles?
*Pickle turns back into a manbearpig* Pickle: Crap...hey, when did we end up in the octagonal room? Shack: Can anyone help pull me out of the ground?! Pickle: No, I vote no. Moat: I second that vote. Jess: Aww, come on guys lets help him out. Pickle: Nope...not happening. Moat: I second that second motion! Pickle: Lets open one of these doors! Moat, Skye, Jess, Shack: NOOOOOOOO!!!! *Pickle opens a door...nothing happens* Pickle: Huh, whadya know? Nothing happened.
Ma: Damn, there's no pool in this octagonal room! What am I gonna do?! A: Oh, God, now he's gonna slowly go insane... oh look, a bullet ant is crawling in through that hole. Ma: That's... not good. A: Oh look, another door. *Opens door* Ma: *Falls out of door*
Pickle: Huh, I wonder where that door leads... *Walks over to door that Manta just fell through* Pickle: It's just black down...I wonder whats up, AHHHHH!! *Manta suddenly appears above Pickles head falling on top of it and dragging Pickle into the endless revolving hole* Shack: HA! Serves you right!
