Oh, knock it off. I’m not buying it. Cecil has been having fun with my German scrabble board – he just spelled Gesäß on a dreifaches wort der Gäste intersecting erbrechen. You clearly haven’t got a drop of Teutonic blood in you. I mean, that’s a commie pinko Russian name.
I do so enjoy spreading the misery. Count yourself fortunate that I didn’t mention the picture of Lou Dobbs in that very same pose. Same rug, too, now that I think of it. Isn’t that peculiar?
Wouldn’t they be, you know … kind of … mushy? Or is that part of the point. I mean, far be it from me to denigrate someone’s sexual proclivities, but … no, actually, it’s not far at all, is it? You are a twisted and devious pervert. Why can’t you fantasize about being her neti pot like normal people?
Granted. Said power has been added to your repertoire. In accordance with standards a passcode must be uttered to unlock the power; however, the passcode will only be provided upon proof of Cecil’s well-being. Given the positive impact the diminishing ignorance of the teeming millions has on the economy and national will, the one-time financial outlay to provide said power was unanimously approved by the committee.
Oh I like that. You, who kidnapped Cecil and are forcing him to tongue-Scrabble in German, calling me twisted and devious just 'cause I want Fruit Roll-Ups that smell like Mariska Hargitay’s feet?
The nerve of some people. The noive!
I don’t object to your calling me a pervert, which I clearly am. But twisted? Devious? Harrumph!
Personally, I’d be more impressed if you had MENSA stationary. *Anybody *can have a piece of paper; it’s much harder to keep smart people from moving around.
Kinda reminds me of WorldCon (ConStellation, in Baltimore) in 1984. The con paper printed a notice that Jerry Pournelle had been kidnapped-- and unless the ransom demand was met, he’d be returned.
Well no wonder you were having trouble, who can understand you with that pronounced lisp? I mean, sheesh.
Excellent. So now we have agreed to the Klondike Bar and the innate ability which I shall now call trouserkinesis. See, folks? Once you get started it’s not that difficult at all. Only eight more to go and Cecil shall once again be free to frolic merrily in the heather.
Look, the scrabble board wasn’t my idea. Cecil asked, I provided with the caveat that it was in fact a German board. And really, he seemed to have a grand old time with it. Oddly I can’t seem to find the board or most of the tiles anymore, but I’ve given him a vintage EZ Bake Oven set to play with. He appears to be trying to make cupcakes.
I shall refrain from referring to you a devious, however, until I learn of the manner in which you planned to get Fruit Roll-Ups into Mariska’s shoes and, more importantly, how you planned to get them back afterward. You’re still twisted, however.
Pish tosh, getting that lot to settle down is simple. I cover the floor outside the building with superglue and then go in and tell them Stephen Hawking is outside giving a press release about his new book that reveals shocking new insights about black holes being portals to a chain of interstellar delis that make the universe’s most exquisite schnitzel.
I did that already in this thread, and he was right about the DVDs – although I hadn’t considered them as a form of torture until he mentioned it.
If you are willing to drop one of your other demands, I can throw in pelikenesis (the abilitity to move marine birds with your mind. It’s all I can do on short notice.
Just marine birds? I suppose it would be fun to chuck a few storks or swans around, but sometimes you just want to bother a few sparrows or finches. Or crows, especially crows. Have you ever thrown a live crow at someone? The look on their faces is worth a thousand swans.
If you could arrange to upgrade it to any old birds then I’ll trade you for the Elephant Man thing. I’ve decided I am not interested in humanitarian efforts any longer.
Yes, we’ve noticed right off the hop from your OP that you’re not interested in humanitarian eff -
… what was that blood curdling scream coming from your secret lair?
You didn’t break out the Shatner recordings alredy, did you?
For the love of Og, don’t tell me you unleashed the Shatner recordings already!
Please, have mercy! I’m only one man, I got your thread on the main straightdope.com page in hopes of recruiting others to end Cecil’s nightmare quickly! What more do you want? I’m begging you, what more do you want???
We need to wrap this thing up. I’m down to two Klondike bars in my freezer. I like Cecil and all, but Klondike bars are GOOD. I can’t guarantee I’ll still have one available much longer…
Oh, heavens no. Even I can’t stomach Shatner’s singing. Just thinking about his expository Acid-fueled ramblings in Lucy in the Sky makes my skin crawl. A man’s got to have his limits. Though I will admit I had briefly considered the slightly less curdling tones of Leonard Nimoy, I realized it wasn’t really so much that he was a skullfuckingly a bad singer as he was just really, dreadfully, paint-peelingly dull. He’s the musical equivalent of listening to Ben Stein read one of his own books.
So I just put on some Tiny Tim.
Fine, fine. Eat your damn Klondike. I’ve changed my mind anyway. Now I want a Nanaimo bar.
