The Original Tale of the Egg Salad Sandwich Super Saga of Creation!

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The Original Tale of the Egg Salad Sandwich Super Saga of Creation!

Post by The Highlander on Sun Mar 22, 2009 9:34 pm

Once upon a time there was an egg salad sandwich that lived at the bottom of a well. One day he found a person who was hungry and tried to eat it but it was hard as a rock and chipped his tooth. he then Pulled out a jetpack and flew to the north pole but was drafted by Santa to work in his labor factory but heard of the Egg Salad Sandwich and rode a polar bear all the way to New York to see What it could see see see, but got hit by a giant army of turtles; there were lots of body everywhere but Chuck Norris came and stole a taco from a short fat kid who then blew up everything, then ate a Grande Quesadilla which caused him to vomit upon All the Freshmen in the land, who then got yelled at by Luke Skywalker who Flew right by the 3rd death star that blew up. Unfortunately it wasn’t payed off. so the emperor cursed Darth Vader who was eating his fresh BLT which tasted like an egg salad sandwich that was leading an army of magical raccoons that could shoot pixie dust from their behinds that were all named Squiggles, Larry, Jim… and the leader was Tim the magician who was working for The Closet Sniper! Who shot Hitler on his way to a Halo Wars Exhibition, but a lady had information and called the Gestapo and said something in Chinese which they misinterpreted as, “I slept with your mother last night.” They then angrily said, “Don’t make me go Katharine ghost ninja on you!” Then he goes Katharine ghost ninja on her over the phone and she turn's into a ghost ninja! Then goes after the closet sniper, who gets assassinated by A Sniper Penguin, who is then shot by Joe the Slasher, who stars in his own horror movie called ‘Joe the wimp’ favorite movie of Jimmy Hoffa, who then goes and tells Alalalh. He try's to buy a ticket to transformers but find it not showing anymore so he goes to kill a movie ticket clerk but Mysteriously disappears before he can, causing mass confusion with the Organization of Joe the Duran, friend of ‘save a wish the Watch Out Below!’ Who controls ‘;snjis;n’ which is a very evil person who destroyed the Deathstar: a deformed cat that loves to eat Worlds, especially ones inhabited by EGG SALAD SANDWICHS!! but the closet sniper became undead and got killed again by The Deathstars kittens that live at the bottom of the well in which this story started. Before we got to this point, where someone suffered a fatal heart attack while making a CGI of a giant robotic CHICKEN!!! but then a dog barked causing Thor-axes avatar to get messed up, so it looks just like his BK one stretched out giving eye strain to mark who learns to type with his big and pinky toe while eating a piece of fried EGG SALAD SANDWICH!!!!! Meanwhile, back in the bat cave Robin realized he was not a nocturnal bird, causing him to become extremely depressed and go jump off of a ladder made of dry spaghetti which smelled like an Egg Salad Sandwich! Which was eaten before he could jump by an Italian/Japanese plumber called Hans, who was switched at birth with a German named Haans who was shot by ME! The first Senior on this forum, who then shot a Rambo smilie who shot a squirrel which had just shot hedgehog, who was aiming a crossbow at a big fat man who looked like Alan with the shivers, who left school after he threw-up on Taylor the annoying freshman, who plays the kazoo so horribly that All the swallows in Texas die of dysentery while All the internet surfers, seeing Katherine's sig scream in terror and Run for the hills, including the closet sniper Who comes back to life because no story is good without him in it. (because if it didn't have him we wouldn’t have someone to kill for no reason) speaking of which he Trips and falls down a set of stairs because He was almost jumped by an ill tempered Mob of beasts, of the phylum… Suddenly, Mark pulls out his shotgun and Shoots a guy for saying there is no such thing as pony's *cough* Vincent *cough* but the earth was invaded by Free Bom Chicka Wow Wow!
Which then proceeded to dance like a 9yr old with autism while drinking An Eggnog Martini! Laced with American cheese that tasted like Patriotic Penguins in every tasty bite! So after eating that Penguiny cheese The Person previously mentioned sees a desolate room. He approaches, but suddenly something happened! Which caused this person to hibernate since The King from BK can smell your soul. So this person sees an old friend, and goes over to them because he smells food. But his friend turns out to be making over 1000 dollars an hour! So, our hero goes over and strikes a deal with Sony to make him his partner and kill the BK king, who thwarts another attempt on his life by hitting you with a mutant chicken segment. So, our hero's set out to kill the King, finding along the way the mysterious Eggsalad sandwich maker who gives him the power of a magical, internal Tom-tom GPS System! Armed with this new found knowledge, they set out to the most dangerous place on earth…
"There it is.." Our first hero says
"The Most Dangerous Place on Earth...”
"Detroit?" Our second hero pops up.
"No.. A magical fairy land."
"YAY!"
"but these aren’t normal fairies. these fairies Eat Cheese!"
Shocked by this startling statement, the heroes gulp, and enter the fairy land, unaware of the massive looming being behind them, preparing to stone them to death with a herring that smelled oddly of Cauliflower!! Our Hero's one weakness (aside, of course, from cat feces) upon noticing this foul stench Our Hero doubled over in pain, the herring swooping overhead, narrowly missing him. His companion, however was not so lucky. it struck him in the left temple causing him to implode into a mass looking a lot like Ronald McDonald so our hero continued on his epic quest alone, running and screaming like the little girl he emotionally was. Days later, bone-weary, he collapsed in a glade and fell asleep. Upon waking he found that his mommy was no longer there, and that this was not the toys section of the store. After a poor attempt at gathering his dignity he sought out the first VSC (Very Spooky Cave) available, and plunged headlong into the darkness. Upon entering the VSC, our hero discovers that it is not a Very Spooky Cave at all, but is instead a secret tunnel leading to the national Restrooms for the Secretary of random things of which no person would even care about but would find interesting, such a googolplex, fart machines, hollyhorks, lippity zipits, candy canes candy corn and other forms of candy food items not containing red food dye #6, jumpity flipsies, puppies, and unicorns.(that’s the full title. try writing that on your resume). Upon realization of his marvelous discovery, our hero found himself in dire need to use one of the sinks in the Secretary for RTWNPWECAWFISAGFMHLZCCCCOFCFI(NCRFD#6)JFPandU's restroom. Suddenly, he remembers the dreaded curse placed on that place, which stated: “all employees must wash hands before returning to work.” in fine print it said: "i am not your mother, clean your own mess!" of which it meant “see the notice above the toilet, which reads "If you sprinkle where you tinkle, clean it up. No, seriously guys, that just gross. Didn't you ever learn to pee like a man?". The Curse on the message forced our hero to clean the entire restroom using only plush puppies from the Secretary for RTWNPWECAWFISAGFMHLZCCCCOFCFI(NCRFD#6)JFPandU's office. Exhausted, he leaves the restroom and sees an extremely obese man headed his way (no doubt to use the facilities after a hearty meal from chili n such). Our hero immediately realizes all of his efforts have been rendered useless and suppresses a tear. He then runs away, eating an Egg Salad Sandwich while he runs. As he is distracted, he doesn't see where he is going, and he runs smack-dab into a quantum rift, transporting him to a distant galaxy where everything was made out of duct tape and people ate nothing but Egg Salad Sandwiches!
Of course, ignorant of local customs, he unpacks his lunch and pulls out a bottle of water, which is strangely similar to a weapon of mass destruction of the inhabitants of the duct tape world, so they use their tremendous combined psychic powers to blast our poor hero right back to his home planet. He ends up in midair three miles above some unidentified island with a bloody nose from the sudden change in pressure. As he hurtles to the earth, thing are looking grim for the hero, when all of a sudden A Shot Rang out, many miles below (3, actually). This shot was the last shot in a civil war among the workers of a 'Giant Air Mattress' Factory below. This shot hit the button that released their crown jewel, 'Big Bessie' a 20 acre wide and 2 acre high giant air mattress.
So, our hero, dreading an inevitable death, is spared this, landing with a dull 'thwack' in Big Bessie. When he came to again he found himself on a makeshift throne. The people that had seen him fall thought he must be the second coming of the great prophet Xeuwi'chan'xzer and were now looking at him expectantly, waiting for some great jewel of wisdom. Our befuddled Hero opens his mouth and says "THIS IS SPARTAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!" *kick* The prophet or rather, the hero who they thought was the prophet was honored beyond his wildest dreams. At the height of the celebration, the natives begin their ancient Coronation ritual called the Coronation ritual thingy(they weren't very original when it came to titles) which included a massive sacrifice of a thousand dragonflies in a bonfire while the people chanted the sixty-seventh verse of the Song Cycle of Vassillian. Our hero, tiring of the lengthy ballad and the smell of burning dragonflies, stood up and immediately a hush fell over the crowd, and a lull in the happy firefly throwing.
"How could this be?" they thought "The monarch isn't supposed to stand till the 68th verse!"
"Imposter!" Someone shouted and, with a howl of rage at the trick played on them, they went after our hero like Egg Salad on a Sandwich. The hero, realizing he had displeased his new-found worshipers, immediately, dropping everything, turned tail and fled. He ran longer than he thought possible, finally losing his pursuers with a clever distraction involving a shoelace and two egg salad sandwiches. Exhausted and cramping, our hero stumbled on to nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
All scenery, all descriptions, all witty insertions of Egg Salad Sandwiches, all gone.
Everything is gone, except a block.
On the block, is written the word "Writer's".
Puzzling at this, our hero thinks," this must be some test... God? Is that you? Am I supposed to return this to ‘Writer’?" Receiving no answer, he reaches out and touches the block, but as his fingers make contact, the nothingness explodes in a burst of color and the hero is dumbfounded. All around him, Is the most vividly described scenery he has ever beheld. To describe even what he could see through one half closed eye would take a novel longer than 'A Tale of Two Egg Salad Sandwiches'. With The Writer's Block burst, all limits disappeared with it…
Unfortunately, with the limits, fell the fourth wall, that held back the flood waters of imagination. With this down, any idiot could make use of this special gift for the select few. The waters surged out the opening and carried our hero straight out of the Forum ESSSSC Topic into the T100TTDWIBAEO Topic!!
"Whoa.., how'd I get here? And how do I get back to my topic?!?"
The floodwaters of the imagination's turbulent passage through the forum leave our hero stranded far from his topic. Lost, he begins to cry, and his tears of despair create another flood, a Flood of Lost Hope, which wash him right back to the ESSSSOC board, where he finds... The hero dies, before his thought is finished. A split second later, the flood waters deposit him in front of the goal of his quest, the Fountain of Life!!
Counteracting the effects of ADS( Asymptomatic Demise Syndrome, or Apocalyptic Despair Syndrome, depending on who you talk to), and a nasty case of SND (or Sadistic Narrator Disorder) Our hero stands, and shouts in a joyous voice “IM FULL!!!!!” he then proceeded to dance like a 9yr old w/ autism. After doing so he went to get a sword made out of Solid ice (magically kept at near absolute zero) to seek out the cause of his demise. Armed with sword, he strides off towards the nearest mountain (it was noon, so the sunset was unavailable). A few hours later, while passing through the Glade of Eternal Ramifications, our hero does something that will haunt him for the rest of his life. He fed a small squirrel. After depleting him of all his nut-like food items the squirrel viciously began to attack our hero. So naturally, he impaled the small creature. The ghost of said creature then proceeded to haunt our hero constantly searching for food. Out of aggravation, our hero Searches frantically for something to destroy his ghostly annoyance. Suddenly, his frantic search yields a piece of paper that reads: There is absolutely no way to rid yourself of this squirrel; it's called the Grove of Eternal Ramifications for a reason. Resigned to the thought of a hungry squirrel chattering at him for a loooong time, our hero walks down the mountain and into *BAM!* A sniper's area… apparently near a respawn zone, as this sniper is obviously a n00b camper. The Shot goes wild and hits, and kills the squirrel. Our hero immediately ducks for cover behind a convenient piece of cover, a dead elephant. Beside him, he sees a jagged rock, so he throws it randomly over the corpse to distract the sniper while he flees, but as chance would have it, the rock impales the sniper through the temple. His final twitch fires the sniper rifle one last time, which hits a monkey atop the elephant. He and just picked a booger and was about to take a taste. As monkey brains and guts and blood spew in the air our hero thinks to himself "Ain't it great to be crazy?" Suddenly, he stumbles, and follows down a deep, dark, underground well. As he lands with a splash, our hero frantically tries to find his way out but it is a treacle well, and he cannot find a way out. so he begins to learn to draw things that start with the letter M. after about an hour or so he realized he was bored so he starts to think about the nature of his predicament.
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Re: The Original Tale of the Egg Salad Sandwich Super Saga of Creation!

Post by The Highlander on Sun Mar 22, 2009 9:37 pm

He thinks "Well, here I am, stuck in a well left from a treacle mining job.. Wait! There is no such thing as Treacle mining!" Immediately, the well disappears, and he finds himself standing in a cathedral of Hate, with a gigantic statue of some monstrous being busy slaying all sorts of creatures with it's many appendages. Approaching him is a horrible nightmarish bat creature, with Wait a second... our hero thinks, This is from The Hitchhiker’s Guide, isn't it? With this realization, the cathedral disappears also, leaving the baffled hero back by the dead elephant. Determined to forge onward through his insanity, the hero goes to a library to figure out what psychotic disease he has but finds out he's in the evil library of Urba (there's a sign) and try's to escape but is jumped by a rabid pink pimp-jacket! Struggling for his very life, our hero slashes through the jacket with his razor bookmark he took from a "take one it's free" box, it slashes the jacket which instantly reforms into a Trenchcoat! Fighting the mad trenchcoater, our hero reaches into its pocket and pulls out the Holy hand grenade of Antioch! But King Arthur comes in to take it, after that God realizes he doesn't need a trench coat with attitude so he makes the rabid trenchcoat a plain turncoat but then, the Holy Hand grenade of Antioch explodes! And with it, it blows "Thine enemies to tiny bits, in Thy mercy." Thine enemies being King Arthur and the Trenchcoat. Decidedly shaken by all the absurdity, our Hero continues walking until he finds himself in a calm, tranquil garden with pretty trees and a small pool of water. He sits down beneath a tree and instantly falls asleep, lulled by the calming soundtrack music...
He slowly awakes some hours later, and realizes that while he had been sleeping, someone had stolen his pants! Our hero jumps to his feet clad only in a t-shirt and boxers, and sees that he, indeed, does have some twenty-first century boxers on.
"How curious," he thinks to himself, "I have no idea how something so anachronistic could end up on a Stereotypical-Medieval hero such as myself...
Then again, nothing's been making much sense lately..."
Just then, he spots the Trouser-Thief. Twas the small leprechaun that dwells behind the ice cream tub! Upon realization that he had been spotted, he immediately conjures an illusory rain of golden coins to distract our A.D.D. hero whilst he flees. When the coins disappear, our Hero is crushed, but something compels him to trudge on through the huge injustices and great abuse the universe seems to delight in inflicting upon him. The hero soon arrives at a small, simple town, a welcome and very familiar sight. Upon first entrance, ignoring the looks he receives for his nakedness, he finds himself suddenly between two men, the only two left visible in the town as the rest have gone into hiding. These two, one dressed in all white, and very heroic looking, and the other in a menacing black, appear to be about to duel. Upon, noticing our Hero, however, they both turn and say at the exact same time:" This town ain't big enough for the three of us..." Immediately, they simultaneously turn and flee from the embarrassingly bare hero, leaving the town with only one to deal with. Our hero, having barely restrained from wetting himself, enters the nearest clothier's. Upon finding our hero has no money, the proprietor asks him to leave, but our hero refuses. Desperate to be rid of the naked man, he digs up an old set of robes and tosses it over the counter with a muffled curse. Seconds later, our hero emerges, looking like a wizardly apprentice. Feeling hungry, he Gestures dramatically. Immediately an egg salad sandwich appears!
Amazed at this, and munching contently, our hero reflects on his lack of motorized (and lets not forget anachronistic!) transportation, while again gesturing dramatically. Once, again, there is a magical puff of smoke (along with a slight *poof*) and appears...
Another Egg Salad Sandwich.
After several trials, our hero realizes that the residual magic of the robes can only conjure... Egg Salad Sandwiches.
Noticing a tag on the sleeve of his new garments, our hero read:
"Property of the Sandwitch."
Gesturing Past the shattered fourth wall, our hero shakes his fist at the Author(s), shouting: 為什麼您必須如此折磨我?!
Shocked at the strange sounds emerging from his lips, our hero stops speaking and clutches his throat. He clears his throat nervously and tries to say something...
此中國人? 哎呀,為什麼可以我不講英語? 否! 否!!!!!!!!
The store proprietor, fed up with the strange foreigner's yelling, sneaks up with a baseball bat and smashes it down on the skull of our poor overtaxed hero. As he slumps to the ground, all of his worries are washed away as blissful unconsciousness envelops him.. Our hero awakes with a pain in his head. An enormous pain. It's as if a freight train wrecked in his cranium. It's as if, someone in the game 'Crackdown' hit him. It's as if the semi-sadistic authors of his life wanted to escalate a normal head-pain to almost-unbelievable proportions.
"What… happened?" He asks, to no one in particular.
"Hey! I can speak English instead of traditional Chinese! Oh, my head feels like, like... like too many metaphors for an uber-headache..."
He opens his eyes to see a beautiful border collie in a doctor’s coat leaning over him. As he notices her, she says, "It's a common symptom of RMLS, Random Multi-Lingual Syndrome. It's most often caused by Myauthors R-Evilous, which you apparently have pretty bad. I'd stay away from any anvils."
Bemused and slightly confused, and feeling both repetitive and redundant, our hero says,"I want out of this story" and looks around for a camera crew (then suddenly remembering he's in a internet forum's elongated story he forces himself to comply with the words of the forum gods) then suddenly has a memory lapse and look around and say's, "PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE MAN BEHIND THE WALL!!!!
THE CAKE IS A LIE!!!!!
REORG! REORG!!"
"Relax", his canine caretaker says soothingly.
"You're sick, but we can make you well again. Be calm. We can help you, we can save you."
Feeling much calmer, and safely behind a repairing fourth wall, our hero says, quieter "i would like my ice cream now."
POOF!
A bowl of egg salad sandwich flavored ice cream appears. The hero stare at it puzzled. He sniffs it, shrugs, starts to eat it and is surprised to find the ice cream quite scrumptious.
"Is there anything else we can get for you?," the canine asks.
Our hero stops to think. After a minute he replies, "I would like pants. And a shirt. These hospital robes are a bit drafty, and I'm confused by this hole above my butt."
"Oh, that's for the tails, don't worry. No other reason..." says the collie, grinning feebly.
Feeling only slightly reassured, our hero looks to the various IVs and sensors attached to his body. "You don't want to tear those out," says the collie helpfully. "They're tougher coming out than going in, and then we'll have to insert them again anyway. Not fun."
The hero slumps back down in his seat. "What's your name, anyway?" he asks resignedly. "Where am I this time?"
"You'll see", says the collie smugly and walks off.
"Well you are on the Neptunian colony on Saturn,Specifically in the third moon base of the Specrar company. You are a...?" and anonymous voice from behind said.
"Gah!" shouts our Hero as he spins around, almost tearing out his IVs. Behind him stands a huge shaggy Saint Bernard on its hind legs, calmly smiling at him. The dog's hair is greying and he wears a pair of old-fashioned spectacles on his snout.
"Who are you?" gasps the Hero. "How did you get behind my bed without me noticing?"
"There are some things mere mortals are not meant to know," says the Saint Bernard sagely. "And as to who I am, I am Bernard. My starship picked you up when it seemed like you were about to be beaten to death by an angry bat-wielding shop owner."
"Your starship? What is this, dogs with space ships, a hospital on Saturn... I must be in a coma, hallucinating I just need to wake up..."
"I certainly hope not," scoffs Bernard. "I would have hated to have needed to kill all my superiors to get this position only to cease to exist when you wake up. Anyway, the reason I am here is to ask you to..."
Bernard pauses, his gaze darting around the room. No one is listening.
"Do me a favor.."
"What kind of favor?" our hero queries.
"Oh, nothing much. It's mostly legal.
But you see, I'm in a rather sticky situation with a few of my colleagues, and..."
"What kind of favor?"
"Well, it's somewhat questionably legal, and the details are rather long and..."
"What kind of favor?"
Bernard sighs.
"Alright, I suppose you'd have to know eventually. I need you to...acquire an Item for me," Bernard whispers.
"Capital I, eh? Must be big," whispers the Hero. "Why am I whispering?"
"Oh, sorry. The walls are soundproof anyway, and I had the room swept for bugs. We can speak normally."
"OK. You still haven't said what you need me to... acquire for you."
"Well, it's actually here in this hospital right now. I just can't be seen anywhere near it."
"Yes, fine, what is it!" growls the Hero.
"It's... wait. I can't ask you to do this without even knowing your name. What is it?"
"My name?" asks the Hero. He opens his mouth, then closes it, confused. "Well... umm... my name..."
"Nevermind," Bernard snaps.
"What was I thinking? In this kind of business, names are a hindrance."
"Okaay.." says our hero, thinking that he might not want to be associated with this strange being.
"Alright," Bernard says," I need you to acquire..."
"A fresh bedpan?" Asks the Collie ministering to our hero, briskly walking in the door.
"No, I'm fine... uh." Our hero says, summoning all of his wit.
"This is, um... Bernard, a friend of mine." He says, gesturing towards Bernard...
Only Bernard has disappeared.
"Oh. I see," says the collie hesitantly. "I'm going to go get the Doctor... Ring if you need anything." With that she quickly sidles out the door.
"What were you thinking," rebukes Bernard, reappearing, " You know that if anyone sees me I'd have to kill them! Don't go throwing my name around like that! Now quick, before that nurse gets back, I need to tell you what I need. But first some backstory... Ten years ago..." Bernard begins.
"Oh, get to it! What do you want?!" growls the exasperated Hero.
"...Fine. It's an Ogre's sternum."
"...What?"
"It's solid gold and very big," huffed Bernard. "It would have made more sense with the backstory."
"How am I to get my hands on this... sternum?" queries our Hero.
"Talking to yourself?" comes a deep voice as a huge Rottweiler in a doctor's coat enters the room. "You're sicker than we thought. How are you feeling?"
"I'm screaming inside," assures the bug-eyed Hero. "You're a doctor?!"
"Yes. My name is Dr. Homer. My nurse tells me you're seeing people. How many claws am I holding up?" inquires Dr. Homer, holding up two clawed digits.
"Two," answers the Hero, scanning the room for Bernard, who has again vanished.
"Good. You seem fine to me. Now that you're awake, I have some questions..."
"Whoa whoa whoa, hold on a minute here," Interrupts our hero.
"I think I'm more entitled to questions here. Such as: Who are you? Why did you beam me up and bring me here? And how can dogs talk, for crying out loud?!"

Dr. Homer sighs, "Nurse, did you brief the patient on his situation like I asked?"

"Um, uh," the Collie says, blushing, "I was going to, Doctor, but I, um..."
"Save it. I guess I'll have to do some explaining. But afterwards, You will answer my questions, alright?" Dr. Homer growls.
Our hero nods meekly.
"Alright. Ten Years Ago...you died" Dr. Homer explained.
"WHAT!" our hero exclaims
"Just fooling with you. You were just fine, save the brain cancer," Dr. Homer continued, "Ten years ago all life was threatened by an evil cat Mrs. Tinklcins. Looking for a way to survive, the spies that we managed to plant as slaves informed us that she was no more that an animal rights/ evil scientist. So we turned ourselves into dogs hoping to be spared and turned back, the only problem was..."

"Dr. Homer," interrupted a different nurse, an enormous Irish Wolfhound, "You're need in the ER. We just retrieved the survivors of the wreck of the I.S.C. Divine, and we think there are some serious Neuro-dynamic damage done to them."
"Alright, alright," growled Dr. Homer, "I'll continue this later."
Dr. Homer stomps out of the room, followed by the Border Collie Nurse.
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Re: The Original Tale of the Egg Salad Sandwich Super Saga of Creation!

Post by The Highlander on Sun Mar 22, 2009 9:40 pm

"Poor Homer," Bernard says, reappearing. "So delusional."
"What do you mean delusional?" questions our hero, "From what he said, ya'll've had a pretty rough time of it."
"He was lying through his teeth!" Barked Bernard. "He was trying to get you to do something for him, which would end up futile anyway. He has no idea what the real situation is."
"Well, WHAT IS THE REAL FREAKIN' SITUATION?!"
"Calm down, and I'll tell you. It will take some time, though."
"Just get on with it," our hero growls, sliding back into a more comfortable position.
"Ten Years ago," began Bernard," Actually, it's some centuries in your time. Anyway, a certain time ago, Our race discovered your planet. The first inhabitants we encountered were a group you refer to as 'The Vikings'. We tried to help them as subtly as we can, yet we still managed to work our way into their mythology. I believe the most dramatic influence was their story of the CO on the ship we came in, one Commander Fenris..."
"Would you get on with it?!?" interjected our hero.
... Anyway, I digress. Shortly after we landed, we discovered unusually high levels of a unique type of radiation, in one section of the land with the misnomer Greenland. It was rumored to belong to an incredibly powerful powersource, one not seen in this Universe in many Star-ages. Coincidentally, it was most likely this radiation which drove the natives as Berserk as they had become, permanently changing personality genes in their DNA.
Anyway, it was while we were in the process of retrieving this powersource, when we were attacked by an amphibious pod of orcas, obviously mutated by the powersource, and drawn to it. During this attack, we had to tactically withdraw, as the orcas damaged our retrieval equipment, and we needed replacements.
After we had gotten back, it was that Dr. Homer that leaked our wondrous discovery to the Specrar Company, in whose hospital we sit."
"I thought you said it was in this hospital?!" Our hero exclaimed.
"So I thought. But I just popped over to the room nearest to its holding room, and I could not detect any of its radiation. In fact, I could only pick up the normal emissions of a hologram. It appears my associate, whom I sent to Earth to retrieve the object, was corrupt, or couldn't find it."
"Great.. so where is it?"
"Well, it's in an ancient Norse tomb, back in Greenland. You see, the impressionable Vikings mistook this powersource, after we unearthed it and fled, as the skeletal remains of a Giant Troll, as in their mythology. Eventually, the story evolved so that a hero slew this might beast, now changed to an Ogre, and ripped him asunder with such power as to scatter his remains throughout the Earth. It was then said that anyone to rejoin the remains of it, would control its power. Which, in a misdirected way, was what we were after. Only, it's nothing magical, or mythological, but an ancient and incredibly useful powersource."
"Yea right. Tell me about the evil Cat again." Sneers our hero. After a short pause, he queries, "Bernard, if you beamed me up, what stops you from retrieving this thing?"
"Ah... you see, lately, the ethnic group you label as 'The Russians' have built a military base directly over the tomb, on account of its radiation. Because of this, the agency you call the CIA is also sniffing around, pardon the expression, searching for whatever they can find. The Russians have called in some of your worlds top, ah, 'Archeologists' to excavate the Item (they have no chance), and the natives are incredibly indignant about the whole situation. Now, the Specrar Company as forced through the Intergalactic Congress, a law which states that "A non-native species may not, under any circumstance, make unapproved contact with a planet under Class II in evolution, or any so designated by the Congress." Especially in such a place where native activity is so high. Which means, I can't go get it. And that's.."
"Where I come in," sighs our Hero.
"So," Bernard asks, eagerly leaning forward," Will you help me?"
Our Hero, taking a deep breath replies,"On one condition."

"What's that?"

"I have been tossed around from place to place in space-time like a leaf in a hurricane for nearly a year now. The only food I've eaten has been egg salad sandwiches," bemoans the Hero. "All I want is to go back home, the place and time where I grew up, and retire. Maybe do a few heroic last deeds, yes, but what I really want is rest. I'll get your artifact, but the moment I get out of the Russian base, beam me up and send me home."

"That's fair enough. We get the artifact and you get peace. Now, we need to get you out of this hospital without alerting that imbecilic doctor... Hmm," he ponders. "No, there's no easy way to do this... security's too tight. Wait here, and don't move. Ignore any explosions you may hear." This said, Bernard disappears in a *zap* of blue light.

"Hey, wait, whu... oh, damn," mumbles the Hero. He settles back into his bed to wait. Before long, things start to happen.
First off, he hears a distant explosion, rocking the entire building, and feels a slight change in air pressure.
Dr. Homer runs past the door, shouting something about an airlock breach.
During all the frantic pandemonium, our Hero tries to quietly remove all the IVs and his other connections to the surrounding, now furiously blinking, machinery.
He finds that the nurses threat was rather empty, in that they all come out cleanly and easily. Almost as if they had no purpose....
"Hurry now," says Bernard. "It won't distract them for long. Here, take your pants."
Our Hero stumbles as he attempts to simultaneously put on pants, and follow Bernard.
They slip down the hall, through a rec. room, and eventually end up in a small hole-in-the-wall room, slightly larger than a closet.
"Alright," says Bernard, touching a device in his ear.
"Beam us up, McLeod."
Then, in a shimmer of blue, our hero finds himself on the bridge of a colossal spaceship that stretches out for kilometers in front of him through the viewport. As he looks around in awe, he notices striking similarities between this ship and the Star Destroyers from Star Wars.

"Before you ask," says Bernard, interrupting out Hero's train of thought, "Lucas got the idea from us, not the other way around. An unfortunate mistake with a poorly aimed teleporter many years ago brought George to our bridge instead of our scout team..."

"You've just ruined Star Wars for me, you know," says the Hero pathetically.

"You'll get over it. Anyway, we'll be making a small microjump to Terra in a few seconds. Look at the viewport... I never get tired of the view, myself..." A flashing icon above the viewport counts down the time in strange numerals until, with a loud beeping noise throughout the ship, the stars outside the viewport are replaced with a chaotic maelstrom of color. Our hero only has a split second to envoy the mesmeric pattern before it is gone and the bulk of Earth looms before him through the viewport. Once again all business, Bernard begins to speak, "Now, did you wonder how you understood us? No? Well, the doctors at the Specrar Hospital implanted a universal translator in your brain. You will understand all languages, including Russian, but they will not understand you. Be careful with this; If you pay attention, you can distinguish between someone speaking actual English and something that has just been translated for you. Now, we have here an electro-mesh suit that you can wear under your normal clothes. It should protect you from any harmful radiation. We've got a case of standard issue infiltrator gear here for you, too. Blueprints of the base are there, also. Any questions?"
"A couple. First off, you told someone named 'McLeod' to beam us up, but I don't see anyone here.."
"Oh,"says Bernard, "McLeod is our main technician. He's a Scottish Terrier, down in the teleportation control room."
"So...Scottie beamed us up..."
"Any last questions?" Bernard says, not hearing our Hero.
"Just one more: What will you be using this power source for, anyways?"

"Well, you know the Death Star from Lucas's Star Wars? You see, while he did get that idea from us, it was still in the design stages. We've never been able to build it because we can't build a stable power core of that size. This artifact should be able to do the trick, though."

"Wait a second; you're going to use this to make a Death Star?! Dude, I'm sorry, but I don't know if I want to help you with that..." says the Hero, taking a few steps back.

"Oh, don't be a fool. We're not going to use it anywhere near you. It'll be more of a fear weapon anyway. The threat of us using it will probably do the trick better than actually blowing up a planet," Bernard assures the Hero.

The Hero ponders for a few seconds, but his desire for a peaceful retirement overcomes his misgivings. "OK. I guess that's all. I'm ready to go down..." He's hardly finished speaking before there's a blinding flash of light and a powerful jerking sensation. When his vision clears, he finds himself in a clump of bushes looking at the imposing bulk of a gigantic fortress in what was presumably Greenland. "Well! I expected something a little less... large. And scary..." he mutters, scanning the area for any personnel Finally content he is not being observed, our Hero takes the time to don his elecromesh armor and a camouflage cloak he finds in the infiltrator kit. It shimmers for a second, and then takes on the color and pattern of the bushes around him. "Neat," whispers the Hero, admiring the cloak for a moment. Not distracted for long, he puts the backpack with the infiltrator kit on his back under the cloak and creeps out of the bushes. When he gets to the edge of the cover, he checks again for any watchers and then makes a mad dash for another clump of bushes closer to the fortress.

Once in the safety of the bushes, the Hero pulls out the blueprints from his backpack and examines them for any easy means of entry. He spots a tunnel leading away from the fortress to a point right outside the wall labeled "secret entrance". He compares the map to what he can see of the fortress, trying to get his bearings. After a few seconds, he finds to his surprise that he is sitting right on top of what is labeled as the exit for the tunnel. Putting the blueprint inside his bag, he looks around for anything resembling an entry point, finally spotting a metal rung under a large bush.

With a huge heave, the Hero opens the trap door that was hidden beneath a thin covering of dirt and leaves, revealing a dark stairwell descending into the bowels of the fortress. Taking a deep breath, our Hero begins the descent...

Our Hero finds himself in an old, disused Service-Tunnel/Sewer Pipe.
As he stands at the bottom of the ladder, taking stock of his surroundings, he feels behind him to see if he has any night-vision goggles...
Only, his pack has disappeared!!!
"Gah!" He shouts, in his mind, as he knows the importance of silence, "Where's my bag?!?" This last he whispers aloud.
"Oh, didn't I mention?" Bernard says. Our Hero Jumps, and looks around, but cannot see his employer anywhere. "You're suit," he continues, "Automatically assimilated all your equipment the moment you opened the bag. I'm talking to you through an earpiece tapped directly into your skull. That way, no one can over hear me."
"Oh", says our hero. "How does it work?"
"Press START to open the inventory menu..." begins Bernard
"What?!?"
"Oh, sorry. Just think about what you need."
"Alrighty then, let's try it out," Says our hero.
Night Vision Goggles, he thinks. Suddenly, with a soft *bewoop* a pair of night vision goggles slide down over his eyes. Armed with now accurate eyesight, our hero examines his surroundings anew.
Unfortunately, this particular section of tunnel has nothing to reveal to him; only blank stone walls extending off into the distance. Cautiously, our Hero skulks forward towards an intersection of tunnels he sees ahead.

Without warning, the voice of Bernard blares in his skull, "Watch out! Hostiles coming towards the intersection!"

"How can you tell," our Hero whispers fiercely as he dives into a small alcove.

"You've got a motion sensor! Keep an eye on your minimap," replies Bernard.

Minimap?, thinks the Hero. Suddenly, a circular map appears in the corner of his vision with a dot at the center. Two red dots are going across the top of the circle.

"There you go. Now, wait until they pass before you go forward. And pay attention; I can't keep contacting you like this."
Alrighty then. Let's find us a golden Ogre Sternum.
Now, let's see... I have to follow this disused tunnel into the main base (unseen), make my way to the excavation sight (unseen), get to the bottom (unseen), use the special personal-teleporter to get down through the ground to the tomb, find the sternum, and then get beamed up to a relaxing retirement in my own time and country. Let's get started!
After this thrilling internal monologue, our hero, with an eye on his minimap, heads down the tunnel.
As the tunnel stretches on and on, our Hero is stunned by the almost complete lack of security measures. You'd think they would be more protective of this hole in their defenses... he thought to himself as he stepped over a groove in the floor. Without warning, the hall is flooded with light and alarm klaxons begin blaring laud enough to hurt. As the hero hears alarmed shouts and doors opening ahead, he curses his carelessness.
"Curse my carelessness!" He shouts, trying to remember what items he had in his arsenal to help him. “That’s it!” he cries out in relief, thinking strongly EMP!
Immediately a small, round object with a blinking red button appears in his hand. As Guards rush down the hall, he closes his eyes, thinks Nightvision Goggles! and hits the button. Immediately the lights go out, and the alarms are silenced. He hears cries of alarm of the blinded guards ahead of him. Thinking quickly, he pulls out a gas grenade from his chest and an accompanying breath mask. Donning the breath mask, he chunks the grenade down the hall. The gas quickly spreads in the confined space. Pulling out another grenade, he runs forward through the collapsing guards and throwing this one further down the hall to take out the remaining red dots on his minimap.

All caution thrown to the wind, our Hero dashes full speed down the hallway, trusting the confusion in his wake to distract the guards long enough for him to get away from any subsequent pursuit. After a few turns through empty corridors, he soon finds himself in the hallway outside the Golden Sternum's safe.
Or, rather, the Giant Safe housing the Archeological Dig, several miles underneath which is the Ancient Viking Tomb housing the Golden Ogre Sternum.
Now, our hero thinks, How to get inside the Giant "Fort Knox-esque" door? Hmm.
"Ah! I have it," He whispers triumphantly, thinking C4...no too loud
I can teleport........
A crackling sound issues from the implanted communicator. "No, you can't. And stop whispering your thoughts out loud. I told you we wouldn't be able to help you so obviously after you'd infiltrated, and that personal teleporter you've got has a limited range and a preprogrammed destination," came Bernard's voice. "By the way, the signal quality is deteriorating as you get closer to the Artifact. Soon you'll be cut off completely"
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Re: The Original Tale of the Egg Salad Sandwich Super Saga of Creation!

Post by The Highlander on Sun Mar 22, 2009 9:40 pm

Great, thinks the hero, to himself this time. All right then... Oh $#!@ Our hero ducks quickly behind a bench as the sound of footsteps around the corner come to his ears. Just in time; his cloak adjusts to his hiding spot as the first person rounds the corner. It is a man in a labcoat, with some curious-looking devices arrayed around his belt. Following him are three more men in labcoats and four armed guards. They walk confidently up to the huge door, and the first scientist places his hand on a pad beside the door.

[Handprint confirmed,] buzzes the door. [Standby for voiceprint identification... begin.]
"Open."
[Voiceprint confirmed.] Several clanking sounds issue from the massive door, and it slowly slides open. The entire troop begins to parade in, but is held up when one of the men in labcoats stops.

"Crap," he says in Russian, which is rendered in perfect English to our hero by the Translator in his ear. "I left my case back in the room... I need to go get it." He runs back the other way, back around the corner.

The first scientist, apparently the leader, gives a grunt of disgust. "Keep going; he'll be back soon." He ushers the troupe forwards, disappearing around another corner and leaving the door wide open. Not willing to question his luck, our hero jumps from his hiding place and dashes through the door.
Hugging against a wall, changed from steel to solid rock, our hero, shadowing the scientists cautiously, observes an archeological dig site up ahead. Looking up, he sees that he is actually near the bottom of a broad pit, the dig being merely a more precise, and deeper, continuation of the dig.
The head scientist pulls what looks like a modified Geiger counter from his belt, which immediately begins to click.
"As you can see," he says, translated ," This is a here-to-for unknown type of radiation. Our top specialists estimate, from the energy we're picking up here, that a single ounce of the source would have the power of three nuclear factories working at peak capacity."
The other scientists made appropriate oohs and ahs of appreciation.
As they gathered round the edge of the pit, the head scientist gestures, and a dirt-covered, bespectacled, whiskered old man climbs out of the pit, glaring at the scientists. "This," says the head scientist, "is Mr. Agnarsson, the Head Archaeologist here." He gestures to a man standing with the bodyguards, a translator, to come forward. One of the scientists, looking at the archaeologist, asks, "How long do you think it will be until we reach this energy source?"
"How long do you think it will be until we reach this energy source?" repeats the translator, presumably in a different language.
"That depends how far down it is," Mr. Agnarsson replies, surlily.
"That depends how far down it is."
"Well, how far down do you think it is?" Asks another scientist, eagerly.
"Well, how far down do you think it is?"
"Hard to say," says the archaeologist, his jaws working up and down in thought, "I ain't no fancy scientist, so I'm just going to keep digging 'till we find something."
"We're not sure, but we'll keep working on it," the translation comes back.
"It's said," continues Mr. Agnarsson, before the scientist can reply, " that this is about where the tomb of a famous mythic beast was, of old. It's possible it's in there."
The translator struggles a bit, but manages to get the message across.
"Alright, " says the head scientist, "Come gentlemen, and I'll show you some work we're doing in the lab."
Here, the scientist with the briefcase runs up.
"Ah, Mr. Kozlov, we were just heading back to the lab. Would you care to join us?"
"If you don't mind," he replies breathlessly, "I'd like to ask Sir. Agnarsson some questions."
"Alright," shrugs the head scientist," Come, Gentlemen." Gesturing, he gathers up all but two body guards and the translator, and heads out the door.
Our hero clings to the wall as the troupe strides by, not even daring to breathe.

When they are safely out of sight, the Hero huddles down in a little cranny to ponder what to do next. They haven't reached the artifact yet, but they could come upon it at any time... Then it would doubtlessly be taken to a place much more well defended than even this imposing fortress...


I wonder what kind of weapons I have... thinks the Hero. Um... access inventory? he thinks cautiously. Immediately, a HUD appears superimposed over his vision. He mentally opens the section titled "Weapons", and is stunned by the impressive array available to him. Equip Tranquilizer Gun, he thinks authoritatively. The gun materializes in his hands, and he grins insanely, barely containing his hysterical laughter at the ridiculous situation. Still grinning, his hold on the reality of the situation slipping, he steps out of the tunnel and fires at Mr. Agnarsson, who was just beginning to climb back down into the pit. He drops with a startled grunt, falling the rest of the way into the pit with a sickly crunch. There are two other assistants in the room, who had apparently been working quietly at computer consoles. The Hero moves almost without though, dropping to a firing stance and firing two quick shots, dropping the two with superhuman accuracy and speed. The Hero didn't even wait to see the results of his attack; already he was accessing his inventory as he dropped down into the pit, using the unfortunate Mr. Agnarsson to break his fall. He puts away the Tranquilizer gun and draws out a scanner, which he quickly activates and aims down at the floor.

The screen occasionally flickers with static, but he quickly ascertains that the artifact is almost thirty feet below him. Putting away the scanner with a thought (he was getting good at that), he pulls out a laser cannon, fiddling with the controls a bit to set the beam for a very wide cone. Stepping back, he aims it at the ground and activates it. The wide beam strikes the ground, and the area is quickly filled with vaporized rock dust. Pausing only to bring out a breath mask, our hero sweeps the beam back and forth across the bottom of the dig, digging through almost ten feet of rock in mere seconds.

Pausing to survey his work, he climbs down into the new depression. The rock where the laser had done its work was melted and glassy beneath his feet, and as he watched, hairline cracks begin to appear. He has only a second to reflect on his folly; he had been digging straight down towards the artifact, which, he now postulated as the ground fell away beneath his feet, must have been in a large chamber or cavern.

A quick burst of mental arithmetic told him that he still had at least twenty feet to fall, and he closes his eyes in anticipation of a painful landing. Yet after no more than ten feet, he lands somewhat heavily on something hard and lumpy. Before he could gather his wits, he had rolled off to land another ten feet below on the less forgiving floor of the cavern. As he looks up to see what had broken his fall, our Hero's mouth drops open in stunned horror.

Bernard had lied.


Last edited by The Highlander on Sat May 30, 2009 9:32 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Re: The Original Tale of the Egg Salad Sandwich Super Saga of Creation!

Post by The Highlander on Sun Mar 22, 2009 9:41 pm

For standing before him, shaking it's gargantuan head in confusion from the hero's impact with it seconds before, is a huge ogre.
Fortunately, the ogre seemed rather intent on something, and our Hero had fallen behind it, so he had a moment to catch his breathe. A quick peek confirms his guess. The massive ogre was slowly feeding on the stunned and broken corpse of the unlucky Mr. Agnarsson, a grisly sight now. Shuddering in horror, our hero tries to contact Bernard, in a loud mental shout accompanied by a fiercely whispered audible.
" Bernard? What the Hell, man??! You said this was something resembling a Golden Ogre sternum, not a full grown, breathing ogre!"
After a second of delay, a static filled reply hisses in through his thoughts.
"Sorr...ld Chap...meant to.....you. It's the.....dian of the.... No idea he would.....be ....live. Lis.... carefully. Radiat... messes wit... sig...nal.Use your...x...k..c.d to kill it.... It's its on.... weak...ss. Goo... uck!" And, in a hiss of static, it goes silent.
Dang it!our Hero thinks.
Well. At least I have a few minutes (seconds?) before it notices me. Maybe I can find what Bernard (that traitor) was trying to tell me about. Access Inventory. Weapons, Accessories, Items. Now, let's see.... hmm....
Well I could use my Exterminating killer cannoned rifle. XKCD
It fits.
Our hero turns and shoots the ogre, straight on.
Then static fills his thoughts
"al...do...s..Beeeeeeeeeeeep....There can you hear me?"
"Well yea, but I don't need to TRAITOR!"
"How I told you the scans were wrong and not to use the Exterminating killer cannoned rifle"
"...What?"
"you didn't get that? Dang"
The Hero freaks out, but the ogre didn't even notice the blast. In fact, the hero reflects, nothing had happened when he pulled the trigger. He backs slowly away from the still feeding ogre as Bernards voice fills his head again.

"Now listen carefully," says Bernard. "We've redirected all of the power from the generator into the transmitter to get past the interference. Hopefully you can hear us, but we can't hear you; your transmitter is much too weak."

"Fancy that," mutters the Hero quietly. I had a few choice words I wanted to share...

"That stupidly named rifle you found was a joke by one of our engineers. It doesn't actually even work. Now, I've been searching the archives for information on guardian ogres, but it's been so long since we last encountered them, we don't have much. We know they're immune to lasers, projectiles, plasma weapons, and most blades. Only one type of blade can penetrate their skin, but the last know Guardian Sword was destroyed millennia ago... Nothing in your inventory could even scratch it,but the guardian ogre's were known to keep treasure hoards like your mythical dragons. Back when the guardian ogres were more common, adventurers would seek them out with their Guardian Swords and try to kill them. Despite the potency of the blades, many were killed. Your only chance is that the ogre killed one such adventurer and has the sword still... I'm truly sorry old chap, I had no idea things would turn out this way." Bernard sounded sincerely remorseful. "I have to stop the transmission... The transmitter is about to melt down and we need power for the life support... This is the last you'll hear from me until you're out from there... Good luck, old chap." The click as the transmission ended sounded almost regretful.

The Hero doesn't give himself time to think. He's been given a spark of hope and won't let it escape. His eyes dart around the chamber, looking for this fabled hoard. He spots a glimmer through an archway to his left, and he quickly sidles along the wall to the arch, being extremely careful to avoid making noise. Making sure the ogre is still preoccupied with his grisly feast, the Hero is worried to see that there is not much left of the unfortunate Mr. Agnarsson. Suppressing a shudder, the Hero darts through the door.

When his eyes adjust to the slightly dimmer chamber here, almost gasps, but remembers the hulking ogre just in time. Before him is a treasure hoard just as impressive as any dragon's, with piles of gold, gems, and other artifacts filling the chamber. He knows he has little time to admire this wealth, so he tears his eyes away from the glittering gold and searches more intently for a sword. He ghosts his way around the huge chamber, ever aware of the wet tearing sounds of the ogre's feeding behind him. Finally, after a full circuit of the room, he spots a hilt sticking out of one of the piles of treasure near the arch.

The Hero dashes over to the pile and places his hand on the hilt. To his horror, the gold around the blade shifts, and the Hero realizes that he cannot withdraw the sword without alerting the ogre. Looking around the room with growing desperation, the Hero hatches a desperate plan. With one hand, the Hero picks up a large silver urn lying on the ground beside the pile, still grasping the sword with the other. Gritting his teeth, he pulls the sword out of the pile.

The sword emerges with a quiet rasp, and the gold settles quietly into the freed space under the Hero's dumbfounded gaze. Well, that makes things easier, thinks the Hero. Still carrying the urn, and now the sword, the Hero makes his way to the arch, which had been the hardest part of his little scheme because of the distance. Once there, he hefts the urn in his hand, testing the weight. As he does so, he realizes with a shiver that the noise from the other chamber has ceased. As he listens, he hears heavy footfalls approaching the feeding chamber. Realizing he is out of time, the hero grits his teeth and heaves the urn as far across the chamber as he could. Which ended up to be just to the far side of the nearest pile of treasure. The footsteps falter, and the ogre gives a surprised grunt. They speed up, and the ground shakes as they reach the arch.

When the Ogre passes through the arch, the Hero lunges forward, swinging low to try and hamstring the beast. As he grips the sword tightly, it begins to hum quietly in his grasp. But even as he completes his swing, the ogre is turning. Apparently its field of vision was much wider than the Hero gave it credit for. The hero's crippling blow merely opens a deep gash in the calf of the beast, and the Hero turns his lunge into a roll to avoid the backhand of the enraged ogre. The Hero is already swinging as he comes up from the roll, scoring another deep gash in the forearm of the creature before it could draw back for another blow. The ogre bellows, but seems otherwise unfazed as it spins around faster than any creature that size has a right to. Caught off guard by the unexpected agility, the Hero only has time to lunge backwards, but even then, the ogre's huge fist catches a glancing blow to his arm and side, flinging the Hero back into the nearest pile of treasure. Luckily, the Hero lands at an angle, so the gold deadens his fall. He rolls to his feet, doing a quick mental inventory. Nothing broken this time, but he'd have to be more careful.

The ogre is already charging, so the Hero has no time for elaborate strategy. He watches the ogre's incoming fist and dodges to the side at the last possible instant, swinging the Guardian Blade at the arm with all his might. This time it is the ogre to be caught off guard as the blade cuts through muscle and bone, shearing almost all of the way through the arm. The beast's bellow of pain stuns the hero for a moment, and the ogre does it's impossibly fast spin again. The Hero tries to step into the blow to deaden the impact, but even so, he is once again flung across the room. This time, he lands dead on a pile of treasure and feels something snap in his chest. All of a sudden, each breath is breathing fire. He knows he has no time to lie there helplessly, so he rolls to his feet with a groan of pain. His groan is drowned out by the ogre's own pain-filled cry as it charged at him anew. This time, the Hero knows he can't dodge fast enough. As his doom approaches, the Hero sets his feet with a calmed detachment. He might be able to bring the beast down with him.

Time seems to slow as the beast swings with its remaining fist. The Hero drops straight down and brings his sword up in a vicious upwards stroke designed to spit the ogre in half at the groin, hoping against hope to avoid the huge armored feet of the charging creature. Unexpectedly, the ogre spreads its legs to slow its charge, but the scattered coins on the ground and its own blood on its feet do not allow this. The ogre continues forward at the same rate, but now its groin is perfectly exposed for the killing blow.

The heavy impact shivers the hero, but he was braced for the it. The ogre gave a short, almost human-like gasp of pain as the blade sheared easily through bone and muscle, tearing apart the vital organs in its belly. The powerful sword sliced right through the ogre, entering from the back and exiting right through the abdominal muscles of the beast. As the ogre passed over him, carried onwards by its own momentum, the Hero is doused in blood and other less pleasant bodily fluids. But the dreaded impact never came, the Hero passing perfectly under the ogre's spread legs.

With a heavy crash, the ogre falls to the ground behind the Hero. It moans quietly for a moment, then its breath leaves it in a final pained wheeze.


Last edited by The Highlander on Sat May 30, 2009 9:33 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Re: The Original Tale of the Egg Salad Sandwich Super Saga of Creation!

Post by The Highlander on Sun Mar 22, 2009 9:41 pm

"It's Down!" shouts Bernard to his crew, hundreds of miles above where the fateful battle took place. "Stations, everyone! We need to get out of here quick!"
"McLeod!" he barks into the ship-intercom.
"Aye sir?" Replies McLeod, sounding shaken and excited.
"Get the Transporter warmed up. I'll be there in two minutes, and I want to get dirtside and back before anything else happens!"
"Och aye, sir!"
Minutes later, Bernard is standing in the Tech. room, next to the Terrier Technician.
"Now, I'm going to go down there, grab our Hero, grab the Power Source, and I want you on an auto-beam up in 90 seconds, got that?" Bernard says, stepping into the transporter.
"I got that, Cap'n. 90 seconds, on the dot, you'll be back up 'ere."
"Excellent."
"Beaming down in 3, 2, 1..."


Our Hero lay, exhausted, a few feet away from the crumpled Body of his opponent.
After the battle, he had only had the energy to move a foot or two out of the puddle of blood and excrement before collapsing of exhaustion.
Then, in a faint shimmer of blue, through his eyes now misting over, appeared a familiar figure.
"Bernard," he says weakly, "You old traitor. Good to see you. I...have half a... mind to...to...."
"No time for that now. In a minute we'll get you into Medical. Now, where's the Ogre?"
Our Hero, befuddled with pain and exhaustion, shifts his head in the direction of the slain beast.
"Ah, good," remarks Bernard, disappearing into the adjoining chamber, "Just melt away the rot and... Ogres rot remarkably fast, you know. That's why their bodies are never documented, and most people treat them as Faerie tales. AH! There we go. Got it!"
Our Hero looks on weakly, as Bernard reappears in his field of vision, placing a type of round device around at even intervals on the cavern walls.
Noticing our Hero's questioning look, Bernard chuckles and says, "Can't let the natives find all this, now can we?"
Our Hero, about to reply, suddenly finds his vision suffused with a soft blue light, then all becomes black.
Editors Note: Here Ends Part I of Egg Salad Sandwich Super Saga of Creation.
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Re: The Original Tale of the Egg Salad Sandwich Super Saga of Creation!

Post by The Highlander on Sun Mar 22, 2009 9:42 pm

Epilogue:
Our hero awakens to find himself in a medical room, similar but different than the one he awakened in what seems so long ago.
"I wonder how long ago that really was..." he mumbled, nearly incoherently, to himself.
To his surprise, the reply comes, "It's only been three days and twelve hours, thereabouts. Glad to see you've come to."
Glancing around, our hero sees Bernard sitting by his bed.
"Bernard?" he says, weakly.
"That's right old boy. I've been constantly monitoring your recovery, to make sure you pulled through."
"You have? Wow. Wait. If you care about my well being so much, why didn't you say anything about the ogre??"
Bernard's smiling face suddenly turns sorrowful and serious.
"I'm terribly sorry, Old chap. We had no idea. It seems that our information agency got a bit mixed up. We thought the Ogre was just part of the Norse legend derived from our speculation in the area. I guess sometimes those old myths have more to them than you would think. But you pulled through splendidly, my boy! Imagine, taking down a ten-foot ogre! Incredible, especially in light of your species rather non-specialized nature. I would expect, say, a Krön-gaulite to put up a fair fight, but they've had a millennium to evolve solely fighting abilities. It was a fantastic fight, on all accounts! You know, if you're ever interested in another job..."
"Bernard," interrupts our hero, "you promised me that I would be returned from whence I came after this. I'm still holding you to that."
"Right, right, of course, of course," sighs Bernard, "We've taken the proper measures. With that new power source, we can easily power our new Battle Station, and activate a portal back to your time and place of origin. We'll be sure to stay in touch, though. Just in case you change your mind."
"I won't."
"Just in case," Bernard says, with a smile.
"But, that's a ways away. You still need time to recover. But, when you do go, you can take back any of that Ogre's horde you want. And, of course, your Guardian's Sword. As reward for services rendered."
"That's more like it," mumbles our hero. Then, turning a smile to Bernard, he says," I don't think I'm quite done adventuring. Maybe, back home, there's a dragon to slay, or a maiden or three to rescue. But, definitely not for a while."
"I completely understand," replies Bernard, with a similar, knowing smile, "In the meantime," he continues, reaching to a table behind him, and bringing forward a small tray, "Egg-Salad Sandwich?"

So Ends the Egg Salad Sandwich Super Saga of Creation, Part I.
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