Post by mh on Oct 20, 2013 9:38:55 GMT -6
"btw, quit a calling me kenny, amber, "says buddy. "it's me, buddy!"
amber: oh, sorry boddie. you two creep me out equally, it's a little confusing.
buddie: apology excepted!
ambera: ewwwww. the phantom sure can puke. taffy & SanDeE* have nothing on this guy!
as the phantom, feeling better, comes out from behind the dumpster, a few yards away falafel lad who has slightly regained his composure and remembered his superpower, reaches into his thermal fanny pack with a oven mitt, pulls out a steaming hot falafel and throws it in the phantom's general direction.
"what the hell?!" exclaims the phantom as the sizzling entree of justice zooms past his head. f-lad throws a second, this one striking the phantom in the shirt front, sliding down beneath his trench-coat and into his pants.
"hey, my shirt! dammit it's ruined! ..... GHHHHHHHAAAA!!!!"
his 'special place' suddenly searing with indescribable pain, the phantom runs at f-lad screaming. f-lad cries out in fright, and runs off in the general direction of the 'falafel hut'. amber and buddy have been watching the scene from a safe distance.
amber: c'mon bodine, we'd better follow!
buddy: buddy!
meanwhile mh, and babu who had joined mh & mel for 'high tea', had begun to try and pick up falafel lad's trail.
babu: damn, mh. i hope you didn't get that kid killed. and no more nominating members by yerself! it takes a full consensus of the group, plus months of rigorous training. this could be another of your famous fiascos. remember mammary glands girl?
mh: no fair bringing up m-glands girl! anyway, the kid'll be fine. i gave him a sock fulla pennies. where'd you think mel gets those tea cookies? they're exquisite.
babu: the same place he got the tea set, the tea, the vhs of troy and beverly crusher doing the squats, and all his other crap -- the dollar shack. where the hell is that place? i'm not drinking from that tea set anymore! the inside of my mouth still tastes like nichol
amber: oh, sorry boddie. you two creep me out equally, it's a little confusing.
buddie: apology excepted!
ambera: ewwwww. the phantom sure can puke. taffy & SanDeE* have nothing on this guy!
as the phantom, feeling better, comes out from behind the dumpster, a few yards away falafel lad who has slightly regained his composure and remembered his superpower, reaches into his thermal fanny pack with a oven mitt, pulls out a steaming hot falafel and throws it in the phantom's general direction.
"what the hell?!" exclaims the phantom as the sizzling entree of justice zooms past his head. f-lad throws a second, this one striking the phantom in the shirt front, sliding down beneath his trench-coat and into his pants.
"hey, my shirt! dammit it's ruined! ..... GHHHHHHHAAAA!!!!"
his 'special place' suddenly searing with indescribable pain, the phantom runs at f-lad screaming. f-lad cries out in fright, and runs off in the general direction of the 'falafel hut'. amber and buddy have been watching the scene from a safe distance.
amber: c'mon bodine, we'd better follow!
buddy: buddy!
meanwhile mh, and babu who had joined mh & mel for 'high tea', had begun to try and pick up falafel lad's trail.
babu: damn, mh. i hope you didn't get that kid killed. and no more nominating members by yerself! it takes a full consensus of the group, plus months of rigorous training. this could be another of your famous fiascos. remember mammary glands girl?
mh: no fair bringing up m-glands girl! anyway, the kid'll be fine. i gave him a sock fulla pennies. where'd you think mel gets those tea cookies? they're exquisite.
babu: the same place he got the tea set, the tea, the vhs of troy and beverly crusher doing the squats, and all his other crap -- the dollar shack. where the hell is that place? i'm not drinking from that tea set anymore! the inside of my mouth still tastes like nichol
