The Tiger/Alpaca fight continues in the audience as mith comes back on stage.
mith:
Look, everyone, we've got to finish this show... if you could just all stop fighting for a few more...
They don't.
mith:
Fine. Whatever. Let's just present these awards and you can do whatever it is you're doing. It'll be great. farside?
farside22:
Thanks, mith. My fellow List Mod and I will be splitting the final awards of the evening, the "Oscars" if you will. First up is the "Oscar" for Most Enjoyable Large Game. There were... oh, why am I bothering with what's on the teleprompter? No one is listening anyway. The winner is... shaft.ed for Monty Python's Mafia Circus.
IT'S
Monty Python's Mafia Circus
There is an evil afoot on the set of the latest Monty Python filiming. Someone has been coming in a killing off the other characters. It seems a group of evil characters is vying for more time infront of the camera. Why just last night the entire cast of
Salad Days was massacredand it was even caught on film. You have to do something to stop the slaughter and save the characters that are left. You've decided not to take this lying down. You've unionized and enlisted the help of the Colonel.
At the end of each game day the Colonel will remove whatever player you have deemed as being "far too silly." Such silly characters will be kicked out of the union and forced to work on
children's television. Once the threats to your characters union have been eliminated you may all go back to starring in sketches with no punch line.
farside22:
And now, to help me present the next award, Aerin, who believes lynching the cat is pro-town:
"Ooh"s and "Aah"s are heard throughout the auditorium, making a weird harmony with all the screams and growling.
Aerin (via satellite):
Kitty!
farside22:
: Thank you for that, Aerin. This award is the "Oscar" for Best Performance by a Pro-Town Individual. What do you say, Aerin, who is the winner?
Aerin:
Ork.
farside22:
What's that?
Aerin:
Gork!
farside22:
Oh, Glork! Ok.
The crowd starts applauding as the music plays. farside22 looks around, but no one appears to be standing to come up to the stage.
farside22:
Glork? Surely he's here...
The applause turns to murmuring as the audience looks around for Glork, who is nowhere to be found.
farside22:
Huh. Well, let's go ahead and show why Glork deserved this award, and maybe someone will find him...
Nothing happens. The screen remains black. Suddenly, the lights go off.
A voice (presumably farside22):
What the...
Finally, the screen comes to life, showing an office or study of some sort. The chair behind the wooden desk is facing away, and the figure sitting in it is looking out a window to an expansive, vibrantly green park. The chair slowly turns to reveal...
Mr. Grey:
Hello, friends.
There are gasps in the audience. Possibly fainting. Because everyone is so completely surprised that Mr. Grey has made an appearance in this show. Really. Flabbergasted. I think Thesp wet himself, he's so shocked, between the surprise and the gapping plot holes and continuity errors. Wasn't there a big fight going on in the audience?
Mr. Grey:
It's been a long time, hasn't it... you're probably wondering what I've been up to. Mostly, I've been gardening. But also, I have been preparing...
"Preparing for what?", the crowd silently wonders.
Mr. Grey:
Preparing... for my return!
More gasps.
Mr. Grey:
Oh, and I kidnapped Glork. You can't have him back. Nyah.
The camera filming Mr. Grey shifts its attention to the right, where Glork is bound, hanging over a vat of CERTAIN DOOM (tm).
Mr. Grey:
And now, if you'll excuse me, I have some plotting to attend... hey, what the...
The lights in the auditorium suddenly come back on, and, standing behind the podium rather than farside22, who has surely had a massive heart attack from all the surprise plot twists, is... Gaspar?
Gaspar:
Not so fast, Mr. Grey... you still have to deal with... me.
Mr. Grey:
But... what... how did... now you've made
me
confused. You can't do that!
Gaspar:
But I can! And I'll play your little game... and I'll defeat you. Again. And this time... when I do... I'll finally unmask you, once and for all.
Mr. Grey:
We shall see about that... until we meet again...
There is a large puff of smoke, and, rather than Mr. Grey disappearing, the screen explodes and falls off, nearly crushing Gaspar to death. But he is one step ahead, and has switched places with farside22.
Who is crushed to death.
mith comes out, not at all looking like he has changed clothes very quickly, and assesses the damage.
mith:
Well, that was unfortunate. It looks like we're going to need a new presenter... fortunately, there's still one judge we haven't killed yet. Come on out, Vel-Rahn Koon!
Reluctantly (by which we mean: carried by several large men while he screams for help), VRK comes out on to the stage to present the final awards of the evening.
Vel-Rahn Koon:
This sucks.
mith:
But, VRK, I can't kill
you
off. Who would run the Newbie Queue?
Vel-Rahn Koon:
Good point. Ok, then. The third "Oscar" is for Most Enjoyable Mini Game. And the winner is... gorckat!
he Neighborhood has been a wonderful place to live. Folks return tools they borrow. Kids frolic at playgrounds and the old quarry. Main Street is home to vibrant shops and hospitable shop owners. Mr. Smith's tenure as mayor (the last 28 years) has been idyllic.
Mr. Smith knows everyone by name, the ages of their kids, how folks lawn or home improvements are coming. He walks his dog down his block, up Main Street, around the elementary school, across the baseball field and through the little patch of woods behind his lot.
Mr. Smith was found beaten to death halfway between third base and home plate on the baseball diamond. Mr. Smith didn't make it home.
Find the scum, kill them, save The Neighborhood.
Alternatively: avoid the gallows, kill the townies, claim The Neighborhood.
Vel-Rahn Koon:
I have the pleasure of presenting the final award of the evening, so we can all get the heck out of here. It's the "Oscar" for Best Performance by a Mafia Individual, and it goes to... Adel!
What happens when you place Adel-scum in a game without rules?
mith comes back on stage. He looks around the auditorium. Bodies are everywhere, and the fighting continues. It's chaos.
mith:
Uh... show's over. Let's wrap this up...
Forgotten in all the chaos was the fact that, against all probability, a killer whale had suddenly been called into existence above the auditorium. And, since this is not a naturally tenable position for a whale, theis poor innocent creature had very little time to come to terms...
Oh, dear, it's already landed. On VRK.
mith:
Take that, tigers! Let's see you fight two fronts!
Orca:
Actually... I'm on their side.
However, deciding that the war is now over, in spite of all evidence to the contrary...
AniX:
Now, let us put this whole affair behind us until the...
Random Alpaca:
Tiger scum!
Random Tiger:
Why must you be so hurtful to us??
Orca:
The Alpacas should be banned for that!
Random Alpaca:
I'll show you...
Random Alpaca goes off to spam GD and say derogatory things toward tigers.
Thestatusquo:
If the Alpaca goes, I go, melon farmers.
Thesp:
Would everyone please watch their language?
AniX:
Would you guys stop interrupting me? I was trying to make a point... what was it? Something about the 11th hour...
Simenon:
You know, this whole banning thing is similar to French Mimes during the War of 1812...
Australia:
WTF, mate?
JordanA24:
Hitler.
Thestatusquo:
Free Alpaca!
Talitha:
Will everyone just settle down? This is mith's site, he has the right to...
Judge Dredd:
I
am the Law.
ZONEACE:
Said the fag.
Blackberry:
I find that really offensive.
Max:
Yeah! I think we should start a tournament...
Mr. Flay:
Look, everyone, Jathan sent me a transcript of the whole thing, if you would just read it I think it makes it very clear who is to blame...
Everyone argues for a while, and it's a big mess. mith looks down from the podium and sighs.
mith:
I didn't want to do this...
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a device with a big red button on it. He pushes it.
mith stands in the now-empty auditorium. He gathers up his script and walks off the stage. He walks backstage to a big blue box and knocks on the door.
mith:
Sorry about that. I really didn't want to involve you. Where did you send them, anyway?
The man inside the box, which appears to be larger on the inside, pokes his head out.
The Eleventh Doctor:
The TARDIS sent them all one year in the future.
mith:
To next year's Scummies?
The Eleventh Doctor:
Exactly.
mith:
You mean...
The Eleventh Doctor:
That's right...
It's a cliffhanger.
AniX:
Can we unban StallingChamp yet?