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Old 03-12-2005, 05:47 AM   #245
The Perilous Poet
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Join Date: Apr 2002
Location: Heart of the matter
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The enemy then began a new and fearsome assault. Large, bright blue balls began bouncing from their ranks towards the Parodyship, whence they were fended off with stave and club. Upon contact with our heroes arsenal of weapons, they popped languidly, showering them with a mixture of home fertiliser and vinegar that was probably meant to be explosive, but was in fact rather a good salad dressing, and handy for use on compost.

The enemy moved forward smoothly, although with some minor pixellation, and a few jerky movements. The blue balls varied in size, bouncing almost comically towards them.

“This is too much,” said Hal. “We’ve stayed with the story because of the great history of REB and the humour and excitement of the first instalments. But this is just vapid, generated dross cooked up to satisfy the lowest common denominator.”

Yet no sooner had this fairly ridiculous little speech concluded, then more battles were upon them, complete with sweeping camera shots.

A huge red-faced warrior was upon Hal, and Orogarn Two stepped up to aid him. Their blades a blur so fast that they appeared to hum with some fierce power, they commenced a deadly dance, of skill, feint and counter-feint. Several others stopped their half-hearted slaughtering to watch. Operatic music soared above the scene as the combatants, um, combatasised,

It was breathtaking and dramatic. “Actually, this is quite good,” said Vogonwe.

“Doesn’t justify the stultified plot!” shouted Hal through the maelstrom of hacking and slashing. It did look good though, as they battled on a high ridge with the panorama of Valleyum spread beyond them.

“Watsa all theees?” asked a huge bouncy ally, bounding up to them with improbable ears. “I’msa Ha-Ha Sinks! I is here to…”

The enemy and the Parodyship ceased their battles and turned all their attention on the newcomer, who quicker than you could say, “when is a door not a door? When it’s ajar!” was pasted liberally on the ground (and stamped on). After giving each other nods and slapping their enemies on the back, battle resumed, if slightly more good-naturedly.

The battle swung this way and that, until Hal noticed that the enemy were magically regenerating out of huge skulls set in the cliff walls. “Get the generators!” he cried and Kuruharan threw throwing axe after throwing axe, while the others, wizards and archers and fighting women, protected him.

Thus was the gauntlet thrown down, and the battle raged among the over-described Itship and the truly opaque and casually explained forces of darkness.

Last edited by Rimbaud; 03-22-2005 at 04:22 AM.
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