Shit. Well um... Im gonna fling needles filled with anesthesia at the would be rapists.

If you fail your roll and fling meth by mistake, I'm going to disassemble you, repurpose you as a planter, fill you with begonias and give you to my gramma. And yes, I can afford real begonias.

Alan is going to overcome the voice in his head calling out for him to just accept the sweet release of death and try to climb out of the shitwater.

Well, at least no one is going to rape the guy that just crawled out of the shit bath.

Probably

Well... never know with these guys

Player_4 > Press_Start

Username: Whizzaahd
Password: *********** [Buttplug69!]

Login successful!

Access_Profile

About Me: Hacker/Gamer Extraordinaire
Sex: Yes Pls
Age: 36
Location: Ma's Basement
Status: Waitin' on my gorram cupcake delivery.

Whizzaahd casually closes the window on another successful win at Terrorist Infiltration Team Six (TITS) , suddenly aware of his over-large stomach making a sound akin to the mating call of a Rancor in heat. Wondering what the hell is taking his cupcakes so frakking long, he decides to hack into the sleazy little bakery's rudimentary video surveillance system, anticipating seeing the baker standing around doing nothing, as usual.

Action: hack video surveillance system of Cuppin' My Cakes

If I can't get cupcakes, NO ONE GETS CUPCAKES

WHAT ELSE AM I GOING TO WASH DOWN WITH A 24-PACK OF MTN DEW!?!?!?!?

Justin, My Lord and Pagemaster Forever Amen, My Lord and Pagemaster Forever Amen springs into action, discarding his beer for a far more attractive vice- the magic of storycrafting.
"This is it!" He declared to no one in particular, a sparkle of renewed determination in his eyes, "This is the day I turn a new leaf and fully dedicate myself to my art."
Removing Tai from his computer chair, he leaned back against the soft worn leather and cracked his knuckles before getting to work.
To be continued..?

Fancy Feast wrote:

To be continued..?

I should hope so

As the ravenous lust-filled gang slowly approached, Ty attempted to mentally prepare his taught, puckered under-mouth to be brutally ultraraped. He also mentally released a swarm of nanobots into his bloodstream to counteract whatever nerve agent that damnable robot injected him with (6). Why was that drone even following them still? It certainly wasn't behaving typically. Ty felt the nanobots begin to work within his body, completely neutralizing the venom that had been locking his muscles. In their effort to eradicate the underlying problem, the overzealous nanites also accidentally eradicated Ty's ocular nerve connection. They quickly began to repair the damage, but Ty is temporarily visually impaired. Man, he really should have had that echo-location mod installed.

Ty resigns himself to blindness and the horrors ahead, and completely misses seeing Gerard actually do something useful. The little robot, panicking at how he keeps making things worse, prepares to fling some empty needles at the would-be rapers. At that moment, his neural cortex finally finishes syncing with the online database of all known bio-agents, and he actually feels smart for once. He quickly mixes up some anesthesia, knowing the recipe like a boss now, and fills his needle arsenal with the concoction.

"Nap time motherfuckers!" is what he would say if he could figure out the vocal output program, but he can't, so he just lets out a couple super-Khajiit sounding beeps and fires his needles, Tony Stark style. (6) The needles hit every gang member super hard, actually puncturing a few throats, eyes, and major arteries--blood spurts everywhere. A few needles go rogue though, and ricochet off the tunnel walls, heading straight for the blinded Ty and the slipper Alan.

Ty bends over to prepare for the rape he still believes is imminent, just in time to feel a needle whiz past his ear (4 to dodge), while Alan half-assedly attempts to climb out of the sticky pool of liquid regret (3), accidentally leaving his cargo pants in the clutches of the poopy abyss. He's still clambering back onto the walk when he sees the needle heading straight for his face. (5 to dodge) Somehow, without the cargo pants to weigh him down, he performs an wubba lubba dub dub acrobatic feat, launching himself fully out of pooptown, rebounding off the opposite wall, and backflipping to his feet right next to Ty's huddled frame. Well that all worked out nicely. Alan sees a ladder that probably leads to the hair salon directly ahead. To the group's left is a tunnel that leads to the Street Snakes' lair. The head of the gang's leader slowly rolls to stop at Alan's feet, somehow completely severed by hypodermic needle assault. The gang leader's tongue lolls out in an almost cartoonish fashion. Alan half expects there to be big black X's in place of the boy's eyes, but no, his eyes are there--well, mostly there; one of them is hanging out of the socket attached only by the nerve, and the other had been reduced to what looks like a raspberry version of Cream of Wheat.
----------------------------

MEANWHILE
Interior: dank maternal basement, pizza boxes and half-empty soda cans arranged in piles around the desk of a pudgy, malodorous man.

Whizzaahd becomes increasingly perturbed at the length of his cupcake delivery. He effortlessly (4) hacks into Cuppin' Your Cakes' security footage to find the feed cutoff. He traces it back to see a big hoopla involving some bloody kid and a man in a nice suit. The two go through a door and appear to descend some stairs, followed shortly by a medical drone right before a spark goes off in the kitchen and the feed cuts to static.

Curious, he thinks to himself, then hollers up the stairs without moving from his chair at his command station, spittle flying from his mouth, "Ma! Do we have any more ScaldingPockets!?"

Ty will consult his GPS for the quickest route to his extraction team.

Alan's going to nudge the gang leader's head into the poop water and then beg Gerard for some hand sanitizer or something.

Whizzaahd is going to internally debate whether he should actually go out to investigate the cupcake shop mishap, or just masturbate as usual.

I'm going to try and figure out how to make this new body speak

Everyone has such lovely signatures now.

Ryan, I'm not entirely sure which of those options would be from a success roll and which would be from a failure....

Also, it's a shame that you're getting rid of the gang leader's head; everyone knows that Street Snakes will bow down to anyone who kills their leader as their new leader. They're like those bullet time villains from Chronicles of Riddick. Obviously.

Alan is not in the business of ruling sewer tribes. He's got bigger mutated fish to fry, like replacing the fried cpu in Glinda (his persocom with 7 vibration speeds and five pulse settings aka his main reason for existence)

Hippopoctopus wrote:

Ryan, I'm not entirely sure which of those options would be from a success roll and which would be from a failure....

For the sake of the adventure, we'll say investigating is the success, just maybe not in Whizzaahd's opinion.

Qridproqro wrote:

Hippopoctopus wrote:

Ryan, I'm not entirely sure which of those options would be from a success roll and which would be from a failure....

For the sake of the adventure, we'll say investigating is the success, just maybe not in Whizzaahd's opinion.

If you critically fail, something terrible is going to happen to your wiener.

Hippopoctopus wrote:

Qridproqro wrote:

Hippopoctopus wrote:

Ryan, I'm not entirely sure which of those options would be from a success roll and which would be from a failure....

For the sake of the adventure, we'll say investigating is the success, just maybe not in Whizzaahd's opinion.

If you critically fail, something terrible is going to happen to your wiener.

You sound just like my mother.

Should I roll for us? We all pass magnificently.

Sorry, this is coming this afternoon when I get home from work. I've already rolled for this and wanted to post this for a while, but I've been so busy/ had no internet for the past few days. I don't think I was home for more than an hour even yesterday.
Shutup.
I don't need to explain myself to you.