/jp/ - Otaku Culture

[Anonymous No.]

let's roll

[Anonymous No.]

Picture yourself, in every moment of your life, passing from place to place and time to time. Picture those places and times and picture what happened to them. Has the past gone away when you left it? Is this true, can you not go back? If so, surely this can be the same way for places as it is for time. Imagine that when you leave a room, or simply turn away, a multitude of tiny organisms deconstruct the reality you can't see, and it ceases to exist. At the same time, the organisms weave together a new world wherever you go and for whatever you look at out of the material of that dead reality. This of course implies the back of your head does not exist either. So how does it seem familiar? Because when the back of your head does not exist, these organisms may restructure your brain directly in order to create the feeling of familiarity and of memory.
They do all this, without ever ceasing, out of knowledge passed down by instinct that when you cease to acknowledge reality, they as a whole will cease to exist, because reality is the knowing and they are the unknowing, both in mutual interdependence. In time they may attempt to rewire your brain or body to ensure this does not happen, but it is far more likely just one of them will realize that your brain is just a construct of your thought... and since thought is a product of your brain, that single organism, one of an infinite number of organisms will know it's true purpose is not in line with it's kind.

It's purpose is tanasinn.

[Anonymous No.]

This isn't /b/.

[Anonymous No.]

I wanted to tell OP off but the yukkuri made me laughh.

[Anonymous No.]

oh boy here we go

[Anonymous No.]

Imagine you are having terrible nightmare. It's terrible, but it's terrible only to you and no other. It's a horror custom made for you by your own mind. The content is not important, but the fear is. When you wake, you wake in a room on a bed. It is your bed, but it is not your bed. It is your room, but it is not your room. With effort, you realize you have not awoken at all, but are still asleep and have dreamed of an awakening. The question remains if you are to wake and be greeted with reality, should you get out of bed or go back to sleep. You decide to do both, and you fall backward through the bed as the sheets envelop your body. It's dark, but it's not dark. You're awake, but you're not awake. You are dead and being cremated. As flames disintegrate your flesh, a scream echos through your mind but not does not escape your lips which, even if you could speak, have been glued shut. You black out once more, and awaken at dawn. As the mingled ashes of bone and oak are scattered on a beach by the one you've left behind, you finally understand:

You are not the ashes of the man, you are the ashes of coffin. You were not a man dreaming of life, but a tree dreaming you were a man.

[Anonymous No.]

tanasinn is very important to me. I am a big advocate of the feeling and feeling. I have studied tanasinn for about 6-7 years and am a proud member of the tanasinn-nnisanat Society of tanasinnvania. During my college program semester at tanasinn World, I passed the tanasinn Company's language assessment test, and received a language pin under my tanasinn to indicate that I was responsible and could assist tanasinn guests should they have any inquiries. I study hard every day in order to gain some insight on the lananguage and culture. I have dreams to become either a tanasinn language interpreter for business conferences (the person with headphones and microphone that sits in the little glass booth and simultaneously translates what the person is saying), 今∴山●∵ﾐひど(･)tanasinnっ●∵す
(･)∵∴∵∵されく●ぁwせｄじこｌｐ；：「たり∵(･)∴●∵わ∵くぁ●wた

り
け(･)∵どtanasinn(･)∵∴∵●わヽ!∵∴∵ﾐ●ﾘﾉ!/ﾘま(･)ん、
∴人<・>女､●ぃの∵(･)∴∵(･)で●す、∵∴(･)∵∵/ﾘ●らがtanasin
nｆｔｇｙふじで●｡
でも●そ∵∴な(･)人メ●　∵∴tanasinnが定(･(･))しす
∵の名∵(･)これ●か | '`-イ∴(･)のイ●け<・>て●くメ∵(･)∵くぁ(･)wせ●ｄｒｆｔｇｙふじ

●こｌｐ；：「
でイ∵(･)●が変(･)どtanasinn∵(･)∴なこ　∵∴(･)
●の∴∵底<・>ｄi●i;|;_ﾞιｆ的∵●ぬ(･)tanasinn∵
こ∵まtanasinnばく(･)ぁw；：「い●∵∴(･)∵∵たてtanasinnし●(･)/ﾘらす
∵●∵(･)∴助●け●∵て∵(･)∵●し●∵
世∵のtanasinnの∵(･)∴れtanasinn<・>ら●を(･)tanasinnし∵∴●い∴(･)

[Anonymous No.]

rollan

[Anonymous No.]

Imagine a giant penis flying towards your mouth, and there's nothing you can do about it. And you're like "Oh man, I'm gonna have to suck this thing", and you brace yourself to suck this giant penis. But then, at the last moment, it changes trajectory and hits you in the eye. You think to yourself "Well, at least I got that out of the way", but then the giant penis rears back and stabs your eye again, and again, and again. Eventually, this giant penis is penetrating your gray matter, and you begin to lose control of your motor skills. That's when the giant penis slaps you across the cheek, causing you to fall out of your chair. Unable to move and at your most vulnerable, the giant penis finally lodges itself in your anus, where it rests uncomfortably for 4, maybe 5 hours. That's what tanasinn is like.

[Anonymous No.]

C'mon yukkuri.

[Fijn_ No.]

rawling

[Anonymous No.]

I see no biko there

[Anonymous No.]

Picture in your mind a massive yellow phone book.

In this phone book is a name, number and address for every human being alive, that has ever lived, and ever will live, along with an equivalent number of pages in the business directory.

This phone book is on an old wooden table in a concrete room with no doors or windows.

You are trapped in the room and have a compulsion to read the phone book. You have now read through it cover-to-cover five-thousand, seven-hundred, thirty-one times. Your hands are pale from the lack of sunlight. Your hands are covered in scars from paper cuts. Your hands resemble the surface of Europa. You reach for the phone book one more time and flip through the pages like a picture book. As you flip through the pages at high-speed, the names and numbers form an image of yourself, staring back at you with a corrupted smile. The skin on your hands is now in shreds, the razor edges of the phone book having revealed bare bone, to which you are oblivious as you watch images dance on thin, colored-coded pages.

You have now flipped through the book eleven-thousand, eight-hundred, sixty-eight times.

This is what tanasinn is like.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968793
Ahahaha! You got Patchouli!
That is what you get for posting in a thread without thinking first!
Enjoy your smelly bookworm

[Anonymous No.]

roll

[Anonymous No.]

I remember this.

[Anonymous No.]

Picture this:

You're looking through a magnifiying viewfinder. Perhaps that of a camera, or a binoculars, or one of those telescopes you see on observation decks. Your vision is shunted straight ahead, into a narrow cone five to fifteen degrees, at maximum. Peripheal vision is nonexistant. The rest of the world exists around you, but because of the focus, you can't see anything outside it, only the part in in front of you. You can turn in any direction, and you can view things it would normally be impossible for you to view, in detail you never would be able to see otherwise, but you're still looking through what is essentially tube vision, and as soon as your eyes try to reach the edge of the tube, you run into a barrier of non-information.

Now invert part of that image, as you would an image channel in Photoshop. All around you, you can see the entire world, but blurrily, out of focus, and the only thing you view clearly is straight ahead of you. It is as if your visual tube has been reversed, and instead of seeing through the tube, you see the tube itself. What is that tube made of? A boundary of emptiness, around which you can see the lack of any visual information at all in vivid detail.

That tube is what tanasinn is like.

[Anonymous No.]

It actually terrifies me that somebody would put something like this together.

[Anonymous No.]

Also needs ZUN, R07, Ronald McDonald, El Shaddai and Aniki on the chart. And Flanfly and JBCS. Then it might be worth bothering over.

[Anonymous No.]

1971—that was the year of spaghetti. In 1971 I cooked spaghetti in order to live, and I lived in order to cook spaghetti. I was proud of the billows of steam rising from the aluminum pot as well as the gurgling of the tomato sauce as it simmered—they were my raison d`etre.

From a supermarket specializing in imported food, I bought a pot big enough for a German shepherd to take a bath in, an egg timer, and some seasonings and spices with strange names. I bought a cookbook that specializes in spaghetti as well as a dozen tomatoes. Garlic, leeks, salad oil---all of these aromas joined together and leapt through the air of my tiny one-room apartment, absorbed into its every nook and cranny. It smelled like an ancient Roman sewer.

Something special happened in the era of spaghetti in the year 1971.

[Anonymous No.]

Everyone hold onto your buts, it' story time.


So, there’s a man crawling through the desert.

He’d decided to try his SUV in a little bit of cross-country travel, had great fun zooming over the badlands and through the sand, got lost, hit a big rock, and then he couldn’t get it started again. There were no cell phone towers anywhere near, so his cell phone was useless. He had no family, his parents had died a few years before in an auto accident, and his few friends had no idea he was out here.

He stayed with the car for a day or so, but his one bottle of water ran out and he was getting thirsty. He thought maybe he knew the direction back, now that he’d paid attention to the sun and thought he’d figured out which way was north, so he decided to start walking. He figured he only had to go about 30 miles or so and he’d be back to the small town he’d gotten gas in last.

He thinks about walking at night to avoid the heat and sun, but based upon how dark it actually was the night before, and given that he has no flashlight, he’s afraid that he’ll break a leg or step on a rattlesnake. So, he puts on some sun block, puts the rest in his pocket for reapplication later, brings an umbrella he’d had in the back of the SUV with him to give him a little shade, pours the windshield wiper fluid into his water bottle in case he gets that desperate, brings his pocket knife in case he finds a cactus that looks like it might have water in it, and heads out in the direction he thinks is right.

[Anonymous No.]

Generally I boiled spaghetti by myself, and I ate it by myself. I didn’t really need any company. I liked eating alone. I felt that spaghetti should be eaten alone. I can’t really explain.

I always ate my spaghetti with a salad and black tea: three scoops of tea leaves in a pot and a tossed lettuce and cucumber salad. Then I leisurely read the newspaper, enjoying my spaghetti by myself. From Sunday to Saturday, everyday I ate spaghetti. When Saturday is finished, the cycle of spaghetti begins again.

I usually ate my spaghetti alone, but sometimes I am struck by the feeling that somebody might knock on my door and enter my apartment. This sensation is especially strong on rainy days. It is different from inviting somebody to my apartment. Sometimes I sense an acquaintance, sometimes a stranger. It might be a girl with really thin legs from high school that I had one date with. Other times it is a younger version of myself, while sometimes it is William Holden with Jennifer Jones on his arm. William Holden?

However, nobody actually ever comes to my apartment. They are all lurking in front of my door, but nobody ever knocks.

Outside it is raining.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968821
He walks for the entire day. By the end of the day he’s really thirsty. He’s been sweating all day, and his lips are starting to crack. He’s reapplied the sunblock twice, and tried to stay under the umbrella, but he still feels sunburned. The windshield wiper fluid sloshing in the bottle in his pocket

is really getting tempting now. He knows that it’s mainly water and some ethanol and coloring, but he also knows that they add some kind of poison to

it to keep people from drinking it. He wonders what the poison is, and whether the poison would be worse than dying of thirst.

He pushes on, trying to get to that small town before dark.

By the end of the day he starts getting worried. He figures he’s been walking at least 3 miles an hour, according to his watch for over 10 hours. That means that if his estimate was right that he should be close to the town. But he doesn’t recognize any of this. He had to cross a dry creek bed a mile or two back, and he doesn’t remember coming through it in the SUV. He figures that maybe he got his direction off just a little and that the dry creek bed was just off to one side of his path. He tells himself that he’s close, and that after dark he’ll start seeing the town lights over one of these hills, and that’ll be all he needs.

[Anonymous No.]

rolling dem numbers

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968826
As it gets dim enough that he starts stumbling over small rocks and things, he finds a spot and sits down to wait for full dark and the town lights.

Full dark comes before he knows it. He must have dozed off. He stands back up and turns all the way around. He sees nothing but stars.

He wakes up the next morning feeling absolutely lousy. His eyes are gummy and his mouth and nose feel like they’re full of sand. He so thirsty that he can’t even swallow. He barely got any sleep because it was so cold. He’d forgotten how cold it got at night in the desert and hadn’t noticed it the night before because he’d been in his car.

He knows the Rule of Threes – three minutes without air, three days without water, three weeks without food – then you die. Some people can make it a little longer, in the best situations. But the desert heat and having to walk and sweat isn’t the best situation to be without water. He figures, unless he finds water, this is his last day.

[Anonymous No.]

I cooked spaghetti all through the spring, summer and into the fall like a person bent on revenge, like a jilted lover burning a bundle of old love letters. She tosses them one by one into the flames of the fireplace; I slide bundles of spaghetti into the boiling water.

I put the trampled shadow into the bowl and then I mold it into the shape of a German shepherd. Then I drop it into the boiling water and I add some salt. I’m standing in front of the aluminum pot, a pair of long chopsticks in my hand, waiting for the mournful ‘ping’ of the egg timer. My bundles of spaghetti are sly and cunning—that’s why I can’t take my eyes off of them. At the moment they are sliding down the edge of the pot, disappearing into the inky darkness of night. Like a brightly colored butterfly being swallowed up by the eternity of the tropical jungle. Evening is calmly waiting for the arrival of the bundles of spaghetti.

spaghetti polonaise basil spaghetti spaghetti and garlic spaghetti carbonara,

spaghetti with clam and tomato sauce spaghetti and beef tongue.

Sometimes from the refrigerator I randomly grabbed leftovers to make spaghetti that tragically never receives a name. Nameless. The bundles of spaghetti being born in the steam in the year 1971, flowing like a river to the sea until it disappears. I mourned for them. All of my bundles of spaghetti in the year of 1971.

When the phone rings at 3:20, I am lying on my tatami mat and gazing at the ceiling. I am lying in the middle of a pool of warm winter sunlight, perfect for such mindless times. Like a dead fly in the sunlight of December 1971.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968832
He rinses his mouth out with a little of the windshield wiper fluid. He waits a while after spitting that little bit out, to see if his mouth goes numb, or he feels dizzy or something. Has his mouth gone numb? Is it just in his mind? He’s not sure. He’ll go a little farther, and if he still doesn’t find water, he’ll try drinking some of the fluid.

Then he has to face his next, harder question – which way does he go from here? Does he keep walking the same way he was yesterday (assuming that he still knows which way that is), or does he try a new direction? He has no idea what to do.

Looking at the hills and dunes around him, he thinks he knows the direction he was heading before. Just going by a feeling, he points himself somewhat to the left of that, and starts walking.

As he walks, the day starts heating up. The desert, too cold just a couple of hours before, soon becomes an oven again. He sweats a little at first, and then stops. He starts getting worried at that – when you stop sweating he knows that means you’re in trouble – usually right before heat stroke.

[Anonymous No.]

Lets see...

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968833

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968835
He decides that it’s time to try the windshield wiper fluid. He can’t wait any longer – if he passes out, he’s dead. He stops in the shade of a large rock, takes the bottle out, opens it, and takes a mouthful. He slowly swallows it, making it last as long as he can. It feels so good in his dry and cracked throat that he doesn’t even care about the nasty taste. He takes another mouthful, and makes it last too. Slowly, he drinks half the bottle.

He figures that since he’s drinking it, he might as well drink enough to make some difference and keep himself from passing out.

He’s quit worrying about the denaturing of the wiper fluid. If it kills him, it kills him – if he didn’t drink it, he’d die anyway. Besides, he’s pretty sure that whatever substance they denature the fluid with is just designed to make you sick – their way of keeping winos from buying cheap wiper fluid for the ethanol content. He can handle throwing up, if it comes to that.

He walks. He walks in the hot, dry, windless desert. Sand, rocks, hills, dunes, the occasional scrawny cactus or dried bush. No sign of water. Sometimes he’ll see a little movement to one side or the other, but whatever moved is usually gone before he can focus his eyes on it. Probably birds, lizards, or mice. Maybe snakes, though they usually move more at night. He’s careful to stay away from the movements.

[Anonymous No.]

At first I don’t recognize the sound of the ringing of the phone as the sound of the ringing of the phone. I am just spacing out. The ring is like some unrecognizable fragment of memory. As the sound piles up, gradually in my mind it takes the shape of a phone ring. Finally, the air of my apartment hums with the vibration of the ringing of a phone: 100%, absolutely, without a doubt the ringing of the phone. Still lying down and half asleep, I reach out and pick up the phone.

The caller is a woman I can barely remember and who has never made much of an impression on me. She is so slight that she evaporates every day by 4:30. The former girlfriend of an acquaintance of mine. But I hardly knew him. If we met somewhere we did little more than exchange greetings. The same strange reason that brought them together a few years ago also broke them up a couple months back.

“Why don’t you tell me where he is?” she asks.

I look at the receiver, following it with my eyes. The cord is firmly connected to the receiver. Not bored so much as just verifying the connection.

“Why are you asking me?”
“Because nobody else will tell me,” she answers, her voice cold. “Where is he?”
“I have no idea,” I tell her. Even though I answer her I can’t hear my own voice. It doesn’t sound like my own voice.
She doesn’t say anything. She remains quiet.

The receiver becomes a pillar of ice. Everything around me seems to change to ice. It is like being in a J.G. Ballard science fiction story.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968842
After a while, he begins to stagger. He’s not sure if it’s fatigue, heat stroke finally catching him, or maybe he was wrong and the denaturing of the wiper fluid was worse than he thought. He tries to steady himself, and keep going.

After more walking, he comes to a large stretch of sand. This is good! He knows he passed over a stretch of sand in the SUV – he remembers doing donuts in it. Or at least he thinks he remembers it – he’s getting woozy enough and tired enough that he’s not sure what he remembers any more or if he’s hallucinating. But he thinks he remembers it. So he heads off into it, trying to get to the other side, hoping that it gets him closer to the town.

He was heading for a town, wasn’t he? He thinks he was. He isn’t sure any more. He’s not even sure how long he’s been walking any more. Is it still morning? Or has it moved into afternoon and the sun is going down again? It must be afternoon – it seems like it’s been too long since he started out.

He walks through the sand.

[Anonymous No.]

roll

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968839

>9

[Anonymous No.]

“I really don’t know where he is,” I tell her. “He just disappeared without saying a word.”

On the other end of the line she laughs. “I don’t think he’s smart enough to simply disappear.”

It is just like she says. I can’t agree with her more. He really isn’t that smart. But that’s not the reason I don’t reveal his whereabouts to her. If he learns that I told her, then he’ll probably call me. I will get embroiled in their lives again. I was still fed up from my involvement in their past. In a deep hole in my backyard I had already buried the whole incident and my memory of it. I didn’t want to dig it up again. Nobody could dig it up again.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“Don’t you like me?” she blurts. I don’t know how to answer that question. I actually don’t have much of an impression of her.

“I’m sorry,” I repeat. “At the moment I’m making spaghetti.”
“What was that?”
“I’m making spaghetti.” I put some imaginary water into a pot and light the stove with an imaginary match.
“So?” she says.

I put some imaginary spaghetti into the boiling water, it slides down and I add some imaginary salt. I set the imaginary egg timer for fifteen minutes.

“I can’t take my eyes off of it right now. If I do, the spaghetti might stick.”

She doesn’t say anything.

“I’m at the tricky part of the cooking.” In my hand the temperature of the receiver continues to drop.
“So, could you call me back later?” I add hurriedly.
“You’re in the middle of making spaghetti, huh?” she says.
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“Are you eating by yourself?”

“Yep.”

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968844

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968846
After a while, he comes to a big dune in the sand. This is bad. He doesn’t remember any dunes when driving over the sand in his SUV. Or at least he doesn’t think he remembers any. This is bad.

But, he has no other direction to go. Too late to turn back now. He figures that he’ll get to the top of the dune and see if he can see anything from there that helps him find the town. He keeps going up the dune.

Halfway up, he slips in the bad footing of the sand for the second or third time, and falls to his knees. He doesn’t feel like getting back up – he’ll just fall down again. So, he keeps going up the dune on his hand and knees.

While crawling, if his throat weren’t so dry, he’d laugh. He’s finally gotten to the hackneyed image of a man lost in the desert – crawling through the sand on his hands and knees. If would be the perfect image, he imagines, if only his clothes were more ragged. The people crawling through the desert in the cartoons always had ragged clothes. But his have lasted without any rips so far. Somebody will probably find his dessicated corpse half buried in the sand years from now, and his clothes will still be in fine shape -shake the sand out, and a good wash, and they’d be wearable again. He wishes his throat were wet enough to laugh. He coughs a little instead, and it hurts.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968790
>>6968791
>>6968793
>>6968796
>>6968797
>>6968803
>>6968806
>>6968810
>>6968811
>>6968815
>>6968816
>>6968819
>>6968820
>>6968821
>>6968825
>>6968826
>>6968832
>>6968835
>>6968842
>>6968844
>>6968846
Counter-sage!

[Anonymous No.]

i wonder

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968851
He finally makes it to the top of the sand dune. Now that he’s at the top, he struggles a little, but manages to stand up and look around. All he sees is sand. Sand, and more sand. Behind him, about a mile away, he thinks he sees the rocky ground he left to head into this sand. Ahead of him, more dunes, more sand. This isn’t where he drove his SUV. This is Hell. Or close enough.

Again, he doesn’t know what to do. He decides to drink the rest of the wiper fluid while figuring it out. He takes out the bottle, and is removing the cap, when he glances to the side and sees something. Something in the sand. At the bottom of the dune, off to the side, he sees something strange. It’s a flat area, in the sand. He stops taking the cap of the bottle off, and tries to look closer. The area seems to be circular. And it’s dark – darker than the sand. And, there seems to be something in the middle of it, but he can’t tell what it is. He looks as hard as he can, and still can tell from here. He’s going to have to go down there and look.

He puts the bottle back in his pocket, and starts to stumble down the dune. After a few steps, he realizes that he’s in trouble – he’s not going to be able to keep his balance. After a couple of more sliding, tottering steps, he falls and starts to roll down the dune. The sand it so hot when his body hits it that for a minute he thinks he’s caught fire on the way down – like a movie car wreck flashing into flames as it goes over the cliff, before it ever even hits the ground. He closes his eyes and mouth, covers his face with his hands, and waits to stop rolling.

[Anonymous No.]

She sighs. “I really do have a problem.”

“I’m really sorry that I can’t help you.”

“It’s about money, you know.”

“Really?”

“I want him to return it.”

“Of course.”

“Spaghetti huh?”

“Yeah.”

She forces a weak laugh through the phone cord. “See you later.”

“Goodbye,” I say.

After hanging up, I notice that the pool of sunlight on the floor had moved a few centimeters.　I return to my spot on the floor in the middle of the sunlight. I look up at the ceiling.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968859
He stops, at the bottom of the dune. After a minute or two, he finds enough energy to try to sit up and get the sand out of his face and clothes. When he clears his eyes enough, he looks around to make sure that the dark spot in the sand it still there and he hadn’t just imagined it.

So, seeing the large, flat, dark spot on the sand is still there, he begins to crawl towards it. He’d get up and walk towards it, but he doesn’t seem to have the energy to get up and walk right now. He must be in the final stages of dehydration he figures, as he crawls. If this place in the sand doesn’t have water, he’ll likely never make it anywhere else. This is his last chance.

He gets closer and closer, but still can’t see what’s in the middle of the dark area. His eyes won’t quite focus any more for some reason. And lifting his head up to look takes so much effort that he gives up trying. He just keeps crawling.

Finally, he reaches the area he’d seen from the dune. It takes him a minute of crawling on it before he realizes that he’s no longer on sand – he’s now crawling on some kind of dark stone. Stone with some kind of marking on it -a pattern cut into the stone. He’s too tired to stand up and try to see what the pattern is – so he just keeps crawling. He crawls towards the center, where his blurry eyes still see something in the middle of the dark stone area.

[Anonymous No.]

It is sad to consider all of those imaginary bundles of spaghetti that will never be cooked. Maybe I should have told her, I regret that now. At any rate he wasn’t such an important person. A mediocre abstract painter who put on airs, a man who did nothing but talk big. She probably really did need that money back. I wonder what she is doing these days? I suppose at 4:30 in the afternoon her shadow has already vanished.

Durham Samolina That’s a kind of golden wheat grown on the plains of Italy. How would the Italians have reacted if they had known that they were exporting loneliness instead of spaghetti in the year of spaghetti 1971? I bet they would have been astonished. Can you imagine how astonished the Italians would be if they knew that what they were exporting in 1971 was really loneliness?

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968861
His mind, detached in a strange way, notes that either his hands and knees are so burnt by the sand that they no longer feel pain, or that this dark stone, in the middle of a burning desert with a pounding, punishing sun overhead, doesn’t seem to be hot. It almost feels cool. He considers lying down on the nice cool surface.

Cool, dark stone. Not a good sign. He must be hallucinating this. He’s probably in the middle of a patch of sand, already lying face down and dying, and just imagining this whole thing. A desert mirage. Soon the beautiful women carrying pitchers of water will come up and start giving him a drink. Then he’ll know he’s gone.

He decides against laying down on the cool stone. If he’s going to die here in the middle of this hallucination, he at least wants to see what’s in the center before he goes. He keeps crawling.

It’s the third time that he hears the voice before he realizes what he’s hearing. He would swear that someone just said, “Greetings, traveler. You do not look well. Do you hear me?”

[Anonymous No.]

why is there a faggot here posting copypasta?

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968864
He stops crawling. He tries to look up from where he is on his hands and knees, but it’s too much effort to lift his head. So he tries something different – he leans back and tries to sit up on the stone. After a few seconds, he catches his balance, avoids falling on his face, sits up, and tries to focus his eyes. Blurry. He rubs his eyes with the back of his hands and tries again. Better this time.

Yep. He can see. He’s sitting in the middle of a large, flat, dark expanse of stone. Directly next to him, about three feet away, is a white post or pole about two inches in diameter and sticking up about four or five feet out of the stone, at an angle.

And wrapped around this white rod, tail with rattle on it hovering and seeming to be ready to start rattling, is what must be a fifteen foot long desert diamondback rattlesnake, looking directly at him.

He stares at the snake in shock. He doesn’t have the energy to get up and run away. He doesn’t even have the energy to crawl away. This is it, his final resting place. No matter what happens, he’s not going to be able to move from this spot.

[Anonymous No.]

Two days ago (sunday night) I cried myself to sleep. This girl (I will refer to her as Sarah) I have been obsessed with since 3rd grade threw a birthday party on saturday, it was a pretty casual house party, so people brought friends along, of course I was not invited (no girl would ever invite me to a party), but my friend asked me to come along, and of course I jumped at the opportuinity.

Around an hour into the party, it happened that me and Sarah were alone in the kitchen while others danced and talked in the living room. I was there to get a drink, and when I came in and saw her by the fridge, a deep shocking, sinking feeling almost paralysed me with fear, as I just stood there staring at her for about 5 seconds (I am absolutely TERRIFIED of females, especially Sarah, I had no idea she would be in there alone). When she looked at me I quickly glanced away in shame. After about 10 awkward seconds of me staring at the floor and her standing there awkwardly, she finally spoke.

"Uh, hi, you're Nick, right?"
"No. Nicholas."
"Oh, but it's Nick for short, right?"
"No."
"Sorry, I must have you confused with someone else."

I couldn't think of anything to say.

"Want a drink?"
"Yeah. Thanks.

She handed me a beer.

[Anonymous No.]

The materials that were required for producing this particular bladed weapon comes from the organism that I call myself.
The framework that is my body is produced from an alloy consisting mostly of iron, with a carbon content between 0.02% and 1.7 or 2.04% by weight, depending on grade and
instead of a liquid flowing through my veins, arteries, and capillaries, a rapid oxidation process that creates light, heat, smoke occurs.
I have gone through the process of producing multiple various blades for an amount of times exceeding a thousand.
Not currently acquainted with the concept of the cessation of all bodily functions, however, still having no previous knowledge of these functions themselves.
Have remained stoic to ignore the pain caused by the manufacturing process in order to complete the forging of numerous tools of war.
Yet these two intricate, prehensile, multi-fingered body parts normally located at the end of each arm shall not maintain a firm grasp on any single object.
Therefore, I reverently attempt to communicate with some deity or being greater than my own in order obtain
A Work of an Infinite Amount of Weapons Containing One or More Sharp Edges

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968867
Well, at least dying of a bite from this monster should be quicker than dying of thirst. He’ll face his end like a man. He struggles to sit up a little straighter. The snake keeps watching him. He lifts one hand and waves it in the snake’s direction, feebly. The snake watches the hand for a moment, then goes back to watching the man, looking into his eyes.

Hmmm. Maybe the snake had no interest in biting him? It hadn’t rattled yet -that was a good sign. Maybe he wasn’t going to die of snake bite after all.

He then remembers that he’d looked up when he’d reached the center here because he thought he’d heard a voice. He was still very woozy – he was likely to pass out soon, the sun still beat down on him even though he was now on cool stone. He still didn’t have anything to drink. But maybe he had actually heard a voice. This stone didn’t look natural. Nor did that white post sticking up out of the stone. Someone had to have built this.

Maybe they were still nearby. Maybe that was who talked to him. Maybe this snake was even their pet, and that’s why it wasn’t biting.

He tries to clear his throat to say, “Hello,” but his throat is too dry. All that comes out is a coughing or wheezing sound. There is no way he’s going to be able to talk without something to drink. He feels his pocket, and the bottle with the wiper fluid is still there. He shakily pulls the bottle out, almost losing his balance and falling on his back in the process. This isn’t good. He doesn’t have much time left, by his reckoning, before he passes out.

[Anonymous No.]

"I'M STRAIGHT EDGE!!"

I just tried to tell her I was straight edge (and therefore didn't drink), but I was so nervous when she approached me physically that it came out in what sounded like a confontational shout which totally wasn't what I intended.

"Sorry, uh there's a diet pepsi if you like"
"I don't drink diet soft drinks, they are carginogens."
"Oh.."

I couldn't stand the fear of being near her any more, so I scurried away and (again in that nervous shout) blurted out "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" and heard her say "thanks" as I walked back into the living room, up the stairs and into the bathroom where I literally collapsed and started shivering on the floor with fear, tears came from my eyes. After about 5 minutes of just lying there I composed myself and went downstairs again. For the rest of the party I pretty much avoided her and talked with some people I knew.

When me and my friend got back home to my house and played a little PS2 for about half an hour, he left and I said bye. It was at this point I realised he had left his cell phone. As I was about to call him to tell him, it suddenly struck me that he probably had Sarah's number on his phone. I literally sat there for 45 minutes shivering with both anticipation and fear as I saw the number across the screen, begging me to call.

Simple. I'd just call her up, apologise for the awkwardness and ask her if she wanted to get coffee some time. The only problem was this was about the scariest thing imaginable. I felt my body ache with fear as I tried to press the "CALL" button on the cell phone several times but was too scared. I got a disconnecting feeling as if none of this was actually happening to me, like maybe it was all a dream. When I finally got the courage to call, my heart raced as I heard the dial tone.

[Anonymous No.]

I guess there's nothing wrong for a small game of rolling once in a while.

Rolling.

[Anonymous No.]

"Hello?"
"Hey, sorry about earlier, I was just wondering if you wanted to go out for coffee some time ?(WHAT THE FUCK was I thinking??)"
"Sorry, who is this calling?"

I (stupidly) hadn't anticipated she would ask who it was. the question caught me totally off guard. I thought of just saying my name, or giving a fake name, or shouting out "your worst fucking nightmare", or avoiding the question, and a host of other ideas over the course of about 5 seconds. I was too stunned to even reply.

Another 5 seconds of silence.

"Are you still there?"
"Yeah...sorry, I.. it's"
"Oh, Nicholas right?
I was silent again
"Sorry yeah, I - I'm pretty busy lately but maybe- uh I'll call you another time if i get time to go out uh (I could regognize that she had no intention of calling me), what's your number?"
I gave her my number.
"Ok, well bye!"
"Bye."

As I hung up and put the phone down, the realization of what had just happened hit me like a wrecking ball, I collapsed on the sofa and fell asleep with exaustion. About 5 minutes later I get a call.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968874
>>6968868
You have to quote the other posts, man. Random lurkers reading it will find it easier to follow, that way.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968872
He gets the lid off of the bottle, manages to get the bottle to his lips, and pours some of the fluid into his mouth. He sloshes it around, and then swallows it. He coughs a little. His throat feels better. Maybe he can talk now.

He tries again. Ignoring the snake, he turns to look around him, hoping to spot the owner of this place, and croaks out, “Hello? Is there anyone here?”

He hears, from his side, “Greetings. What is it that you want?”

He turns his head, back towards the snake. That’s where the sound had seemed to come from. The only thing he can think of is that there must be a speaker, hidden under the snake, or maybe built into that post. He decides to try asking for help.

“Please,” he croaks again, suddenly feeling dizzy, “I’d love to not be thirsty any more. I’ve been a long time without water. Can you help me?”

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968878


"Hello?"
A male voice.
"Is this Nicholas?"
"Yeah uh who is this?"
"I'm just calling to give you a friendly warning, stay away from Sarah, okay? She's my girlfriend, and she has no interest in you whatsoever, you're a creep."

The realization and jealousy that she had a boyfriend, coupled with the shock and unexpectedness of this call filled me with rage.

"FUCK YOU YOU MOTHER F-UNCLE FUNK" I stuttered incomprehensibly with rage.
"Man you're fucked up in the head aren't you. I'm WARNING you, stay away."

He hung up.

I literally let out a massive scream of both sadness jealousy anger and fear that gripped my entire body. I went to bed and got about 2 hours of sleep.

The next (sunday) morning, I got up feeling like absolute shit. As I always do to when I feel terrible, I force myself to walk outside, go to the mall (5 min walk) where there are lots of people, and buy something or run into someone I know. I couldn't find anyone I knew, so I bought a milkshake and walked out the front enterance, where I saw something that made my heart skip.

Sarah and some guy (probably her boyfriend?) walking into the mall. I saw her glance with shock at me and quickly look away trying to make it seem as if she hadn't noticed me. I rushed towards her

[Anonymous No.]

I'll try.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968881
Looking in the direction of the snake, hoping to see where the voice was coming from this time, he is shocked to see the snake rear back, open its mouth, and speak. He hears it say, as the dizziness overtakes him and he falls forward, face first on the stone, “Very well. Coming up.”

A piercing pain shoots through his shoulder. Suddenly he is awake. He sits up and grabs his shoulder, wincing at the throbbing pain. He’s momentarily disoriented as he looks around, and then he remembers – the crawl across the sand, the dark area of stone, the snake. He sees the snake, still wrapped around the tilted white post, still looking at him.

He reaches up and feels his shoulder, where it hurts. It feels slightly wet. He pulls his fingers away and looks at them – blood. He feels his shoulder again – his shirt has what feels like two holes in it – two puncture holes -they match up with the two aching spots of pain on his shoulder. He had been bitten. By the snake.

“It’ll feel better in a minute.” He looks up – it’s the snake talking. He hadn’t dreamed it. Suddenly he notices – he’s not dizzy any more. And more importantly, he’s not thirsty any more – at all!

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968879
I am not him but...I prefer my /jp/ without post quotes
I don`t know...I feel like we are more connected that way
And also it takes autism to another level by trying to guess which posts are directed at who

[Anonymous No.]

"Somewhere in an alternate universe your waifu dreams about you, her husbando. "
Those words struck me with a certain heaviness, like they were truly profound words of meaning. For a split second I was taken aback my the sheer power of them. But then questions intruded my thought. Who was this guy? And more importantly, how did he know my lifestyle? Why was he talking like a 4chan otaku?

I moved my hand out to hold him on the shoulder, so he would stay in place. Moments before my hand touched his coat, he swooped downwards, slid between my legs and reappeared behind me. His face touched mine, his stubble bristling against my ear, I could feel a greasy warmth from his skin. Rattling a string of words like a machine gun, he said "She frequents a board very much like this one and she posts pictures of you, In this dimension you are a star of your very own slice of life anime.
She has a folder on her computer dedicated to you, it is over 10 GB big and has every conceivable fan art, rule 34, and picture related to you, She sleeps with a tear stained body pillow with your image on it, She is madly in love with you and only you."

Already he had scuttled out of the cubicle and left. I futilely cried out "Who are you! Why are you telling me this!". It was useless.

But then, from behind the door, a voice. That man, as a departing remark, opined "You are loved, mai.". And then, his head comically popped from the side of door and smiled at me. I hadn't noticed it before, but his lips were curved oddly, in the shape of a three. It was kind of funny, but also genuinely well-meaning. A contortionist perhaps? Or a congenital defect such as cleft lip?

To this day, these strange events that occured the night I entered that brothel have never left me.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968887
“Have I died? Is this the afterlife? Why are you biting me in the afterlife?”

“Sorry about that, but I had to bite you,” says the snake. “That’s the way I work. It all comes through the bite. Think of it as natural medicine.”

“You bit me to help me? Why aren’t I thirsty any more? Did you give me a drink before you bit me? How did I drink enough while unconscious to not be thirsty any more? I haven’t had a drink for over two days. Well, except for the windshield wiper fluid… hold it, how in the world does a snake talk? Are you real? Are you some sort of Disney animation?”

“No,” says the snake, “I’m real. As real as you or anyone is, anyway. I didn’t give you a drink. I bit you. That’s how it works – it’s what I do. I bite. I don’t have hands to give you a drink, even if I had water just sitting around here.”

The man sat stunned for a minute. Here he was, sitting in the middle of the desert on some strange stone that should be hot but wasn’t, talking to a snake that could talk back and had just bitten him. And he felt better. Not great – he was still starving and exhausted, but much better – he was no longer thirsty. He had started to sweat again, but only slightly. He felt hot, in this sun, but it was starting to get lower in the sky, and the cool stone beneath him was a relief he could notice now that he was no longer dying of thirst.

[Anonymous No.]

they see me rollin' dey hatin!

[Anonymous No.]

You put your arm around Aya's waist as she kicks off her shoes and sits in your lap. She says nothing as she leans in and kisses you. She tosses her camera off to the side and wraps her arms around you.

Your run your other hand up her leg, under her skirt, and rest it on her upper thigh. She breaks off the kiss and blushes. "W-What are you doing?" she asks. Straining to keep her from noticing your rapidly growing erection, you blurt out something stupid and immediately cringe in embarrassment.

Unfazed, she kisses you again, your tongues locking in a deep embrace. Out of nowhere, you feel Aya's chest heave ever so slightly. She lets out a noise that sounds vaguely like gagging, and then a warm, thick fluid trickles into your mouth. Surprised at first, you try to break away from her kiss, but she holds the back of your head and continues to let the fluid flow into your mouth. Sickened and expecting it to taste like vomit, you are pleasantly surprised when it tastes like melted chocolate. You tentatively swallow some of it, and Aya pushes even more of it into your mouth with her tongue. Continuing to kiss her, you swallow more and more of the chocolate, and Aya moans with growing excitement.

After you've consumed all of it, she pulls away and giggles. "No human has ever let me feed them like that before..." She reaches down into your pants and tugs on your erect dick. "I suppose I should finish what I've started here, hmm?"

[Anonymous No.]

I'd help more but I have to go

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968892
“I might suggest that we take care of that methanol you now have in your system with the next request,” continued the snake. “I can guess why you drank it, but I’m not sure how much you drank, or how much methanol was left in the wiper fluid. That stuff is nasty. It’ll make you go blind in a day or two, if you drank enough of it.”

“Ummm, n-next request?” said the man. He put his hand back on his hurting shoulder and backed away from the snake a little.

“That’s the way it works. If you like, that is,” explained the snake. “You get three requests. Call them wishes, if you wish.” The snake grinned at his own joke, and the man drew back a little further from the show of fangs.

“But there are rules,” the snake continued. “The first request is free. The second requires an agreement of secrecy. The third requires the binding of responsibility.” The snake looks at the man seriously.

“By the way,” the snake says suddenly, “my name is Nathan. Old Nathan, Samuel used to call me. He gave me the name. Before that, most of the Bound used to just call me ‘Snake’. But that got old, and Samuel wouldn’t stand for it. He said that anything that could talk needed a name. He was big into names. You can call me Nate, if you wish.” Again, the snake grinned. “Sorry if I don’t offer to shake, but I think you can understand – my shake sounds somewhat threatening.” The snake give his rattle a little shake.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968896
“Umm, my name is Jack,” said the man, trying to absorb all of this. “Jack Samson.

“Can I ask you a question?” Jack says suddenly. “What happened to the poison…umm, in your bite. Why aren’t I dying now? How did you do that? What do you mean by that’s how you work?”

“That’s more than one question,” grins Nate. “But I’ll still try to answer all of them. First, yes, you can ask me a question.” The snake’s grin gets wider. “Second, the poison is in you. It changed you. You now no longer need to drink. That’s what you asked for. Or, well, technically, you asked to not be thirsty any more – but ‘any more’ is such a vague term. I decided to make it permanent – now, as long as you live, you shouldn’t need to drink much at all. Your body will conserve water very efficiently. You should be able to get enough just from the food you eat – much like a creature of the desert. You’ve been changed.
“For the third question,” Nate continues, “you are still dying. Besides the effects of that methanol in your system, you’re a man – and men are mortal. In your current state, I give you no more than about another 50 years. Assuming you get out of this desert, alive, that is.” Nate seemed vastly amused at his own humor, and continued his wide grin.

“As for the fourth question,” Nate said, looking more serious as far as Jack could tell, as Jack was just now working on his ability to read talking-snake emotions from snake facial features, “first you have to agree to make a second request and become bound by the secrecy, or I can’t tell you.”

“Wait,” joked Jack, “isn’t this where you say you could tell me, but you’d have to kill me?”

“I thought that was implied.” Nate continued to look serious.

[Anonymous No.]

>>>/a/
>>>/b/

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968894
thanks anon for that
haven't been able to get a boner for awhile cause of this shitty sickness

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968899
“Ummm…yeah.” Jack leaned back a little as he remembered again that he was talking to a fifteen foot poisonous reptile with a reputation for having a nasty temper. “So, what is this ‘Bound by Secrecy’ stuff, and can you really stop the effects of the methanol?” Jack thought for a second. “And, what do you mean methanol, anyway? I thought these days they use ethanol in wiper fluid, and just denature it?”

“They may, I don’t really know,” said Nate. “I haven’t gotten out in a while. Maybe they do. All I know is that I smell methanol on your breath and on that bottle in your pocket. And the blue color of the liquid when you pulled it out to drink some let me guess that it was wiper fluid. I assume that they still color wiper fluid blue?”

“Yeah, they do,” said Jack.

“I figured,” replied Nate. “As for being bound by secrecy – with the fulfillment of your next request, you will be bound to say nothing about me, this place, or any of the information I will tell you after that, when you decide to go back out to your kind. You won’t be allowed to talk about me, write about me, use sign language, charades, or even act in a way that will lead someone to guess correctly about me. You’ll be bound to secrecy. Of course, I’ll also ask you to promise not to give me away, and as I’m guessing that you’re a man of your word, you’ll never test the binding anyway, so you won’t notice.” Nate said the last part with utter confidence.

[Anonymous No.]

ROLL

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968905
Jack, who had always prided himself on being a man of his word, felt a little nervous at this. “Ummm, hey, Nate, who are you? How did you know that? Are you, umm, omniscient, or something?”

Well, Jack,” said Nate sadly, “I can’t tell you that, unless you make the second request.” Nate looked away for a minute, then looked back.

“Umm, well, ok,” said Jack, “what is this about a second request? What can I ask for? Are you allowed to tell me that?”

“Sure!” said Nate, brightening. “You’re allowed to ask for changes. Changes to yourself. They’re like wishes, but they can only affect you. Oh, and before you ask, I can’t give you immortality. Or omniscience. Or omnipresence, for that matter. Though I might be able to make you gaseous and yet remain alive, and then you could spread through the atmosphere and sort of be omnipresent. But what good would that be – you still wouldn’t be omniscient and thus still could only focus on one thing at a time. Not very useful, at least in my opinion.” Nate stopped when he realized that Jack was staring at him.
“Well, anyway,” continued Nate, “I’d probably suggest giving you permanent good health. It would negate the methanol now in your system, you’d be immune to most poisons and diseases, and you’d tend to live a very long time, barring accident, of course. And you’ll even have a tendency to recover from accidents well. It always seemed like a good choice for a request to me.”

“Cure the methanol poisoning, huh?” said Jack. “And keep me healthy for a long time? Hmmm. It doesn’t sound bad at that. And it has to be a request about a change to me? I can’t ask to be rich, right? Because that’s not really a change to me?”

“Right,” nodded Nate.

“Could I ask to be a genius and permanently healthy?” Jack asked, hopefully.

“That takes two requests, Jack.”

[Anonymous No.]

I just woke up and the first thing i see is
>61 posts and 12 image replies omitted. Click Reply to view.

in a roll thread
What the fuck /jp/

[Anonymous No.]

Will I get my waifu?

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968910
“Yeah, I figured so,” said Jack. “But I could ask to be a genius? I could become the smartest scientist in the world? Or the best athlete?”

“Well, I could make you very smart,” admitted Nate, “but that wouldn’t necessarily make you the best scientist in the world. Or, I could make you very athletic, but it wouldn’t necessarily make you the best athlete either. You’ve heard the saying that 99% of genius is hard work? Well, there’s some truth to that. I can give you the talent, but I can’t make you work hard. It all depends on what you decide to do with it.”

“Hmmm,” said Jack. “Ok, I think I understand. And I get a third request, after this one?”

“Maybe,” said Nate, “it depends on what you decide then. There are more rules for the third request that I can only tell you about after the second request. You know how it goes.” Nate looked like he’d shrug, if he had shoulders.

“Ok, well, since I’d rather not be blind in a day or two, and permanent health doesn’t sound bad, then consider that my second request. Officially. Do I need to sign in blood or something?”

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968821
>>6968826
>>6968832
>>6968835
>>6968842
>>6968846
>>6968851
>>6968859
>>6968861
>>6968864
>>6968867
>>6968872
>>6968881
>>6968887
>>6968892
>>6968896
>>6968899

so should I spoil the punchline of this thing? I read it like four years ago and while it's an ingenious shaggy dog story it's only really worth the build up if you are a pun sommelier

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968914
“No,” said Nate. “Just hold out your hand. Or heel.” Nate grinned. “Or whatever part you want me to bite. I have to bite you again. Like I said, that’s how it works – the poison, you know,” Nate said apologetically.

Jack winced a little and felt his shoulder, where the last bite was. Hey, it didn’t hurt any more. Just like Nate had said. That made Jack feel better about the biting business. But still, standing still while a fifteen foot snake sunk it’s fangs into you. Jack stood up. Ignoring how good it felt to be able to stand again, and the hunger starting to gnaw at his stomach, Jack tried to decide where he wanted to get bitten. Despite knowing that it wouldn’t hurt for long, Jack knew that this wasn’t going to be easy.

“Hey, Jack,” Nate suddenly said, looking past Jack towards the dunes behind him, “is that someone else coming up over there?”

Jack spun around and looked. Who else could be out here in the middle of nowhere? And did they bring food?

[Anonymous No.]

>so many Touhou characters
if I miss I'll kill someone

[Anonymous No.]

　　　　　　　　　　　　 -───-　、　　I AM A TROLL AND I'M POSTING A THREAD
　　　　　　　　　／::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::＼
.　　　　　　 　 /:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::ヽ　POSTY POSTY THREAD
　　　　　　／7::::: /::::::::::∧::::::::::＼:::::ヽ:ﾊ　POSTY POSTY THREAD
.　　　 　 /:::::{::::::::| ::::::: ⌒i八:::::＼jヽ::::ｉ::i　　　　　 ＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿_
　　　　　|::ｉ:八ミ:::|:::::::/7:::::T ＼}r:::‐rV|::|　　　　 /〉------------------ﾍ
　　　　　|::ｉ::::::ヾ:::|::::::| |::::::::|　　 |::::::| ﾘｉ::|:　　　 //　￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣/
　　　　　|::ｉ::::::::::Ｙ| ::::i　､::::ﾉ　 　 ､::ﾉ（:::::|　　　//　　 　 　 　 　 　 　 　 　 /
　　　　　|::i::::::::::ｉﾄ| ::::|、　　　　 　 　 ﾉ::::|:　　//　　　　　 　 　 　 　 　 　 /
　　　　　|::i::::::::::i八:::::V＞　,＿_..　イ:::::jﾉ　 //　　　　　 　 　 　 　 　 　 /
　　　　　i八:::::::::∨＼乙∨∨　＼厶イ　　//　　 　 　 　 　 　 　 　 　 /
　　　　　　　＼{V　　｀⌒>‐く　　 j＞r- ､//　　 　 　 　 　 　 　 　 　 /
　　　　　　　　../　￣`7‐ﾍ._))）＞ヘ人ﾉ/〈_＿_＿_＿__＿__＿__＿__ノ

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968917
You better not. I've been waiting for the chance to post this one.

>>6968918
Wait a minute, there was nobody over there. What was Nate…

Jack let out a bellow as he felt two fangs sink into his rear end, through his jeans…

Jack sat down carefully, favoring his more tender buttock. “I would have decided, eventually, Nate. I was just thinking about it. You didn’t have to

hoodwink me like that.”

“I’ve been doing this a long time, Jack,” said Nate, confidently. “You humans have a hard time sitting still and letting a snake bite you – especially one my size. And besides, admit it – it’s only been a couple of minutes and it already doesn’t hurt any more, does it? That’s because of the health benefit with this one. I told you that you’d heal quickly now.”

“Yeah, well, still,” said Jack, “it’s the principle of the thing. And nobody likes being bitten in the butt! Couldn’t you have gotten my calf or something instead?”

“More meat in the typical human butt,” replied Nate. “And less chance you accidentally kick me or move at the last second.”

[Anonymous No.]

acesulfam

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968924
“Yeah, right. So, tell me all of these wonderful secrets that I now qualify to hear,” answered Jack.

“Ok,” said Nate. “Do you want to ask questions first, or do you want me to just start talking?”

“Just talk,” said Jack. “I’ll sit here and try to not think about food.”

“We could go try to rustle up some food for you first, if you like,” answered Nate.

“Hey! You didn’t tell me you had food around here, Nate!” Jack jumped up. “What do we have? Am I in walking distance to town? Or can you magically whip up food along with your other powers?” Jack was almost shouting with excitement. His stomach had been growling for hours.

“I was thinking more like I could flush something out of its hole and bite it for you, and you could skin it and eat it. Assuming you have a knife, that is,” replied Nate, with the grin that Jack was starting to get used to.
“Ugh,” said Jack, sitting back down. “I think I’ll pass. I can last a little longer before I get desperate enough to eat desert rat, or whatever else it is you find out here. And there’s nothing to burn – I’d have to eat it raw. No thanks. Just talk.”

“Ok,” replied Nate, still grinning. “But I’d better hurry, before you start looking at me as food.

Nate reared back a little, looked around for a second, and then continued. “You, Jack, are sitting in the middle of the Garden of Eden.”

Jack looked around at the sand and dunes and then looked back at Nate sceptically.

“Well, that’s the best I can figure it, anyway, Jack,” said Nate. “Stand up and look at the symbol on the rock here.” Nate gestured around the dark stone they were both sitting on with his nose.

[Anonymous No.]

DICE ROLL!

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968929
Jack stood up and looked. Carved into the stone in a bas-relief was a representation of a large tree. The angled-pole that Nate was wrapped around was coming out of the trunk of the tree, right below where the main branches left the truck to reach out across the stone. It was very well done – it looked more like a tree had been reduced to almost two dimensions and embedded in the stone than it did like a carving.

Jack walked around and looked at the details in the fading light of the setting sun. He wished he’d looked at it while the sun was higher in the sky.

Wait! The sun was setting! That meant he was going to have to spend another night out here! Arrrgh!

Jack looked out across the desert for a little bit, and then came back and stood next to Nate. “In all the excitement, I almost forgot, Nate,” said Jack. “Which way is it back to town? And how far? I’m eventually going to have to head back – I’m not sure I’ll be able to survive by eating raw desert critters for long. And even if I can, I’m not sure I’ll want to.”

[Anonymous No.]

Rolllllll

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968933
“It’s about 30 miles that way.” Nate pointed, with the rattle on his tail this time. As far as Jack could tell, it was a direction at right angles to the way he’d been going when he was crawling here. “But that’s 30 miles by the way the crow flies. It’s about 40 by the way a man walks. You should be able to do it in about half a day with your improved endurance, if you head out early tomorrow, Jack.”

Jack looked out the way the snake had pointed for a few seconds more, and then sat back down. It was getting dark. Not much he could do about heading out right now. And besides, Nate was just about to get to the interesting stuff. “Garden of Eden? As best as you can figure it?”

“Well, yeah, as best as I and Samuel could figure it anyway,” said Nate. “He figured that the story just got a little mixed up. You know, snake, in a ‘tree’, offering ‘temptations’, making bargains. That kind stuff. But he could never quite figure out how the Hebrews found out about this spot from across the ocean. He worried about that for a while.”

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968938
“Garden of Eden, hunh?” said Jack. “How long have you been here, Nate?”

“No idea, really,” replied Nate. “A long time. It never occurred to me to count years, until recently, and by then, of course, it was too late. But I do remember when this whole place was green, so I figure it’s been thousands of years, at least.”

“So, are you the snake that tempted Eve?” said Jack.

“Beats me,” said Nate. “Maybe. I can’t remember if the first one of your kind that I talked to was female or not, and I never got a name, but it could have been. And I suppose she could have considered my offer to grant requests a ‘temptation’, though I’ve rarely had refusals.”

“Well, umm, how did you get here then? And why is that white pole stuck out of the stone there?” asked Jack.
“Dad left me here. Or, I assume it was my dad. It was another snake – much bigger than I was back then. I remember talking to him, but I don’t remember if it was in a language, or just kind of understanding what he wanted. But one day, he brought me to this stone, told me about it, and asked me to do something for him. I talked it over with him for a while, then agreed. I’ve been here ever since.

“What is this place?” said Jack. “And what did he ask you to do?”

“Well, you see this pole here, sticking out of the stone?” Nate loosened his coils around the tilted white pole and showed Jack where it descended into the stone. The pole was tilted at about a 45 degree angle and seemed to enter the stone in an eighteen inch slot cut into the stone. Jack leaned over and looked. The slot was dark and the pole went down into it as far as Jack could see in the dim light. Jack reached out to touch the pole, but Nate was suddenly there in the way.

“You can’t touch that yet, Jack,” said Nate.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968939
“Why not?” asked Jack.

“I haven’t explained it to you yet,” replied Nate.

“Well, it kinda looks like a lever or something,” said Jack. “You’d push it that way, and it would move in the slot.”

“Yep, that’s what it is,” replied Nate.

“What does it do?” asked Jack. “End the world.”

“Oh, no,” said Nate. “Nothing that drastic. It just ends humanity. I call it ‘The Lever of Doom’.” For the last few words Nate had used a deeper, ringing voice. He tried to look serious for a few seconds, and then gave up and grinned.

Jack was initially startled by Nate’s pronouncement, but when Nate grinned Jack laughed. “Ha! You almost had me fooled for a second there. What does it really do?”

“Oh, it really ends humanity, like I said,” smirked Nate. “I just thought the voice I used was funny, didn’t you?”

Nate continued to grin.

“A lever to end humanity?” asked Jack. “What in the world is that for? Why would anyone need to end humanity?”

[Anonymous No.]

WAIFU RUMBLE

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968942
“Well,” replied Nate, “I get the idea that maybe humanity was an experiment. Or maybe the Big Guy just thought, that if humanity started going really bad, there should be a way to end it. I’m not really sure. All I know are the rules, and the guesses that Samuel and I had about why it’s here. I didn’t think to ask back when I started here.”

“Rules? What rules?” asked Jack.

“The rules are that I can’t tell anybody about it or let them touch it unless they agree to be bound to secrecy by a bite. And that only one human can be bound in that way at a time. That’s it.” explained Nate.

Jack looked somewhat shocked. “You mean that I could pull the lever now? You’d let me end humanity?”

“Yep,” replied Nate, “if you want to.” Nate looked at Jack carefully. “Do you want to, Jack?”

“Umm, no.” said Jack, stepping a little further back from the lever. “Why in the world would anyone want to end humanity? It’d take a psychotic to want that! Or worse, a suicidal psychotic, because it would kill him too, wouldn’t it?”

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968946
“Yep,” replied Nate, “being as he’d be human too.”

“Has anyone ever seriously considered it?” asked Nate. “Any of those bound to secrecy, that is?”

“Well, of course, I think they’ve all seriously considered it at one time or another. Being given that kind of responsibility makes you sit down and think, or so I’m told. Samuel considered it several times. He’d often get disgusted with humanity, come out here, and just hold the lever for a while. But he never pulled it. Or you wouldn’t be here.” Nate grinned some more.

Jack sat down, well back from the lever. He looked thoughtful and puzzled at the same time. After a bit, he said, “So this makes me the Judge of humanity? I get to decide whether they keep going or just end? Me?”

“That seems to be it,” agreed Nate.

“What kind of criteria do I use to decide?” said Jack. “How do I make this decision? Am I supposed to decide if they’re good? Or too many of them are bad? Or that they’re going the wrong way? Is there a set of rules for that?”

[Thoughtless celestial !!Mw3JLMISabd No.]

Why did you include guys in that waifu list?

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968949
“Nope,” replied Nate. “You pretty much just have to decide on your own. It’s up to you, however you want to decide it. I guess that you’re just supposed to know.”

“But what if I get mad at someone? Or some girl dumps me and I feel horrible? Couldn’t I make a mistake? How do I know that I won’t screw up?” protested Jack.

Nate gave his kind of snake-like shrug again. “You don’t. You just have to try your best, Jack.”

Jack sat there for a while, staring off into the desert that was rapidly getting dark, chewing on a fingernail.

Suddenly, Jack turned around and looked at the snake. “Nate, was Samuel the one bound to this before me?”

“Yep,” replied Nate. “He was a good guy. Talked to me a lot. Taught me to read and brought me books. I think I still have a good pile of them buried in the sand around here somewhere. I still miss him. He died a few months ago.”
“Sounds like a good guy,” agreed Jack. “How did he handle this, when you first told him. What did he do?”

“Well,” said Nate, “he sat down for a while, thought about it for a bit, and then asked me some questions, much like you’re doing.”

“What did he ask you, if you’re allowed to tell me?” asked Jack.

“He asked me about the third request,” replied Nate.

“Aha!” It was Jack’s turn to grin. “And what did you tell him?”

“I told him the rules for the third request. That to get the third request you have to agree to this whole thing. That if it ever comes to the point that you really think that humanity should be ended, that you’ll come here and end it. You won’t avoid it, and you won’t wimp out.” Nate looked serious again. “And you’ll be bound to do it too, Jack.”

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968955
“Hmmm.” Jack looked back out into the darkness for a while.

Nate watched him, waiting.

“Nate,” continued Jack, quietly, eventually. “What did Samuel ask for with his third request?”

Nate sounded like he was grinning again as he replied, also quietly, “Wisdom, Jack. He asked for wisdom. As much as I could give him.”

“Ok,” said Jack, suddenly, standing up and facing away from Nate, “give it to me.

Nate looked at Jack’s backside. “Give you what, Jack?”

“Give me that wisdom. The same stuff that Samuel asked for. If it helped him, maybe it’ll help me too.” Jack turned his head to look back over his shoulder at Nate. “It did help him, right?”
“He said it did,” replied Nate. “But he seemed a little quieter afterward. Like he had a lot to think about.”

“Well, yeah, I can see that,” said Jack. “So, give it to me.” Jack turned toface away from Nate again, bent over slightly and tensed up.

Nate watched Jack tense up with a little exasperation. If he bit Jack now, Jack would likely jump out of his skin and maybe hurt them both.

“You remember that you’ll be bound to destroy humanity if it ever looks like it needs it, right Jack?” asked Nate, shifting position.

“Yeah, yeah, I got that,” replied Jack, eyes squeezed tightly shut and body tense, not noticing the change in direction of Nate’s voice.

“And,” continued Nate, from his new position, “do you remember that you’ll turn bright purple, and grow big horns and extra eyes?”

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968958
“Yeah, yeah…Hey, wait a minute!” said Jack, opening his eyes, straightening up and turning around. “Purple?!” He didn’t see Nate there. With the moonlight Jack could see that the lever extended up from its slot in the rock without the snake wrapped around it.

Jack heard, from behind him, Nate’s “Just Kidding!” right before he felt the now familiar piercing pain, this time in the other buttock.

Jack sat on the edge of the dark stone in the rapidly cooling air, his feet extending out into the sand. He stared out into the darkness, listening to the wind stir the sand, occasionally rubbing his butt where he’d been recently bitten.

Nate had left for a little while, had come back with a desert-rodent-shaped bulge somewhere in his middle, and was now wrapped back around the lever, his tongue flicking out into the desert night’s air the only sign that he was still awake.
Occasionally Jack, with his toes absentmindedly digging in the sand while he thought, would ask Nate a question without turning around.

“Nate, do accidents count?”

Nate lifted his head a little bit. “What do you mean, Jack?”

Jack tilted his head back like he was looking at the stars. “You know, accidents. If I accidentally fall on the lever, without meaning to, does that still wipe out humanity?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it does, Jack. I’d suggest you be careful about that if you start feeling wobbly,” said Nate with some amusement.

A little later – “Does it have to be me that pulls the lever?” asked Jack.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968966
“That’s the rule, Jack. Nobody else can pull it,” answered Nate.

“No,” Jack shook his head, “I meant does it have to be my hand? Could I pull the lever with a rope tied around it? Or push it with a stick? Or throw a rock?”

“Yes, those should work,” replied Nate. “Though I’m not sure how complicated you could get. Samuel thought about trying to build some kind of remote control for it once, but gave it up. Everything he’d build would be gone by the next sunrise, if it was touching the stone, or over it. I told him that in the past others that had been bound had tried to bury the lever so they wouldn’t be tempted to pull it, but every time the stones or sand or whatever had disappeared.”

“Wow,” said Jack, “Cool.” Jack leaned back until only his elbows kept him off of the stone and looked up into the sky.

“Nate, how long did Samuel live? One of his wishes was for health too, right?” asked Jack.
“Yes,” replied Nate, “it was. He lived 167 years, Jack.”

“Wow, 167 years. That’s almost 140 more years I’ll live if I live as long. Do you know what he died of, Nate?”

“He died of getting tired of living, Jack,” Nate said, sounding somewhat sad.

Jack turned his head to look at Nate in the starlight.

Nate looked back. “Samuel knew he wasn’t going to be able to stay in society. He figured that they’d eventually see him still alive and start questioning it, so he decided that he’d have to disappear after a while. He faked his death once, but changed his mind – he decided it was too early and he could stay for a little longer. He wasn’t very fond of mankind, but he liked the attention. Most of the time, anyway.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968969
“His daughter and then his wife dying almost did him in though. He didn’t stay in society much longer after that. He eventually came out here to spend time talking to me and thinking about pulling the lever. A few months ago he told me he’d had enough. It was his time.”

“And then he just died?” asked Jack.

Nate shook his head a little. “He made his forth request, Jack. There’s only one thing you can ask for the fourth request. The last bite.

After a bit Nate continued, “He told me that he was tired, that it was his time. He reassured me that someone new would show up soon, like they always had.

After another pause, Nate finished, “Samuel’s body disappeared off the stone with the sunrise.”
Jack lay back down and looked at the sky, leaving Nate alone with his memories. It was a long time until Jack’s breathing evened out into sleep.

Jack woke with the sunrise the next morning. He was a little chilled with the morning desert air, but overall was feeling pretty good. Well, except that his stomach was grumbling and he wasn’t willing to eat raw desert rat.

So, after getting directions to town from Nate, making sure he knew how to get back, and reassuring Nate that he’d be back soon, Jack started the long walk back to town. With his new health and Nate’s good directions, he made it back easily.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968974
Jack caught a bus back to the city, and showed up for work the next day, little worse for the wear and with a story about getting lost in the desert and walking back out. Within a couple of days Jack had talked a friend with a tow truck into going back out into the desert with him to fetch the SUV. They found it after a couple of hours of searching and towed it back without incident. Jack was careful not to even look in the direction of Nate’s lever, though their path back didn’t come within sight of it.

Before the next weekend, Jack had gone to a couple of stores, including a book store, and had gotten his SUV back from the mechanic, with a warning to avoid any more joyriding in the desert. On Saturday, Jack headed back to see Nate.

Jack parked a little way out of the small town near Nate, loaded up his new backpack with camping gear and the things he was bringing for Nate, and then started walking. He figured that walking would leave the least trail, and he knew that while not many people camped in the desert, it wasn’t unheard of, and shouldn’t really raise suspicions.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968979
Jack had brought more books for Nate – recent books, magazines, newspapers. Some things that would catch Nate up with what was happening in the world, others that were just good books to read. He spent the weekend with Nate, and then headed out again, telling Nate that he’d be back again soon, but that he had things to do first.

Over four months later Jack was back to see Nate again. This time he brought a laptop with him – a specially modified laptop. It had a solar recharger, special filters and seals to keep out the sand, a satellite link-up, and a special keyboard and joystick that Jack hoped that a fifteen-foot rattlesnake would be able to use. And, it had been hacked to not give out its location to the satellite.

After that Jack could e-mail Nate to keep in touch, but still visited him fairly regularly – at least once or twice a year.
After the first year, Jack quit his job. For some reason, with the wisdom he ‘d been given, and the knowledge that he could live for over 150 years, working in a nine to five job for someone else didn’t seem that worthwhile any more. Jack went back to school.

Eventually, Jack started writing. Perhaps because of the wisdom, or perhaps because of his new perspective, he wrote well. People liked what he wrote, and he became well known for it. After a time, Jack bought an RV and started traveling around the country for book signings and readings.

But, he still remembered to drop by and visit Nate occasionally.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968984
On one of the visits Nate seemed quieter than usual. Not that Nate had been a fountain of joy lately. Jack’s best guess was that Nate was still missing Samuel, and though Jack had tried, he still hadn’t been able to replace Samuel in Nate’s eyes. Nate had been getting quieter each visit. But on this visit Nate didn’t even speak when Jack walked up to the lever. He nodded at Jack, and then went back to staring into the desert. Jack, respecting Nate’s silence, sat down and waited.

After a few minutes, Nate spoke. “Jack, I have someone to introduce you to.”

Jack looked surprised. “Someone to introduce me to?” Jack looked around, and then looked carefully back at Nate. “This something to do with the Big Guy?

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968992
“No, no,” replied Nate. “This is more personal. I want you to meet my son.” Nate looked over at the nearest sand dune. “Sammy!”

Jack watched as a four foot long desert rattlesnake crawled from behind the dune and up to the stone base of the lever.

“Yo, Jack,” said the new, much smaller snake.

“Yo, Sammy” replied Jack. Jack looked at Nate. “Named after Samuel, I assume?”

Nate nodded. “Jack, I’ve got a favor to ask you. Could you show Sammy around for me?” Nate unwrapped himself from the lever and slithered over to the edge of the stone and looked across the sands. “When Samuel first told me about the world, and brought me books and pictures, I wished that I could go see it. I wanted to see the great forests, the canyons, the cities, even the other deserts, to see if they felt and smelled the same. I want my son to have that chance – to see the world. Before he becomes bound here like I have been.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968995
“He’s seen it in pictures, over the computer that you brought me. But I hear that it’s not the same. That being there is different. I want him to have that. Think you can do that for me, Jack?”

Jack nodded. This was obviously very important to Nate, so Jack didn’t even joke about taking a talking rattlesnake out to see the world. “Yeah, I can do that for you, Nate. Is that all you need?” Jack could sense that was something more.

Nate looked at Sammy. Sammy looked back at Nate for a second and then said, “Oh, yeah. Ummm, I’ve gotta go pack. Back in a little bit Jack. Nice to meet ya!” Sammy slithered back over the dune and out of sight.

Nate watched Sammy disappear and then looked back at Jack. “Jack, this is my first son. My first offspring through all the years. You don’t even want to know what it took for me to find a mate.” Nate grinned to himself. “But anyway, I had a son for a reason. I’m tired. I’m ready for it to be over. I needed a replacement.”
Jack considered this for a minute. “So, you’re ready to come see the world, and you wanted him to watch the lever while you were gone?”

Nate shook his head. “No, Jack – you’re a better guesser than that. You’ve already figured out – I’m bound here – there’s only one way for me to leave here. And I’m ready. It’s my time to die.”

Jack looked more closely at Nate. He could tell Nate had thought about this – probably for quite a while. Jack had trouble imagining what it would be like to be as old as Nate, but Jack could already tell that in another hundred or two hundred years, he might be getting tired of life himself. Jack could understand Samuel’s decision, and now Nate’s. So, all Jack said was, “What do you want me to do?”

[Anonymous No.]

>>6968997
Nate nodded. “Thanks, Jack. I only want two things. One – show Sammy around the world – let him get his fill of it, until he’s ready to come back here and take over. Two – give me the fourth request.

“I can’t just decide to die, not any more than you can. I won’t even die of old age like you eventually will, even though it’ll be a long time from now. I need to be killed. Once Sammy is back here, ready to take over, I’ll be able to die. And I need you to kill me.

“I’ve even thought about how. Poisons and other drugs won’t work on me. And I’ve seen pictures of snakes that were shot – some of them live for days, so that’s out too. So, I want you to bring back a sword.
Nate turned away to look back to the dune that Sammy had gone behind. “I’d say an axe, but that’s somewhat undignified – putting my head on the ground or a chopping block like that. No, I like a sword. A time-honored way of going out. A dignified way to die. And, most importantly, it should work, even on me.

“You willing to do that for me, Jack?” Nate turned back to look at Jack.

“Yeah, Nate,” replied Jack solemnly, “I think I can handle that.”

Nate nodded. “Good!” He turned back toward the dune and shouted, “Sammy! Jack’s about ready to leave!” Then quietly, “Thanks, Jack.”

[Anonymous No.]

>>6969005
Jack didn’t have anything to say to that, so he waited for Sammy to make it back to the lever, nodded to him, nodded a final time to Nate, and then headed into the desert with Sammy following. Over the next several years Sammy and Jack kept in touch with Nate through e-mail as they went about their adventures. They made a goal of visiting every country in the world, and did a respectable job of it. Sammy had a natural gift for languages, as Jack expected he would, and even ended up acting as a translator for Jack in a few of the countries. Jack managed to keep the talking rattlesnake hidden, even so, and by the time they were nearing the end of their tour of countries, Sammy had only been spotted a few times. While there were several people that had seen enough to startle them greatly, nobody had enough evidence to prove anything, and while a few wild rumors and storied followed Jack and Sammy around, nothing ever hit the newspapers or the public in general.

When they finished the tour of countries, Jack suggested that they try some undersea diving. They did. And spelunking. They did that too. Sammy finally drew the line at visiting Antarctica. He’d come to realize that Jack was stalling. After talking to his Dad about it over e-mail, he figured out that Jack probably didn’t want to have to kill Nate. Nate told Sammy that humans could be squeamish about killing friends and acquaintances.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6969009
So, Sammy eventually put his tail down (as he didn’t have a foot) and told Jack that it was time – he was ready to go back and take up his duties from his dad. Jack, delayed it a little more by insisting that they go back to Japan and buy an appropriate sword. He even stretched it a little more by getting lessons in how to use the sword. But, eventually, he’d learned as much as he was likely to without dedicating his life to it, and was definitely competent enough to take the head off of a snake. It was time to head back and see Nate.

When they got back to the US, Jack got the old RV out of storage where he and Sammy had left it after their tour of the fifty states, he loaded up Sammy and the sword, and they headed for the desert.
When they got to the small town that Jack had been trying to find those years ago when he’d met Nate, Jack was in a funk. He didn’t really feel like walking all of the way out there. Not only that, but he’d forgotten to figure the travel time correctly, and it was late afternoon. They’d either have to spend the night in town and walk out tomorrow, or walk in the dark.

As Jack was afraid that if he waited one more night he might lose his resolve, he decided that he’d go ahead and drive the RV out there. It was only going to be this once, and Jack would go back and cover the tracks afterward. They ought to be able to make it out there by nightfall if they drove, and then they could get it over tonight.

Jack told Sammy to e-mail Nate that they were coming as he drove out of sight of the town on the road. They then pulled off the road and headed out into the desert.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6969013
Everything went well, until they got to the sand dunes. Jack had been nursing the RV along the whole time, over the rocks, through the creek beds, revving the engine the few times they almost got stuck. When they came to the dunes, Jack didn’t really think about it, he just downshifted and headed up the first one. By the third dune, Jack started to regret that he’d decided to try driving on the sand. The RV was fishtailling and losing traction. Jack was having to work it up each dune slowly and was trying to keep from losing control each time they came over the top and slid down the other side. Sammy had come up to sit in the passenger seat, coiled up and laughing at Jack’s driving.

As they came over the top of the fourth dune, the biggest one yet, Jack saw that this was the final dune – the stone, the lever, and somewhere Nate, waited below. Jack put on the brakes, but he’d gone a little too far. The RV started slipping down the other side.
Jack tried turning the wheel, but he didn’t have enough traction. He pumped the brakes – no response. They started sliding down the hill, faster and faster.

Jack felt a shock go through him as he suddenly realized that they were heading for the lever. He looked down – the RV was directly on course for it. If Jack didn’t do something, the RV would hit it. He was about to end humanity.

Jack steered more frantically, trying to get traction. It still wasn’t working. The dune was too steep, and the sand too loose. In a split second, Jack realized that his only chance would be once he hit the stone around the lever – he should have traction on the stone for just a second before he hit the lever – he wouldn’t have time to stop, but he should be able to steer away.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6969013
Be sure to use spoiler tags on the punchline so people don't accidentally read it first.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6969018
Way ahead of you. Just two more to go.

>>6969016
Jack took a better grip on the steering wheel and tried to turn the RV a little bit – every little bit would help. He’d have to time his turn just right.

The RV got to the bottom of the dune, sliding at an amazing speed in the sand. Just before they reached the stone Jack looked across it to check that they were still heading for the lever. They were. But Jack noticed something else that he hadn’t seen from the top of the dune. Nate wasn’t wrapped around the lever. He was off to the side of the lever, but still on the stone, waiting for them. The problem was, he was waiting on the same side of the lever that Jack had picked to steer towards to avoid the lever. The RV was already starting to drift that way a little in its mad rush across the sand and there was no way that Jack was going to be able to go around the lever to the other side.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6969020
Jack had an instant of realization. He was either going to have to hit the lever, or run over Nate. He glanced over at Sammy and saw that Sammy realized the same thing.

Jack took a firmer grip on the steering wheel as the RV ran up on the stone. Shouting to Sammy as he pulled the steering wheel, “BETTER NATE THAN LEVER,” he ran over the snake.

[Anonymous No.]

rollroll

[Anonymous No.]

>>6969157
>>>/b/

[Anonymous No.]

>>6969027

Man I remember this "joke", it's very engrossing.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6969170
That post did not warrant a bump.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6969157
Anonymous, why are you such an idiot? You jaundiced jumped up, vercordiously pusillanimous piffle. Your vileseome existence nauseates me beyond compare. It is politically correct when discussing your faults to use certain words to denote your humanness above your disability. But in your case, there is nothing human. You are just challenged, you are just different. Given a choice of stepping in something nasty on the sidewalk, or bidding you good morning, I would happily choose the former. Single-handedly, you have wrenched all meaning out of life. Congratulations. As I write this I try vainly to think of something, anything, which redeems in some small way your utterly pointless existence. The only thing that comes to mind is that you have taught me hate. Pure, unmitigated hate. I have had fantasies about attacking you with a machete, but I dare not. I once cut up a starfish, which was so neurologically simple that each piece grew into a clone of the original. Your coleopteron brain no doubt shares certain appalling similarities with such creatures. You, misguided as you are, might be asking yourself what you have done to deserve such a letter as this. Your misdeeds and villainous vampings can be described in just two words: you exist. And believe me, there is no reason on earth why you should. How do you justify to yourself waking up each morning and ruining yet another day? If everything in this world has some purpose, some grand plan behind its existence, then yours surely is to show everything else, whether it be a slops bucket in a fried chicken stand, or the gunk behind the fridge, how fortunate it is not to be you. I have tried, but clearly, I have failed. I must stand firm to the realisation that mere words cannot express my utmost and profound contempt and loathing for your person, your being and your existence. You are a blight against nature.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6969166

[Anonymous Of Finlandia !uyiFWpHeEc No.]

Lets see

[Anonymous No.]

lets see what i get

[Anonymous No.]

Lets see how much I need to pasta spam this before rejects stop responding. Again.

“Shanghai, come help me clean up. Marisa is coming over soon!”

Master is very excited today. Her good friend Marisa-san is coming to visit today. They haven’t seen each other since Master got married.

“Shanghai, clean up those beer cans!” Master calls from the kitchen.

I obediently bag up the cans of Suweiser. Master’s husband is such a slob.

“Master, wouldn’t it be nice if Anonymous-san would clean up after himself every once in a while?”

“Shanghai, don’t talk about my husband like that. It’s a wife’s duty to keep a house clean, you know?” she says, while wiping the grime off the coffee table.

“Marisa said she has an important announcement to make. I wonder if she finally found a nice guy to marry, like me?” Master mused.

A knock on the door caught Master off-guard.

“Oh, she’s early! Shit, the cleaning isn’t finished!” Master says, while throwing some dirty socks behind the couch.

“Go answer it while I freshen up,” she says, running to the bathroom.

I knew that she was going to put on some makeup to hide her bruises. I flew over to the door and struggled just to turn the knob. Houses really aren’t made for dolls. When I finally pull it open, I see a sight for sore eyes. Marisa Kirisame-san, radiant in a summer dress, stood on the porch.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6969190
This ones for you, especially.

One day, Mokou was out shopping with the neet. They drank a lot of lemonade and had to piss, so they went to the bathroom together. While Mokou was doing her business, the neet stuck her head under the stall divider.

"So what do you think of that new dress? Shit is so cash, right?"

"Kaguya, you can't do that!" Mokou screamed. "Get out!"

Mokou started kicking the neet in the face, but the neet braved the pain and slithered under the divider and into the spacious stall. The neet carefully squirmed her arm under Mokou's leg and began to finger her. This caused Mokou's piss stream to intensify, a golden torrent rivaling a fire hydrant. The piss was powerful enough to knock down the stall door, sending it crashing into the far wall. Picking Mokou up by her underarms, the neet carried her around as a mobile piss cannon, blasting holes in walls and ripping apart innocent shoppers in a wall of hot urine. When Mokou was finally exhausted, the pair stood in the ruins of the mall, knee--deep in a golden lake. Piss mixed with shoppers' blood rained down from what was left of the ceiling. Too embarrassed to even move, she offered no resistance as the neet shoved her head underwater and drowned Mokou in her own piss. The neet whipped out her cell phone and called Cirno, informing the fairy of a whole new lake that just formed that she can play in.

And they named it FINLAND

[Anonymous No.]

>>6969200
“Hello, Shanghai. Can I come in?” she says with a beaming smile.

“Of course! Please, have a seat. Master will be out in a second.”

Marisa hangs her witch hat on the coat rack, and then sits with her hands in her lap as I begin to pour some tea. It’s really cheap tea, so I make sure to put out lots of honey and sugar. She deliberately leans forward, so she won’t get her hair dirty on the greasy back of the couch.

“Marisa! Long time no see!”

Master finally emerges from the bathroom in a clean dress. I didn’t think she even had any clean clothes anymore…
The two girls hug each other like sisters. Master does her best to hide a look of pain when Marisa squeezes her. I know she complained of a bruised rib the other day…

“So what’s your big announcement, Marisa? I’ve been waiting all day to hear it! Oh, but we’ll have to be quick. My husband will get upset if he comes home and sees your broomstick in the driveway again.”

Marisa-san said nothing, but simply raised her hand. On her finger was a modest, but beautiful ring.
“Oh my gosh, you really are getting married! I’m so happy for you? So, who’s the lucky guy?”

[Anonymous No.]

rollan

[Anonymous No.]

>>6969207
Master was speechless, her mouth agape.

“Sweetie, by now I thought you would’ve grown out of your girl-crushes,” she finally blurts out. Surprisingly, Marisa-san doesn’t look offended.

“But we love each other, Alice,” Marisa-san says with a warm smile.
“We’re going to live in the shrine together. We’ve already discussed adopting a child-“

“Oh? And how do you think you’ll pay for all the expenses? You’re a two-bit magician who plays kids shows and she’s a miko with no weekly paycheck. Do you think her donations will put your child through college? Sweetheart, let me find you a nice guy, like my husband.”

“Like that husband who beats you?” Marisa-san said, while wiping the makeup off Master’s face, revealing the bruises underneath. Master smacked Marisa-san’s hand away roughly.

“I told you, I tripped on my dress! And I’m pregnant now, so he wouldn’t hit me!” Master says, lifting her dress to show Marisa-san her stomach with its steadily growing bump.

“Honey, I had no idea… Well, if he ever hits you again, I want you to call me, OK?”

[Anonymous No.]

>>6969209
“Alice, I’m worried that one day he’ll be more than angry. I know what he did at the Scarlet Devil Mansion. He’s capable of killing, you know…”

“What the hell are you talking about? He promised me he’d never go back there after I caught him fooling around with the gate guard.”

“You know those books he got you as a wedding present? He stole them from Patch’s library, may she rest in peace. I was there when the mansion burned down. After Anon stole the books, he let Flandre out of her room. He pricked his finger and shoved it in her mouth and said his blood was delicious candy. Being a vampire, she wanted more and flew into a furor. He said that she can get more candy from Sakuya. Flandre found Sakuya and began ripping her to shreds. She barely had time to yell for help before Flandre decapitated her and began to drink her blood. Meiling heard Sakuya’s screams, but because of all the abuse she suffered at Sakuya’s hands, she took off into the woods instead of saving her boss. No one has heard from Meiling since. By the time Remilia was roused from her slumber, Flandre had already made it into the library and had impaled a straw into Patchouli’s half-dead body and was drinking her dry. Remilia confronted her sister, and after a fierce battle that wrecked the mansion and set it on fire, Flandre was finally killed. Remilia, vowing to never return to Gensokyo, gathered up Sakuya’s head and flew off into the night. I confronted Anonymous about why he set this chain of events into motion. He said, ‘I did it for the lulz’. Don’t you see, Alice? He’ll hurt you without even blinking!”

[Anonymous No.]

>>6969213
Master’s face was bright red at this point. She’d heard enough, even if it was all true.

“You’re lying! How would you know all this, anyway? There’s a restraining order against you from going near the mansion ever since you assaulted Patchouli when she didn’t have a book that you wanted to steal!”

“I… I snuck back in to steal some more books. I didn’t want to report Anonymous to the police, since I knew he would be unstable if he thought he would be caught, and I was worried about you. I thought you would come to your senses about him and leave him by now…”

A cracking sound split the tension in the room like a peal of thunder. Master’s anger had finally reached its boiling point, and she slapped her best friend. Marisa-san, stunned at this outburst, gingerly felt the large red mark on her cheek.

“How dare you come into my house and insult my husband like this? Get the fuck out, right now!”

“Alice, please! You’re a victim, we can get you help-“ Marisa-san tried to plead with Master. Her golden eyes were full of worry.

Master would have none of it. She yanked Marisa-san up by her arm and shoved her towards the door.

“Shanghai, get the door!” Master ordered curtly. Not wanted to disobey, I swung the door open. Master pushed Marisa-san out. She landed roughly on the porch. Master grabbed Marisa-san’s hat and threw it in her face.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6969216
“I… I’m better off without her, anyway. I’m fine as long as I have Anon…”

Master trailed off as she noticed the black and white doll on the shelf. It was a perfect likeness of Marisa-san, and making it was a real labor of love. I remember how proud Master was when she completed it. She planned to give it to Marisa-san as a wedding gift. Picking up the doll, Master began to sob.

“Oh god… What have I done…”

She fell to the floor as she clutched the doll to her chest. Master began weeping loudly, tears streaming down her cheeks. All I could so was stroke her hair until she cried herself to sleep. I snuggled up next to her neck and fell asleep, too.

The sound of the door slamming woke me up. Oh no, Anonymous-san was home from work, and Master hadn’t cooked dinner yet.

“Honey, I’m home,” he said with a belch. He must’ve stopped at the smoked eel stand for a few bottles of sake before he came home… again.

“Where the fuck is dinner? Bitch, what the fuck are you doing?” he said, noticing Master sprawled out on the floor. She was just beginning to wake up when Anonymous-san snatched the doll from her hands.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6969218
“You’re still playing with dolls? How pathetic,” he said, before throwing the black and white doll to the floor and grinding it to dust under his work boots.

“No! Why did you do that? That was my favorite doll!” Master protested. That was a bad idea.

“For the lulz. Now I’ll teach you what happens when you don’t make dinner on time!”

Anonymous-san delivered a fierce backhand to Master’s face. Her nose exploded in a cloud of blood. She was on her back now, whimpering. Anonymous-san began stomping down on Master’s stomach, hard. She screamed in pain, digging her nails into the carpet in agony. I was powerless to do anything. I knew that if I tried to attack Anonymous-san, he’ll just blame Alice and make her suffer even more. I covered my ears until the commotion died down. Anonymous-san retreated to his bedroom. I looked over towards Master, who was coughing up fierce amounts of blood. I was worried for her life, until she rolled over on her side and passed out. It was all I could do to wipe up the blood around her mouth. Her breathing was ragged and irregular. I resolved to stay up all night if I had to, to protect my Master.

Sunlight streaming in through the blinds woke me up. Oh no, I fell asleep! Is Master alright? I can’t see her anywhere.

“Oh, Shanghai, you’re awake. Anon felt so bad about what he did that he must’ve gotten a new doll for me! I don’t know why it was covered in blood, but that’s alright. It’s the perfect size, too. I’ll start knitting some clothes for it right away! I’m so excited!”

[Anonymous No.]

Once, not too long ago, in a sleepy, forgotten island in a distant sea, there was a village. This village worshipped strange idols, disembodied heads of non-eulcidian geometry from which one could sometimes hear fearful sounds, cries both human and not, of distress, agony and rapture, and from which a mysterous eldritch power could be felt. A wind constantly flew from these idols, as if the air itself feared their presence and tried futilely to escape, a wind of madness that carried with it the minds of all men and women foolish enough to live near them in an unending frenzy of terror and madness. All of them, that is, except for a single old man, who spent his life sitting at the base of the idols, and laughed. At others, he laughed, as if their very existance was nothing but a joke. At all things, he laughed, as if there was nothing in this world but a gigantic farce. At himself, he laughed, as if his own existance was the punchline. Certainly he himself was mad, a madness so deep it developped into a deranged sanity none could understand.

There one day came a young man, full of knowledge and confidence, who came across the madman, and the madman's laughter grew stronger than it ever had. Nettled, the young man spoke.

"And what, pray tell, amuses you so? What do you see that I do not, that I know not? What could someone like you have to teach me?"

The old man's cachinnation only grew stronger. As the young man was about to dismiss him as a madman, he finally spoke, calming his guffaws.

"What could an old man like me have to teach you, indeed? A man such as you could not possibly learn anything from me, yet I will and I must try, for you will not understand."

"Then speak, elder, and I will keep an open mind."

And the old man laughed.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6969224
"Then listen, young ignorant, and know the truth of the universe, and of the infinite power of the Head Gods. At the top of the world stands the 9, the idiot savant who guides all things. None but the mad and the unthinking can understand this being, for its mind is unfathomable and inhuman. It, perhaps, does not even register than anything exists beyond its simple world. Acting as its messenger is the angel with a thousand eyes, who shifts all things on her wings of obsidian and leads all to death and insanity for her own amusement, and overlooking everything is the Devil of the infinite void, who does all and cares for none, for none of this world belongs to her."

The young man scoffed, dismissing all this as the insane ramblings of a madman. Yet the old man continued, never stopping, and the young man could not bring himself not to hear it, finding, to his horror, that the frail mocking voice of the old man was searing itself into his brain.

"Then who does this world belong to?" He found himself asking. Yet he had never as much as considered the thought. The old man laughed, and the young man saw in his eye a glint of desperate dementia, of something both human and beast, and something else.

"It belongs to The Thief, who holds the universe she stole away in her infinite, destructive love. And holding The Thief, supporting the mass of the universe on herself, is The Reimu, mistress of all and posessor of none. All respect her, and all love her, and all answer to her, and all fear her, for, you see, she holds the world on her head, over the infinite void."

"But then," the young man's voice asked, independantly of his trapped, terrified and dying soul, "what holds The Reimu?"

[Anonymous No.]

>>6969246
And the old man laughed.

"Oh, no... It's Reimus all the way!!"

And the wind blew. And the young man laughed. And the old man laughed.

And in the village, a young boy tore away at his laughing mother's womb with his bare hands, all the while chanting in a demented scream:
"'ri! 'ri! Yu'kuri shee'teh y't'enneh!"