A Game of Thrones of Breasts. (The Mr Fib RP.)

A GAME OF THRONES, OF BREASTS.




Summer is falling over the Valley of Weeping Nipples, down in it's depths - several figures begin to stir.

You stand in this deep, perilous gulch - knowing nothing and everything.
You know you must escape, you know you must make your way to Nippilopolis, in the Herpes Quadrant - and claim the Throne of Breasts.

Only together can you escape this place, only together can you find the Throne, only together can you dick each other over and claim the PRIZE!

How will you proceed?

Jonathan (who may or may not be "Jonathan" at the moment) stirs and rises, rubbing his head. It felt as though he'd been bludgeoned multiple times, though that could just be the various people shouting at each other in his head.

"Guys, we've gotta get to the Throne! It's our duty-"

"NO, you foolish child, we must help to give our company a favorable public image!"

"Yeah, right, because a Space-Orc is FANTASTIC at doing that-"

"You're both wrong! We gotta gather the REPUBLICANS! and force our ideals on the WHOLE UNIVERSE!"

"Shut up, Joe, you're a stupid Tea Partier."

"Urg."


Barely managing to ignore the rest of the voices in his head, he sits back down, realizing for the first time that there are others gathered around. He waits for them to regain consciousness and decide where they should set off to.

Suddenly, as if from nowhere, a creature springs from behind a conveniently placed plot device made of fish-fingers.

It is a wandering Salad-Gimp.

It approaches Jonathan cautiously, twirling it's butter knives in a menacing fashion.

Jonathan decides to use Snarky Comment.

"The fuck are you, a walking salad?"

The great and glorious Admiral Wolverine Lightingbolt sat at the prow of his flagship : 'The Pickle'. He was flying through space on a giant pickle, its fumes were rotting his brain slowly, and he was loving every second of it. At this speed he'd be rubbing his backside on those tits any time in the next 9 months. UNfortunately, as he was on a pickle, he was going in completely the wrong direction.

At about this time, another one of the figures stirs, awakened by a voice she has never heard before. Groaning, she sits up and glances around.

Glancing up, she saw a stranger standing over her, looking not at her but an even stranger approaching creature.

"Hey, watch it!" She shouted, springing up and swinging her trusty iron pickaxe at the menacing salad-gimp.

The Salad screeched in mortal agony, as it's life blood OOZED all over the damn place.

"...I....I...was just going to ask if you needed refreshment..."

The poor creature crumpled, and a tray baring lemonade and cookies fell from within it's folds, to shatter on the dusty stone ground.

Anicus Fisticus flies in from the sunset on his glorious magical tampon stead.

His first sight is Poni mercilessly attacking a Salad-Gimp.

He watches it die at the hands of Poni and rides next to her, slapping his glorious tampon's ass to usher her forward.

He the beats the shit out of Poni and proceeds to walk up to John, demanding explicit sexual favors for saving his life.

Zanderp flew on top of his familiar, Chuck Norris, over what appeared to be the end of a lame and terrible battle. He twirled around his Rave Stick in his hands absent-mindedly as he looked onward at the strange encounter. Guiding his Chuck Norris down to the "battlefield", he jumped down and looked at the strange, space-kangaroo-looking thing that killed the poor Salad now being beaten up by some Douche-bag. Such a waste of lemonade. Zanderp motioned to his familiar to lap up the lemonade before it became a complete waste.

"What is the meaning of all this?" He said, with a slight breeze blowing his skirt around sexily.

Jonathan looks at Anicus curiously, before convulsing furiously. When he rights himself, he replies to Anicus' demands with a single word:

"Urg."

He then slumps back down to where he was sitting.

Poni lays sprawled on the ground, wondering what the HELL just happened.

"OK, alright, where are you all coming from, and who are you?" the small kangaroolike girl asks, hopping up and glaring at them all suspiciously. "And what are you all doing?"

Six poked his head out of the Salad-Gimp's ex-anus, seeing several other figures nearby. He crawled out of his adopted home on his hands, knees, and pubic hair. He shuffled over to a man that smelled strangely of douche.

"What is the meaning of this horse conflubbery? Why have you all insisted on slaying my foster home?"

Anicus ponders these questions, stroking his pubic beard thoughtfully before cumming up with the answer.

"I came here to avenge my fallen planet from the giant snatch the devoured it. The walking piece of Salad reminded me of a Vagina and I felt it needed to be destroyed. You, young lady, took the chance from me, so I beat you in place of it. You know, chivalry and shit. You beat up my vagina salad, I beat you up. As for you, man who fell out of anus, do you need to be cleaned?"

The great Space Pickle came crashing into the ground. Through some odd magic, or perhaps because he was insanely high and barely clothed, Sean Bean was on the ground waiting for him. As were a gigantic Douche-bag, a Kangaroo, some... thing, and some other... thing.

The Admiral had conquered another planet. The day was saved.

"OH! And you! coward boy who refused to fight the salad vagina. WHERE ARE MY SEXUAL FAVORS?!?"

Urg continues to drool, then convulses again, and springs to his feet, pointing a finger at Anicus' face.

"Where are your favors? I'll tell you where your favors are: up the President's ass! Oh, and they're not real, like his promises!"

Joe rolls on the ground laughing as everyone else stares, not understanding his reference.

Anicus rolls his eyes.

"We get it Mr, you're a republican. I've heard of this person from this far off land called America. It sounds like a real shit place, but there's this person, called Bachmann. I've heard she is also a republican, do all you republicans come together for mass sexy times? And can I join in and clean you all?"

Joe raises a finger again, only to convulse once more. When he stands up, it is in a dignified manner.

"My named is Ylgul, PR Rep of the Company. If mass sexy times would change your opinion of the company for the better, we can see to it that your desire is fulfilled."

Eury interjects only to say, "the fuck?"

The narrator rushes in to take charge before things start to get even more retarded.

A great and gaping PLOT DEVICE appears in the side of one of the valley's walls.

It is to the left of everyone.

A rumbling noise emerges from deep within, and from out of the inky blackness, a great, shambling green beast crawls.

It is a GREATER QUEEN CABBAGE GIMP.

Attached to it's back is a rudimentary SPACE SHIP THING.

The players must get their hands on the ship at any cost, and they have four options open to them.

They can:

Beat the mother fucker down.

Sacrifice one of their number in exchange for the SPACE SHIP THING.

Roll a dice.

Do a barrel roll.

Jonathan wants to beat the mother fucker down, because all of his voices are putting him in a bad mood.

Thinking on his feet as the great Admiral always did, also because he was standing up and Sean Bean told him too. The Admiral quickly tried to throw the weird... Urging thing at the GREATER QUEEN CABBAGE GIMP. His sacrifice would nto be in vain, all for the greater good... whoever he was.

The springy kangaroo girl is set into a panic. Surrounded by strangers in some weird nipple valley and now about to be attacked by yet another sentient vegetable..

This is definitely not a good day, Poni thinks.

She wants to beat that fucker down, she is totally racist against sentient vegetables for whatever reason.....

All this talk of a beat down is making Anicus horny.

He goes a little way away and has a nice wank.

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