The chill out/warm up RP.

  • Thread starter Thread starter xobscenemetalmelodiez
  • Start date Start date
Jojo arrived at the prison to find everyone brutally raped. It appeared she was too late, they were all dead from massive anal hemorrhages, but one of the guards crawled and tried to speak. She darted down to him, lifting him and allowing him to lean on her.
"M...monkey?" he strained.
"Call me Jojo."
"Holy shit I must be more fucked up than I thought."
She rolled her eyes. "Tell me, did you see a naked man here? With a magical dangalang?"
"Yeah, he...he dropped the lizard off...he...the lizard raped us all."
"Don't worry, you'll be fine, tell me, where did the naked man go?"
"He...said he was going home. He gave us all a card...in case we needed to get in touch." He looked to his pocket. Jojo grabbed the card and dropped the guard to the floor with a thud. He let out a tired groan of pain.
"Bingo." She called Johnson. "Johnson, give me a location for this number," she entered it into her spy wristband dibby, "and send an ambulance to the Police Station. There's been a serial rape."
"Sure thing, Jojo."

When she got the address she headed there immediately and waited outside, pressing a button on her bike to bring the top over, making it into a Tron bike kinda thing. She sat back inside, waiting for the naked guy to come out so she could get her dry cleaning bill paid.

Jojo fell asleep after a while, but was awoken in the morning by the arrival of an ambulance. She waited outside for a while to see what was going on, and after not too long some paramedics came back out of the house laughing and high-fiving one another. The ambulance drove off, and curious to know what was going on she made her way inside.

Lying on the bedroom floor was the remains of the naked guy, she could tell from the only half-devoured dangalang. In the corner was a crying hand. Jojo looked around and saw his wallet on the bedside cabinet. She opened it and took out the money for the dry cleaning. Looking around to see if anyone was watching she then shrugged and took the rest of the money, the credit cards and a membership card to Super Dangalang Club.
"Hmm."
She then strolled out, grabbing the fruit bowl and taking it with her as she left.

Jojo returned home and watched several hours of Cribs while eating her stolen fruit and other things she ordered in using Mike Rotch's money. She'd already called Johnson to take care of the dry cleaning. Life was good.
 
Character Sheet:
Name: 步行通过河
Age: 十七
Gender: 男性
Occupation: 古老中國戰士。 也一名兼職点心师。
Special ability: 投擲的匕首酥皮點心
Likes: 香港奔忙
Dislikes: 認為他的人们输入日本人
Favourite fruit:梨。

步行通过河(我們將告诉他簡稱將。)快活进入了屋子。 " 你好,對所有我的朋友! " 他驚嘆了。 " 我在這裡賣酥皮點心! " 所有看他奇蹟的,和後來跑到他購買他講話的酥皮點心。
 
Character Sheet:
Name: 步行通过河
Age: 十七
Gender: 男性
Occupation: 古老中國戰士。 也一名兼職点心师。
Special ability: 投擲的匕首酥皮點心
Likes: 香港奔忙
Dislikes: 認為他的人们输入日本人
Favourite fruit:梨。

步行通过河(我們將告诉他簡稱將。)快活进入了屋子。 " 你好,對所有我的朋友! " 他驚嘆了。 " 我在這裡賣酥皮點心! " 所有看他奇蹟的,和後來跑到他購買他講話的酥皮點心。
YOU VELY FUNNY MAN. I ROR'D./caps
 
i'm just wondering how many waps tried translating it thinking it was japanese :dontknow:
Lolz.
I'm not quite so great with languages that I could tell straight off, but I made an educated guess it was Chinese rather than Japanese. lul
 
I haz to join diz! I love you for making this Laura, and I'm pretty sure I'd marry frosty now!

Name: The Douche.
Age: It's difficult too work out douche years to human years.
Gender: Male.
Race: A literal giant douche. But he does have arms and legs.
Occupation: Hobo.
Special power: Being a giant literal douche.
Enjoys: Not being a Hobo.
Hobbies: Weeing up walls.
***​
The Douche vomited up the wall in the alley way, a normal night. He put his back to the wall and slid down, he allowed his hand to let the empty alcohol bottle roll out. He began to sob uncontrollably, a normal night. He pulled "her" picture out of... somewhere... and looked at it. 'Ah god Sophie, I loved uuuu, but peoples they just don't underSTAND argh loveees' He struggled over to his "house" a cardboard box; he threw out the stray cat which simply took off offended. He pulled out a bottle of vodka; his last one. 'Aww damn'. He struggled to his feet and began to run to the liquor store.
 
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Then Jojo died the end. Of her at least.

Character Sheet:
Name: Dhoskephutaugac-thalegoth Ddd-uathnygngnanscharugotuagnaqusUr`catlzot A'lzhathailLazota. Or Scharu for short.
Age: 932929483. Appears like...10.
Gender: Female.
Race: Uknown. Probably a goddamn demon. From space.
Occupation: Whatever the hell she feels like.
Special ability: Millions.
Likes: Pretty dresses, toys, sweets, flowers, music, dancing, drawing, baby animals, blowing shit up, murdering, raping, pillaging, corrupting.
Dislikes: Anything that pisses her off. You.
Favourite fruit: Strawberries.
Favourite Band: Cannibal Corpse.
Least Favourite Art Movement: Modernism.
Favourite Sex Position: Jesus Christ, she may be like a bazigillion years old but she looks TEN for fuck's sake. You sick motherfucker.


Scharu was skipping down the street merrily when all of a sudden she saw a giant douche run by. It seemed to be headed to the liquor store, and took little to no notice of her. Intrigued by this hideous crime against God she followed after, entering the booze emporium to find it sobbing uncontrollably on the counter, pausing every now and again only to take a swig from a bottle of cheap vodka. "Ah god Sophie," it was wailing, though the guy serving him didn't seem to even be paying attention. He took a long drag from his cigar, staring into space.

Scharu waltzed up to the counter casually. "I'll take your most expensive intoxicant, my good man."
The guy looked down at her. He was fat and wearing a dirty wifebeater, stained with a great many horrible things. He seemed to be breaking a sweat from breathing. "Sure," he said in a gruff voice, turning and grabbing a bottle from the many shelves behind him and placing in on the counter in front of her, "here's out most pricey hooch, kid. That'll be fifty bucks."
"That was easy enough," she thought to herself. So many establishments selling alcohol would refuse to serve her, so this made a nice change. Clearly she was in the presence of a very perceptive man for him to realise she was in fact quite capable of taking her liquor. Then she realised she had no money. Looking around, trying to come up with a plan, she noticed a wallet sticking out of the back of the large douche. She looked from side to side; the fat guy was back to staring off into space again. She slipped the wallet from the back of the douche and looked through it, taking what little money was within, along with several credit cards, a driver's license, and a membership card to something called "HUGE FAT TAT LOVERS". "Hmm, he must be a tattoo enthusiast." With that she placed the money on the counter, "Thank you my good man!"
She stepped out of the shop and waited outside for the douche, wondering what he'd do next. As she did so she decided to try the "hooch" the man had sold her. It had quite a kick to it, it seemed.
 
Return of The Douche

Return of The Douche

The Douche staggered along the street, not as drunkenly as he would have liked. He sobbed uncontrollably as he went and the girl - or so she seemed - that was watching him went unnoticed. The Douche smacked open the door of the liquor store and went over to the counter, he then proceeded to vomit all over it. The man at the counter didn't seem to care though and continued to stare into space.
'I neeeeds some Vodkas man, I neeeeeds it to take away the pain. Oh God Sophie, oh GOD, why? Why didn't they just let us be!' He picked his head up from the counter to the man wearing the wife beater.
'I used to be something you know, SOMEDOUCHE, I used to have it alls. I worked for the C.I.A, I was the best bastard in that place, but people just won't let a douche and a woman BE. I meanz we were going to get married and have kids; but no, NO, they just couldn't let us be. I can kill a man in 1032058 ways, with a PENCIL-'

During The Douche's speeched - in which his face... 🙂dontknow🙂 was in the vomit on the counter - the "young" girl had come in, been served, taken his wallet and then left. The Douche took ten minutes crying on the counter before raising his head to the man behind the counter again.
'I'll take some Vodkas' the man placed it down on the counter; he was used to The Douche, he didn't really care about the sobbing as long as he paid.
'The cheap crap right?'
'Yeah' The Douche reached back for his wallet only to find it was gone, he sobbed hard.
'Oh God it's gone, my moneys... can I have it for free?'
'No'
The Douche then knew what he had to do, he saw a pencil on the counter. If this was a movie, at this point the screen would go black and white because even the most hardened man couldn't deal with the amount of blood.

The Douche stepped over the mangled body of the man and began to grab the bottles behind the counter. He sobbed as he did so, he continued to sob as he stole the rest of the things in the store.
'What haves I BECOME' he said walking out the store, he look at his arm realising his heroin addiction was acting up. He began to run to his dealer.
 
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Presenting my second character, whom will probably die in the second or third post, to keep my from blowing my brains out in boredom:

THIS CHARACTER IS NOW DEAD.

Name: Suave Squirrel, a.k.a, Mr. Nuts.
Age: 3.
Gender: Male.
Race: Squirrel.
Occupation: He's the C.I.A's clean up guy.
Current Mission: To kill The Douche as he is now a rogue.
Favorite Joke: Why does a squirrel swim on it's back? To keep it's nuts dry.
Dislikes: Douches, heroin, hobos, booze, heterosexual porn. Being like less than foot tall.

squirrel4.jpg


YMCA​

Mr. Nuts made his way down the street, when he heard the unmistakable sound of The Douche sobbing. He ran as fast as he could to the noise but The Douche was gone. Mr. Nuts turned his attention to the liquor store, he walked in, the smell of blood filling his noise.
'Oh my God, I have seen some screwed up things in this job... but this' Mr. Nuts vomited on the counter already covered in vomit, yeah The Douche was fudged up alright. He walked into the street and saw a little girl, he walked over to her. He realised she was probably traumatised by the events in the liquor store, then he saw the liquor in her hand.
'You, small child, have you seen a giant literal Douche anywhere?'
 
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Scharu watched through the window as the giant douche brutally ended the life of the man behind the counter using only a pencil and his vomit and tears. Strangely, this wasn't the first time she'd seen this happen. Even that fact didn't bother her though.

The Douche stumbled out of the store and started running in the opposite direction. Just as she was about to follow him she heard an annoying little squeaky voice from behind her. She turned, then upon seeing no one in front of her, looked down. It was a squirrel...dressed in a suit and a hat. This wasn't the first time she had beheld this sight either. Again, that such things were common occurrences in her life didn't bother her in the least.
'You, small child, have you seen a giant literal Douche anywhere?'
Slightly intoxicated from the booze the now deceased store owner had sold her, and also being a great lover of violence and shit like that, she answered, "Well, I'd say you, but it's quite plain that you are in fact far too small to be called a GIANT anything, even if it is just referring to your level of douchery or what have you rather than literal size."

The squirrel seemed unamused. She paused for a moment, then said, "Fuсk off." Scharu gripped the the neck of the bottle tightly and than swung it down upon the head of the furry critter. The glass smashed as it came into contact with the pavement, covering the squirrel in alcohol. He had fallen to the ground. Scharu was unsure whether the puddle around his head was blood or booze, and truthfully she gave not a fuck, so she turned to follow after The Douche, simply stating, "Meh, it tasted like ass gravy anyways." And with that she flew off after the giant vaginal cleansing...thing.
 
'You got my shit then dude?' The Douche said to his dealer, he was getting twitchy with his pencil now.
'Look, you still need to pay for last time, and the time before that! I'm cutting you off' His dealer said flicking his cigarette away, he looked at The Douche like he was a used douche.
'Come on dude, I-I lost my wallet, I just need a little ya'know. Just need the pain to go away for a little while'.
'No dice The Douche'
'Please I'm begging, just a taste!'. The dealer sighed, shaking his head, then he looked both ways.
'Alright, alright, but this is the last time I'm cutting you any slack and your paying me back for this time and the last; got it?' he said.
'Thanks man, I know, I will, just need to get away for a while'
'Considered Hawaii?'
'Not that you fu-! You wonderful man youz'
The dealer handed The Douche what he wanted and then he was gone. The Douche couldn't wait, he slumped in the alleyway he had made his "deal" in, he took a swig of vodkas before tying a shoe lace he found on the floor around his arm. And sure enough withdrawal was gone. You should give him credit for this it isn't easy to this this while sobbing.

YMCA​

'What the fuck' Mr. Nuts said standing up, he found the girl to be gone, 'that little bitch just cost be valuable time in which I could have been finding The Douche!' Then he remembered The Douche's sobs, they were very particular sobs, his heroin habit. He opened his brief case and got out the files, he would have to find The Douche's dealer.

The dealer was walking down the street, thinking about what a smuck The Douche was, when a voice said from behind him.
'You know The Douche?'
'Nah ma-' the dealer turned to see he was talking to a ****ing squirrel 'Nah man, what's it to you?'. He saw glint in the squirrel's eye, it got out a gun. 'Jesus man! Please don't do anything stupid, I got a wife, well she's more of a hooker; but still!'.
'Look I don't give a fuck if you're a heroin dealer or what, all I want is The Douche, you give him to me and you're free to go. If not - well I think you get the idea' Mr. Nuts gestured to his gun and just like that he had a tab on The Douche.
 
Soon Scharu came across The Douche, half-conscious in an alleyway, a shoelace tied around one arm, a bottle of vodka in his hand, and in the other a used needle.
"Jesusfuсk." She walked over to him slowly. How could she check if he was awake? Of course. She punched him in the face. "The fuсk are you?"

He didn't respond. She looked from side to side. No one was around. She punched him again. And again. Then she kicked him in the face. Then the nuts. If he had nuts. She wondered. She disappeared for a moment, then returned with a baseball bat. She proceeded to smash his face in with it.
It was fun!
 
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