Guan_Yu
Rookie
Hello Game Revolution. It's definitely been a while since I've said anything here. If you don't remember me, I had a little nickname on this forum years ago -- "Sloppy Carlton". Still not sure why. If you do remember me, then you have been on this forum for way too long. I have been on this forum for way too long. Now let's write a Goddamn story together.
Some rules:
-We are writing a Goddamn story together. I will post the first part then each member who posts will continue the story from where the last person left off. Be creative!
-Don't contribute just one or a few words. Try to write at least one good sentence, preferably a few sentences. Let's keep the plot moving, damn it all.
-Feel free to incorporate real GR posters into the story. Everyone knows that fan-fiction is the coolest form of literature.
-Try to be funny. Or at least comprehensible. Actually, that's a much more realistic goal. Let's all try to be comprehensible. Reading is good.
Now let's do this thing right while we can before it inevitably turns into a bloated, unfunny closed topic.
"You're most recent review of Tactical Tennis Romance was the biggest chunk of e-tripe I have ever wasted my time on," an enraged GR poster typed in the GRandmaster forum. "This game is, without a doubt, the best tennis combat date-simulator on the market, and you blow it off as bargain bin-worthy crap. I have not seen such a short-sighted review on this site since Intellectual Chicken Dreamland, and that's really saying something. Next you will probably try to tell us that Batman and the Mystical Zebra is crap. Farewell, GR, I will never visit this site again! There is just too much unfair bullshit for me to have to wade through anymore. Hopefully Cthulhu will bless the admins with fair analytical skills. Ta-ta!" As he typed his last keystroke, our hero sat back smugly in his chair as the cloud of Cheeto dust cleared from over his keyboard. "That will show those peons." With a final swig of whatever fattening sugary poison our hero was cramming into his body, he put his head down to rest on his favorite sweat-stained horridly disgusting fat person pillow. Fat. Suddenly, a loud rumbling shook the entire room, and our portly hero fell out of bed. After six or seven attempts, our hero stood boldy to his feet and ran down the hallway wailing with honor before he courageously hid in his grandmother's closet. Suddenly, the rumbling stopped. "Whew, that was clo-" Our hero was cut off when the closet door opened abruptly. Standing in the closet entrance was a large, shadowy, super-cut figure. This figure was none other than GR superstar.......
Some rules:
-We are writing a Goddamn story together. I will post the first part then each member who posts will continue the story from where the last person left off. Be creative!
-Don't contribute just one or a few words. Try to write at least one good sentence, preferably a few sentences. Let's keep the plot moving, damn it all.
-Feel free to incorporate real GR posters into the story. Everyone knows that fan-fiction is the coolest form of literature.
-Try to be funny. Or at least comprehensible. Actually, that's a much more realistic goal. Let's all try to be comprehensible. Reading is good.
Now let's do this thing right while we can before it inevitably turns into a bloated, unfunny closed topic.
"You're most recent review of Tactical Tennis Romance was the biggest chunk of e-tripe I have ever wasted my time on," an enraged GR poster typed in the GRandmaster forum. "This game is, without a doubt, the best tennis combat date-simulator on the market, and you blow it off as bargain bin-worthy crap. I have not seen such a short-sighted review on this site since Intellectual Chicken Dreamland, and that's really saying something. Next you will probably try to tell us that Batman and the Mystical Zebra is crap. Farewell, GR, I will never visit this site again! There is just too much unfair bullshit for me to have to wade through anymore. Hopefully Cthulhu will bless the admins with fair analytical skills. Ta-ta!" As he typed his last keystroke, our hero sat back smugly in his chair as the cloud of Cheeto dust cleared from over his keyboard. "That will show those peons." With a final swig of whatever fattening sugary poison our hero was cramming into his body, he put his head down to rest on his favorite sweat-stained horridly disgusting fat person pillow. Fat. Suddenly, a loud rumbling shook the entire room, and our portly hero fell out of bed. After six or seven attempts, our hero stood boldy to his feet and ran down the hallway wailing with honor before he courageously hid in his grandmother's closet. Suddenly, the rumbling stopped. "Whew, that was clo-" Our hero was cut off when the closet door opened abruptly. Standing in the closet entrance was a large, shadowy, super-cut figure. This figure was none other than GR superstar.......
