Jak II is one hell of a game, isn't it?
*everybody nods*
And people like comedy, right?
*everybody nods suspiciously*
So what if they were like, combined? Eh? Eh?
Yeah, I'll start you impatient git.
OBLIGATORY LEGAL CRAP: Disclaimer: RuneAyame owns naff all. Not even a sheep. Not even a sheep. (Jak II comes under the term 'naff all') (So do the lyrics to that Fatman Scoop song)
*************wooooprettystars*********************************************
Chapter ONE! Yeah! Get in there! Woooo! You don't see many of them around!
The Daxter, The Hoverboard, and The Fat Guy.
Jak and buddies (I'm lazy) were conveniently hanging around outside. Conveniently for me, that is, 'cos I'm writing the soddin' story. Jak also conveniently had his hoverboard with him. Ah! I see you working out the plot of this chapter already.
*cue sad violin music here* Daxter stared longingly at the hoverboard. Jak had never let him on it. He said Daxter was a liability because he had no insurance. Samos backed him up, saying Daxter was an unusually small runt for his species and could never steer one of those infernal contraptions. Torn pointed out that Daxter was a bit dim. Still, Daxter was a stubborn little git, and he wanted a go.
Daxter's mind: We somehow need to distract Jak and grab the board.
Daxter: How are we gonna do that?
Daxter's mind: What are you asking you for? You don't chuffin' know!'
Daxter thought about it for a while. Then he had a brilliant idea. A Baron- Electricity-Powered lightbulb popped brightly above his head with a stereotypical 'ping'.
Daxter: Jak! Your shoelace is untied!
Jak looked down. This is made doubly funny because he was wearing slippers.
Daxter: Hah! Retard! *grabs board*
Keira: Daxter! Don't do it man!
Torn: Woah, popcorn moment.
Samos: DAXTER! Get off the sodding board!
Tess: Mr Sage!
Samos: What? I said sobbing.
Ashelin: You said sodding.
Tess: Ashelin!
Jak: I have no laces.
Nearby Metal Head: *shakes head sympathetically*
Meanwhile, whilst the others were busy telling Daxter to get off the board, he got on it. He felt the smooth metal gleaming under his tiny orange paws, and in his mind he heard angry, aggressive music, telling him to go, go, go, go.
Daxter goed.
Jak: Dude! Where's my board?
Samos: Oh shit.
Tess: Mr. Sage!
Samos: What? I said damn.
Torn: Bugger! I asked for buttered, not salted.
Keira: Awww.......
Torn: Yeah! £5.50 it cost me. I nearly smacked the girl behind the counter.
Ashelin: Pray! Restrain yourself, Torn. Daxter just attempted a corner. He's heading this way.
Daxter: Jak! Jak! Watch me take a U-Turn!
Jak: NOOOO!
Daxter was heading straight for Jak. Jak tried to run out of the way, but whichever way he turned, it seemed Daxter was still behind him, grinning manically, his rodent tongue hanging out and flapping somewhere round his ears. A string of rabid drool flew off the end of his tongue.
Keira: *wiping head* Hmm? Must be raining.
Daxter was determined to crush Jak. Jak had always been the big-shot, and the hero. Or, as Daxter cleverly called him, the zero. Now, Dax-to-the-Max was gonna take the blond ponce down. Daxter was burning down the track, thoroughly enjoying the chase but throughly disappointed that he didn't have a camera to catch Jak's facial expression for future blackmail.
Daxter was nearly on him, when he something out of the corner of his eye. Actually, it covered more than the corner of his eye, 'cos lo and behold, there floated Fatman Krew, singing his luridly amoral song.
FMKrew: You gotta fifty dollar bill put yer hands up! So I can steal it! Etc.
A wicked idea popped into Daxter's head. Now him and that vast wobbling mass of high-fat additives were on the same ground, in a manner of speaking.
Daxter changed course, heading straight for Fatman Krew. Sadly, his driving skills were predictably lacking. He chipped a lampost, knocked a pipe, whacked some poor pedestrian on the noggin, before catching up with old Blubberboy himself. The hoverboard was about to explode. Daxter let out a mad, banshee-like warcry, and zoomed straight into the Fat Man.
There was a BIG MASSOF EXPLOSION.
Then all was still.
Jak: Daxter! You blew my board! You are so infantile.
Daxter: I'm not infantile you stupid farthead.
Nearby Metal Head: *shrugs hopelessly*
***************************************** Note: Fatman Krew died on that day. He left a massive hole in the floor where he fell, and no-one ever got him out. Nobody liked Krew. The moment he got splattered by a rabid orange furball, everybody raided his bar and got hideously drunk. So everybody benefited from his death. Stay dead, Krew. No-one liked you. They only liked your booze.
*****************************************
Wooo! Chapter one is done and dusted! What did you think? I don't know what to think. I don't know, I don't care, and it doesn't make any difference. Chapter two SOON. Watch this space. *Not literally. That's just stupid*
'If you can read this, thank a teacher.'
OBLIGATORY LEGAL CRAP: Disclaimer: RuneAyame owns naff all. Not even a sheep. Not even a sheep. (Jak II comes under the term 'naff all') (So do the lyrics to that Fatman Scoop song)
*************wooooprettystars*********************************************
Chapter ONE! Yeah! Get in there! Woooo! You don't see many of them around!
The Daxter, The Hoverboard, and The Fat Guy.
Jak and buddies (I'm lazy) were conveniently hanging around outside. Conveniently for me, that is, 'cos I'm writing the soddin' story. Jak also conveniently had his hoverboard with him. Ah! I see you working out the plot of this chapter already.
*cue sad violin music here* Daxter stared longingly at the hoverboard. Jak had never let him on it. He said Daxter was a liability because he had no insurance. Samos backed him up, saying Daxter was an unusually small runt for his species and could never steer one of those infernal contraptions. Torn pointed out that Daxter was a bit dim. Still, Daxter was a stubborn little git, and he wanted a go.
Daxter's mind: We somehow need to distract Jak and grab the board.
Daxter: How are we gonna do that?
Daxter's mind: What are you asking you for? You don't chuffin' know!'
Daxter thought about it for a while. Then he had a brilliant idea. A Baron- Electricity-Powered lightbulb popped brightly above his head with a stereotypical 'ping'.
Daxter: Jak! Your shoelace is untied!
Jak looked down. This is made doubly funny because he was wearing slippers.
Daxter: Hah! Retard! *grabs board*
Keira: Daxter! Don't do it man!
Torn: Woah, popcorn moment.
Samos: DAXTER! Get off the sodding board!
Tess: Mr Sage!
Samos: What? I said sobbing.
Ashelin: You said sodding.
Tess: Ashelin!
Jak: I have no laces.
Nearby Metal Head: *shakes head sympathetically*
Meanwhile, whilst the others were busy telling Daxter to get off the board, he got on it. He felt the smooth metal gleaming under his tiny orange paws, and in his mind he heard angry, aggressive music, telling him to go, go, go, go.
Daxter goed.
Jak: Dude! Where's my board?
Samos: Oh shit.
Tess: Mr. Sage!
Samos: What? I said damn.
Torn: Bugger! I asked for buttered, not salted.
Keira: Awww.......
Torn: Yeah! £5.50 it cost me. I nearly smacked the girl behind the counter.
Ashelin: Pray! Restrain yourself, Torn. Daxter just attempted a corner. He's heading this way.
Daxter: Jak! Jak! Watch me take a U-Turn!
Jak: NOOOO!
Daxter was heading straight for Jak. Jak tried to run out of the way, but whichever way he turned, it seemed Daxter was still behind him, grinning manically, his rodent tongue hanging out and flapping somewhere round his ears. A string of rabid drool flew off the end of his tongue.
Keira: *wiping head* Hmm? Must be raining.
Daxter was determined to crush Jak. Jak had always been the big-shot, and the hero. Or, as Daxter cleverly called him, the zero. Now, Dax-to-the-Max was gonna take the blond ponce down. Daxter was burning down the track, thoroughly enjoying the chase but throughly disappointed that he didn't have a camera to catch Jak's facial expression for future blackmail.
Daxter was nearly on him, when he something out of the corner of his eye. Actually, it covered more than the corner of his eye, 'cos lo and behold, there floated Fatman Krew, singing his luridly amoral song.
FMKrew: You gotta fifty dollar bill put yer hands up! So I can steal it! Etc.
A wicked idea popped into Daxter's head. Now him and that vast wobbling mass of high-fat additives were on the same ground, in a manner of speaking.
Daxter changed course, heading straight for Fatman Krew. Sadly, his driving skills were predictably lacking. He chipped a lampost, knocked a pipe, whacked some poor pedestrian on the noggin, before catching up with old Blubberboy himself. The hoverboard was about to explode. Daxter let out a mad, banshee-like warcry, and zoomed straight into the Fat Man.
There was a BIG MASSOF EXPLOSION.
Then all was still.
Jak: Daxter! You blew my board! You are so infantile.
Daxter: I'm not infantile you stupid farthead.
Nearby Metal Head: *shrugs hopelessly*
***************************************** Note: Fatman Krew died on that day. He left a massive hole in the floor where he fell, and no-one ever got him out. Nobody liked Krew. The moment he got splattered by a rabid orange furball, everybody raided his bar and got hideously drunk. So everybody benefited from his death. Stay dead, Krew. No-one liked you. They only liked your booze.
*****************************************
Wooo! Chapter one is done and dusted! What did you think? I don't know what to think. I don't know, I don't care, and it doesn't make any difference. Chapter two SOON. Watch this space. *Not literally. That's just stupid*
'If you can read this, thank a teacher.'