::sprinkles coochie dust all around::
:: In a state of rapturous grace as cootchie duct imbues me with the divine essence that is ouor Goddess::
I am willing, O Glorious One, should you will it, to take on the task of bringing to some resolution the poor story we have eked out of our humble brains for your pleasure. Say so, and it will be done.
::Bangs head on floor repeatedly::
Further, O Stern and Lovely Force of Nature, simply whisper and screaming hordes of demons will rise up at your command and devour those who do not remain loyal to the drafting of stories.
Well, maybe they will. I don’t know. It sounds cool, though.
I see your point, Yondan, and I share your frustration, but it seems that this entire thing has stagnated since the old board fell down went boom. 
Should we start e-mailing people again?
Hallooooooooooo…
‘allooooo’
‘loooo’
‘oooo’
The sounds echoed off the insides of his skull like bats, trying to find their way home. It had gotten really dull in this town, maybe it was time to move on. He didn’t know for sure. It was too bad really. There was quite a boom goin here at one time. This must be a bit what it felt like in Harlem when all the arts just kinda died away, or when those teeny towns out west just stopped breathing when the gold or the oil or the grass got all dug up, sucked out, or eaten.
Kinda makes me think of that movie The Commitments, about that group of kids in Ireland who discover their souls in song, but then crash and burn before they can become famous, and that horn player tells the band’s leader, “It’s better this way. Sure we could have gone on and hit the big time, but this way, it’s poetry.”
Time to turn the page, maybe. Start a new book, a new story.
::The Big Y shrugs, picks up his shotglass and eyes it against the stray beam of sunset coming in through the cracked window of the bar. Then he turns the glass over and sets it on the bar, uspide down, pulls the lapels of his trenchcoat tight, and walks out into the street.::
::Grabs the Big Y and hauls him back into the bar::
Hang on just a moment there. We are one lousy segment away from finishing our story, and I want to know how it turns out.
I’m gonna email Tretiak and give him a gentle prod about finishing the yarn. If he doesn’t respond, or can’t do it, then either Yondan, Jane D’oh or I will put up the final chapter. We can arm-wrestle or something for the privilege.
'Kay?
My group’s waiting on bobkitty still it seems.
Hey, bobkitty - don’t make me come over there!
Does anyone know where bobkitty is? Should I page her or email her? Because our story might just be starting, but it still needs finished, darn it. I’m hooked on creepy Gavin, I tell ya.
Darn you, Crunchy Frog and your nifty simulposts, too.
By the way, when I said that I was expecting these kinds of posts from you after reading the “Welcome Wagon”, that was a good thing. Just the sort of twisted sense of humor I was hoping to be joined with in this story-writing endeavor. Sorry the reply to that comment is so late.
Hey, and bobkitty, if you post to the story again, I can give up Final Fantasy III for awhile. Think of the hours of 16-bit opera agony you’ll be saving me!
::listens to Baby Jesus bawl::
::spreads coochie dust::
::looks sad:: 
I’d like us to have at least one story finished for submission to the next Teeming Millions newsletter. Has everyone who was at first involved checked back in since the board came back up?
I’ve been keeping an eye on this. Last time I checked, there’s been no new posting for Group C.
Oreo hasn’t checked back in here, and I don’t recall seeing her anywhere else on the board either. Does anyone know if Oreo’s made it back?
And I just want to say, I love the thought of RaCha’ar sharing her coochie with us. 
I just did a little search for y’all. Oreo has posted a few times in the last 2 weeks, including once yesterday. Want me to e-mail her(?)?
And, belladonna, I know you’re out there somewhere. How’s every little thing?
If you could, Ferrous, I’d love you forever. Extra coochie for you. And you, too, Your Frogliness, since you seem to like it so much. ;D
Okay, e-mail reminder has been sent.
Incidentally, I really want to kick my own ass for my preceding post. I said to bella, “I know you’re out there somewhere”, and now I’ve got that god-awful Moody Blues song stuck in my head!:mad:
I’m here! I’m here!
Good lord…how did I miss this thread?
When we went through the Great Depressing Loss of the Board, I forgot all about this. I actually have my segment stored away somewhere, though, so it’s just a matter of finding it and posting it. Hopefully tonight! (It’s at home, and I’m at work right now…sooo…)
My deepest, most sincere apologies to all, especially RaCha’ar.
(Thanks for the email, Ferrous!)
Aww, it’s okay Oreo! :
: we’re just glad to see you back!
::The Big Y blinks, looks up and see the bar’s ceiling from an angle he had not previously contemplated, and wonders how he arrived in this undignified posture. The last thing he recalls was a sharp tug on the collar of his trenchcoat…
Dusting himself off, he hears that Aussie Tavalla dame issue some kind of challenge… some kind of wrestling, is all he can make out through the ringing in his ears. Mmm…this could be interesting. Jello? Mud? Chocolate pudding? Whatever kind of wrestling she wants, she’ll get it, the Big Y thinks to himself, recalling fondly the long, slow looks he’d invested surreptiously over the months, catching glimpses of a shapely thigh through a slit charcoal-grey skirt across the hazy, half-lit room, the top of a stocking just visible at the apex. He was sure she had a snub-nosed .38 tucked in there, too. Now that was a woman to know better.
Us Aussie girls know how to make an impact
I haven’t heard a peep out of Tretiak since I sent that email in, so here’s an idea for Group A. Three alternate endings - we’ll each put one up, just for something different. That is, if Yondan and Jane D’oh are agreeable.
[sub]For the record, Jello wrestling. With plenty of whipped cream.[/sub]