1761: The Marissa Games – Chapter Eight

Title: The Marissa Games
Author:  Marissa the Writer
Media: Books/Movies/Video Games
Topic: The Hunger Games / Portal / MIB II / Team Fortress / Thomas the Trai- [Fuck it, I’m not adding any more to this list!  – Lyle]  The Kitchen Sink
Genre: Not Listed
URL:  Chapter Eight
Critiqued by agigabyte and Ghostcat

Not a Verb Counter: 625

Cain: I’d been hoping not to ever have to do one of these again–both because I hate this fic and because Syl is aboard one of my ships–but the Library did make us sign a contract.

Syl: :blows kisses: Bite me, kitten.

Agent [GREY]: Here you go, Ghostie. *Hands Ghostie a spray bottle*

Ghostie: Don’t worry, I came prepared today. :holds up Super Soaker 9000: Top me up?

Agent [GREY]: Of course. *Conjures Cardamom tea into the Super Soaker*

Syl: Bugger.

Cain: Glynda was going to join, but I vetoed that. I’m pretty sure the fic would’ve given her an aneurism.

Ghostie: Or someone :glares at Syl: would try to get her into trouble.

Cain: Well, that too. I was trying to be polite. It’s probably a waste of effort with Syl, though.

Syl: I’ll have you know those were nothing but baseless rumors and accusations.

*An end-table appears, followed by a datapad appearing on top of it, sitting perfectly upright in a blatant defiance of the laws of physics*

Goddess: And we all know that “baseless” can never be used to accurately describe you. *Waves to Cain* Hello, lovely!

Syl: Hey-ya, dimples!

Ghostie: Although “topless” can be used far too often to describe Syl.

Syl: Hey, if I’m doing my laundry I might as well do all of it.

Cain: Goddess. You do know we’re fighting a shadow war against each other, right?

Agent [GREY]: Well, that’s no reason to be impolite, is it?

Cain: Yes, it is.

Goddess: No, it isn’t. Besides, wars are boring.

Syl: He’s so rude. Do you know he sealed me in a force-field once? And then shot me at the event horizon of a black hole. I got a bruise on my bum. Anyone want to see?

Cain: And I’ll happily replicate that feat if you take your clothes off.

Ghostie: :hoses Syl down with tea: We’re starting the chapter soon, right? If you two start sniping at each other, we’ll be here all day.

Cain: Right now, in fact. Agent [GREY], normally I wouldn’t send you away in the middle of the riff, but I need you to work on tracking Goddess. It probably won’t matter, but I’d like to at least pretend we’re taking this conflict seriously.

*Agent [GREY] nods and turns into tea, disappearing. Most of the tea ends up splashing Syl upon falling to the ground, the rest disappearing*

Syl: :wrings out hat: For future reference, it is polite to at least buy a girl dinner before splashing her with your fluids.

Goddess: I can’t really give you a proper high-five from here in my secret base all the way in no-way-I’m-telling-you-land, so just pretend I’m giving you one.

Cain: We’re starting, now.

Ghostie: Please, for the love of all that is holy.


Chapter Text


Not a Verb Counter: 626

Cain: I’m skeptical. Is anyone else skeptical?

*Goddess raises her hand in agreement*

Ghostie: I’m always skeptical of anything that happens in this fic.


Not a Verb Counter: 628

Ghostie: :facepalms: How the hell can someone spell “spelling” wrong two different ways in the same frickin’ sentence?!?

Goddess: Also, nothing about this piece of crap is “noice” at all.

Ghostie: I think that’s supposed to be “noticed”. Possibly.

Goddess: We may never know. Partially because I think we’re going to move on before we give ourselves time to think about the fic in any meaningful way.

Syl: But I wanted to know when the cool plot will show up! It hasn’t been in the fic thus far.


Not a Verb Counter: 629

Cain: You… forgot–sorry, forgoat–which chapter this is? Really? That’s a new low, even for you.

Syl: I know a neat trick you can do with four goats, but at least one has to be shaved.

Ghostie: No one wants to hear it.

Goddess: Ooh! You should gag her.

Ghostie: Hell, no! She’s a biter.

Syl: Only if I’m feeling frisky. :winks:

Cain: Moving on.


Cain: *Eye twitch* Goddess?

Goddess: Okay, Marissa. That second part is not even worthy of the name “pun,” it was so bad an attempt.

Ghostie: It used the word pun, which is about as close as that statement gets to being a pun.

Goddess: Exactly! Marissa, you are a disgrace! Whatever good you did with the “Capitol” joke was completely undone by “Punisement.” For shame!

Syl: According to Ghostie’s reading materials, there should be a stern-faced woman following Marissa around ringing a bell and crying “Shame!”

Ghostie: You leave Song of Ice and Fire out of this, we don’t need another canon getting sucked into this black hole of a fic.

That dum Bissness Man was gonna make me lose the GAMES an I didant even do anythin yet.

Ghostie: We know, we were there. It’s been SEVEN CHAPTERS of nothing!

Cain: Actually, it’s been thirty-five chapters of nothing. Eighteen of ITS MY LIFE, and ten of TEEN FORTRESS 2, in addition to what we’ve had of this one so far. Just something I thought I’d note.

Ghostie: I meant just this fic, but … Damn.

All the Crits United flemar trollz was cheerin Prim an Peeta Peeta Sandwich Eata ft thenor thier sexay bodis an brave looks but nonone locked at me in my dumdress.

Cain: Okay, no. Primrose is twelve!

Goddess: My standards are higher than this!

Ghostie: Even Syl’s standards are higher than this! …Right?

Syl: Not by much, granted, but yes.

But I felted kina funny lick I was bein on fire an looked an….

Goddess: I think they left her in the dryer for too long. …Actually, that’s a good explanation for the entire fic’s lack of entertaining qualities.

Syl: Instead of missing socks, she’s missing plot.

I WAS A GIRL ON FIRE!11!!1!^6 “Yo go girl!” Bisstness Man yelled lowd an all the crowd saw my kool flamerdress an cheered and hoohayed an did wulf wistles!

Not a Verb Counter: 630

Ghostie: SHE’S ON FIRE! Quick, where are the marshmallows?

Syl: :hands over long stick adorned with marshmallows before extending her own: Way ahead of you.

Ghostie: You’re a terrible influence on me.

“OK DOODS Thats this yeers tributts.

Cain: Not a word, Syl.

Syl: But!

:Syl is doused with tea:

They gonna to trane now

Not a Verb Counter: 631

Cain: It’s been awhile since I last read the books, but weren’t they trained before being paraded through the Capitol?

Ghostie: I’m pretty sure that’s right; they arrive, do interviews and have a little pampering, undergo a few training montages, and then have the big processional right before the Games begin. It’s been a while, though.



Ghostie: I think my ears are bleeding. Can we turn down the volume on the datapad?

Goddess: *Pouts* If you’re sure.

Senenca Crane prided from his thrown he was on becos he was Hunger Gamzee King.

Not a Verb Counter: 632

Ghostie: No, he’s not. Because that’s not a thing.

Goddess: Who’s to say we can’t invent titles at random? I’m the Queen of Humor, after all.

Cain: No. You really aren’t.

Syl: I’m the Empress of Fleshly Delights.

Cain: I know of a few deities who would disagree.

Goddess: Such as myself. Sorry, Syl; I may be the Goddess of Sniping, but fleshly delights are one of my secondary domains.

Syl: It’s no fair, you’re hogging all the good ones. I don’t want to be stuck with some lame title like Princess of Gumdrop Island.

Ghostie: That’s an honorary title and you know it!

Goddess: I’ll happily hand the title off to you if you ever follow the instructions on that pamphlet I sent you. Fleshly delights is certainly a tiring domain. *Winks*

Syl: It has more than three steps. That’s too much like work.

Cain: I never thought I’d be so happy for Syl being who she is, but I can scarcely imagine her as a deity.

Ghostie: Thank goodness she’s a lazy bastard.

I blowed lots a kisses to the peeps an Prim an Peeta Peeta Sandwich Eata locked there

Not a Verb Counter: 634

Syl: Hey! That’s MY thing!

Is an almost did a makout but Haymash pulled ius of.

Goddess: What are “is” and “ius” supposed to be, here? I’m getting the impression of a three-way makeout session.

Syl: Oooh!

Ghostie: Down, girl. I have a full Super Soaker and I’m not afraid to use it.

Syl: :pouts: You know, if my clothes get stained with tea, I might have to do laundry when we get back to the Library.

:Ghostie flings Super Soaker away like it’s on fire:

Cain: There, you can pick it back up. It now only shoots the feeling of being hit with a blast of tea.

Ghostie: I miss the good old days when I could just threaten people with a rolled-up newspaper. This is getting complicated.

“Theres not time for romanse yet, its tim for u guys to get ur ratins.”

Ghostie: Is a ‘ratin’ similar to ‘au gratin”?


Goddess: Mitch is here? That bastard cheated me out of my winnings after a game of Paradox-Billiards-Vostroyan-Roulette-Fourth Dimensional-Hypercube-Chess-Strip Poker!

Syl: And he leaves hickies all over the place even after you tell him not to.

Cain: …Isn’t Paradox-Billiards-Vostroyan-Roulette-Fourth Dimensional-Hypercube-Chess-Strip Poker actually just a name deities use to cover up the fact that they play a children’s card game?

Goddess: That’s besides the point!

Ghostie: Since when is any version of strip poker considered a child’s game?

Cain: It’s not actually strip poker. They’re just all too prideful to admit that it’s really Yu-Gi-Oh.

Ghostie: Ohhh!

taked us inot were all the others tributes was praktising. “Sins yur Distract 12 u go last so study theese guys for agood impression. Peeta Peeta Sandwich Eata wented strate for the strongmans to show of his powa an Prim jomped to the seeling were there was ropes an a other tribute.

Not a Verb Counter: 638

Ghostie: …I have no idea what’s going on.

I desided to scope thins owt an size up the compys.

Not a Verb Counter: 639

Ghostie: The tiny dinosaurs from the Jurassic Park franchise that eat people?

The first tributt I met was Cato, a huge cat that cold walk on 2 legs an ware cloths from Distract 1.

Cain: I don’t think that was a thing in canon.

Ghostie: No, definitely not.

Goddess: Also, can we start a “tributt” counter?

Syl: I vote “Yes!”

Cain: Monitor technically has final say, given that he runs the fleet’s counters.

(The answer is “no.” -Monitor)

Syl and Goddess: :double pout:

“Be carefull Marrisser, hes dangerous.” Wispered Haymitch. “Meow meow moew” Said Cato likin his.

Not a Verb Counter: 640

Goddess: *Snerk* Yeah, real dangerous. I’m so scared of those meows.

Syl: I want to know what he’s licking. I’m running out of ideas for fanart of Mr. Kitten-pants here.

Cain: Ghostie, could you shoot her with the super-soaker?

Ghostie: …Sorry, I just had this really weird mental image of kitten pants. :fires Super Soaker at Syl:

Syl: hisses:

I waked up to a arsery stashun with 2 of other gurls name Glimmer an Fuxfeces.

Not a Verb Counter: 641

Cain: What?!

Ghostie: I’m just going to go ahead and blast Syl again before she can say anything.

Syl: WHA…:is blasted with Super Soaker:

(I’m just putting the counter at a hundred for that one. -Monitor)

Scatology Counter: 100

“Hi Im Marrissa Roberts u eksited for the game?” I happied tryin to get them on my good side an maybe do an allyinse.

Not a Verb Counter: 643

Ghostie: My brain is losing the ability to verb good.

“Go way u b***** c*******f**** j*****!” Prepped Gilmer an Fauxfeces lolled.

Not a Verb Counter: 645

(I’m not quite sure if fake poop qualifies, but I’m not inclined to give Marissa any leeway. -Monitor)

Scatology Counter: 101

Cain: Hmm. I wonder what they’re saying under those asterisks.

Syl: I know what they’re not saying. I have a well-honed vocabulary of invective, and nothing matches up with those number of asterisks.

“Weer career tributs we only ally wif Cato an Rigmaster an Skep an those.” FF pontsed to a circul of familiar fases. IT WAS…. THE FALMER TROLZZZZ11@@@!!!!

Not a Verb Counter: 646

Ghostie: Since that Trolls movie came out, I’m having a hard time picturing these “falmer/framer/flamer trolls” as anything but singing CGI characters.

I rannded up to thems ready for a fite becos they ahd doned so much rong to all the people.

Not a Verb Counter: 648

Cain: I don’t think the “falmer/framer/flamer trolls” have ever done anything “rong to all the people.” They’ve jeered at Marissa and Wheetly/Wheately/Wheetely, but that’s it.

Ghostie: As Character Blobs go, they’ve been mostly blob with very little character to speak of.

Cain: Wait, I remember. A group of them sent an undead cyborg werewolf-thing called Wolf/Wulf after Teen Fortress Two near the end, but that was about it.

“Dont even try nothin yet weer all frends heer” Skep trolled wif sockasm.

Not a Verb Counter: 649

Ghostie: Honey, I know sarcasm and that ain’t it.

“Ya well get u good in da ringu dum m******** but not yetted.” Ringmaestro went. “We gonna get ratied now.”

Not a Verb Counter: 650

Syl: Is it time to pummel them with rats?

Cain: Let me guess. They’re all going to walk past her and she’s going to stand there, fuming.

Ghostie: As much as it pains me, I’m starting to like Syl’s plan to pummel them with rats.

They leaved an I was fooming with angry.

Not a Verb Counter: 651

Goddess: Would you look at that? Cain was right.

Ghostie: She’s fuming AND angry. Now you know she means business.

Cain: Or not, because she let them leave without a fight. It does stand to reason that that would get her trouble, attacking them during training, but I don’t think Marissa is quite smart enough to realize that.

Syl: Less talking, more pummelling with rats!

Ghostie: Would you stop it with … Where did Syl get a bucket of rats on your ship?

Syl: Found ‘em in the kitchens.

Goddess: I have a concession stand in there. It’s one of the perks of having a story-breakingly overpowered corporation at your disposal. Even your enemies have to buy from you. Or the PCC, but I’m apparently the lesser of two evils.

Ghostie: No offense, Cain, but I’m never eating on this ship again.

Cain: The kitchens aren’t actually used on most of the ships. Only the cutting-edge vessels produced entirely in our shipyards actually have functional kitchens. Every other one uses regular rations.

Goddess: *Yawns* Cain, no one cares about your logistics except Dakota. No one.

Ghostie: I just want to finish this chapter so I can go home and scrub myself down with bleach.

They wast proally angry thats I was the flamer dress stead of them wen that was there theem.

Ghostie: Yes, they were mad that no one set them on fire in front of a crowd. That’s seems rational.

Bissness Man dided that on porpoise to make them mad becos he was still hangry

Not a Verb Counter: 652

Goddess: That’s an easy fix. Just eat a Snickers. Or, if you’re from my time, a Snerkers™. Guaranteed to-

Cain: Goddess, stop advertising. Now.

Goddess: *Pouts*

at Skep for divortioning him an makin him pay child supple for the baby they had in foster’s care “Skepness Man”.

Not a Verb Counter: 653

Ghostie: Wait, what? When did this become a soap opera?

Cain: I’m sure there’s a specific chapter from back in ITS MY LIFE that I could point you too if I was willing to look. Probably the first or second one.

Next up I went to Sweary Guy, a old guy (AN: Hes evan more olderer than Haymatch)

Ghostie: Who? And what?

with grey hare a bissness soot an tye an rinkles. “What the buggerin f**** p**** g******* b***** c*** are u bullockin done heer f****888?”

Cain: What does the number eight have to do with this?

Goddess: Perhaps he was going to advertise Cellino and Barnes Injury Attorneys, but forgot what he was doing? He is supposedly rather old.

Ghostie: Is it just me, or is he described as being a wrinkly grey rabbit in a business suit?

Cain: I’m pretty sure you’re right.

Goddess: The business suit does lend credence to my theory.

Sweared him in British. U dont call a lady that! Spessaly not me, so I leaved.

Not a Verb Counter: 656

Ghostie: I swear, if this leads to more of that “Britishing” crap, I’m going to lose it. And Marissa definitely isn’t a lady.

Goddess: If Wheatley’s chapters are to be believed, then she’s just a pair of breasts and nothing else.

Syl: Must be hard finding clothes that fit. No wonder she was so excited about that damn dress.

Becos Im a spesla three tribute I wnted last for the intview. Pimp swungled down form the roaps to her turn an the gurl was takin wif goed to me. “Im Roo u most be Marrissa Roberts!” A girl bout Plims age worded.


Syl: :fires off flares and waves sparklers: ARE YOU WATCHING ME NOW?!?

Cain and Ghostie: :double facepalm:

Not a Verb Counter: 661

“OMG how did u no?”

Cain: Because, as Goddess and Syl so eloquently pointed out, you’re special.

Ghostie: In more than one sense of the word.

Goddess: Oh, you mean like this?

Roo lollt “Yur famos lol!” I guess Bissness Mans flamersoot dress realay DID WORK. “So hoo are u?” of Roo.

Ghostie: All this hooting at Roo reminds me of something.


“My dat as a humon an my mom was a kangaroo so Im half so thats why Im Roo an I can jump an clime an am good at all the things.”

Not a Verb Counter: 662

Cain: What is it with Marissa and half-human, half-animals? First the Scout’s siblings in Teen Fortress 2, and now this.

Ghostie: She also had a thing for robot-human hybrids, what with the “robot-ball-baby” in ITS MY LIFE. That is not how biology works.

Not a Verb Counter: 663

Goddess: Okay, Roo. This is your chance. While she’s keeping her eye on this particular room, you run the moment you’re outside of it.

Cain: And she’s good at all of the things, but had never fought before the Hunger Games?

Ghostie: She must be good at only some of the things. So sad; no Sue badge for her.

“MARRISSA ROVERTS YUR UP!” A gammaker noised from the doors so I came. Insid was a room with sum weapons an the gaymakers

Not a Verb Counter: 664

Ghostie: :slaps Marissa across the face with a dead mackerel:

Cain: There are so many things wrong with this… fifth-or-so of a paragraph that I don’t even know where to begin.

were eatin lots of food becos they was all at leest 300000000 pounds eech

Cain: That’s over a hundred thirty-six thousand metric tonnes.

Ghostie: Or one hundred and fifty thousand tons, in the United States. That’s a lot.

Cain: So, what exactly are they eating?

Ghostie: All the things, deep-fried and dipped in butter.

Goddess: Hmm. I wonder if eating all of the things makes one good at all of the things.

an Scene Queen was on a thrown a gain. “So us yur stuff so we can eet.” Boreded one.

Not a Verb Counter: 666

Ghostie: Because clearly they are just starving.

To impeis them I used my spesal powers to liftatate the table but one wasant impress. “Hey im eatin that!122”

Not a Verb Counter: 669

Syl: They’re eating the table? No wonder they got so fat; furniture goes straight to the hips.

Goddess: Hey, look at the counter!

Syl: :giggles:

Cain: Both of you, please just stop doing that.

Goddess: Stop doing what? Be a bit more specific.

Cain: Everything.

Syl: What about entropy? Nobody can stop that.

Cain: Well, there are at least three deities I can think of that could do so, but point taken.

So I sayd “Ok Ill give u sekunds!” So I made a hole pig go into his moth an down this throte buttit got logged there an he cudant breth so I had to use MEGA PAWNCH to gets it owt but I accidentally punshed ot all his orguns an internal guts so he died.

Not a Verb Counter: 674

Ghostie: …What just happened?

Goddess: Well, there goes my theory that eating all of the things makes you good at all of the things.

Ghostie: No, seriously, what just happened? I get as far as Marissa shoving a whole pig down someone’s throat and making them choke and that’s it.

Cain: I think she punched him in his everywhere.

Syl: I hate it when that happens. It’s so messy.

“GET OWT!!#y!#u!*(*(!!!!!{87” Sentinel Crane

Cain: Who?

screemed wit hatred. I messeded up reel bad this time (SEE MARRISAS NOT A MURY SUE !!12).

Not a Verb Counter: 676

:entire riffing team collapses with laughter:

Cain: *Sits back up in his chair* And Goddess doesn’t lie to anyone. Right.

Ghostie: And Syl is meek and soft-spoken.

Cain: You forgot prudish.

Ghostie: Yeah, she’s a regular schoolmarm.

Syl: I’m right here, you know.

Cain and Ghostie: We know.

With hed lo I waked bak to Thomas the Tink Enjine

Not a Verb Counter: 679

Cain: Wait, wasn’t he destroyed?

Ghostie: I think he was hit by an asteroid at one point, wasn’t he?

Cain: We’ll be right back after we figure out what happened.

:research break:

Cain: Okay, so, from what we can understand, this is what happened: An asteroid destroyed their original train, so they called in another one. It was Thomas the Tank Engine, who Atlas and P-Body hacked. He was speeding at Marissa, going ten-quadrillion and fifty miles per hour, before he was stopped by Teen Fortress 2. He crashed, then the crash died, but apparently he survived the death of the crash, since they were able to use manual drive. Yes, really.

Ghostie: It somehow makes even less sense when you summarize it.

were Peeta Peeta Snadwich Eata and Prim were tellin Haymish, Bissness Man an Effie the down lo.

Not a Verb Counter: 679

Ghostie: Would you mind sharing, because I’m still very much confused on a number of points.

“I showed tem my cunnin stunt!” Say Prim of her quizzed. “They was relay imprezzed.”

Not a Verb Counter: 680

Syl: You should never do that on a first date, dear. Not at your age.

Cain: She said cunning stunt, not… you know what? Nevermind.

Syl: You’re such a spoilsport, kitten.

“Peeta Peeta Sandwich Eata sau that he use strength to pull it in half.”

Cain: Wait, is this dialogue? It doesn’t look like dialogue, but it’s in quotation marks.

Ghostie: I’m more concerned about what What’s-his-name tore in half. If it was a phone book, that’s impressive – but if it was a matchbook, then not so much.

“Ho did yurs go Marrissa?” Haymish saked.

Not a Verb Counter: 681

Syl: What about saké?

Ghostie: No, Syl.

“Nut so god…

Goddess: Nutso God? That would explain a lot.

Ghostie: Or is there a God of Nuts?

Goddess: Either way, there’s some deity at work and I promise it isn’t me this time.


Ghostie: Didn’t Wheatley die? Repeatedly?

Cain: He was alive again by the time the fic started. Of course, I’m pretty sure every character from the original has died at least once.

I cryed sooo many teers I was almost a goth emo but it was ok this time sins this was serios bissness.

Not a Verb Counter: 682

Cain: Okay, that was a close call. We almost had a Code: Immortal Echo 53 Beta Foxtrot. I promise that does mean something.

Ghostie: I’ll put the black eyeliner and MCR albums on stand-by for now.

Ten the door exploded an I powered up for a fite but only Effie. She jump-kiked the dore down becos she was in a big hurray.

Not a Verb Counter: 683

Ghostie: Effie was already inside with them, how did she manage to kick in a door to get into to a place where she already was?

Cain: Not sure, but I did notice she used a hyphen. Half a point for effort. And five points off for the spelling error.

“Hurry guys ther showin the scores!” She went turn on the tellyvishun (it was a cool sooped up one that was a big screen plasma an had HF capasities an 3DD)

Not a Verb Counter: 684

Ghostie: I’m not the most technically-inclined person, but these do not look like words to me.

Cain: They’re closer to words than most of this fic, but that’s like saying that Goddess is more modest than Syl; technically true, but only slightly.

Sensual Crane was on an wave from his thrown.

:porno music blasts from the ship’s loudspeakers:

Cain: You have to be kidding me.

Ghostie: How did she even do that?

Cain: My guess is Swenia had some involvement, but one can never be certain with the… what are you calling yourselves now?

Syl: The Congress of Carnality.

Cain: Oh, by the way, I’m stopping this, now.

*The music stops*

Goddess: You’re no fun.

“Aight everbyboydy its that tim of yeer agane! The scores for THE TRIBYOUTS!!!!!111” Senkena louded with a plause. The scores were

Not a Verb Counter: 685

Ghostie: THERE’S A SCORECARD?!? How much more of this do we have to sit through?


Cain: Yes, very funny. You can tell by the utter hatred in my eyes.

Syl: But you always look like that.


Ghostie: What the hell is “haf werlds bloog”? Half-world blood?

Cain: Actually, it’s a reference to Skepkitty, who riffed several fics on “The Half World.” And is a falmer troll.

Ghostie: What about Sweary Guy, that rabbit in the suit? Does he have an actual name?

Goddess: Sweary Guy’s name is unknown, because it’s always covered in asterisks.


Ghostie: Who is “fish dead”?

ROO: 10

Syl: Hey, no fecal reference this time! That’s a first.

Cain: I doubt our luck will hold out. And keep Harry Potter out of this. We already have enough canons in here as it is.

Goddess: Cain, sorry to break it to you, but Marissa wrote a fic called HARRY POTTER AND THE KILL OF SNAPE.

Cain: Of course she did.


Ghostie: I don’t know who most of these people are and I don’t remember them being anywhere in the fic.

Cain: So far, we haven’t even gotten to twenty people.

Ghostie: There’s supposed to be twenty-four, plus the Special Little Snowflake Marissa making twenty-five as a “three tribute”. We don’t even have half that.

I o-mouthed in shock at wat teh last score was!

Not a Verb Counter: 686

Cain: It’s going to be ridiculously high, isn’t it.

Ghostie: Of course; she o-mouthed in shock, didn’t she?


Cain: Ah, yes. What was it you said during the demonstration?


Goddess: We didn’t believe you then, and certainly don’t now.

Syl: Liar, liar, dress on fire. Also, flaming rats! :throws bucket of rats at Marissa:


Ghostie: NOOOOOO!!!!


Cain: We are not, it seems, the only ones who can’t figure out Sweary Guy’s real name.

Ghostie: It’s kind of sad, and not a little bit depressing. She could have literally made up anything, but instead she went with ‘Sweary Guy’. That’s just lazy.

Goddess: Her description was just as half-assed. Seriously. It made him seem like a grey-furred, wrinkled rabbit in a business suit. How do you fuck up a description that badly?

Ghostie: Although, he’s been the most memorable part of the chapter -him and Cato the Man-cat – so there is that.

Goddess: I just got that pun, and wow, it’s bad.

Syl: It’s barely a pun, it’s like a punlette.

Cain: Well, fun as this hasn’t been, I’d really like Syl off my ship, now. Of course, more than that, I’d like Goddess to end her call.

Syl: You want to get me off that badly, do you? All you have to do is ask. :winks:

Goddess: Eh, he’s boring. I can arrange a meeting some time soon.

Syl: But he’s so fun to tease. Ghostie doesn’t turn nearly as red.

Ghostie: That’s because I’m dead inside now.

Cain: Haven’t you been since your first riff?

Ghostie: Ah, good ol’ Forbiden Fruit and the throbbing man-carrot. Those were the good old days before I discovered that shark porn and sibcest were real things.

Cain: I think we should end this before we start reminiscing about the fics that are arguably even worse.

Syl: Where’s your first aid station? I have a rat bite that looks infected.

Cain: Sorry, but the medical bay is off-limits to you after complaints from last time you were in there. And I don’t believe you, because you’ve shrugged off being thrown into a black hole.

Syl: Damn it all. I was hoping to steal some new towels.

Goddess: See you guys next time! I’d forgotten how much fun this is.

Syl: Bye, dear! Call me and we’ll do lunch!

Goddess: *Kisses the screen*

Ghostie: This will not end well.

Goddess: I beg to differ. Love you guys! *Disconnects*

Ghostie: I’m going to go lock myself in the bunker. C’mon, Syl. You’re driving.

Cain: Goodbye, everyone!


7 Comments on “1761: The Marissa Games – Chapter Eight”

  1. agigabyte says:

    Goddess: Oh, you mean like this?


    That was supposed to go to a certain timestamp. Ah, well.

  2. TacoMagic says:

    taked us inot were all the others tributes was praktising. “Sins yur Distract 12 u go last so study theese guys for agood impression. Peeta Peeta Sandwich Eata wented strate for the strongmans to show of his powa an Prim jomped to the seeling were there was ropes an a other tribute.

    The fuck did I just read!?

    • agigabyte says:

      Oh, just you wait. The next chapter is even worse.

    • GhostCat says:

      I kind of wish we could record one of agig and mine’s riffing sessions, because most of the time it’s us trying (and failing) to read the fic and parse out what it says and then just laughing and saying snarky things.

      • agigabyte says:

        Also: research breaks. Lots of them. Only the most ridiculous are mentioned in the riff itself, but we tend to have at least three per chapter as we try to figure out what ridiculous past event (Thomas the Tank Engine) or butchered character (we figured out who Sweary Guy is, but I honestly can’t remember right now) is being referenced. It’s truly amazing. We had a Skype chat, and now a Discord one, which is wonderful, especially since others can join in on the call if they’re around.

      • TacoMagic says:

        Yeah, Discord is pretty awesome. I have three gaming groups that I manage through there and it makes things so very easy compared to the dark ages of TeamSpeak and Skype.

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