1001 Kerobian Nights

Don’t even ask me why it’s taken so long to hit 1000 posts. If you ignore the moving to different forums, Great Deletions, and Electric Boogaloos, and whatnot, I probably have 3 times this number.

I figure I’d like to do something other than the bandwagoney “ask me questions” type thread, which seems to be going out of fashion anyway. So instead, since this is my 1001st post and not actually my 1000th, I’m going to make a storybook in the vein of 1001 Arabian Nights. Everyone who posts here must make up a short story. How short? I don’t care. The only requirement is that you base the story somewhat on something that’s happened RPGC (site, forums, chat, etc.) Please embellish all you like, and make it sound exotic.

For example, you could tell a tale of travellers going to some Eastern nation and harassing the hell out of the natives (#hmongtalk). :stuck_out_tongue:

edit; DT told me to edit this post so i did :frowning:

There was once a man named Orakio who thought he was great, always fighting the good fight against villains and building homes…but he was cocky, saying he could build homes in mere minutes instead of days like other. He boosted that his homes were the greatest and that anyone who didn’t live in them should live in the desert. Soon evil began to corrupted his soul. He tried making a fake persona to try to gather the people reponse, but they were tired of his whinning. So he then tried faking his death to make the people care for him…but they say through his lie. Soon aftewards he become a monster…the very things he was fighting. So he went out into the desert, where he has never been seen since.

OOC : This is a good idea Kero. And sorry for starting the 1000 post bandwagon. My actual 1000 post in that thread was really 1001, as I make a comment a few minutes earlier on accident. :smiley:

Once upon a time there was a castle.
And then there wasn’t!

True story. >>

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
And no one had a clue what he was doing there in the first place.

Sire, there was once upon a time a great Sultan of Persia, and he had a great palace with a great many viziers. The foremost of his viziers, however, was a devious man. Now after this Sultan died, he left his treasures to his many viziers, as he wanted them to rule in council because he had no son. The bulk of his power, however, he gave to this most devious vizier, whom he decided was a plain and honest man based on his actions in court.
Soon after the Sultan’s death, this vizier proclaimed himself the new Sultan, and there were many dissents among the subjects. “Hear me,” cried the new Sultan, “and know that I am aware of what is best for this kingdom.”
The subjects disagreed, but they still held the honoured name of the deceased Sultan in memory, and so did not rebel.
There was one man, the war-prince of the kingdom, who disagreed. “Come, my warriors,” said he. “What good is it living under this oppression of a man who does not value our opinions?”
Many agreed, so they met every month of the new moon, a time when it was said that Allah himself slept, and did not keep watch.
In their cabal they formulated plans, but they would not come to pass. The war-prince got increasing frustrated, and one night proclaimed, “Ah! It is not talk that will bring about change. I must go forth in search of a legendary treasure of enormous power hidden in the tomb of our old beloved Sultan.”
The other viziers opened their eyes in shock. “Not the fabled Dagger of Admin Access?”
“Yes,” replied the war-prince. “I am afraid nothing else may be done.”
Thus did all the viziers pool their resources to prepare the war-prince on his journey.
Now, the tomb of the old Sultan was in a labyrinth most elabourate and full of danger, in order to keep out those who would raid his place of resting for treasures. As the Sultan was humble, there were no piles of gold or diamonds in his tomb, but many books of knowledge, along with this Dagger of Admin Access.
The war-prince evaded the trappings of the tomb with great skill, and came upon the Dagger. He took it, and felt the power of it flow over him. “Why,” he exclaimed. “With this, I could be the new Sultan!”
But then, he remembered the words of his old friend and advisor, known for his eccentric advice and injuries from musical instruments. It was then that temptation was vanquished, and fled him in the form of a vaporous serpent.
Taking the Dagger, he went to the vizier, who had usurped the Sultan’s throne. The Sultan took his sword, and gave a mighty stroke in the direction of neck of the war-prince. “Your will pay for your insolence!” cried the Sultan. The war-prince, however, had long hair, and the Sultan could not tell where he was aiming, and so merely cut off the war-prince’s hair. “Your days of tyranny are over!” cried the war-prince, and thrust the dagger deep into the black heart of the vizier. The vizier gave a groan most terrible, and keeled over on his throne of gold.
“Now Rise, people of Persia,” said the war-prince, “and know your own power!” With that, he threw the Dagger of Admin Access into the city well, so that the Dagger was gone for ever. The power of the Dagger, however, seeped into the well, so that all who drank from it may have some of its power, but never all of it. It would be a greedy and foolish man indeed, who tried to drink the well dry for its power.
And thus was peace restored to Persia, and a council established for the fair rule of the city.
As for the war-prince, he never cut his hair again.

A long time ago, all the people gathered in one place, for the Lord had said “may all the people gather in one place”. Then people started making families, for the Lord had said “gow and multiply”. Then people started erecting a huge tower towards the sky, and the lord said “WTF!”. In order to keep the people from reaching the skies, God used subtlety and made it so that every soul would speak that no other understood. Due to this babling, the tower was called Tower of Babel (where Babel is a typo that was incorporated into the current common language).

But since people insisted on the erection of the tower, God ultimately got so pissed off he blasted it with meteors and holy lightning, effectively shutting the forum down.

Once upon a time there was a little boy named Tony who cries “And that’s precisely the reason this car is off limits to all passengers.”

The wolf didn’t eat him, but the winged woman in the domina outfit sure as heck gave him one hell of a violent death.

Once upon a time there was a sausage fest. A group of lonely men gathered around, late into the night, in a small apartment in the confines of Los Angeles; while eating pizza, they ran around in video games screaming variations of the “BIIIIIIIIIIIIIG”, much to the dismay of the neighbours, too afraid to risk finding out if the reality they pictured was the truth.

The end. (Because the storyteller was in dire need of his estrogen supply).

“One day, people realized that their posts in Qrrbrbirlbel weren’t funny in the least. It then dawned upon them that even if one posts in a forum designed for pointless posts, the least one can do is try to make said posts humourous or creative in some way. Alas, this was beyond them. They all died lonely deaths. None of them ever lost their virginity. The End.”

Ah… I missed that speech.

This is good stuff. Neat idea, Kero.