============================================================================
TITLE: Lord of the Risk
AUTHOR: The X-Piig
RATING: PG for dirty mouths and minds
SUMMARY: Fun and games with the two geekiest people alive. Impending LotR/Classic Star Wars/X-Files/Matthew Good Band Crossover. And all my apologies.
DISCLAIMER: I own very little. Among this pitiful stash be the characters Magnolia Grey and Ashley Hobbes who are, VERY UNFORTUNATELY, based on non- fictional counterparts. May something have mercy on us all. As for the rest… they belong to all the non-me's of the world. I do, however, own a Risk board.
FEEDBACK: R/R or I'll geek you to death. Actually, I'll probably do that either way.
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LORD OF THE RISK
Magnolia Grey looked in horror upon what she and her companion Ashley Hobbes had created. She was aghast, to say the least, and more than aware of the sheer WRONGNESS of the situation. In lieu of rectifying it, however , she opted instead to harass said companion.
"Do you realize what this means?" she asked.
"What?"
"We are the geekiest people alive."
"And how," said Ashley, hanging his head in shame.
Before them lay the object of disapproval: a Risk board, but not just any Risk board. Instead of a map of the world, this board featured an accurate map of Middle-Earth, circa the last years of the Third Age. It was divided into 40 ridiculously tiny territories… ridiculously tiny both because there's only so much room on your typical map of Middle-Earth, and because they picked an unneccessarily small piece of cardboard on which to draw it.
"Well, that was poorly planned," said Magnolia.
"What's that?"
"I… don't know. Either way, I blame this entirely on you, Ash. And I'd like to take this opportunity to announce that I hate you very, very much."
"I hate you too, Mag."
"Right then. Let's play us some RISK."
"Yar," exclaimed Ashley, despite the sentence's marked lack of an exclamation mark.
Magnolia sat down and promptly claimed the "black death" set of armies. Though her usual pre-game announcement usually consisted of her declaring herself to be the reincarnation of Hitler, she was forced this time to settle for lowering her voice an octave and starting off on an "I am the Dark Lord Sauran" tangent, rabid mouth foam spraying all the while. Ashley pointed out that Sauron didn't actually refer to himself as "Sauron" or "El Dark Lord-o" for that matter, and Magnolia spent the next few minutes trying to force a handful of tiny black cannons up his left nostril.
"Shall we begin, then?" Ashley proposed, tightening the ropes binding Magnolia to her chair.
"In-deed. Pick an army, ass," said Magnolia, distractedly trying to free herself using her non-existent powers of telekinesis.
"I pick 'action figure death'," he replied, revealing his secret weapon/additional source of amusement.
"Hold on just one con-sarn minute here…"
"I believe I asked you not to use the expression 'con-sarn' anymore."
Vehemently shaking her fist, Magnolia ignored this and continued her diatribe, "…I get the distinct feeling there's something amiss concerning your choice of army colour. What's your ruse, con-sarnit?"
"Did I mention I hate you?"
"And how. Now state your ruse! *GASP* Sweet Jesus! Those aren't Risk pieces, they're… they're…" Magnolia stuttered in utter horror and unintentional dramatic effect.
"Star Wars action figures! HUZZAH!" cried Ashley, promptly falling off his chair.
Having finally untied, unchained, unstraight-jacketed and unboothed (like uncaged… but with a booth… really, it's a word… I swear) herself, Magnolia denounced her El Dark Lord-o position as leader of the "Black Death" armies of Middle-Earth, and scampered off down a hallway, the existence of which Ashley had previously been completely unaware of.
"That's odd," he said, "seeing as I live here and all."
However, his life motto being "meh", he shrugged and happily began to place his armies on random places on the map, knowing full well that Magnolia was entirely too rabid to notice he rampant cheating. He considered it some malicious form of revenge for the last game, which she had destroyed in the final moments of his victory by spreading peanut butter on Eastern Australia and attempting to eat the board. She would have to pay for that, he decided, but good.
"And how," said Magnolia, simultaneously practising her supposedly non-existent skills of telepathy and teleportation.
"Stop that."
"Hmmmm…. no."
She sat down again, and Ashley noticed for the first time she was holding a pair of scissors and the Matthew Good Band issue of Argle magazine. And suddenly it all became horrifyingly clear.
"You wouldn't," said he.
"I would," said she, raising the magazine above her head a la something vaguely biblical and epic, "and con sarnit I WILL! BEHOLD! I AM THE SLIGHTLY LESS DARK LORD-O OF THE "MATT GOOD DEATH" ARMIES!!!"
Thus began the ridiculousness.
TITLE: Lord of the Risk
AUTHOR: The X-Piig
RATING: PG for dirty mouths and minds
SUMMARY: Fun and games with the two geekiest people alive. Impending LotR/Classic Star Wars/X-Files/Matthew Good Band Crossover. And all my apologies.
DISCLAIMER: I own very little. Among this pitiful stash be the characters Magnolia Grey and Ashley Hobbes who are, VERY UNFORTUNATELY, based on non- fictional counterparts. May something have mercy on us all. As for the rest… they belong to all the non-me's of the world. I do, however, own a Risk board.
FEEDBACK: R/R or I'll geek you to death. Actually, I'll probably do that either way.
============================================================================
LORD OF THE RISK
Magnolia Grey looked in horror upon what she and her companion Ashley Hobbes had created. She was aghast, to say the least, and more than aware of the sheer WRONGNESS of the situation. In lieu of rectifying it, however , she opted instead to harass said companion.
"Do you realize what this means?" she asked.
"What?"
"We are the geekiest people alive."
"And how," said Ashley, hanging his head in shame.
Before them lay the object of disapproval: a Risk board, but not just any Risk board. Instead of a map of the world, this board featured an accurate map of Middle-Earth, circa the last years of the Third Age. It was divided into 40 ridiculously tiny territories… ridiculously tiny both because there's only so much room on your typical map of Middle-Earth, and because they picked an unneccessarily small piece of cardboard on which to draw it.
"Well, that was poorly planned," said Magnolia.
"What's that?"
"I… don't know. Either way, I blame this entirely on you, Ash. And I'd like to take this opportunity to announce that I hate you very, very much."
"I hate you too, Mag."
"Right then. Let's play us some RISK."
"Yar," exclaimed Ashley, despite the sentence's marked lack of an exclamation mark.
Magnolia sat down and promptly claimed the "black death" set of armies. Though her usual pre-game announcement usually consisted of her declaring herself to be the reincarnation of Hitler, she was forced this time to settle for lowering her voice an octave and starting off on an "I am the Dark Lord Sauran" tangent, rabid mouth foam spraying all the while. Ashley pointed out that Sauron didn't actually refer to himself as "Sauron" or "El Dark Lord-o" for that matter, and Magnolia spent the next few minutes trying to force a handful of tiny black cannons up his left nostril.
"Shall we begin, then?" Ashley proposed, tightening the ropes binding Magnolia to her chair.
"In-deed. Pick an army, ass," said Magnolia, distractedly trying to free herself using her non-existent powers of telekinesis.
"I pick 'action figure death'," he replied, revealing his secret weapon/additional source of amusement.
"Hold on just one con-sarn minute here…"
"I believe I asked you not to use the expression 'con-sarn' anymore."
Vehemently shaking her fist, Magnolia ignored this and continued her diatribe, "…I get the distinct feeling there's something amiss concerning your choice of army colour. What's your ruse, con-sarnit?"
"Did I mention I hate you?"
"And how. Now state your ruse! *GASP* Sweet Jesus! Those aren't Risk pieces, they're… they're…" Magnolia stuttered in utter horror and unintentional dramatic effect.
"Star Wars action figures! HUZZAH!" cried Ashley, promptly falling off his chair.
Having finally untied, unchained, unstraight-jacketed and unboothed (like uncaged… but with a booth… really, it's a word… I swear) herself, Magnolia denounced her El Dark Lord-o position as leader of the "Black Death" armies of Middle-Earth, and scampered off down a hallway, the existence of which Ashley had previously been completely unaware of.
"That's odd," he said, "seeing as I live here and all."
However, his life motto being "meh", he shrugged and happily began to place his armies on random places on the map, knowing full well that Magnolia was entirely too rabid to notice he rampant cheating. He considered it some malicious form of revenge for the last game, which she had destroyed in the final moments of his victory by spreading peanut butter on Eastern Australia and attempting to eat the board. She would have to pay for that, he decided, but good.
"And how," said Magnolia, simultaneously practising her supposedly non-existent skills of telepathy and teleportation.
"Stop that."
"Hmmmm…. no."
She sat down again, and Ashley noticed for the first time she was holding a pair of scissors and the Matthew Good Band issue of Argle magazine. And suddenly it all became horrifyingly clear.
"You wouldn't," said he.
"I would," said she, raising the magazine above her head a la something vaguely biblical and epic, "and con sarnit I WILL! BEHOLD! I AM THE SLIGHTLY LESS DARK LORD-O OF THE "MATT GOOD DEATH" ARMIES!!!"
Thus began the ridiculousness.
