terminal 0
unfinished
/!\ A MESSAGE FROM JOEY /!\ Heh heh heh. You're standing in the SPOOKY district of INFINITYS - a place people have been avoiding for thousands of years. People are convinced the area is haunted, but so what if it is? I know you can handle it. I also happen to know that there are previously undiscovered failstaches here. Maybe Olmec will be inspired to deliver an even more eloquent message if you can bring him some that he didn't even know about. The cyborgs will help you here. If you get too scared and want to return to your original path, return to THIS terminal after collecting the failstaches and I will send you back. You'll have to do something for me, of course. Otherwise, I know of thousands more undiscovered failstaches scattered across the catacombs of the SPOOKY district. Go on, if you dare. Heh heh heh.
A group of us owns all your souls. People once thought we were trolls. We feel no remorse, So you hate us, of course: It's too late to escape our control. - irons Chained by my veins to a tree, Muscle-bound eternity, As I fall from my grace, Hell's fire on my face, I cry to the CLIQUE, "WHY ME!" - irons Some call us Babylon whores And regard us as festering sores, But to find the true flaw, The thorn in your craw, Realize your shame and go orz. - irons
We have here the thickest of cliques They debase all outsiders for kicks They ban without warning If your thoughts aren't conforming. It's composed of incomparable dicks. - Inguinal Falx Delusions of Grandeur they share And fake pfhorums nicknames to spare And the masses obey! (only six of us play) Guess they need more young newbies to scare - Inguinal Falx For the most part they all seem distraught 'Cause the mapmaking prowess they sought Has clearly eluded They're all just deluded That they ever could match Double-Aught. - Inguinal Falx
Good maps are so rare and so few As an elitist, bad maps I eschew I did what I could I thought they were good Alas, they're like -- u no -- or do u - RyokoTK From engine to engine I flee, Nothing can satisfy me. My physics and math Determined my path: The integer 2.5D. - irons The Pope's voice now must be muted: He's Cath'lic religion polluted. I swear to you now, With deep-furrowed brow-- Ignorance makes the diluted. - irons
Post game carnage, blood spurtin' Wounded on battlefields hurtin' They looked to the sky A gleam in God's eye Taps you the eight-foot-tall Burton - irons With spokes like a wheel on a bike This map will abuse the netmic. One Way part two, THE LORD must have made you, While shouting, "WHICH DOYOO LIKE?" - irons Art without being a dick: Nameless gave us a kick. Then Macs came to town Shedding tears of a clown For badly drawn shit on a stick. - irons
Naivety spurred a raw youth to seek To have done with the judgement of CLIQUE Foredoomed is his find Fecality enshrined Spake the modal whose hand is UBIQUE - patrick The CLIQUE is beyond compare Its members honored and rare They never can fail To utterly derail Member topics with their sublime snares - chinkeeyong My name is Marcus; my job is to guard A former S'pht moon: it isn't that hard At women I wink Off hours I drink And fondle myself--by vice I am marred - patrick
For a CO, I've a jerk called Tfear "New orders my boy" he says with a sneer "With Vac Bob now speak But mind that you keep Far from Bob's sister--I've seen how you leer" - patrick His sister's called Leela (his sister is hot) We're alone in the lab--just me and sexpot 'Tis a chance I can't miss But before we can kiss Bob waddles in and bleats "Time for the plot" - patrick
He rambles on about space and its curves I'm eyeing Leela (I much prefer hers) Six hours have passed He's finished at last A lever is thrown and my vision blurs - patrick I awake in a craft, cold metal and grey Leela's not here, but no time to inveigh For hanging in void I sight huge ast'roid My pod hurtles toward it forgoing foreplay - patrick I'm pulled from the wreck by a woman serene I'm told she's called Hathor--at this her eyes gleam I've had a great fall But her I recall Mayhap from a dream or some lewd magazine - patrick
Hathor takes my hand; we pass through airlock No sounds heard aboard; I ask as we walk: "Is the crew up ahead?" "M'hmm, but they're dead." Here is her cabin: she laughs; I defrock - patrick The lady I've won; our amour has begun But as to her background--she doesn't forthcome In hope of tale bawdry I open her diary It reads: marcus why can't you see what i've done - patrick
success
Oh, you're getting too scared and want out of the SPOOKY district so soon? I'm a little disappointed, but now I get to have some fun with you. That was our deal. Just close your eyes and you'll be back to collecting Olmec's original failstaches in no time.