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Petrified-OMO
Taxing Patience
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Posted - May 12 2003 : 12:30:15
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"Pet," Arcane's voice came over the comm, "Get the money over here. There is a slight change of plans."
"When I land" Petrified was aching to stretch his legs and feel solid rock under his boots.
"No, now, and don't bother landing" Arcane was serious, but the gleam in his eye gave much away. "Redirect the money to here, we need some more equipment for... a little 'roach vengence'."
"So, what did Aged do now?" Petrified always knew Aged secretly loved the little mechs and his stint of running them after the racing leagues only proved it in Pet's mind.
"Actually, Aged is innocent in this one” Arcane’s grin gave it away
“Festus...”
“Yes. We want to show up a few egos what it really means to run a mech. In fact, if you hurry up, you can get in on some of this action before we are done ‘cleaning’.”
So, Festus ticked someone off again... figures. “Is he still pulling teeth?” Petrifed re-directed his ship to the backwater world.
“We are all pulling teeth son.”
“Say, does Aged know what you did to his account yet?”
Arcane’s face suddenlly grew pale: “Pet, Aged is right here...” Quickly Arcane’s voice trails off as Aged grabs the comm mic. “WHAT!?!”
“Ah, hmm. Hey Aged, glad...”
“What do you mean ‘did to his account’?” Aged might have been having a little too much Caramel Macchiato - his adrenalin was never like this unless his Mech was CT red or he had too much sugar. Then again, he never did like losing money either... “What do you know about my account.”
“ahh, Aged... Hey wait you’ll damage the controls!” Aged droped the comm mic but the image convienently showed him ripping the control stick off a parlor game in the bar and advancing on Arcane. “AGED!!! That is not what those are used fo... oh my...”
*click*
Petrified looked at his watch, he could easily be there before the next drop and after seeing Pace and Deranged trying to wrestle Aged to the ground and a near-violated Arcane recovering his composure at the bar next to Confused Petrified knew immediately what he would do. Pulling up the comm link he began searching for Festus’ bank accounts. ahh, there we are He knew Festus didn’t have much, but once he was done transfering money to the OMO general account, he would set Festus up for a little, ‘near-violation’.
Let’s see, Arcane has about 100,000,000 c-bills slated for the Flea fest, that leaves all of Aged’s money to go into Festus’ currently empty savings account. Petrified looked at the balances again and skimmed some back into the OMO pool, just to make it look less suspicious. Now, to change Festus’ account pass word, just to make sure he won’t go spending this small fortune...yes, “B3ar_L0ver” would make an appropriate new pass word.
Petrified set the controls and decided to take a small nap on the way, knowing the trouble that would ensue would more than bring him back to Arcane’s good graces after the slip-up.
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Signatures?! We don't need no stinking signatures! |
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Aged
That's MISTER Lag Monkey to you.
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 Posted - May 12 2003 : 12:38:17
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... but Arcane is the Carmel Masochism drinker (actually I mostly drink milk these days ... way more than beer even)
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Arcane
Administrator
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Posted - May 12 2003 : 12:42:11
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Petri, that is damn funny!!! (Now come here so I can KICK YOUR < expletives deleted due to member sensitivities >
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Novus Ordo Seclorum
Knowledge is power... has been since time eternal. Arcane knowledge is thereby ultimate power and can
therefore lead to ultimate corruption. Wisdom (and the experience that comes with age) is a serum for corruption.
Perhaps that is why there are so many Old Men with Arcane knowledge and so few young ones...
Arcane OMO - Circa 2001
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Petrified-OMO
Taxing Patience
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Posted - May 12 2003 : 13:45:46
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Of course, the one thing few were aware of was that Aged was lactose Intolerant. As such, since he missed the most opportune time to give Arcane's 'exhaust' a tune up with the Video Game control stick from the bar, he made sure to drink plenty of milk and sit awhile in Arcane's mech...
The stench was... significant. However, while Arcane missed the next drop to cause havoc for the WS, it did offer him the opportunity to prepare a fitting punishment for etrified; let alone register his 'former' mech in Pet's name.
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Aged
That's MISTER Lag Monkey to you.
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Posted - May 12 2003 : 13:58:07
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Uhh. ok ... nevermind
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Petrified-OMO
Taxing Patience
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Posted - May 12 2003 : 14:37:05
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What?! You didn't think that was funny?
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Aged
That's MISTER Lag Monkey to you.
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Posted - May 12 2003 : 14:57:32
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Ok, let's see: drinking Carmen Miranda's until I'm hyper or farting in Arcane's mech from drinking too much milk.
Choices, choices ...  They're both so tempting.
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Petrified-OMO
Taxing Patience
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Posted - May 12 2003 : 15:02:08
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hmmm, I see the point of confusion here. Some people, who are lactose intolerant, will have gas or even diahrea. It is that combination I was thinking of.
Of course, if you like Carmen Miranda, please, drink yourself into a tizzy. 
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Arcane
Administrator
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Posted - May 12 2003 : 15:24:30
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That is purely a Festus trick... Aged wouldn't stoop that low (probably couldn't even if he wanted to)
Here lets fix this... 
It wasn't well known in the club but Petri was clinically blind (which explained quite a lot actually). Take for example the fact that Petri was always buying Aged a Carmel Macchiato and calling him Arcane. Aged, a not so reformed beer drinker, mostly drank milk and ate cookies these days. He would just sigh, shake his head in dismissal, realizing the futility of trying to tell Petri he WASN'T ARCANE and he DIDN'T LOOK LIKE FESTUS, and would sip on the mostly warm milk drink until Petri would leave.
"How can Arcane drink this crap", he muttered to himself repeatedly the whole time, "I knew he had masochistic tendencies but, really, this is ridiculous"
Petri was starting to get on Aged's nerves, though. The rumor he had started about Aged being lactose intolerant was just about the last straw. That and the fact that Petri was also spreading rumors that Aged was pulling ol' Festus tricks in cockpits.
He knew that Arcane would never believe him capable of such a display but the rumor did hit close to home. He wondered if Arcane would figure out that he had enlisted Festus' skills to do the job proper.
"Well, it serves him right", Aged muttered to himself as he left the command center. "He should know better than to screw with my personal account. I guess it's time to 'fix' Arcane's personal hologram."
Whistling "The Bitch is Back (an old Elton John song)", Aged stepped up his pace. He was anxious to get to work. "Won't Arcane be surprised", he chuckled.
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Novus Ordo Seclorum
Knowledge is power... has been since time eternal. Arcane knowledge is thereby ultimate power and can
therefore lead to ultimate corruption. Wisdom (and the experience that comes with age) is a serum for corruption.
Perhaps that is why there are so many Old Men with Arcane knowledge and so few young ones...
Arcane OMO - Circa 2001
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Aged
That's MISTER Lag Monkey to you.
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Posted - May 12 2003 : 15:43:06
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Aged recalled the events in the bar from a few nights ago...
It all started when Confused sat down next to him and started talking about jay-walking or something. Then things got really weird. Petrified was buying him those sissified coffees that Arcane so adored. Festus had taken a dump in Arcane's mech and somehow, Aged had been blamed for it. After all was said and done, all Aged knew was he was broke and that somebody needed to pay... (Oh, and he had a pretty good idea that DLT didn't like poptarts.)
Maybe a beer sounded pretty good after all. ... as long as it wasn't goat piss.
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Petrified-OMO
Taxing Patience
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Posted - May 12 2003 : 16:39:18
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Back at the bar...
Spiff, the bar tender, knew his patrons would be ticked when they discovered he was out of beer. The Mech-heads, as he called them, were avid beer drinkers and would often trash bars when the tap flowed dry.
"Hey Jake, tell me that truck arrived." Spiff anxiously called into his comm mic.
"Man, let me tell you, those Wolverine creeps hijacked it again."
"(#*&$%^!!" Spiff hated them, they were ruder than a Canadian Dentist being fondled by bears, and tended to take things they had no right to. "Don't tell me that."
"Man, you gotta call Joe." Jake was serious. He knew Spiff was a good hand as a Bar keep and could handle many a fight, but beer dry Mechers were more than enough to burn the joint down. "Call Joe, they'll never know the difference anyways."
Jake was right there. Many Mechers lost their sense of taste and smell sitting in those over heated metal scraps. Spiff knew Joe was good about making the best mock beer around and often the most snoobish of Mech-heads couldn't tell the difference.
"Ok, I'll call Joe." Redialing Joe answered quicker than usual - the 20th ring now, "Joe, I need you to run me your best."
"Hey, I just sold a fresh lot to Antony's down the way, but I think I can get some older stuff from the basement I keep on hand... you know those mosquitoes hate the stuff." In the background the pastoral sounds of goats could clearly be heard.
- - -
Aged decided to take Petrified up on his offer for a beer. At least the old fool won't shove a Carmen Machia.. whatever, in front of me Aged thought.
"Man Arcane," Pet said "that was sure one helluva drop. Let me get the first round - only fair you know since poor old Confused sucked up most of the larger last night"
"Yeah, sure was, Still can't figure out how you know where to drop those Long Toms though."
"It's all in the smell Arcane." Petrified raised his mug to Aged and both men were satisfied with the healthy clank from their mugs colliding. "Bottoms up!"
Spiff turned from the two, trying to stiffle a snicker...
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Aged
That's MISTER Lag Monkey to you.
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Posted - May 12 2003 : 16:51:13
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Arcane
Administrator
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Posted - May 12 2003 : 16:54:51
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LMAO
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Novus Ordo Seclorum
Knowledge is power... has been since time eternal. Arcane knowledge is thereby ultimate power and can
therefore lead to ultimate corruption. Wisdom (and the experience that comes with age) is a serum for corruption.
Perhaps that is why there are so many Old Men with Arcane knowledge and so few young ones...
Arcane OMO - Circa 2001
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Retread_OMO
Got Video?
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Posted - May 12 2003 : 22:18:51
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And as I was released from my straight jacket for the forth time, I was still wandering how I came to be in the OMO mental asylumn.
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I SHOOT DEAD PEOPLE
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Eccentric-OMO
frequent visitor
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Posted - May 18 2003 : 12:18:40
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"Geez - did you put turbochargers on that Fafnir or something," crackled over the comm channel.
Deranged sat back and chuckled, replacing the beer bottle back in the cupholder of his slightly modified Faffie. Having unlimited access to the nearly forgotten simulator pod in the back of the old training center had it's advantages - not only did he have plenty of time to toy with loadouts and modifications, but he could also work on his special cockpit "comfort" ideas as well...
"...I've never seen one move that fast," the comm channel squaked again.
Time to get back to work. man, these guys were making it tough for him. Night time, heavy fog....and no radar. Not to mention the couple of fast little buggers that kept sneaking up behind him and flaming him to shutdown.
A moving light in the distance, and the reticle turns red. Tracers from the quad RACs reached out and sent a little leaded love to one of his tormentors.
"Ow, crap - that hurt" said the comm channel. Deranged chuckled. Satisfied, he saw yet another explosion light up the darkened factory floor. Not him this time. The buzzer sounds, and in the simulator pods, the final tallies flashed up - well, all things considered, he didn't think his 12 kills were all that bad. of course, there were the 24 deaths...
The cockpit of the simulator slams open and rough hands grab him, dragging him out and tossing him into a chair. One set of hands held his arms behind the chair, while another pulled back his head. The foul-smelling liquid poured into his mouth, and down his throat, as he heard the guys discussing "so what should we name him?"
Man, this stuff was horrid. Not that he minded a beer or something stronger every now and then - but he could swear that this stuff had been fermented in the stomach of some dead and decomposing beast, then strained through someone's old dirty socks. Well, at least it did make his belly feel warm, and was making his head a little light...
After numerous suggestions were made (accompanied sometimes by laughter, other times by "what the...?") finally they seemed to come to an agreement...
"Welcome, Eccentric-OMO! Cheers and OWO!"
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"Well - we're out-numbered, out-tonned, out-gunned, and they are camping in our spawn. Finally, we have them right where we want them!!"
DARE TO BE STUPID! |
Edited by - Eccentric-OMO on May 18 2003 12:22:58 |
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Festus-OMO
spoon
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Posted - May 18 2003 : 13:02:24
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Festus sat back and smouldered as he Watched Their newest memeber sitting, hogtied to a chair as Petrified pulled his head back and Smellyfart poured some of Fes's precious "Private Stock" down down his gullet.
How in the heck Aged had found it he had no idea, but it was obviosuly time to find a new hidey hole. Actually Festus didn't mind them drinking it, but it really got on his nerves when they used it to remove grease, unplug pipes, and etch metal surfaces.
The cheers of "Welcome!" and "OWO" rang throughout the sim chamber as the newest OMO, Eccentric was initiated into the ranks.
Eccentric, formerly known as DerangedLunaTec, had shown alot of patience as the group put him thru various trials. First was the, "WHO THE HECK IS POSTING ON OUR BOARDS" test.
Then the "IGNORE HIM, HE WILL GO AWAY TEST". Followed by the,usually very effective, "LET HIM PLAY AND TALK TO HIPSTER TEST".
He had stuck it out. He had put up with everything.
Fes was especially glad to have this new recruit. It was the first time in a long time that a new fella came along AND brought with him a reason to tear a strip offa someone too. The Whole Wolverine Solutions busness had ended well, and it looked like that Company had suffered a rather "drastic 3rd Quarter loss", due to the disappearance of 6 battle mechs from their training facility.
All 6 were now sitting in the hangers of the Geriatrix, having real weapons mounted on them instead of simulators. Sure, it was a bit underhanded, some might even suggest criminal, but nobody pushes OMO around.
Fes reached into the cooler full of ice, grabbed on of his homebrews (funny, there were still alot of them in here. Oh well, more for him), and twisted the cap off. Poor Eccentric, if he thought the multiple Artillery Beacon explosions in the simulator made his head hurt, wait until he woke up in the morning after a few of Festus' stolen brewskis.
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Work like you don't need the money. Love like you've never been hurt. Dance like nobody's watching.
-- Satchel Paige
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Confused-OMO
regular visitor
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Posted - May 19 2003 : 16:56:07
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As the telly shut down for the night confused again shut his eyes and saw the dim glow of the bar looking around to his surprise there were many old men about luckly for confused the pixies had gone but with the small mech rubbing up against his leg he felt comfort.
Reaching for drink the last orders bell rang out across the bar. It cant be a dream it must be real there are no last orders in dream time goodness me. the drink took effect the small mech stopped rubbing against Confused leg and became enraged with passion and mounted the Stool, the Stool had recently been passed by an elderly gentleman who wished his identity to be kept quiet. The heat from the stool and the attention paid by the small mech soon attracted a crowd of flies who gathered well..... like flies on sh.t.
Back to your mech back to your mech the cry came from all gathered in the bar, but by that time it was closing time and all the mechs were taken there was only a rather scruffy Sunder in the corner.
When Confused boarded the Sunder the young Pixie that normally sits in confused armpit suddenly woke up and pointed out that the Sunder was only a Ford Escort and it was time for work.
When will confused get back into a mech when will those horrible but lovely fairie folk go back to their own bar and get out of Confused arm pit hair Who knows not me.
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Petrified-OMO
Taxing Patience
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Posted - May 19 2003 : 19:37:12
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Spiff was glad the crowd was leaving, man, was he ever glad to see the lot go. He heard rumors about them before and knew they had a knack for "getting back".
- - - - -
Confused was the last to follow his fellows out the door. He didn't really notice that Spiff barred the door to Jake's Place after he left. All he saw was the whole group staring, gaping, at a truck. A couple, such as Aged and Titanum, grew green and puked before turning towards Petrified with loud and ruccous cursing. 
Confused, still wondering about the little mech walked past it all, and called back to the group over his shoulder: "Hey, I'm heading to 'Antony's Dive'!" With that, Aged ceased trying to make Petrified into a war trophy and perked up: "Ahh, yes... now for some REAL beer."
With that the OMO left down the road for Antony's Dive, leaving behind Jake's Place and the truck from which an unpleasant smell wafted with the simple words: "Joe's Goat Farm"
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Signatures?! We don't need no stinking signatures! |
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Country: USA
| Posts: 7782 |
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Aged
That's MISTER Lag Monkey to you.
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Posted - May 21 2003 : 16:23:04
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There it was again! That snarling sound. Aged's eyes darted around the room. "Am I asleep?", he thought to himself. "Can't be, this is too real."
Aged scanned the room for a light switch and found one a few feet away. Sliding with his back to the wall, he quietly made his way to the switch. His hand slid up the wall and turned on the lights.
Suddenly a grotesque creature resembling a cross between a baboon and a whale of some sort jumped at Aged. Recoiling in shock, he slipped on the floor and began frantically back peddling on his butt like a terrfied crab.
"Whoa there big fella!"
"Huh?", thought Aged. "What the heck is going on?"
It was Retread. Aged had heard about him. Long ago he had been a professor of genetics and zoology at a university. Rumor had it that he'd begun experimenting with gene splicing in some very unusual ways. His ways had been unusual to the point of being declared unethical by the university's board of regents and his research was halted. All remaining grant money had been impounded for other "more appropriate" research projects.
The story went that afterward Retread went a little off, vowing to continue his research and taking some of his colleague with him. Together they sold items on the black market and opened up a zoological park. Eventually rumors surfaced that they'd actually made a sucessful full scale gene splicing - some sort of scorpion/coyote mix.
Most people tended to avoid them as being too far off in left field, but one day Retread showed up on Solaris wanting to try his hand at driving a mech. Arcane was in town and suggested he try an old Owens that nobody every wanted to drive. The thought was that the experience would be so bad that Retread would give up in frustration and go back to his little "zoo".
Ah, but what Arcane didn't consider was that he was already dealing with a truly twisted mind. Retread actually liked the Owens! In fact, he could even kill things with it. Repeated attempts to get him in a more worthy chassis failed - he was rooted in that Owens and nothing, no scorpyote or babale would get him out of it. And now, there were suggestions that some of his colleagues were interested in trying their hands at mech driving.
"Hey Aged", said Retread, "don't worry about barney here, I've got him."
"Man, that thing scared the crap out of me."
"Hey, do you know where I might find a mech or two for a test drive?"
"Uh ... You know, I might know where I could lay my hands on a Chimera..."
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Aged
That's MISTER Lag Monkey to you.
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Posted - May 28 2003 : 16:56:10
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As the milky whiteness of unconscientiousness began to give way, the burly figure of Festus in a white lab coat began to appear before Aged's eyes. Instinctively Aged's arms moved wildly about between himself and Festus. "No way am I going to let the spoon cut me!", he thought. Aged began lining up all of the profanity he was going to use just as soon as he regained enough control to speak. "^%$#, *#^%@, *$%@#%!!!! ...", the queue was growing each second.
"Just relax", said Festus. "You've just gone through a nasty ejection. ... Haven't you ever driven an Owens before?"
"Huh?", speech was finally making its way back for Aged.
"Don't you know you have to arm the ejection seat before ejecting? Otherwise it just blasts you right through the canopy. That could bash whatever brains you still have straight down your backbone and out your..."
"What the &%*^ are you talking about?", Aged interupted. "I would never drive one of those swivel-hipped target drones!"
"Uhh, well that's what you were just driving and you were pretty enthusiastic about it too."
"Where's Medi? I don't trust you in that lab coat. And, get the &%^$ off my arms so I can shoot you!!!"
"Yeah right! Like I'm going to let you up.", said Festus. "Oh and Medi's on leave. You're stuck with me since I'm the only one left with any sort of medical training. Deal with it. Just relax and enjoy my gentle bedside manner." A twinkle entered Festus' eye - it always happened whenever he knew he had the upper hand.
"Spoon! Lemme go!!!"
"Retread, come 'ere and grab Aged's sidearm."
"Dude! How'd you like that Owens ride. We made quite a team out there, huh? Wasn't that a blast!!", chuckled Retread.
"You bastard!!! You tricked me. You drugged me or something!!! Or did you just inject me with some of that twisted DNA you've been messing with?"
"I didn't do anything at all. You were drunk. You kept muttering something about how 3 beers gave you just the right edge. ... Next thing, I knew you were yelling at everybody to jump into those Owenses in the spare parts mech bay and go kill some stuff. I told you to wear pants, but you wouldn't hear of it."
Aged lifted the blanket on his stretcher ... "Oh ...", Aged began to wince and shake his head.
"Yeah, next you and me were chasing after an Atlas. Man, you were hootin' and hollarin' like crazy - talking about how great that Owens handled.", explained Retread.
Aged began rubbing his temples. "Would you guys mind leaving the room and turning out the lights? I need to hide for a while."
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Geriatrica II
