Post by Jenno on Aug 28, 2008 23:50:19 GMT -5
(Okay, first of all, this is extremely odd as I wrote it at 5-something in the morning and... yea, that's the only excuse I really have, please don't think less of me because of this, it'll most likely only be up a couple more days anyway. Oh and Halmtier, you might want to change the rule about it having to be characters from the forum and just change it to having to be Star Wars based)
It was dawn. The Sun flashed over the horizon, restoring light to the world. Yet, this was not a day of joy or happiness, this was not a day for the light, today was a dark day, today was a today of reckoning. He moved slowly and with almost no co-ordination, as if through some sly manoeuvre to mislead an opponent. Darth Babyface was a shrewd follower of the old ways, deception was his ally. Nobody would expect that he would posses the power to conquer the playground, neigh, the entire Universe. Yet within those small, chubby and mind-numbingly cute hands there existed the power to crush all life into nothing.
Yet there was hope, one small beacon of light, he knew the truth did wise old Pooey-Wooey. His keen instincts had picked up on this threat, it had been the Force which told him, and as a follower of the Light Side it guided his actions majestically. Although, as majestically as it could move the limbs of a sloppy four-month year old baby. But still, this was to be the battle which would decide the fate of all those in existence and the question still remained, would the Light win, or would the Dark consume us all. Would Darth Babyface be left with naught but a rattle to return to? Or would wise old Pooey-Wooey be left to wallow in a pit of his own… yea…
As the arch rivals came to a halt, they could only stare at each other, no words surfacing. The wind scattered through the shards of grass, as if trying to escape the scene of the coming battle. For nature, and the Force, knew what was coming and it was not to be pretty.
It was Darth Babyface who broke the silence, “Wa-wooma baplah blah,” he said, as cunning and wittily as ever. Yet these carefully thought out words helped to trigger a quick response from his opponent.
“Naya mema woyoya, me-ya-owo-eh” he replied clearly, raising an eyebrow suggestively to his adversary. Darth Babyface was not pleased by this response, his gums ground together in anger, his brow furrowed in frustration, in fact, he even weed a little bit. But this pleased old Pooey, his opponent was wrapped up in emotion, it would could his judgment, and therein give him the opportunity he would need to strike him down.
He charged! His pace started well, right arm and leg moving in complete unison, but then things went south. His left hand, it seemed, was not as quick, or accurate, as his left leg, this small stumble gave Darth Babyface the opportunity he needed, with the Force suppressed under his whim, he crawled like lightning until he had descended upon his pathetically coordinated prey. There was no time for Pooey-Wooey to mount a defence, it was obvious now that he held no advantage over his opponent, Darth Babyface was more powerful that he could possibly imagine, he was at the mercy of this almighty being.
Taking his right hand, the hand with which he would destroy life as we know it, with those small sausage like fingers, he summoned all his power through the force, and he unleashed all that anger, all that rage, all his training, upon the face of Pooey-Wooey, who was unable to stop the devilish claw of destruction from scarring his face. Old Pooey was knocked onto his back due to the force of the impact.
There he lay for a brief few seconds, taking in what had just occurred. And then it happened, there had been no warning, no warning at all, no vision through the Force; there was nothing he could now. And so like all of those who had fallen victim, he cried, he cried and cried until his wailing finally caught the attention of the one he needed.
Darth Babyface watch triumphantly as his enemy lay defeated, the last obstacle that prevented him from his ultimate goal, ultimate destruction. And that obstacle lay there, crying out. And sure enough, his towering slave arrived making the idiotic noises that the slaves all seemed to make and she carried old Pooey-Wooey off in defeat.
Darth Babyface fell forward onto his hands and knees and he crawled away victorious, he crawled away a Master of the Force; he crawled away, with un-soiled diapers.
~The End
It was dawn. The Sun flashed over the horizon, restoring light to the world. Yet, this was not a day of joy or happiness, this was not a day for the light, today was a dark day, today was a today of reckoning. He moved slowly and with almost no co-ordination, as if through some sly manoeuvre to mislead an opponent. Darth Babyface was a shrewd follower of the old ways, deception was his ally. Nobody would expect that he would posses the power to conquer the playground, neigh, the entire Universe. Yet within those small, chubby and mind-numbingly cute hands there existed the power to crush all life into nothing.
Yet there was hope, one small beacon of light, he knew the truth did wise old Pooey-Wooey. His keen instincts had picked up on this threat, it had been the Force which told him, and as a follower of the Light Side it guided his actions majestically. Although, as majestically as it could move the limbs of a sloppy four-month year old baby. But still, this was to be the battle which would decide the fate of all those in existence and the question still remained, would the Light win, or would the Dark consume us all. Would Darth Babyface be left with naught but a rattle to return to? Or would wise old Pooey-Wooey be left to wallow in a pit of his own… yea…
As the arch rivals came to a halt, they could only stare at each other, no words surfacing. The wind scattered through the shards of grass, as if trying to escape the scene of the coming battle. For nature, and the Force, knew what was coming and it was not to be pretty.
It was Darth Babyface who broke the silence, “Wa-wooma baplah blah,” he said, as cunning and wittily as ever. Yet these carefully thought out words helped to trigger a quick response from his opponent.
“Naya mema woyoya, me-ya-owo-eh” he replied clearly, raising an eyebrow suggestively to his adversary. Darth Babyface was not pleased by this response, his gums ground together in anger, his brow furrowed in frustration, in fact, he even weed a little bit. But this pleased old Pooey, his opponent was wrapped up in emotion, it would could his judgment, and therein give him the opportunity he would need to strike him down.
He charged! His pace started well, right arm and leg moving in complete unison, but then things went south. His left hand, it seemed, was not as quick, or accurate, as his left leg, this small stumble gave Darth Babyface the opportunity he needed, with the Force suppressed under his whim, he crawled like lightning until he had descended upon his pathetically coordinated prey. There was no time for Pooey-Wooey to mount a defence, it was obvious now that he held no advantage over his opponent, Darth Babyface was more powerful that he could possibly imagine, he was at the mercy of this almighty being.
Taking his right hand, the hand with which he would destroy life as we know it, with those small sausage like fingers, he summoned all his power through the force, and he unleashed all that anger, all that rage, all his training, upon the face of Pooey-Wooey, who was unable to stop the devilish claw of destruction from scarring his face. Old Pooey was knocked onto his back due to the force of the impact.
There he lay for a brief few seconds, taking in what had just occurred. And then it happened, there had been no warning, no warning at all, no vision through the Force; there was nothing he could now. And so like all of those who had fallen victim, he cried, he cried and cried until his wailing finally caught the attention of the one he needed.
Darth Babyface watch triumphantly as his enemy lay defeated, the last obstacle that prevented him from his ultimate goal, ultimate destruction. And that obstacle lay there, crying out. And sure enough, his towering slave arrived making the idiotic noises that the slaves all seemed to make and she carried old Pooey-Wooey off in defeat.
Darth Babyface fell forward onto his hands and knees and he crawled away victorious, he crawled away a Master of the Force; he crawled away, with un-soiled diapers.
~The End
