1767: The Marissa Games – Chapter Nine

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 Nine
Critiqued by agigabyte and Ghostcat

Not a Verb Counter: 686

Scatology Counter: 101

Cain: Welcome back, everyone. I’m here with Syl, Ghostie, and Datapad-Goddess for another chapter of The Marissa Games. Say hello.

Syl: Hello! :blows kisses:

Ghostie: Do I really have to be here?

Goddess: You seem kind of annoyed, Cain. And yes, Ghostie. Sorry about that.

Syl: Have you met him? Kitten’s middle name is “Annoyed”. Or possibly Tiberius, I forget which.

Goddess: I prefer other middle names for him.

Syl: McLovin? That’s always a good choice. Very hipster.

Cain: This is the part where we begin the riff.

Ghostie: Yes, please. The sooner we start, the sooner we can get finished. How many chapters are left, anyway?

Chapter 10: LET THE GAMES BEGGIN

A OTHER CHAPTER ALREDY?! IM SO GOOD!111

:group chuckle:

ANYAY IS STILL CANT REMBER WAT THE CHAPTER NUMBRE WAS SO ILL CALL THIS ON CHAPTER 2 OK, IN…

Not a Verb Counter: 687

Ghostie: NOOOOOO!!!! I DON’T WANNA START OVER! :collapses:

Cain: Also, you just called it chapter ten. Sure, it was still wrong, but that was right there

THE MARRISSA GAMES
CHAPTER 2: LET THE GAMES BEGGIN (LOVE YA WHEETLY!11)

Not a Verb Counter: 688

Cain: I’m just impressed that she actually wrote it as chapter two like she said she would, instead of three or twenty-two, or something else equally as ridiculous.

Ghostie: Why the random shout-out to Wheatly, though? She’s not going to bring him back from the dead again, is she?

Goddess: Pretty sure he’s still alive. Like, sixty-five percent sure. It’s really hard to keep track.

Syl: Pity. Ghostie loves her some zombies. You should see her Tumblr dashboard.

I o-mouthed

Not a Verb Counter: 689

Ghostie: :walks over to the wall and starts hitting her head against it: Why? Why? Why? Why must there always be more o-mouthing?

in shok an Haymish an Peeta Peeta Sandich Eata an Effie an Bissness Man an Prim all sheered at me,

Not a Verb Counter: 690

Syl: Is she suddenly a sheep now?

Goddess: Who knows? Perhaps she’s an animagus on top of everything else, all of the sudden.

Syl: An animagus who enjoys a good gangbang shearing. Kinky.

Cain: *Eye roll*

I had gotted the highest score ever!~~ “Thats a good skore Marrissa, but dont get cooky, the othes are super dangerous, specially Fresh.” Haymicht instruted.

Not a Verb Counter: 690

Cain: Which one was Fresh?

Syl: I don’t know, but I kind of want a cookie now.

Cain: Okay, Fresh had a single mention and nine points in the last chapter. That’s all the chapter said about them.

Ghostie: Well, he/she/it certainly made an impression, didn’t they?

From the esploded dore some peacekeepers came an grabbbed me an Prim an Peeta Peeta Sandich Eata “Time for yur interviews!”. We was taked to a big statium were tons of capitols an flamer trolz an camras an others were all washing.

Not a Verb Counter: 693

Cain: Wait a moment. There were multiple Capitols inside the stadium that is also in the Capitol?

Goddess: Capitolception!

Riffers using overplayed memes Counter: Probably Really Really High By This Point

Goddess: Asshole.

Ghostie: Like we’d ever have a counter like that. It’d stay at the infinity symbol all the time.

Syl: I like how everyone suddenly decided to take a bath all at the same time. Must have been all sweating from the shearing.

I was putted on a chair necks to a old guy wit funny hare.

Ghostie: :crosses fingers: Please don’t be Bugs Bunny.

Cain: Is this “Sweary Guy”?

Ghostie: You mean Caesar Flickerman? I think that’s who it’s supposed to be.

Cain: Oh, no. Different characters. I got confused by the misspelling of hair.

“My name si Ceaser, I can talk to dogs.” I OMGed it wass TEH DOG WHISPERSER, hes a cool guy an I used to wash his show on the tv wen I was at Portal Labs (after GLaDOS was kill off course, she didant let me do nothin but test). “So Marrissa I herd that yur the first ever 3 tribute Hunger Game? Is dere anyoen yur fightin for?”

Not a Verb Counter: 696

Ghostie: …Wrong Caesar. I guess we should be grateful it wasn’t a Roman dictator, though.

Cain: She did already bring in Abraham Lincoln. I shudder to imagine what other historical figures she could drag screaming into this festering pile of fecal matter.

Ghostie: This fic has had considerably less time travel shenanigans than some of her other ones. Thank goodness for small favors.

I thot about Wheatly an Chell Junor back at Distract 12 bein all scared for me an teers welted up in my eyes.

Cain: The tears did what we’ve all wanted someone to, and punched her in the eyes.

GHostie: So far, the tears are my favorite character in the fic.

“I have a grate

Goddess: -ing.

hubby an dotter hopin for me back at D12.”

Ghostie: Why does her family live on a die?

Cain: I’m honestly not sure, but she does seem to roll a Natural One on every single writing check she makes.

Ghostie: In my day we called them “crit-1”s, but you have a very valid point. I think her GM is drunk.

I sucked in my teers becos if I reel cried it wuld show weekness an I wold get kill but the peeps all “Awwww” at me an cheered an waved.

Syl: :snorts: I’ve known fully synthetic beings who were better at emotions than this trollop.

(Well, I’m offended. -Monitor

Syl: You’re always offended, though.

Goddess: Comes from being based off of Cain’s neural patterns. Though he’s somehow even more irritable, which I wouldn’t have thought possible.

Syl: That does explain the complete lack of a sense of humor, though. You should do a patch for that.

I just noo that Whealy an Chell Junor was watchin an bein brave for moomy. “Thats all the tyme we haf now good luck Marrisse I hope you win!” Ceeser dog voiced an I went of the stage. Haymath an Effie clappded me on the back an Effie whipsered “you relay moved them!”

Not a Verb Counter: 698

Ghostie: Dog voiced? Is he barking at them the whole time?

Cain: I would question how Marissa understands him, but she’s Marissa.

Syl: She’s fluent in Bitch.

Next up was Cato but Ceeser was RELAY MAD at him becos he was cat. “BARK BARK BARK!!1131” Barkled Ceaser wit angry an he chased Cato a round the hole stage but everpone thout it was part of teh show an lolled. Cato gotted up a tree so Ceber calmed down an had the next one it was…. Skep!

Not a Verb Counter: 700

Ghostie: I WAS JOKING ABOUT THE BARKING, FIC!

Cain: And Syl claims I have no sense of humor.

Syl: Keeping one in a jar in the cupboard doesn’t count, kitten.

“Soo Skep I heered that yuo are gonna do a spesal permorfance for all the people tonite!” Ceaser anticipated.

Not a Verb Counter: 701

Cain: That’s… not what that word means.

Ghostie: That’s barely a word, more like a random collection of letters cosplaying as a word.

Cain: I meant “anticipated,” but in hindsight that sentence could refer to more than half of this fic.

Skep nodded with hed then stand up and riped her dress off!

:Ghostie covers her eyes while Syl takes out a bundle of single dollar bills and Goddess triggers the cameras:

Underneeth was rock n roll cloths like MCR or Avril Lavinge!

Syl and Goddess: Awww…

She groped Caeser’s micky

Goddess: Never heard that particular euphemism before, but I’m all for it.

Syl: There was this one time, in Florida, while I was in this theme park… :is suddenly tackled by a velociraptor:

Ghostie: Thank you, Eliza!

Goddess: Hey, Eliza, just pretend that you’re allowed in this room normally. Cain’s ego gets bruised when you suggest that his security protocols are ineffective. Of course, Cain’s ego gets bruised when you say just about anything about him.

Ghostie: Eliza is surprisingly good at getting into places where she shouldn’t be. She’s been spending a lot of time with the clan, they love their Nee-chan.

an yellt “HEY CAPTIOLS ARE U REDY TO ROKKK!!?!??2323397!?!?” An they all did a huge cheer.

Ghostie: Someone’s doing a huge amount of something, that’s the only explanation for this literal trainwreck of a fic.

Skep taked a deep breth an me an Peeta Peeta Sandwich Eata an Bissness Man an Effie an Haymother an Prim all o-mouthed at wat was happenin, she was steelin my thundar!! Then SKEP stared TO SGING!!

Not a Verb Counter: 704

Ghostie: :resumes hitting wall with head, then pauses: Wait, she’s not actually going to sing is she?

Cain: Oh, no. Monitor, I need the entire Fleet’s shields up, now!

I TROLL EVERY DAY AN NITE
ALWAYS KEEPIN UP TEH FITE
DOIN MY MTS AN IN THE THINGS
I SAY I WANNA MAKE HORRIBLE COMMANTS
AN RITE NOW IM WEARIN PANTS (AN: SORRY THIS WAS HARD TO RIME)
I FLAMETROLL YOU, I DRIVIN CRAZY
I ALWAYS TROLLIN, I KEEP ON TROLLIN

I WANNA FLAME AN TROLL ALL NITE AN MST DURN THE DAY
I WANNA FLAME AN TROLL ALL NITE AN MST DURN THE DAY
I WANNA FLAME AN TROLL ALL NITE AN MST DURN THE DAY
I WANNA FLAME AN TROLL ALL NITE AN MST DURN THE DAY

IM GONNA TROLL U FOR ALL TIME WHILE
AND YUR DUM AN GOT NO RITIN STYLE
I TROLL ALL NITE, I STD ALL DAY
ILL NEER STOP TROLLIN
AN THEN ILL SAY MARRISSA
SUKS AN ILL KILL YOU IN GAMES
I ALWAYS TROLLIN, I KEEP ON TROLLIN

I WANNA FLAME AN TROLL ALL NITE AN MST DURN THE DAY
I WANNA FLAME AN TROLL ALL NITE AN MST DURN THE DAY
I WANNA FLAME AN TROLL ALL NITE AN MST DURN THE DAY
I WANNA FLAME AN TROLL ALL NITE AN MST DURN THE DAY
I WANNA FLAME AN TROLL ALL NITE AN MST DURN THE DAY
I WANNA FLAME AN TROLL ALL NITE AN MST DURN THE DAY

I WANNA FLAME AN TROLL

MARRISSA SUKS!!!@!@@!@!!@!!!88

Not a Verb Counter: 714

*The crew picks themselves up off the floors, except for Goddess’ datapad which remained on its table. Syl, still standing, looks at them*

Syl: It wasn’t that bad. Could have used a little more dubstep.

Cain: Do you have any idea how badly the ship was shaking, or were you not paying attention?

Syl: No worse than some concerts I’ve been to. No one tried to grab my ass, though, so I was a bit disappointed.

Cain: *Shakes his head and sighs* Never mind. I’ll be back in a few moments. I need to go deal with the damage. *Walks out of the room*

Ghostie: Was that … Was that an Author’s Note in the middle of the lyrics? A FRICKIN’ AUTHOR’S NOTE?!? You all saw that, right? I’m not just suffering from fic-induced dementia, am I?

Goddess: Oh, it was there, sadly. I thought we’d already reached the threshold of Author’s Note-related stupidity, but I was wrong.

Ghostie: She was rhyming ‘comments’ with ‘pants’! How even … She wasn’t even wearing pants! She had a dress on!

Goddess: Actually, she ripped it off and had some other clothes on it. Of course, given that she said “I STD ALL DAY,” I think she may have ripped those off as well without the narration telling us.

Skep doble jumped of the stage an landed in a figure ate an did devil sine!!!

Ghostie: I know a lot of people hate math, but it isn’t really from the devil.

Goddess: She also double jumped into a figure that ate her.

Ghostie: Lucky.

How wold I beet when Critis United was the in charge//.? “Torromow you will game Marrissa, so go get sum sleep.” Haymith oroperated sternlay. I goed wif Prim an Peeta Peeta Sandwich Eata to are trane cars.

Not a Verb Counter: 716

Goddess: *Collapses in peals of laughter* I’m sorry… it’s just, oroperated? What the fuck does that even mean? Does that mean something in Japanese, Ghostie?

Ghostie: Not that I know of, but let me check my dictionary … :starts putting the word in, then pauses: Huh. Does anyone know what ‘lochia” is?

Cain: *Walks back in*

Goddess: Post-natal vaginal discharge. Yes, really.

Ghostie: I really hope that wasn’t what the author was going for.

Cain: I… in what context could what Goddess just said actually be relevant?

Syl: Trust me, kitten, there are things you are better off not knowing.

MEANWHILE Capntan Wip Whittaker was flyin a plane from Mulhollan
Drive to the Captiol. “Oh man I am soooo hi on drugs an beer!!3” Whittled him to the copolite wile druggin a beer.

Cain: “Whittled?” As in wood? Or is someone reducing him in size?

Syl: The hell is that guy doing to that beer? You put the roofie in the beer, moron.

He was a flyer man sins bein a kid but inner demons mad him drug an beer.

Goddess: “No, Wip, you are the beer.” And then Wip was a drugs.

There wase sooo much drug smoke in there that u cudant see an the plane was flyin crazy. Wip wiped out his windown but the plan hwas in a talespin becos he putted so much drug in teh engines. Eh new things was lookin bad but he bravefased to coprolite an say:

Not a Verb Counter: 720

Ghostie: What is going on? Who is this guy? Why is he trying to drug an airplane engine?

Goddess: I knew that some people had weird kinks, but even Slaanesh doesn’t go this far. Well, most of the time. There was that one time Slaanesh stole Khorne’s Chainsword. He was angrier than usual that day. Ah, the memories.

Syl: :takes notes:

“ITS TURBO TIM!!!2!21” Wip rabed the stranchweel flippin an floatin the plan upside down to barf an brake. “URRUBBB!!” Yellted the Coop an vlommited all over the screen so he cudant see the landin.

Not a Verb Counter: 724

Ghostie: The pilot is deliberately doing this, vomiting and everything? Why?

Cain: I’d make a “Step 4: Profit” joke, but the entire plan would consist of “???”

“GREAT GRUGS WEER GOON DYE!!12” Wip backhanded hims “NO I CAN DOIT!!”HE yell an did a barral role thru bildins an a engint fell of an landed on Katniss howse back in Distract 12 an becos it was soooo full of a poop it all cashed fire an made a huge fire that burnded down a hole lotta plases.

Not a Verb Counter: 726

Scatology Counter: 102

Ghostie: The house exploded because it was full of poop? What the hell do these people eat, dynamite and gasoline?

“HOLD ON BOIS!!1223111111111!11!!!!”

Cain: Has Marissa ever heard of the concept of holding down a button?

Wip stirred the plane almost to rite an they was headnin for a big smashle rite next to me (AN I DIDANT MO BECOS I WAS A SLEEP).

Not a Verb Counter: 728

Cain: What? No, you don’t understand. What does that even mean?!

Syl: Do you really think someone could write this badly if they were fully awake?

SLUMBOMBAMMERJUMJUMWHAAM the plane said as it crushed inot the floor.

Ghostie: The plane talks now?

The cooplite was grotated from the waste down an a other lady gotted her foot stuck in a tray tabel but the perssure was 2 much an it snaped foot off but her head was crooshed so it didnt care. “YEEEEAOUCH!” Screemed copiolite at the distruction of his legs an feet an balls to pulp.

Not a Verb Counter: 734

Syl: I’m very disappointed in this fic. The author had multiple opportunities to misspell “copilot” and not once did she use “coprolite”.

Wipe unburnded his flesh with belts an fisted

Goddess: But wasn’t his co-pilot’s ass destroyed?

Syl: Also his legs, feet, and balls.

Goddess: But not his penis?

Syl: It’s in that general area, so I doubt it’s in pristine condition anymore.

out thru the windown SMASSH and floo sum speeds an landed at dore of the trane an nocked.

Not a Verb Counter: 735

Cain: You’re not Hawkeye. Or a Wizard, for that matter. Stop stealing other characters’ shticks.

“Ill getit!” Haymish sobered an went at dore to open an see Captain of Druggin Plane Wip Whittaker. Haymitch o-mouthed an yell “WIP WHITTAKER MY OLD FREND HOW U HEER?!?!”

Not a Verb Counter: 737

Ghostie: Captain of Drugging Plane” That’s his full title? Those must be some awkward business cards to hand out at parties.

“Hey Heyman I just ‘droped in’, lol” He said lollin wile point a the plane crash. He looked round an putted his eyeball back in (it was disrotted by the crash but the capitla has good medikals to fix it), “Got any drugs an beer?” Smacked Wipe.

Not a Verb Counter: 740

Ghostie: That’s how you got in this mess in the first place. Just say no, dude.

“Nope I cleened up my act to help Marrissa an Prime an Peeta Peeta Sandwich Eata win the Huntger Games.” Wip gotted a funny look on his fase like a mad or sumthin.

Not a Verb Counter: 742

Cain: Well, he did drug the engines of his plane, so I do have some questions about his sanity.

“tHEN can I use yur tolite I gotta make sum bowel bombs@#!”

Scatology Counter: 103

Syl: I know when I’ve narrowly escaped death and have an eyeball hanging out of my skull the first thing I like to do is take a good shit.

“Sure ites oln the left.” Wip sumpted down teh hall past me room an Primj an Peeta Peeta Sandwich Eatas rom. But instate of goin in the bath room he just keeped walkin till was at a other dore and opened it an goed in.

Not a Verb Counter: 746

Ghostie: He’s not going to poop on their beds, is he?

Cain: How does Marissa know this is happening? Is she eavesdropping on him while he goes to the bathroom?

Ghostie: That’s the power of the Sue Force. I hope.

Goddess: Or she took a page out my playbook and put cameras everywhere.

“OMG wat took u so long b****?” It was… ATLAS AN P-BODY7!!@ Atlas was lookin a at playboy mag an P=Body was snortin coak. “Sorry I had a littel turbalanse. So whats the down lo?” He say bissness time like becos it was serios bissness now.

Not a Verb Counter: 748

Ghostie: facepalms: Ugh. Not these two again. The only thing I liked about the recent chapters was their lack of drug-taking robots.

Cain: Wasn’t P-Body pregnant at some point? What happened with that?

Ghostie: I think she lost the baby because of all the drugs she was taking. Or possibly had an abortion, I can’t recall.

“Well… Pisient Snow

Cain: Who?

sad we gotta drug an beer up Haymith so hell not help that dum b**** Marrissa win teh games.” =-Body interoparted. “Sownds lick a plan!” An they all lolled with evil!!2

Not a Verb Counter: 750

Syl: This is not how you evil, darling. I’m insulted you would even use that word.

NEXT DAY

It was finlay time for the games. I was soo nervos but Bissness Man an Effie an Haymouth an Prim an Peeta Peeta Sandwich Eata all said “Dont worry Marrissa yur gonna win for show!” I smied at the brave words an I gotted on the standy thing.

Not a Verb Counter: 751

Goddess: *Snerk* Wheatley’s not here, Marissa. I know you miss him, but this is the wrong time for fantasies.

Ghostie: Ewww.

Cain: On another note, why are Prim and Peeta Peeta Sandw- I’m not going to finish that ridiculous name. Anyway, why are those two cheering her on? Only one person can win, either way.

Ghostie: I for one would welcome death if I was I a character in this fic.

“Hey u guys arent tributes!” A gaymaker

Cain: A what?

Ghostie: According to some, wearing pink and/or enjoying traditionally ‘feminine’ pursuits will do that to a guy. I think it’s a lot of nonsense, myself.

yelled at Teen Fortress 2!.

Cain: Motherfucker.

Syl: Who?

Cain: It’s a very long story, involving time travel, wolf-cyborg-humans, and machine guns being raped. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.

Ghostie: It doesn’t make any more sense in context, either. :flips back to previous chapter: I don’t remember them being on the list of Tributes.

“Yes we are.” Scot said. “Then wat distract are u?” “Distract 3” Smarted ingineer with quick. “Oh sum other guys said they was distract 3 earlier they must be imposiers Ill go kill them now.” Teen Fortress 2 did hi five an goed to there spoots.

Not a Verb Counter: 752

Cain: “Yes, I’m going to trust the word of these nine people claiming to be from a single district over that of the people who came here on Capitol-owned airships.”

Ghostie: They probably don’t care. At this point, even the characters want the fic over as quickly as possible.

“ALLRITE GUYS AN GIRLS ITS TIME. TO. HUNGER GAME!!!!231” A lowd said an we raisded up. “BE BRAFE MARRISSA YUR THE WORLDS ONLY HOPE!!” Hyamish shotted wat the the heck did that meen? I alsready saved the world from Assram an the zomboys!

Not a Verb Counter: 752

Ghostie: curls into a ball and whimpers: Not Assirram again.

Cain: Syl, you aren’t allowed to say anything about that name or I’m calling Agent [GREY] back in.

Syl: You’re a spoilsport, kitten.

Goddess: You forgot about me.

Cain: I’ll start telling stories about you from when you were a prudish teenager.

Syl: :snerk: What?

Goddess: Okay, okay, I’ll behave as long as you don’t elaborate on… that.

Cain: Deal.

Syl: You’re a spoilsport too, Bright Eyes.

Maybe he waws druggin an beerin a gane but I didant half time to think becos we were upped to Hunger Arenea..

I was a grassy wit

Not a Verb Counter: 754

Syl: :snorts: Not bloody likely.

sum forests an lakes. All teh tribeuts was in a circle round (LOL) a big mettle thing full a cannons an guns an weapons an food.

Ghostie: Sounds a little bit like the Library’s last yard sale. Crunchy made three hundred dollars and broke twelve international treaties.

I liked my lips

Cain: Not liking them was an option? For you, I mean. I don’t like any of you.

Goddess: I’d make a joke here, but someone is a spoilsport.

at all the tasty an weapons but I rembered that Haymish said to run but I wanted to get those.

Not a Verb Counter: 755

Ghostie: The tasty … weapons?

Sensual Crane came on the sky.

Cain: That sentence did not ever need to be written.

Goddess: Say it with me now. Spoilsport.

Ghostie: :leans over and covers Syl’s mouth with her hand:: Whatever you were going to say, don’t. AHHHHH! :shakes hand: Don’t lick me!

Syl: Everyone else was licking things, why not me?

“ALLRITE. GET REDDY TO FITE. IN FIVE. FORE. THREE. 2….. PONE11121211111111!!!!!”

Ghostie: Are they counting down in binary?

We all ranned towards the corpicone even tho Haymitch sat not to.

Cain: Yes, good. Increase your chances of death.

Peeta Peeta Sandwich Eata gotted a chainsawsword an slissed Remotey in to 2 halfs wile Primp strungled Pony Strongbad!

Not a Verb Counter: 758

Goddess: As opposed to cutting “Remotey” into three halves?

Ghostie: I don’t doubt it could happen, the fic’s author has proven to have questionable math skills in the past.

“************” Yellt Sweary Guy

Ghostie: I can’t help but picture someone shouting “ASTERISK!” over and over again at the top of their lungs.

as he fownd a bazooker an shot it at Heavy but he was soooooo fat the blast only hurt him a littel an he lolled so Sweary Guy had to run.

Not a Verb Counter: 760

Ghostie: I doubt even a whale would be fat enough to shrug off a bazooka hit at close range.

Fresh, the hooge black guy, was climin the cornicopter

Not a Verb Counter: 761

Cain: The what?

Syl: It’s a helicopter made of corn?

like King Kong an throwed nives at people to kill them. It was toooo dangeros so I had to leaf. I was runnin an runnin an runnin till I goat to a forest.

Not a Verb Counter: 766

Cain: That was… a lot of running.

Ghostie: And what was she doing with the goat? :reaches over and covers Syl’s mouth again: No licking this time.
Syl: grunts something that sounds suspiciously like “spoilsport”:

Cain: Not a word, Goddess.

Now it was on. I wold half to kill eberyone an get home to Wheatly an Chell Junor. Thins just gotted real…

Not a Verb Counter: 767

Cain: I doubt you’re capable of getting anything worse than a bittersweet ending, let alone one where more than one person we’re supposed to care about dies.

Ghostie: I want to know why it’s only now that everything this is “getting real” for her. It’s not as if the premise of the Games is a surprise, she knows the only way to survive is to kill everyone else. That’s kind of the whole point of the whole franchise.

TO BE CONTINUED!

THSI WAS A LUNG CAHPTER BECOS I WAS TIRED OF WAITIN FOR THE GAMES TO START, NEXT TIME HO WILL LIFE AN HO WILL DIE? FIND OUT NEXT TIME!

Not a Verb Counter: 768

Cain: You only now got tired of waiting for the games to start? I seriously doubt you have the attention span for that.

Ghostie: It’s not as if she, the author of this pile, could have gotten to this point sooner. I do have a prediction – Marissa survives. Unfortunately.

Goddess: This chapter wasn’t a complete waste, though. At least I have another story for my new “Sensual Crane” series, following a Wear-Crane and his lover as they fight Zombies.

Syl: You’ll CC me on that email, right?

Goddess: Of course. I’d planned to ask you to beta-read it, actually. I need another expert to make sure the scenes are… breathtaking enough.

Ghostie: Oh, my gods. This is the blind leading the blind.

Cain: Goodbye, Goddess. You’re leaving right now or I’m telling them the first story.

Goddess: I’m leaving! Don’t worry, I’m leaving! Love you all! *Disconnects*

Syl: :waves to Goddess: Bye, lovey!

Ghostie: And I’m changing the child-lock codes on the Library computers, Syl.

Syl: Like that ever works.

Cain: Syl, get off my ship.

Syl: :giggles: I love it when you say ‘get off’ like that.

Ghostie: grabs Syl’s arm: We’re going. Now.

Cain: I look forward to seeing you next time, Ghostie.

Ghostie: At least we don’t have to suffer alone, right?

Cain: Indeed. Goodbye!

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6 Comments on “1767: The Marissa Games – Chapter Nine”

  1. agigabyte says:

    Sensual Crane is still getting me.

    …Not like that!

  2. SC says:

    Why is the Not A Verb counter already so high? It’s only been nine chap-

    …Ah, Marissa The Writer. Everything makes sense now.

    • GhostCat says:

      There was actually some discussing between agig and myself as to if or when that counter would break a thousand. I think it can do it easily.

  3. TacoMagic says:

    in shok an Haymish an Peeta Peeta Sandich Eata an Effie an Bissness Man an Prim all sheered at me,

    BAA!?

    *Cerbs tries to hide behind Taco, which uncannily resembles a beach-ball trying to hide behind a pencil*

    Dude, you have nothing to worry about. There is very little market for knit wear that smells like burnt hair.

  4. CrunchyRaptor says:

    Ghostie: Sounds a little bit like the Library’s last yard sale. Crunchy made three hundred dollars and broke twelve international treaties.

    And two zoning ordinances!


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