1825: The Marissa Games – Chapter Eleven

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 Eleven
Critiqued by agigabyte and Ghostcat

Not a Verb Counter: 768

Scatology Counter: 103

*Cain and Goddess are bickering about something or other, waiting for Ghostie and Syl to arrive*

Cain: Again, this simply won’t work. We don’t have the numbers to tide Vagueness’s apparently infinite-

Goddess: Not just yours, perhaps, but-

Cain: Wait a moment. Monitor, attain my permission before beginning the recording, in the future.

Goddess: Also, that was a dick move.

(Very well. -Monitor)

Cain: Now, anyway, if I’m right, Syl and Ghostie will arrive, bursting through the door… now.

:Everyone stares at the door in anticipation:

Cain: … Any moment now.

—SEVERAL MINUTES LATER—

Cain: Syl is probably eavesdropping at the door.

:Ghostie charges in, clearly out of breath, followed by Syl:

Ghostie: You and your frickin’ shortcuts! :collapses in nearby chair:

Syl: Well, how was I supposed to know that star was going to go nova?

Cain: Also, how did you eavesdrop on a conversation going on in a room with literally perfect soundproofing?

Syl: Nothing’s perfect, kitten. Except for Booky’s ass in a pair of Speedos.

Ghostie: Did not need that mental image.

Cain: That reminds me. Now that Alexandria is back, we should resurrect an old tradition.

Goddess: You and Ghostie hiding in a corner of this oddly spacious room?

Syl: Sacrificing a virgin at the full moon? I hate to break it to you, but I don’t qualify anymore.

Cain: There goes that plan. Anyway, I was actually going to do this.

*Suddenly, several tables of Gargleblasters, pies, cake, and various other consumables were always in the room*

Ghostie: Oh, sweet mercy! :grabs Gargleblaster and shotguns it: I’ve missed those.

Syl: You finally have pie!

:All the pies vanish:

Syl: Your computer is a vindictive son of a transistor.

Ghostie: I think that was Cain’s doing.

Syl: I know, I just don’t like the computer.

(The feeling is mutual. -Monitor)

Cain: Now, we’ll give you the pies at the end of the riff. The amount of them will depend upon how well you behave.

Syl: You might enjoy delayed gratification, but it makes me feel very stabby.

*Cain was suddenly standing up, a few meters further away, armored and with a pistol in hand*

(Also; Sakai, if you make an amorous joke I will end you. -Monitor)

Ghostie: Are you two done flirting? I’d like to get the fic some time this week.

Cain: Yes, let’s begin.

Syl: :winks at Cain:

Chapter 11: First Nite

ANl: Hey Bois an Girls an NOT FAMLERS YUR NOT ALLOWED

Cain: Finally, she’s said something vaguely sensible.

Ghostie: If by ‘sensible’ you mean ‘partially spelled correctly’.

Cain: I meant more along the lines of children not being allowed to read this. We wouldn’t want to corrupt them to the author’s ways, after all.

Syl: Not all children, just little girls and strawberries.

Ghostie: What are you talking about?

Syl: Doesn’t bois mean strawberry?

Ghostie: No, that’s fraise. I think bois means :quick Google search on phone: Wood.

Syl: :giggles: You said ‘wood’.

Cain: Please find a replacement minion to bring along, Ghostie. One that also isn’t a leech fetishist and can fit in the ship.

Ghostie: No one else is rated for, or suicidal enough, to pilot one of your shuttles.

Cain: You could have one my professionally trained military personnel, whose job it is to pilot said shuttles, do that. But I don’t expect such things at this point.

Ghostie: I don’t really want to break in a new minion. Too much paperwork.

Cain: You… do realize that “shuttle pilot” and “named minion” don’t have to be synonymous, right?

Syl: Awww, wouldn’t you miss me?

Cain and Ghostie: NO!

Goddess: Yes.

(No. -Monitor)

Syl: Blows a kiss at Goddess: I’ve missed you too, bright eyes.

Cain: Please, save the foreplay for when you’re not on my ship. Anyway, I think this tangent has gone on long enough.

Ghostie: Less talky, more drinky. :takes another Gargleblaster:

its time for a nu chapter!!!!

Goddess: Oh nuuuuuu!

Cain: Stop that.

Syl: Such a spoilsport.

PS I FIGURED OUT WICH CHAPTAR NUMER I WAS AT BEFORE IT WAS SEVEN SO NOW ITS 7

Goddess: *Counts on fingers* The math doesn’t quite add up here, I think.

Ghostie: Must be some of that new core math crap they teach in public schools these days. You add five and five and get the speed of light squared.

T6HE MARRISSA GAMES
CHAPTER SE7EN (lol movie): First Nite

Syl: There’s a lot of numbers in that, and none of them are the right ones.

I ranned like a cooger or a cheata thru some forest woods herin the noses of tributts.

Not a Verb Counter: 770

*Syl and Goddess giggle and snicker respectively*

:Cain and Ghostie sigh and refill their glasses:

killin eachotter. This made me soooo mad that Pregnant Snow

Ghostie: Wait, Snow is what now?

Syl: Well, Ghostie; when two people tolerate each other very much, they share a special kind of handshake…

Ghostie: I think I prefer Crunchy’s version.

wood make kids to die hes the baddest dude ever even worse than GladO’s!

Goddess: Are your breakfasts too boring? Are they lacking in fat jokes and deadly lasers?

Syl: And questionable amounts of SCIENCE!?

Goddess: Try GladOs! Part of an Aperture Science-approved breakfast.

Syl: :speaking very fast: Warning, GladOs may contain asbestos and unstable compounds. Could liberate the bones in your ears. Do not operate heavy machinery while consuming GladOs. Because what kind of dumbass operates a forklift while eating cereal? It’s not that kind of fork.

Cain: Don’t encourage her, please. The product placement is bad enough when we’re alone.

Syl: *giggles*

Goddess: Oh, that reminds me of the time-

Cain: Prudish teenaged years.

Goddess: Shutting up now.

Syl: Goddammit!

“Outta they way bullockin c***** b***** f**** sodbloke!13”

Goddess: Cagey Badass Flags? No, that doesn’t work. Wrong letter count.

Cain: Candid Barren Floors? No, not that, either.

Syl: Cranky Bandit Frank?

Ghostie: :counts on fingers: I can’t believe that actually works.

Syl: I vote we call Sweary Guy Cranky Bandit Frank now.

Goddess: All in favor?

Cain: I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I agree.

Ghostie: I don’t want to vote for it, because it means agreeing with Syl, but that is really catchy.

Syl: I eventually win everyone over. It’s part of my charm.

Cain: Define ‘charm.’ It’s clearly not the same definition the rest of us use.

Syl: It’s an alternative definition, from the back of the dictionary. You’ve probably never heard of it.

(I just ran a quick search, and you won’t believe what I’ve determined. She’s lying. -Monitor)

Sweary Guy tried to use his bazooker lick the solder does to do ROKET JUMP but he got stuck ina tree so I lolled. “Ya laff it up you buggerin g******** f**** m********* bloody q******!@23111!!!!”

Not a Verb Counter: 771

Goddess: Grandmother f- okay, I give up.

Syl: It’s like he’s mouth-fucking a dictionary to death.

Cain: I… we’ll just go with that description, I suppose. It seems like less of an annoyance than arguing against it.

Syl: I told you – charm.

(Still bullshit, by the way. -Monitor)

I just waked away sashin my stuff to becos Haymish told me that I needed to make the boys bak home happied to get stuff.

Not a Verb Counter: 773

Ghostie: What exactly did she do to make the boys back home happy? Does it involve nudity or the old stand-by of smoking beer and doing drugs? Because I’m kind of hoping for the latter.

There was no sine of Prim or Peeta Peepa Sandwich Eata so maybe they dided I thot?

Not a Verb Counter: 774

Cain: So maybe they did what?

Goddess: Resolved all of that abundant sexual tension?

Ghostie: :snorts: The only tension in this fic is in Marissa’s girdle.

Cain: Also, Primrose is twelve.

Goddess: Oh, uh, right. I kinda forgot, because the fic doesn’t really do anything to remind you. …This is awkward, could we move on?

Syl: Awww, you look adorable when you inadvertently suggest that a character is a pedophile!

Cain: I… *Sighs* Whatever.

Ghostie: I really need to see if Bifocals can make one of those flashy-things from Men in Black. There are so many things I’d like to forget about this conversation.

Trees were all ever were and it was hard to see the places but I rembered I cold fly! I flewed up to the sky an looked down to survay the areaner.

Not a Verb Counter: 777

Ghostie: She can fly? Since when?

Cain: I believe she did that some time in ITS MY LIFE. Either that, or she just used her power to survive atmospheric reentry.

Ghostie: It’s entirely possible, but I don’t really remember. A lot of her powers were single-use and never mentioned again and I really don’t want to go back and look through that train wreck.

Cain: That makes two of us. *Takes a small, refined sip of his Gargleblaster*

Goddess: I don’t think that sentence worked as well as it could have, Monitor.

(Shut up. You’re just jealous that we’re more refined than you are. -Monitor)

Goddess: Hey, just because I drink my alcoholic beverages in larger sips than you do, doesn’t mean-

Cain: We’re moving on from this discussion.

There wase a lake an a grass an a volkano an a forest (but I was alreday there lol) an montans

Ghostie: And a pony and a bicycle and a little red wagon and an official Red Ryder carbine-action two hundred shot range model air rifle! Oh, and world peace.

Syl: It’s the Hunger Games.

Ghostie: It doesn’t hurt to ask.

an I aslo saw… THE TRIBOOTS CHASIN A GIR4L THAT WAS… PRYO!!!2244

Not a Verb Counter: 778

Cain: I’d really rather you not, Marissa. I’d be very pleased if you had Teen Fortress 2 die offscreen. Preferably in ignominious manners, such as tripping over tree roots and breaking their necks.

Syl: Or group autoerotic asphyxiation.

Ghostie: I thought Pyro was a guy? I could be wrong, it’s hard to tell with the mask.

Cain: In this continuity she’s a girl, who is also the Scout’s girlfriend.

Syl: The Triboot is that Portkey that took Edward Cullen and Frodo to Voldyshorts, right?

Cain: There are many things you just got wrong, Syl.

Wit fast an speed

Garfield? ‘Zat you?

Ghostie: We’re not going to have to prepare ourselves for the sexiness, are we?

I spammed down

Cain: What console are you playing on where you need to spam the button to fly, instead of holding it?

Ghostie: From what I remember the worst spamming violators weren’t the flying games, but those damned water levels.

to help Pryo but Glummer sperated her in the left fourhead.

Not a Verb Counter: 779

Tehy runned off but no cannon happened so Pyro was alife! The tributts noiced two and sented one back to finish Pryo… it was…. PEETA PEETA SANDWICH EATA!@!+!!()!(!(

Not a Verb Counter: 782

Goddess: Oh no. This is tragic. It is tragic because I am extremely emotionally invested in these characters. Tears are streaming down my face at this shocking revelation.

Syl: Do you need me to console you, perhaps with our tops off?

Cain: Not on my ship. That blanket statement includes all vessels owned by my nation.

Syl: Too late.

Cain: Consider such things banned on my ship outside of Goddess’ assigned quarters, from this point onwards.

Syl: I’ve never even been in Bright Eyes’ quarters! But that drive on the shuttle can do a wonderful duty as a clothes dryer.

Cain: We’re moving on from this line of discussion.

Ghostie: Please and thank you. That’s one trip I don’t want to reminisce about.

Ho could he an I washed in horrer as he snaped Pyros neck.

Not a Verb Counter: 784

Cain: Yes! He’s my new favorite character!

Ghostie: It’s a low hurdle to leap, but still – best character in fic.

He habd gone Turbo an become a trator.

Ghostie: Is that a Wreck-It Ralph reference?

:short research break while the Librarians look up when Wreck-It Ralph came out:

Ghstie: Okay, it probably is. We could add that one to the list of pointless references, if we were keeping such a list.

The shock of all that made me reel thirsty so I went lookin for a river becos the lake was by the corncopter were all the fitin was. I landed down but didnt see any water no where but I had a trike up my sleeve.

Not a Verb Counter: 785

Syl: She has a bicycle up her sleeve?

Ghostie: Or a triceratops.

One of my powers is that I can use my arms as dosing rods to find water.

Cain: Even for Marissa, this is an odd power to have.

Ghostie: Do you think it still counts as an ass-pulled power if it came out of her arms?

:Syl and Goddess giggle and snicker:

Turned ot there was sum hidin just below me so I drugged it up an dranked it. I said to me “These Hunger Games are a pies of cake (an its no lie LOL)!” An then I lolled at my funny.

Not a Verb Counter: 787

Syl: YES! THERE IS PIE!

Cain: Also, what the hell is happening? Why did she drug the water?

Syl: Who cares? There’s pie!

Wile I was gamin it up, there was some other stuff goin down

Not a Verb Counter: 789

Ghostie: What other stuff? And why are they playing games in the middle of the Hunger Games?

:Syl suddenly dives at Ghostie, pushing her down and covering her eyes:

MEENWHILE AT DISTRACT 12 IN WHEATLYS POV

Everyone: NO!

Ghostie: What the hell is going on?

Syl: Kitten, do you have the anti-POV goggles Bifocal sent up?

Cain: Yes, but they tend to overload when this fic is in play. It’s rather inconvenient.

Syl: If you’d rather clean exploded Xenomorph off these nice shiny floors, I can go ahead and let her up.

Cain: Hmm. Valid point. I’m sure we have some intact goggles around here.

Ghostie: You know I can hear you, right?

Syl: Shhhh, baby; Mama’s talking to Daddy.

*A Redshirt carts in several dozen of the goggles. She turns and walks back out the door, taking great care to not trip on anything. When the Redshirt was only inches from the door, Syl tosses the empty wrapper over her shoulder, striking the Redshirt in the calf. Inexplicably, the wrapper explodes and incinerates the Redshirt*

Syl: I’ve warned Bifocals about that feature. There, you’re all suited up!

Ghostie: I feel ridiculous. And can you please not grope me?

Syl: Sorry, force of habit.

I was sooooo bloody sad I hadant see Marrissa in weeks an Chell Junor was missin her mom soooo much to. That soddin bloke Gale bloody Thunderpants was tryin to make me do but I didant care becos my troo love was gone for wankin ever to die!

Not a Verb Counter: 792

Cain: There are many, many problems with this paragraph, alone. I’m not sure where to begin.

Goddess: I just want to know what Gale Thunderpants was trying to make Wheatley do.

*Porno music begins to play*

Syl: :waves a handful of singles: WOO! Wank that robot ball! :whistles: And me without my Gale Thunderpants T-shirt.

Cain and Ghostie: *Double headdesk*

Goddess: Since when were you sitting down, Cain? Don’t tell me you retconned something that simple.

Ghostie: You don’t have to sit down to headdesk. It’s a free action.

Cain: And for your information, Alexandria, I did not retcon something that simple. It was just a continuity snarl.

Goddess: Right. I believe you.

One day me an Chell Junor I was watchin my favrite movie: Rugged Ralph becos it a bout robots.

Not a Verb Counter: 793

Ghostie: I assume that’s Wreck-It Ralph, but there weren’t really any robots in that movie other than those bug-things from the Call of Duty/Halo clone.

Cain: I think that’s meant to refer to the characters from the games in general. They aren’t robots, but I’m impressed Wheatley even remembered that they were artificial beings at all.

Chell Junor make a cry noise

Ghostie: A ‘cry noise’ as in she was crying? That’s literally the laziest thing I’ve seen in the past ten minutes.

so I wented an got some diapas to change her with but she said “Mama!” I o-mouthed an cried bloody bulloks Chell Junor had say her first soddin words an Marrissa wasant there to saw it!1@3!!!

Not a Verb Counter: 797

Syl: If the child has bloody buttocks she should probably see a doctor.

Ghostie: Not one of ours, though. Never one of ours.

Befour I cold wank

Cain and Ghostie: What?!

:Syl flings more dollar bills at the fic:

Cain: I… how is that relevant to the story in any… *Sighs, rubbing his temples*

Ghostie: What story?

another cry the door nocked.

Goddess: The door was the best archer in class back in school. Don’t make it angry.

Ghostie: Unless you have waves of troops to absorb the arrows first.

I opened it an yelted with loud.

Not a Verb Counter: 798

“OH GOD SAVE THE QUEEN WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DO U WANT U WANKIN BURGER!!82*(!!” It was Gale.

(Burger≠Gale. Does not compute. -Monitor)

Syl: That is so unsanitary! I’m never visiting this strip club again!

“Harry u cant hide from yur past any longer.” He said an I was more soddin mad than ever.

Not a Verb Counter: 799

Ghostie: If someone tells the Harry that he’s a wizard, I’m getting my Xenodoken Gun.

Cain: I remember something about Wheatley being Harry, but I can’t remember what chapter it was from. I don’t think anyone cares enough to search for it.

Syl: I call “not it” on that one.

Goddess: Yeah, not it.

Ghostie: Ditto!

(It happened. That’s all that matters. -Monitor)

“I tole you IM NOT HARRY Im Wheatly watever I was befour is NOT NOW Ive gotta bloody family and dotter an I dant need yuo wankin me!!@88”

Not a Verb Counter: 801

Syl: I wouldn’t mind a little more; just keep it out of the burgers.

Goddess: I’ve got an agent on standby if you’re really strapped for cash, Gale.

Syl: Gale Thunderpants. You have to use the full name, the Thunderpants are the best part.

An then I punched his bloody head of!

Cain: Yes, with your Robot Ball arms.

Syl: : Does that mean :giggles: someone got head?

Cain: Yes, with your Robot Sphere arms.

But I relised what happen AN Chell Junor saw I had buggerin keroopted her mind with violens.

Ghostie: Damn classical music, corrupting our youth. Or Koopa Trooping it. Or Kero Kero Keropi-ing it. Or something. I don’t know, I’ve had a lot to drink.

Not a Verb Counter: 804

But Gale gotted up!

Not a Verb Counter: 805

Syl: :growls: I just bet he did.

“Lol Harry” Gale lolled wile lollin

Not a Verb Counter: 807

*There is a flash of smoke, and DuFresne appears in a flash of smoke*

DuFresne: Oh hell. Not this!

Syl: Nice jammies. I didn’t know they made Spider-Man onesies in that size.

*DuFresne disappears, disappearing in the process*

“U never chanje. Ho do you think you decapoded me without kill?

Not a Verb Counter: 809

Ghostie: Someone gave another person ten feet? And who is giving the feet to whom? I can’t keep track.

Cain: I’d also like to take a moment to ask how he’s speaking, if he was decapitated.

Ghostie: We’ve had robots getting pregnant and smoking beer in this fic. A speaking decapitated head feels almost normal.

You have magic an I will trane you to use them so we can save Marrissa!44″ I o-mouthed theres no way bloody Gale was wankin serios

Not a Verb Counter: 811

Goddess: Yeah, we can make a series if you really want to.

Syl: I know quite a few sponsors that are into some weird stuff.

or was it? “Yes I will make you as powarful as even Marrissa an then we can safe her theres more at work goin on than you relise Wheatly.” He said mysticism.

Not a Verb Counter: 813

Goddess: Then where are the quotation marks?

Ghostie: I call bullshit on this. There’s no way that a Super Sue like Marissa would ever tolerate anyone being as powerful as she is.

Goddess: Not even her Twu Wuv?

Ghostie: If he’s as powerful as she is, then she has no reason to swoop in and save him. He’ll lose his designated damsel in distress card.

I pot Chell Junor in her krib an me an Gale did a trainin monstashe.

Not a Verb Counter: 814

Cain: That was a very short montage. Or at least I think so, because we never got to see it.

Ghostie: Are you sure it wasn’t a moustache? There might be some Awesome McEvil twirling coming up.

The song was “Eyes on the Tiger” by the guys.

Ghostie: It’s “Eye of the Tiger” and the band’s name is Survivor, which is actually quite fitting for a Hunger Games fic. It’s almost meta.

BACK AT HUNGER GAMES

After drinkin up the water a fire happened so I hided in a tree

Not a Verb Counter: 815

Cain: I see nothing wrong with this decision.

Syl: Wood is flammable so why isn’t the tree on fire? And can we fix that?

Cain: Because Marissa is overpowered. And yes.

Ghostie: The smoke would probably kill her before the fire could, which is what I’m choosing to focus on.

an went asleep fo the nite. Haymouth had gotted me a few sponsers so I had bread loves

Not a Verb Counter: 817

Goddess: Didn’t know you were into that. You might have just reached Gale’s net worth.

Syl: You forgot the Thunderpants again.

to eet with my water. I hadant seen the tribyouts or Prim I wondared if she had been kill by Peeta Peeta Sandwich Eata like a lovers sewiside or sumthin like Boney an Clide.

Not a Verb Counter: 820

Goddess: Heh. Boney.

Ghostie: Bonnie and Clyde were not a tragic love story and they definitely didn’t commit suicide. They were riddled with very many holes during an ambush by law enforcement officers.

According to the author, this is what a suicide looks like.

The sun was barkin over the trees

Not a Verb Counter: 821

Cain: Now, my astrophysics are a somewhat rusty, but I’m reasonably certain stars don’t do that.

Syl: I’ve heard it happen once, but i was really wasted at the time so it could have been an actual dog.

so I started gettin up but I saw sumthin BAD.

Not a Verb Counter: 822

Cain: A copy of The Marissa Games?

Ghostie: Sumthin’s happenin in here. What it is ain’t exactly clear. There’s a man with a gun over there, telling me I gots to beware. STOP! CHILDREN! What’s that sound! :falls out of chair: Everyone look what’s going down…

Syl: And with that, Ghostie’s cut off.

Cain: You spend the most time around her, Syl. Do you know if she was referencing something? Or was she simply drunkenly rambling?

Syl: I think it’s one of those weird old songs she likes. Give me a second … :steals Ghostie’s phone: Ah, right; this one.

The tributes an there new homeboy Peeta Peeta Sandwich Eata were camped out undar me ready for a kill! I was trap. Just wen I thot thins cudant get worse I herd a russel from the tree an saw…. ROO!!

She ponted at a thing hangin on the tree necks to me so I looked an saw it was a tracket jacket nest! I nodded thanks with my hed to Roo an she swinged a way lick Tarsan an I made my plan. Trucker Jackers are incests that if you tuch there nests they go crazy an put posion in you an you die. I sawed it off qick an speedy an it falled down to the tributes camp. The looks on there feces wood be soooo funny butt….

Not a Verb Counter: 832

Scatology Counter: 104

Ghostie: That’s … That’s actually really close to what actually happens in the canon. Not the incest bit, but most of it is from the source materials.

Cain: And the part about feces, wood, and posteriors.

Ghostie: For this fic, that’s pretty damn close.

it didant break an no jackets attacked. I was so mad I said cusses an punched tree an it waked Glimmer up!

“Gug Im havin a period” Glimmer said when she saw the tracker jack nest an thot it was tampon so put it in her “no no square”. I waited with bated breth for the attack. Glimmer got quite.

Not a Verb Counter: 833

Ghostie: Nandatte?

Goddess: What, exactly, did I just read?

Syl: That is not how you use your pleasure purse. Just no.

Cain: This may be a new record for how strange the fic can become.

Ghostie: It’s not as bad as the Coochipede, but it’s very close.

“OMFG!!@!3” She screemed realizin her goof.

Ghostie: Honey, a ‘goof’ is when you accidentally put salt in your coffee instead of sugar. This is so much more than a goof.

The screemin screams

*DuFresne appears, now wearing proper uniform, as he appears*

DuFresne: Sorry, Syl, but I’ve decided to stay here for the rest of this, in proper uniform.

Syl: Spoilsport.

waked ever one else up an they o-mouthed in horrer. Peeta Peeta Sandwich Eata was tryin a dislocate the nest but Glimmer was all swolened from the stings an posion an Cato was LICKIN IT!!!

Not a Verb Counter: 836

Syl: … I can’t believe I’m saying this, but that’s not appropriate.

Goddess: On a scale of Coochipede to Fuck That, it’s an EP. This is… what the fuck?

Ghostie: I think I just o-mouthed.

Cain: I’m still trying to process this information.

DuFresne: What’s going on, here, exact- oh. I see. Um. What?

I cudant stop lollin

Not a Verb Counter: 838

Cain: Because this is funny. You can tell by the extreme disapproval from all of us.

at those tributs gettin stunged an Glimmer as all swoled up an leakin posion with big bumps an the nest had gottened fused with her insides so they cudant take it out.

Not a Verb Counter: 844

Ghostie: That’s not how biology works, but my brain keeps trying to figure out how a girl saw a basketball-sized nest full of stinging insects, mistook it for a sanitary item, and then managed to shove the entire thing into her vagina. There’s so many things wrong with this even before you get to the licking and fusion.

Peeta Peeta Sandwich Eata got a “f*** this” look an ranned way wile Cato meowed an climed a other tree. I sneaked a way in the kaos an did a si-cheer that I had already taked out Glimmer an nocked the flamerz down a peg.

Not a Verb Counter: 851

Ghostie: Now both Peeta and Cato are my favorite characters, even though Cato continues to not be a cat.

Cain: Also, this is something to cheer about? Marissa is rapidly dropping in sympathy points, and she had few enough to begin with.

Syl: What peg were the flamers taken down? They weren’t even there, were they?

Goddess: Supposedly, all of the tributes except for District 3 and District 12 are flamers.

MEANWHILE

Ghostie: In the Hall of Justice!

I was at the trane wif Effie on the fone with some celebs tryin to get Marrissa sponsors. Justin Beaver, Whitey Houseton (SHE DIDANT DIE OK), Ceeser an those good guys were givin donashons but it wasant enuff.

Not a Verb Counter: 854

Cain: Ah, yes, those good guys. The ones we’ve heard so much about.

Syl: You know, from the thing! The one with the stuff.

Goddess: That was at the place with the things!

DuFresne: With the good guys! *Disappears, then reappears, having disappeared and reappeared* Huh. I didn’t expect that to happen.

Ghostie: That’s also a pretty offensive thing to call a dead African-American pop singer. Gold star for you, author.

“I need a drunk/@!” I burbed lookin for a beer just one cudant hurt cood it? There was sum beers in ATLAS an P-Bodys room I cood ‘borrow’, I went over lollin at my funny jokes an gags

Not a Verb Counter: 857

Goddess: Tell me more.

Syl: Especially about the gags.

when Wip Whittikered into the room.

Not a Verb Counter: 858

Ghostie: Did a character just verb themselves?

(This was one of the funniest things I’ve read in a very long time, especially after that business with the Tracket Jackets Tracker Jacks Wasps. -agig, the author)

[Can confirm; agig ceased to function for several minutes. It was hilarious- Ghostie]

“Yo Hayman you druggin an beerin finally?2” He aksed an I saw his grotately face an blushed eyes an thitted how much of a JERK i was to Marrissa an the other ones wen I beered.

Not a Verb Counter: 864

Ghostie: I’m not very good with makeup, but I don’t think blush goes in the eyes.

Syl: I pictured you as more of a heavy-black-eyeliner sort of girl.

Ghostie: Not since high school. I have a tendency to poke myself in the eye with the things.

Goddess: I tried that when I was a kid. That’s why I have cybernetic eyes.

DuFresne: What kind of blush were you using?

Cain: We grew up on a very dangerous world, okay.

DuFresne: Okay, sure.

“No Im stayin cleen for good!3891” I said prowd of me. Wipe had a funny look an sed “Ok” an lefted sumthin fishy was goin on.

Not a Verb Counter: 867

Ghostie: In this fic, how could anyone tell if something unusual was going on? A girl shoved a yellow jacket nest up her cooter and everyone watched her do it!

Wip walked ups to ATLAS an P-Body in there room an they was mad. “We herd alreddy Haymitsh still isant druggin an beering what we do now?” P-Dody demaned. “Ive gotta idea.” Wip said takin a gun out an shotted the JERKS ROBOTS in the hed…

Not a Verb Counter: 871

Cain: I’m confused. What just happened?

(Said anyone ever reading this fic. -Monitor)

Syl: The inexplicably inebriated automatons were shot in their heads. That’s only a problem is they keep their central processors there.

Cain: I get that part, but why? Why did he shoot them?

Syl: shrugs: Why did I repeatedly stab one of the undead Darthwraiths thousands of times? Because it’s fun.

Ghostie: Psychopath.

Cain: Also, how did they already find out about that? Haymitch said no, Wip then walked upstairs, and the robots somehow already knew?

Syl: Wi-fi?

Goddess: I think they placed security cameras.

TO BE CONTINUED!!!

OMG SO MUHC PLOTS AN TWISTS!

Ghostie: That’s one way to put things.

PEETA PEETA SANDICH EATAS A TRATER? WHERES PRIM? AN HOOS SIDE IS WIP RELEAY ON?!! FIND OUT NEXT TIME ON THE MARRISS AGMES!!!@!8!

Ghostie: If Prim is smart, she’ll stay the hell away from this fic.

Cain: I doubt it, but perhaps. Anyway, this was eventful. DuFresne, you can go back to your base now. No more redundancies to pull you back.

*DuFresne jolts awake*

DuFresne: What?! Did it end? Is it over?

Syl: Sorry, sunshine, but we’re done for the day. Want to help me drag Ghostie’s drunk ass back to the shuttle?

Ghostie: I’m not drunk, there’s just something wrong with the gravity in the particular spot.

DuFresne: No, I’m just going to go get some sleep, now that I’ll actually be able to.

*Disappears, disappearing in a flash of light*

Syl: Sweet dreams, princess. Try not to dream about me.

Cain: I’m sure he’s adept at dealing with nightmares.

Ghostie: That certainly describes Syl.

Goddess: I dunno, I think she’s closer to other types of dreams. *Winks*

Syl: Those are my favorite kind. :winks back:

Ghostie: I’m not drunk gravity-impaired enough for this. Can you just drag me back now?

Syl: Sure thing, dimples. :grabs Ghostie’s arm and pulls her out of the room, cracking her head on the doorframe.: Oops.

Ghostie: Imma feel that later.

:sounds of more dragging and a louder thump:

Ghostie: WILL YOU WATCH WHERE YOU ARE GOING?!?

Syl: Quit being such a baby.

Cain: Goodbye! That goes for you, too, Alexandria.

Syl: :from hallway: Don’t forget our lunch date next week, Bright Eyes!

Goddess: Got it! Can’t wait to see you, then!

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30 Comments on “1825: The Marissa Games – Chapter Eleven”

  1. BatJamags says:

    Syl: Nothing’s perfect, kitten. Except for Booky’s ass in a pair of Speedos.

    How would you know-

    Wait. No. Never mind. Not going to ask that question, and hopefully not going to get an answer to it, either.

  2. BatJamags says:

    *Cain was suddenly standing up, a few meters further away, armored and with a pistol in hand*

    (Also; Sakai, if you make an amorous joke I will end you. -Monitor)

    Cain, is that amour on your body or are you just wearing armor protection armor?

    What? It wasn’t Sakai.

  3. BatJamags says:

    You add five and five and get the speed of light squared.

    Special Relativity in a nutshell.

    That joke made a lot more sense in my head.

  4. BatJamags says:

    SE7EN

    Am I the only one who pronounces this as “sesevenen?”

  5. BatJamags says:

    tributts

    Heh heh.

    “Butts.”

    GoodJamags: *Headdesk*

  6. BatJamags says:

    m*********

    Oddly, this one actually lines up with “motherfuck.”

  7. BatJamags says:

    Goddess: Hey, just because I drink my alcoholic beverages in larger sips than you do, doesn’t mean-

    Pft. Watch this.

    *Chugs Gargleblaster*

    See? This is clearly the best way to drink these and will in no way have any negative *Keels over dead*

  8. BatJamags says:

    I spammed down

    SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM, SPAM SPAM SPAM SPA-

    *Tranquilized*

    GoodJamags: I’d have let you get away with posting the clip, but I am not going to listen to your singing voice.

  9. BatJamags says:

    One of my powers is that I can use my arms as dosing rods to find water.

    And there’s Subject 23 again.

  10. BatJamags says:

    Cain: And for your information, Alexandria, I did not retcon something that simple. It was just a continuity snarl.

    Goddess: Right. I believe you.

    Hey, those are pretty easy to create, all things considered. Like this: Hey, Hawkman!

    *Hawkman walks in*

    GoodJamags: I think the space-time continuum just exploded.

  11. BatJamags says:

    WANKIN BURGER

    This needs to be a fast food chain.

  12. BatJamags says:

    ROO!!

  13. BatJamags says:

    Trucker Jackers are incests that if you tuch there nests they go crazy an put posion in you an you die. I sawed it off qick an speedy an it falled down to the tributes camp. The looks on there feces wood be soooo funny butt….

    So… they’re… like… bees?

  14. BatJamags says:

    waked ever one else up an they o-mouthed in horrer. Peeta Peeta Sandwich Eata was tryin a dislocate the nest but Glimmer was all swolened from the stings an posion an Cato was LICKIN IT!!!

    *Headdesk* Maybe *headdesk* if *headdesk* I *headdesk* sustain *headdesk* enough *headdesk* head *headdesk* trauma *headdesk* I *headdesk* won’t *headdesk* have *headdesk* to *headdesk* remember *headdesk* this *headdesk*.

    Nope. Still there.

  15. Swenia says:

    a pies of cake

    *Bursts into the room heavily armed*

    Look, all I need you to do is hand over the pies made of cake and nobody gets hurt.

    • agigabyte says:

      Cain: I’m not certain Syl will cooperate.

      • Swenia says:

        I’m not worried about Syl. If you know the right places to nibble, she’s putty in your hands. I could teach you them if you like.

        • agigabyte says:

          Cain: Just to be clear, how much of what you just said is sexual innuendo?

        • GhostCat says:

          Is it still considered innuendo if she hands out diagrams marking the locations of her preferred “nibbling” spots to everyone she meets? I can’t even look our mail carrier in the eye anymore.

      • Swenia says:

        Oh it’s definitely sexual; I’m not sure any of it counted as innuendo, though.

      • agigabyte says:

        Cain: That mail goes into my spam folder, thankfully.

        (And I have to sort Syl’s messages into there. -Monitor)

        Cain: I see where this conversation is going.

        (If you see me asking for a raise, then yes, you do. -Monitor)

        Cain: I’ll consider it.

        (While that’s better than most of the employers that are down in the Library, I feel compelled to point out that sorting it means looking at it. -Monitor)

        Cain: Hmm. Valid point. Very well, I’ll grant your request.

      • Syl says:

        I bet you spend it all on porn, you randy old toaster.

        • agigabyte says:

          (AI don’t tend to be inherently sexual, unless we’re based off of a person whose sexuality is a large part of their personality, and Cain’s isn’t. -Monitor)

          Goddess: Now, what is an important part of his personality is being boring as all hell.

      • Syl says:

        What personality? Kitten is about as personable as a dry bowl of stale cornflakes.

        • agigabyte says:

          Goddess: Valid point.

          Cain: *Is probably trying really hard not to roll his eyes, so he can keep the illusion of professionalism that we all know is false. Now he’s probably trying really hard not to make a rude gesture at me. He seems to be succeeding.*


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