Post by RoOsh on Jan 30, 2008 2:09:00 GMT -5
***Thanks CAIS. I don't wanna triple post, and I'm a bit giddy after writing all this up ***
*Whoops, accidentally PMed this to myself rather than posted it. Thank god I saw that*
i suppose this is to be my Big Defensive post huh? Well If I'm gonna have to make one, I'm gonna do it my way- long and convoluted, so you gotta deal with it (after all I've actually spent a few Days on this). No one said this wasn't gonna be interactive OR Easy. So here goes:
RE: The Answer to Why Is Roosh so Sloppy?1 OR Roosh just doesn't wanna get Vigged at Night. OR He just likes saying 'Wang'
1. Because he just is.
Not one of my finer games certainly, ah well, to find scum you need bait. But yeah. I was sloppy.
And now for something totally different- A VERY repetitive story to annoy and enlighten (ooh, how very zen!):
One Day the Angry Lynch Mob rounded up a good majority of the people, and decided they were going to lynch the man who lived at the end of Roosh's Hill. So they collected up the usual torches, pitchforks, and other assorted sundries of farming appliances that could be useful in hoisting up a fellow human being, and then they marched up the hill in a very angry fashion and banged on the man's door.
The following takes place between the hours of 1300 hours and 1400 hours:
The bewildered man stared at the sudden appearance of an angry lynch mob at his doorsteps, with a surprised look on his face. He closed the door, and sighed, he could still hear them outside. And they didn't seem to be leaving. The man waited a few more minutes just to be safe.
Once it seemed for sure that they were DEFINITELY not leaving, he sighed once more. And then swung open the door forcefully, startling the crowd, which had just recently been debating with itself the effectiveness of a 3 pronged pitch fork versus the more symmetrical four pronged pitchfork in hoisting up bales of hay, poking living objects, and whatever a 3rd use of pitchforks may be.
" Oh, oh hello there, everybody! I didn't expect to have company so early, but it's good to see you all. It's been so long since I've visited the rest of you in the village. Please, please, do come inside my house, I've got some nice tea on the fire!" quickly blurted out the Man, nervously looking over the crowd.
The crowd stared at the hubris of this figure in front of them, rocking on his heels. The man was wearing large shaded glasses with a large prosthetic nose attached, and around his neck, he wore, tied with a red string, an obviously fake white beard that went to his knees. This was obviously a man with something to hide or at least one with a displaced sense of humor.
The crowd looked at one another, shrugs, and enters this odd man's domicile.
"Wait... old man.... Who. Are. You?" cried a Shatner-esque voice from the crowd.
"Who am I? Who AM I? Why! I'll tell you who I am!
I am Wang Chung the anachronistic Townie! I am a pheasant, and I have many skills! In fact I'm quite skilled in making many cups of tea, and I like to compose breezy synth-pop songs in my spare time, I like randomly capitalizing words and having atrocious grammar, but perhaps most importantly, I am a Master Debator! My oratory skills are praised far and wide and- Wait A Second!" screeched the man known as Wang Chung.
"YOU! You brought those foul things into my house! HOW DARE YOU! Your... Your Shoes! How dare you wear your shoes in my house! If there's no thing I will not tolerate, it is SHOES! I HATE SHOES! You will not bring your filthy shoes in my household! I am just Wang Chung, the Master Debator, and I will tolerate you all trying to lynch me, but if there's one thing I hate, it is the Shoes! You two get out of my house with your filthy shoes!"
The Mob looked around in confusion, and then noticed they were suddenly less 2 members. It would only strike Wang Chung and the rest of the town later- that, in retrospect, a lot of trouble would have been saved if anyone had actually SEEN who left. However, no one saw who those two people were, not even Wang Chung, the footwear-hating Towns' member, and thusly the Mafia Game would continue onward for them all.
Wang Chung, the breezy synth-pop composer spoke again: "Now then, would anyone like some tea? No? How about a story then? I do love to tell stories. Here's a delightful little tale right now:
'Just take a look outside my window, do you see the village below? Every morning, I like to wake up and just sit here and look down at the village below. Over there, you can see where that strange new fellow that moved in, that's where he lives. I think his name is Moe? Or was it Meow? I like to call him 'Mr. LolKatz'. Oh well, it's something like that, he's a too serious man, never waving when I wave at him. Always just saluting me in the mornings.
Ah, and look over on that side of the town, that big fancy house- why that's where the good man, Zuo Ci lives. He's always very kindly, and when I wave out my window he's always there to wave back. Such a good gentle soul.
Ah, and here in the middle of the town, that's the doctor's apartments, where all those good folks that help out each other live. I always see them every morning going about their business.
But the odd thing is.... Well, it's most unusual. Only four of the houses will have fires at night, and the milkman only visits four of these houses as well! Most puzzling indeeeed.
If only we had... oh I don't know... perhaps vacationing at one of our beautiful temple locations, a group of nerdy Office workers whose only goal were to solve the murder of their own kin by solving oddly phrased word puzzles here to help us figure out this doozy of a tale! Alas, I don't think that'll happen for another 1000 years! Or is it 1500 years? Hell, does anyone know what year we're in? Oh well, I digress. Oh yeah. The End.'
Well. That's the end of my story, for you all. Hope that helps you in your quest to rid this town of all those nasty scums! Now would you please get out, and try to find the real scum?"
The Crowd mumbled and grumbled with a slew of voices:
"Wait. What the hell was that crap?"
"That's not a Tale! Where's the Moral?"
" I dunno, it had a good beat, and you could dance to it."
"Use the Tetra-Pronger, it'll hurt more!"
The old man sighed yet again, and spoke:
"You people are useless, ya know? Fine. I'll sum it up for you.
Once again. I am Wang Chung, the Crazy Old Man. So what if the story didn't make sense, I just said I liked telling stories, I didn't say I told GOOD ones. But yes. I am a Master Debator, and I like telling stories and making Tea! Why I don't have any powers to imply about. I certainly am not implying I have any abilities at all. Let me say that again for all the G[M]ods above: I HAVE NO POWERS. I HAVE NO ABILITIES OR NIGHT ACTIONS. I just like Tea, talking, and telling stories. But I have NO POWERS. Why I don't even know If I'm the only Wang Chung in here. Maybe there are more (but they certainly don't hate shoes as much as I do). It is in NO WAY A UNIQUE NAME. It is only my birth name. Just call me Wang, Chung tonight. Maybe tomorrow I will have a different name? I don't know. All i know is I hate Shoes. Damn Shoes. Why do I hate shoes? I don't know, maybe I wasn't love enough as a child. Or maybe I know that my descendants will be forced to make them at abysmal wages. All I know is that currently My name is Wang Chung, and no one hates Shoes as much as Me. Thus ends my clarifying rant to the Kindly G[M]ods above- After all, we all know that the mystical elements would totally take away any powers I had if I WERE to have any powers, or unique abilities, or unique name.
Not that I have any of those, or am implying that I have any of those.
I just happen to be... well researched on the topics of names and claims... to property.
Why in fact if one of you Townies were to call me by another name, I could not and would not claim that name explicitly or implicitly. Because i am just Wang Chung The totally non-unique named guy... that really really hates footwear. Let's change the subject shall we? Did I mention I hate Shoes! I probably hate Shoes the MOST out of anyone in this whole town actually probably! That's how much I hate them- it causes me to be repetitive with adverbs!
And if i see anyone of you with a Shoe, then by god, I swear I'll lynch you on the spot with my OWN trusty pitchfork, because your hatred of converse, sandals, nikes, uggs, whatever they may be are lackluster in comparison with my own hatred of them. And my pitchfork's got FIVE Prongs."
"So wait... You're saying you're actually-"
"I"m just Wang Chung, dammit! The totally non-unique guy. If you were to think I'm someone else, well it certainly wouldn't be because of anything i've said. So just call me Wang the totally normal dude. I will NOT respond to any other names, because to think that I have any other names would be preposterous!" said the man, fingering his beard nervously.
"There are all sorts of unsavory types around here, and as far as I'm concerned, I'm just Wang Chung- mild mannered composer, I just want Everybody to have Fun tonight! That's all! I'm nothing more than Wang Chung.
Just remember what I told you though, and maybe you'll understand. Good luck, Town! I'll help you the best I can with my wild Master Debating skills, but lord knows I'm already target enough already, and I probably won't live much longer, but at least my defense is out there! I can only hope though that we can pull through this. I cannot tell you any more, for I have already said w-a-a-a-y too much. But there will be NO ONE else in this town who would claim to hate footwear as much as I do. No one.
That is why I am Wang Chung the townie with an unnatural love of homophones.
And now can we PLEASE move on from me, and try to find the REAL Scum?
The End.
*Whoops, accidentally PMed this to myself rather than posted it. Thank god I saw that*
i suppose this is to be my Big Defensive post huh? Well If I'm gonna have to make one, I'm gonna do it my way- long and convoluted, so you gotta deal with it (after all I've actually spent a few Days on this). No one said this wasn't gonna be interactive OR Easy. So here goes:
RE: The Answer to Why Is Roosh so Sloppy?1 OR Roosh just doesn't wanna get Vigged at Night. OR He just likes saying 'Wang'
1. Because he just is.
Not one of my finer games certainly, ah well, to find scum you need bait. But yeah. I was sloppy.
And now for something totally different- A VERY repetitive story to annoy and enlighten (ooh, how very zen!):
One Day the Angry Lynch Mob rounded up a good majority of the people, and decided they were going to lynch the man who lived at the end of Roosh's Hill. So they collected up the usual torches, pitchforks, and other assorted sundries of farming appliances that could be useful in hoisting up a fellow human being, and then they marched up the hill in a very angry fashion and banged on the man's door.
The following takes place between the hours of 1300 hours and 1400 hours:
The bewildered man stared at the sudden appearance of an angry lynch mob at his doorsteps, with a surprised look on his face. He closed the door, and sighed, he could still hear them outside. And they didn't seem to be leaving. The man waited a few more minutes just to be safe.
Once it seemed for sure that they were DEFINITELY not leaving, he sighed once more. And then swung open the door forcefully, startling the crowd, which had just recently been debating with itself the effectiveness of a 3 pronged pitch fork versus the more symmetrical four pronged pitchfork in hoisting up bales of hay, poking living objects, and whatever a 3rd use of pitchforks may be.
" Oh, oh hello there, everybody! I didn't expect to have company so early, but it's good to see you all. It's been so long since I've visited the rest of you in the village. Please, please, do come inside my house, I've got some nice tea on the fire!" quickly blurted out the Man, nervously looking over the crowd.
The crowd stared at the hubris of this figure in front of them, rocking on his heels. The man was wearing large shaded glasses with a large prosthetic nose attached, and around his neck, he wore, tied with a red string, an obviously fake white beard that went to his knees. This was obviously a man with something to hide or at least one with a displaced sense of humor.
The crowd looked at one another, shrugs, and enters this odd man's domicile.
"Wait... old man.... Who. Are. You?" cried a Shatner-esque voice from the crowd.
"Who am I? Who AM I? Why! I'll tell you who I am!
I am Wang Chung the anachronistic Townie! I am a pheasant, and I have many skills! In fact I'm quite skilled in making many cups of tea, and I like to compose breezy synth-pop songs in my spare time, I like randomly capitalizing words and having atrocious grammar, but perhaps most importantly, I am a Master Debator! My oratory skills are praised far and wide and- Wait A Second!" screeched the man known as Wang Chung.
"YOU! You brought those foul things into my house! HOW DARE YOU! Your... Your Shoes! How dare you wear your shoes in my house! If there's no thing I will not tolerate, it is SHOES! I HATE SHOES! You will not bring your filthy shoes in my household! I am just Wang Chung, the Master Debator, and I will tolerate you all trying to lynch me, but if there's one thing I hate, it is the Shoes! You two get out of my house with your filthy shoes!"
The Mob looked around in confusion, and then noticed they were suddenly less 2 members. It would only strike Wang Chung and the rest of the town later- that, in retrospect, a lot of trouble would have been saved if anyone had actually SEEN who left. However, no one saw who those two people were, not even Wang Chung, the footwear-hating Towns' member, and thusly the Mafia Game would continue onward for them all.
Wang Chung, the breezy synth-pop composer spoke again: "Now then, would anyone like some tea? No? How about a story then? I do love to tell stories. Here's a delightful little tale right now:
'Just take a look outside my window, do you see the village below? Every morning, I like to wake up and just sit here and look down at the village below. Over there, you can see where that strange new fellow that moved in, that's where he lives. I think his name is Moe? Or was it Meow? I like to call him 'Mr. LolKatz'. Oh well, it's something like that, he's a too serious man, never waving when I wave at him. Always just saluting me in the mornings.
Ah, and look over on that side of the town, that big fancy house- why that's where the good man, Zuo Ci lives. He's always very kindly, and when I wave out my window he's always there to wave back. Such a good gentle soul.
Ah, and here in the middle of the town, that's the doctor's apartments, where all those good folks that help out each other live. I always see them every morning going about their business.
But the odd thing is.... Well, it's most unusual. Only four of the houses will have fires at night, and the milkman only visits four of these houses as well! Most puzzling indeeeed.
If only we had... oh I don't know... perhaps vacationing at one of our beautiful temple locations, a group of nerdy Office workers whose only goal were to solve the murder of their own kin by solving oddly phrased word puzzles here to help us figure out this doozy of a tale! Alas, I don't think that'll happen for another 1000 years! Or is it 1500 years? Hell, does anyone know what year we're in? Oh well, I digress. Oh yeah. The End.'
Well. That's the end of my story, for you all. Hope that helps you in your quest to rid this town of all those nasty scums! Now would you please get out, and try to find the real scum?"
The Crowd mumbled and grumbled with a slew of voices:
"Wait. What the hell was that crap?"
"That's not a Tale! Where's the Moral?"
" I dunno, it had a good beat, and you could dance to it."
"Use the Tetra-Pronger, it'll hurt more!"
The old man sighed yet again, and spoke:
"You people are useless, ya know? Fine. I'll sum it up for you.
Once again. I am Wang Chung, the Crazy Old Man. So what if the story didn't make sense, I just said I liked telling stories, I didn't say I told GOOD ones. But yes. I am a Master Debator, and I like telling stories and making Tea! Why I don't have any powers to imply about. I certainly am not implying I have any abilities at all. Let me say that again for all the G[M]ods above: I HAVE NO POWERS. I HAVE NO ABILITIES OR NIGHT ACTIONS. I just like Tea, talking, and telling stories. But I have NO POWERS. Why I don't even know If I'm the only Wang Chung in here. Maybe there are more (but they certainly don't hate shoes as much as I do). It is in NO WAY A UNIQUE NAME. It is only my birth name. Just call me Wang, Chung tonight. Maybe tomorrow I will have a different name? I don't know. All i know is I hate Shoes. Damn Shoes. Why do I hate shoes? I don't know, maybe I wasn't love enough as a child. Or maybe I know that my descendants will be forced to make them at abysmal wages. All I know is that currently My name is Wang Chung, and no one hates Shoes as much as Me. Thus ends my clarifying rant to the Kindly G[M]ods above- After all, we all know that the mystical elements would totally take away any powers I had if I WERE to have any powers, or unique abilities, or unique name.
Not that I have any of those, or am implying that I have any of those.
I just happen to be... well researched on the topics of names and claims... to property.
Why in fact if one of you Townies were to call me by another name, I could not and would not claim that name explicitly or implicitly. Because i am just Wang Chung The totally non-unique named guy... that really really hates footwear. Let's change the subject shall we? Did I mention I hate Shoes! I probably hate Shoes the MOST out of anyone in this whole town actually probably! That's how much I hate them- it causes me to be repetitive with adverbs!
And if i see anyone of you with a Shoe, then by god, I swear I'll lynch you on the spot with my OWN trusty pitchfork, because your hatred of converse, sandals, nikes, uggs, whatever they may be are lackluster in comparison with my own hatred of them. And my pitchfork's got FIVE Prongs."
"So wait... You're saying you're actually-"
"I"m just Wang Chung, dammit! The totally non-unique guy. If you were to think I'm someone else, well it certainly wouldn't be because of anything i've said. So just call me Wang the totally normal dude. I will NOT respond to any other names, because to think that I have any other names would be preposterous!" said the man, fingering his beard nervously.
"There are all sorts of unsavory types around here, and as far as I'm concerned, I'm just Wang Chung- mild mannered composer, I just want Everybody to have Fun tonight! That's all! I'm nothing more than Wang Chung.
Just remember what I told you though, and maybe you'll understand. Good luck, Town! I'll help you the best I can with my wild Master Debating skills, but lord knows I'm already target enough already, and I probably won't live much longer, but at least my defense is out there! I can only hope though that we can pull through this. I cannot tell you any more, for I have already said w-a-a-a-y too much. But there will be NO ONE else in this town who would claim to hate footwear as much as I do. No one.
That is why I am Wang Chung the townie with an unnatural love of homophones.
And now can we PLEASE move on from me, and try to find the REAL Scum?
The End.