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Capture The Flag


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I 'writhe on', but more in the style of 'Right on brother' from a 70's movie...

I disco dance my way through the bear traps into the 80's then I Moonwalk into the nineties before using the 'running man' to get me through the 90's and back into the correct Century where I find you doing the Harlem Shake in Croatia (Must be the Harlem Globetrotter Shake!?). Whilst in a state of epileptic yet euphoric dancing I take on the roll of the 'dude with a mask who ambles along slowly to the music whilst being ignored by all around him' and slip into your world of hedonistic dancers and sin.

I consider staying a while to fulfill some pleasures of the flesh myself but my resolve is strong, I rhythmically head towards the flag, grab it and run. You see this all happen but you are unable to chase me as you are consumed by the shake and unable to leave the ecstasy created by the beat and writhing bodies that surround you.

Edited by Junior Chubb
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You should really look where you're going, instead of at Helens Ginormica sized booty. Not that it's not lovely, but you'd still have all your teeth 'cuz I just bashed you across the mouth, old chicago style, with a baseball bat.

Shake it like a polaroid picture, Helen.

Flag is mine

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:lol: You’re both sick.

Let me call an ambulance for you. No, no, no, don’t you worry, it’s a real one, not one of those that collect drunk tourists and disassemble them into spare parts, much like Japanese do with whales.

Only whales are slightly bigger than an average American, but then again, whaling ship is slightly bigger than an ambulance.

So it’s all fair.

Have a drink while we wait, it’s free. And you get one free drink for each free drink you drink.

Works every time.

I’ll take your wrist watches, phones, wallets, flags, any gold teeth? no... OK, it’s rare nowadays but it doesn’t hurt to take a look... for safekeeping, of course... bye, boys :st

Your futile existences just got the purpose, I just got my flag back.

Edited by Helen of Annoy
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sets helen's tentacles on fire and call on the town's people for bbq

and as helen trying to put off the fire on her head burying her head in pig farm mud

i steal the flag and take off on my black wooden horse

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Listen, you, I don’t have testi...oh, tentacles. Oh, oh, OK. Forget this.

Wood is flammable too *knocks on your head, enjoys the echoing for a while*

Fire brigade soaked us all in water and foam, so I seized the flag while everyone was taking part in sudden foam-party and rode into sunset on the fire engine with no name.

Actually, that wasn’t exactly so, the fire engine was called Moist Bertha... what do you care why, that's not relevant to the story. Move along.

My flag.

Edited by Helen of Annoy
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Why'd you have to bring Bertha into this, I told you, it was only one time...

Although, watching you slip inna foam was funny as hell.

I'll just take my flag, as you bounce down the street.

Flag is mine.

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Rubber soles didn’t save you from slipping on the same foam. Since your butt is rubber clad too, you slid even further than expected. Cape flapping behind you, so you can say you went in style.

(He didn’t want to let the flag go at first, so I had to step on his fingers a little. It hurt my delicate feet more than it hurt you, trust me.)

To each their own: your embarrassment, my flag.

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Realizing that my sliding in the foam is actually aiding in my escape, I snatch the flag away from you with a batgrapple, and slide my rubber clad butt away to freedom.

While you, my dear Helen, just keep bouncing up and down like a giant basketball made out of cottage cheese.

Flag is mine.

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It wasn’t me you saw bouncing up and down, it was your uncle Harkonnen who came to take you home and stop embarrassing the family.

I also found this knife and I believe it belongs to you so here *throws knife* *hits you in the eye*

Never p*** off people who had carnies for babysitters.

My flag.

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"Why no, Officer. She's usually quite docile. Well, at least when she's not drinking. Then she's mean, she hits me, throws knives at me, steals my things. I'm sorry..., I need a second...You have to understand, it's been in the family for generations. For her to just up and steal it, just boggles the mind. Yes, I understand. Thank you for returning my property. Oh, you have her in custody, and the restraining order is in effect. 500 feet, you say, yes, thank you again.

Flag is mine(and Helen has to stay 500 feet away at all times, how you like me now, Squidhead?)

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You better run to the nearest US embassy with your passport at ready because restraining order means something completely else in my neck of woods. Deep, dark, primordial woods. Where bodies do not decompose because wild life is faster and ever hungry.

Speaking of ever hungry, meet Žderonja, local trash collector, my great-uncle and yes, he’s also a bear and if you ask anything I’ll yell you’re racist, if you try to fight him I’ll yell you’re an animal abuser.

So while you suffer bear hugs in silence, I’ll take my flag, thank you, climb up the church bell tower and wave my flag from there. Try anything and I’ll yell you’re stopping me from celebrating my cultural identity.

Check, check and checkmate.

Edited by Helen of Annoy
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Bat bear repellant, mixed with female hatopus pheromones.

And I'm fairly certain that the hatopus doesn't like loud noises, much like spidey's black pajamas. So ringing the churchbell while joining you in your celebration isn't doing anything bad, how would I know that the hatopus would take off in several directions at once(Man that never gets old)

I'll just take my flag as you try and pry the hatopus off your uncle.

King me, never think chess while you're playing checkers.

Flag is mine

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how would I know that the hatopus would take off in several directions at once(Man that never gets old)

:yes:

Fortunately, to play checkers in bat’s family means to check yourself in mental hospital. They do that routinely. Yearly dentist check – check, weekly STD check – check, now, when was the last time I was to mental hospital? Oh, right after uncle Clovis checked under name Clothilda? Aha, it’s my turn this year.

And this year they had to add kleptomania to the looooong list of bat’s disorders. He stopped clinging to my flag after cocktail of sedatives and muscle relaxants, which cocktail is also the reason why he’ll need to wear diapers for a while.

The flag is mine.

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With the thread lying dormant for 3 day's I see your vigilance start to wane...

I nonchalantly stroll past you and take the flag.

The flag is now mine.

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I pick Helen up(with a small crane ,built for just such an event) ,and slam her "ginormical" (is that a word ,even ?) ass onto Chubbs head . His head vanishes completely into its nether regions ,and will most likely need surgical intervention to be extricated . Lyle takes this opportunity to finally flee from Helen's tyrannical incarceration ,and he disappears into numerous directions .

Helens wails bring Batty running over to check out the carnage . He's laughing so hard ,he doesn't even notice me pick up the flag,and just walk away .

Admit it . Y'all missed me .

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I missed you so much you’re forgiven for touching my flag.

Did I say "forgiven"?

Ah, I meant to say forgotten, locked inside tool shed in which you entered following trail of leftover chocolate Easter eggs.

Almost like in a fairytale. Simbi handed my flag over to me through a crack in the door in exchange for her freedom. Next time I’ll lure you in the septic tank but at least you'll know better than to hand over your only ticket out before you were let out.

My flag.

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Helen has s o much dandruff ,that it sprinkles down where ever she goes. There's a pile in her kitchen ,that has actually begun to show signs of life .The radiation from her microwave is said to alter its DNA .

It attacked her one morning while she was eating oatmeal .

The dandruff thought she was killing and eating its babies ....

She's still in the hospital in traction .

Flag is mine .

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You have underestimated both my dandruff and me.

The call of DNA can’t be silenced with microwaves. In other words, you brought enough of my dandruff on my flag to qualify as sort of Trojan horse.

My dandruff held quick counsel and reached conclusion that you are the primary enemy while they can negotiate with me because we are family, dysfunctional but family and after all, screw family that is not dysfunctional, they never have anything interesting going on.

Later the dandruff tribe will be able to rethink the oatmeal massacre and see it was not dandrufficide, but elaborate plot designed to divide and conquer us.

So dandruffies, being blessed with natural gift of strategic thinking, inherited from their mother, who else, crept silently into your room at night and jumped in your open mouth, evading skilfully uvula flapping in rhythm of your snoring, holding on to papillae on your tongue when gushes of air expelled by snoring were threatening to blow them away, forming mass of wet dandruff on suicide mission of blocking your airway.

They will never be forgotten. *minute of silence for my fallen dandruff*

The only survivor, the one chosen to tell the tale and bring me my flag back, was decorated with Silver Comb with Crossed Hairs medal.

The flag is, naturally, mine.

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  • 4 weeks later...

Too long have you held the flag...

Well to be honest it took a month to read your dandruff laden yarn from start to finish. ;)

Brandishing a water pistol loaded with Head & Shoulders I infiltrate your lair and take out your final piece of 'Hero Dandruff' with a quick squirt. With your defences down and fearing I will decimate the new batch of dandruff you are currently nurturing you pass me the flag...

I make a clean get away as for now, the flag is mine.

As well as the Silver Comb with Crossed Hairs medal.

Edited by Junior Chubb
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*points hairdryer to your head*

I thought so. Everyone’s hero until it’s time to have your hair messed up.

Well, in Junior's case it's not about hair but aqualish phobia of dry skin. Anyway, my flag.

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I am so impressed by you remembering I am Aqualish that I will let you keep the flag....

for now ;)

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As Helen is leaving in victory with a hair dryer in one tenticle and the flag in another, I come with a hair curler, curl your tenticles and take the flag. :gun:

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Cunningly disguised as a bright blue letter 'J' (using a costume I obtained from my days working in the props department on Sesame Street) I mingle in with one of your posts unnoticed...

Your failure to spot me leave you sans-flag...

The flag is mine. ;)

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Accompanied by my army of alphabet soup we take you to our secret lair.

There you are forced to give up the flag, and leave your letter 'J' costume behind seeing as the alphabet soup emperor finds it insulting.

Luckily he lets you keep and old number 4 costume.

I've got the flag. :ph34r:

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Obviously you are unaware of the appetite of the Chubb...

After being overwhelmed by your Alphabetical Army I realise I missed the opportunity of a feast. As Alphabet Soup Armies always walk in single file I was able to eat them all one by one as I followed them, and at the same time find myself in your presence thanks to my Hansel and Gretel style tracking.

The fear of losing your army turns you into a quivering wreck, you throw me the flag...

Edited by Junior Chubb
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