The 4000th thread!

[Sansa]

There, this is it. What a let down, huh. ;)

[Rod Stafford]

You suck! Boooo!! :thumbdown:mad

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Where are the flashing lights!?

Where are the streamers and balloons?!

WHERE IS MY CONFETTI DAMMIT!? :mad

[Liam Jinn]

I win the contest! wooohooo!

*dances*

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Your signed picture of Dasquian is coming in the mail. ;)

[Liam Jinn]

I feel like the luckiest man on the face of the earth. :D

[Jaime Tomahawk]

There, this is it. What a let down, huh. ;)

Ooooh, I dont know. We could always make it something to remember, right?

NOt too hard really because.....

* From the depths of hell a sound begins. A sound that starts as a thin whistle, a noise that gathers volume, gathers power, gathers penetration and reverb. An echo... a wave of noise bouncing back and forth as it gains strength until the power is too much and the noise explodes all around, the noise of damnation, the noise of a soul being torn asunder in the Dimension of Pain, the noise that brings fear to the strong and loosens the bowels of the wek, a sound to strike terror, a sound that breaks the eardrums, a sound that sounds like....


"WWWWEEEEEEEEEEEEEDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDGGGGGGGGGGGGGYYYYY YYYYYYYY!!!!"

FORCE WEDGY!

HOIK!

(Hoik? I never coud work out these dumb sound effects and after souch a superb buildup too)

With an enormous heave, the apty named Poor Sansa find her undies reefed up violently, the elastic tied around her ears then she is picked and in a truly illogical leap of logic, hooked onto a ceiling fan. The fan in another illogical lep, powered by a jet turbine, accelerates until the blades snap, throwing the still aptly named Poor Sansa into a bowl of acid Jello.

In which Acid Sharks are swimming.

And you can imagine the rest.

Here lies Poor Sansa, Wedgyed before her time. May she rest in .... well, I suppose rest isnt the word here, she's now a delightful soup. May be DINNER TIME! COMEON EVERYONE, SOUP FOR YOU!

[Dasquian Belargic]

You tart :mad

[Gabriel Rodermark]

Here lies Poor Sansa, Wedgyed before her time. May she rest in .... well, I suppose rest isnt the word here, she's now a delightful soup. May be DINNER TIME! COMEON EVERYONE, SOUP FOR YOU!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO :cry

[Nathanial K'cansce]

You tart :mad



Mmm, tarts.

*insert drool here*

[Kelly Perris]

Mmm, tarts.

*insert drool here*


I echo that sentiment.

[Miranda Tarkin]

pop tarts? :D

[Jaime Tomahawk]

pop tarts? :D

Well, with the other thread about males cooking, I say I find someone and turn em into a tasty Stih Pop Tart. Any Sith want to lend their guts for said tarts? Comeon, it's for a worthy cause!