# Predict the Death of the Previous Poster **URL:** \ **Category:** Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share\ **Created:** [November 10, 2003, 9:51pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/predict-the-death-of-the-previous-poster/212480 "2003-11-10T21:51:33Z")\ **Posts on this page:** 20\ **Page:** 10
**Author:** ![SanguineSpider](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/s/e9a140/32.png) [@SanguineSpider](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/SanguineSpider)\ **Post date:** [November 17, 2003, 8:19pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/predict-the-death-of-the-previous-poster/212480/181 "2003-11-17T20:19:00Z")
I think maybe but I’m not a big fan of how slow this board can be so I don’t want to go and backtrack to look. Me=lazy. We’ve got some great deaths here, BTW!! ---
**Author:** ![EddyTeddyFreddy](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/eddyteddyfreddy/32/18796_2.png) [@EddyTeddyFreddy](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/EddyTeddyFreddy)\ **Post date:** [November 17, 2003, 9:06pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/predict-the-death-of-the-previous-poster/212480/182 "2003-11-17T21:06:22Z")
**BellaD’Italia** Sat down on a sofa Eating her curds and whey Then came **SanguineSpider** And sat down beside her But **Bella['s** not frightened away! The two of them wrangled; Proboscis, limbs tangled 'Mid shrieks, snarls and howls of dismay. Until the combatants Lay shredded to remnants Which **ETF** tidied away. ---
**Author:** ![AncientHumanoid](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/ancienthumanoid/32/278_2.png) [@AncientHumanoid](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/AncientHumanoid)\ **Post date:** [November 17, 2003, 10:31pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/predict-the-death-of-the-previous-poster/212480/183 "2003-11-17T22:31:33Z")
[heavy downbeat music] Steve walks warily down the street, his brim pulled way down low. The only sound is the sound of his feet, machine gun ready to go. **Eddy Teddy**! I’m ready for you. I’m crouching on the balls of my feet. Out of the doorway the bullets RIP! repeating to the sound of the beat! Another thread bites the dust Another thread bites the dust Hey hey! Another thread bites the dust [heavy downbeat music continues…] ---
**Author:** ![El\_Cid\_Viscoso](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/e/41988e/32.png) [@El\_Cid\_Viscoso](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/El_Cid_Viscoso)\ **Post date:** [November 17, 2003, 10:56pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/predict-the-death-of-the-previous-poster/212480/184 "2003-11-17T22:56:01Z")
To the tune of _My Bonny Lies Over the Ocean_. My **NoClue** lies over the ocean, My **NoClue** lies over the sea, He bumped his Pit Thread once too often, Was throttled by **Lynn Bo-do-ni**. ---
**Author:** ![EddyTeddyFreddy](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/eddyteddyfreddy/32/18796_2.png) [@EddyTeddyFreddy](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/EddyTeddyFreddy)\ **Post date:** [November 17, 2003, 10:59pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/predict-the-death-of-the-previous-poster/212480/185 "2003-11-17T22:59:24Z")
**NoClueBoy** was hungry and thirsty. Thirsty and hungry. Oh, the pangs he felt! He ran to **CajunMan** and begged for jumbalaya. **Cajun Man** threw hot peppers at him and told him to begone. He ran to **UncleBeer** and begged for a brewski. **UncleBeer** dumped a hamper of hops over his head and told him to begone. **NoClueBoy** wandered on, disconsolate (and very, very hungry and thirsty). By this time, he was also angry. Then he heard a “psssssst” from behind a hedge. **NCB** hesitated, then sidled over to the hedge. Up popped **Chefguy** , who whispered: “I can get you all the meat and drink you desire, my friend. There’s only one condition: You must tell me the third word that ends in -gry.” **NCB** thought: “That’s easy! I’ll just search the SDMB for a reference to what **Cecil** said!” Alas, the hamsters were on strike for bigger wheels and Perrier in their waterers, the search kept coming up with “The page cannot be displayed”, and by the time the strike was over, poor **NCB** had expired, draped in a forlorn heap over his cobwebbed computer. ---
**Author:** ![EddyTeddyFreddy](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/eddyteddyfreddy/32/18796_2.png) [@EddyTeddyFreddy](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/EddyTeddyFreddy)\ **Post date:** [November 17, 2003, 11:01pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/predict-the-death-of-the-previous-poster/212480/186 "2003-11-17T23:01:26Z")
And **Mr. B** was eaten by ravening orange tiger cats who were infuriated by his having beaten them to **NoClueBoy**. ---
**Author:** ![El\_Cid\_Viscoso](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/e/41988e/32.png) [@El\_Cid\_Viscoso](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/El_Cid_Viscoso)\ **Post date:** [November 17, 2003, 11:05pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/predict-the-death-of-the-previous-poster/212480/187 "2003-11-17T23:05:15Z")
Whilst turning a large hunk of ash On her lathe for some holiday cash **Ed** ’s new gouge, 'twill amaze ya Had been shipped from Malaysia Now we all mourn the Lumpuri Rash. ---
**Author:** ![AncientHumanoid](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/ancienthumanoid/32/278_2.png) [@AncientHumanoid](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/AncientHumanoid)\ **Post date:** [November 17, 2003, 11:07pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/predict-the-death-of-the-previous-poster/212480/188 "2003-11-17T23:07:58Z")
for the record, **MrB** , I asked the mods to close it so it wouldn’t become a multi-page flame fest poo flinging fueled by misplaced anger, as those threads are wont to do. 😛 And then **j\_sum1** exploded for no rational reason, paving the way for other none posting Dopers to be killed (by prediction only) in this out of control thread. 🙂 ---
**Author:** ![Ponder\_Stibbons](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/ponder_stibbons/32/343_2.png) [@Ponder\_Stibbons](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Ponder_Stibbons)\ **Post date:** [November 18, 2003, 12:13am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/predict-the-death-of-the-previous-poster/212480/189 "2003-11-18T00:13:28Z")
Out of control? Out of control? How on earth could you possibly say this is – say, what a pretty flower … oooh, shiny … ---
**Author:** ![Flowerchild](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/f/858c86/32.png) [@Flowerchild](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Flowerchild)\ **Post date:** [November 18, 2003, 1:39am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/predict-the-death-of-the-previous-poster/212480/190 "2003-11-18T01:39:28Z")
I can only say 2 wprds about the death of dear Ponder stibbons: Hamster Food ---
**Author:** ![EddyTeddyFreddy](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/eddyteddyfreddy/32/18796_2.png) [@EddyTeddyFreddy](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/EddyTeddyFreddy)\ **Post date:** [November 18, 2003, 2:00am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/predict-the-death-of-the-previous-poster/212480/191 "2003-11-18T02:00:06Z")
Alas, poor **Flowerchild** – plucked by a nearsighted florist to be the core of a bride’s floral arrangement, and trampled to death by a 300-pound bridesmaid in the stampede to catch the bouquet! ---
**Author:** ![Flowerchild](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/f/858c86/32.png) [@Flowerchild](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Flowerchild)\ **Post date:** [November 18, 2003, 2:14am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/predict-the-death-of-the-previous-poster/212480/192 "2003-11-18T02:14:11Z")
Oh dear, thats just … thats just… funny as hell ---
**Author:** ![SanguineSpider](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/s/e9a140/32.png) [@SanguineSpider](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/SanguineSpider)\ **Post date:** [November 18, 2003, 2:53am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/predict-the-death-of-the-previous-poster/212480/193 "2003-11-18T02:53:45Z")
Nice… I’m liking these deaths! ---
**Author:** ![EddyTeddyFreddy](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/eddyteddyfreddy/32/18796_2.png) [@EddyTeddyFreddy](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/EddyTeddyFreddy)\ **Post date:** [November 18, 2003, 3:47am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/predict-the-death-of-the-previous-poster/212480/194 "2003-11-18T03:47:04Z")
Never mind the compliments; don’t applaud, just throw money. Or kill me off – it _is_ my turn to meet my demise, after all. 😛 ---
**Author:** ![peritrochoid](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/p/c68b51/32.png) [@peritrochoid](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/peritrochoid)\ **Post date:** [November 18, 2003, 4:00am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/predict-the-death-of-the-previous-poster/212480/195 "2003-11-18T04:00:27Z")
**EddyTeddyFreddy** , as much as it pains me, I must momentarily skip predicting your death as I have promised our dear host, **BellaDellaItalia** , a killing. I shall leave _your_ death in the capable hands of the next poster. 'Twas the night before Christmas 2003 when **Bella** decided she needed a vacation. She’d had enough of the cold New York winter. So she called up Clive Dinky’s, _Home of the Full Woody, No Splinter Tropical Dream Vacation … and Spa Salon_. The vacation included a private hut, airfare, food, and drinks. All for just $49.95. How could she go wrong? So, **Bella** booked the vacation and departed bright and early Christmas Day. She landed safely at the island airport and was picked up in a limo, which took her to check in. Clive’s wife, Mona (who had more than just a passing resemblance to Ginger from Gilligan’s Isle) took **Bella** on a tour of the resort. **Bella** noticed the sign: _WELCOME TO OUR SA!_. She thought for a moment, then spoke up. “Spa? S-A? Mona, there’s no _P_ in the spa.” “Yeah. And we’d like to keep it that way!” exclaimed Mona, as she eyed **Bella** suspiciously. Content with her introduction to the resort, **Bella** made the short trek to her hut. On her way there, she passed the _Swim With Pirhanas_ pool, the _Massages by Tarzan_ hut, the _Real, Live Pirates. ARRRR!_ exhibit, and the _S.S. Minnow Museum and Memorial_. She hiked up a short hill and around the side of a mountain and found her hut nestled in a gorgeous array of tropical fauna. The hut was spartan, but clean and pleasant smelling. There was a small table with fresh fruit, and **Bella** spotted the fireplace in the corner. “Ahhhhhhh. I already don’t want to go back to New York. I could stay here forever,” she thought. **Bella** pulled one of the bamboo chairs outside to admire the sunset when, suddenly, she felt a presence. It so startled her that she could literally _hear_ her own heartbeat as the fear coursed through her body. Slowly she turned around to find Tarzan standing there. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” he said shyly. “Hi, I’m Tarzan. I saw you pass by my massage hut on your way here. And I … uhh … was … umm … wondering if you’d … uhh … like some company.” **Bella** let out a sigh of relief, but was still a bit creeped out by Tarzan’s silent arrival. She thought for a moment, then said “Well, truthfully, I was looking forward to spending some time alone here … but, in your case, I’m willing to make an exception.” Tarzan beamed with joy and whipped out his … bottle of coconut wine—the island specialty. Now **Bella** was a little taken aback by Tarzan’s enthusiasm, though caution quickly faded with glass after glass of the sweet coconut wine. Soon, she found Tarzan crying like a baby in her arms. It seems he was heartbroken because he decided to leave the only woman he ever truly loved to open up this massage hut on the island. Her name was **Blonde** and she lived in the jungles of Texas. But that was many years and massages ago, and **Bella** did her best to counsel Tarzan. Long after the sun had set, Tarzan left **Bella** for the eve. She went inside and built a small fire since the nights were a bit cool. **Bella** was sitting in front of the fire, dozing on and off, but not quite ready for bed. She noticed faint rumblings that she felt more than she heard. A deep, resonating bass that would last for a few seconds, then silence. Always inquisitive, she went outside where she could see the beaches and neighboring islands. **Bella** thought she caught faint glimpses of light flashing beneath the waters just before she felt the rumblings. Carefully, she made her way down to the beach to take a closer look. As luck would have it, there was a small diving boat nearby, so she “borrowed” some dive gear and went for an even closer look. She could hardly believe what she saw. Just a few hundred feet offshore, she could dive literally under the island, where she saw teams of divers blasting and cutting giant pillars of the volcanic rock that made up the island. “They must be miners,” she thought. “But what could they be mining for? Oh well, now I know what all the ruckus is about.” With that thought, she made her way back to the shore and up to her hut. The next morning, **Bella** asked Clive Dinky what exactly the miners are looking for. Clive looked at her for a moment and said “You must’ve had some of Tarzan’s favorite coconut wine last night, eh?” **Bella** nodded. “Well,” said Clive “that stuff is potent, and first-timers almost always have hallucinations. I’d stay away from that stuff if I were you.” With that, **Bella** left. Clive, however, made a beeline for the phone. “Hello? Professor? We’ve got a problem. One of our pesky guests got nosy last night and saw your men blasting.” From that point, Clive’s end of the conversation consisted mostly of nods and “right-o’s”. Little did he know, **Bella** hadn’t gone far. She hid out just beneath his window, and she heard the entire conversation! Now intrigued more than ever, **Bella** just had to find out more. As Clive left his office, **Bella** quietly made her way in through the window. A quick search of his office turned up nothing but some rum and a few porn mags. But the framed pirate map is at an odd angle. **Bella** carefully removes the map from the wall and turns it over to find plans and communications … between Clive Dinky and _THE_ Professor! Yes, from Gilligan’s Isle. It seems that Clive’s resort actually belongs to his wife, Mona. And the Professor is losing business, so he made a deal with Clive that if he sinks the resort, the Professor will give him a hefty sum of money and a free replica of the S.S. Minnow to live aboard. **Bella** can hardly believe what she’s just read. She sprints quickly back to her hut … well, sprinting as quickly as a bikini clad, barefoot girl from New York can sprint. “I must stop this! I always knew that Professor had ulterior motives! I’ll bet even Mary Ann is in on it all too!” **Bella** waits for cover of darkness before hiking down to the shore and diving again. This time she notices only a few other divers. There is one last pier left, and there is a team swimming away from it now. “Strange,” she thought. “Why are they swimming away from it?” Then she sees why. The last remaining pier is laced with explosives. This will be the one to bring the island down! Analyzing the pattern and the devices from a distance, **Bella** uses the skills she learned as **NoClueBoy** ’s lab partner in Bomb Defusing 101 (before the _incident_, that is), to size up the situation. She darts toward the pier, grabbing one of the divers swimming away as “insurance”. Surely they won’t detonate it with one of their own still there. She looks back at the other diver’s gear and sees the initials **UB** imprinted on the wetsuit and dive tank. The other divers hesitate for a moment before continuing to swim to safety. **Bella** knows she has just minutes to defuse this bomb, but the pressure is getting to her. It’s making her sweat, and the heat of fear is making her lose her concentration. The **UB** diver is struggling to get away from her, but he’s so weak that **Bella** ’s command over him is effortless. But the bomb! The bomb has just seconds before it detonates, bringing the island down on top of them both, and sinking the resort and it’s guests! “NO!” shouts **Bella**. “I MUST DO THIS!” The bubbles from **UB** ’s regulator are more numerous and moving past her even faster now. And she’s getting even hotter under the pressure of fear. Or is she? In their haste to sink the island, the Professor’s team inadvertently uncapped and agitated an active volcano. The heat **Bella** feels isn’t from her fear and the bubbles aren’t from **UB** ’s regulator. It’s from the water slowly beginning to boil around her. By the time **Bella** realizes this, she and **UB** are in less danger of being crushed than boiled alive. It’s hard to say exactly how she died. Just as her strength was fading and her hopes lost on being boiled to death, the explosives detonated and the island was sunk forever. **Bella** ’s valiant efforts failed, but the Professor didn’t live long enough to enjoy his solo resort. **Blonde** , upon hearing of Tarzan’s death, flew off in a rampage and one-by-one, removed the hearts of the new island guests and staff bare-handed. If anyone knows the source of inspiration for the first few paragraphs of **BellaDellaItalia** ’s death, you get SERIOUS bonus points. I don’t know what that means or what the points are worth, but still … ---
**Author:** ![Blonde](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/b/3be4f8/32.png) [@Blonde](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Blonde)\ **Post date:** [November 18, 2003, 4:19am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/predict-the-death-of-the-previous-poster/212480/196 "2003-11-18T04:19:50Z")
Those elephants are seriously messing up my imaginary love life at this point. **EddyTeddyFreddy** woke up one fine Saturday morning - and decided to take a little walk. But: you have to clean the cat litter boxes first, eh? **ETF** curses under her breath - “how can only SEVEN cats poop this much!?” as she scoops. Did I mention that the litter boxes are located in the laundry room? If not, no matter. Glancing up to the ceiling - **ETF** wonders - now, what the heck is that sound? It sort of resembles the tick-tock of a clock, she wondered (to no one in particular.) The vibration of the pendulum was at right angles to her body - and, since **ETF’s** momma didn’t raise no fool, she instantly saw that the crescent was designed to cross the region of her heart. And a tiny green elf hung from the bottom, grinning whilst the pendulum swung to and fro. “Death,” she said, “any death but that of the Pit!” (no, really, that’s very close to being a Poe quote). Heh. The evil elf that took **EddyTeddyFreddy’s** life was eaten alive by the cats, who were quite upset that their litter box wasn’t clean. They toyed with him a bit before the final kill, of course. ---
**Author:** ![EddyTeddyFreddy](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/eddyteddyfreddy/32/18796_2.png) [@EddyTeddyFreddy](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/EddyTeddyFreddy)\ **Post date:** [November 18, 2003, 5:00am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/predict-the-death-of-the-previous-poster/212480/197 "2003-11-18T05:00:46Z")
**Blonde** was in such a hurry one night, she slipped on a banana peel and slid headfirst into a bubbling lava pit. Which is harder than you might think, given she was lost in the Sahara Desert at the time. ---
**Author:** ![SanguineSpider](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/s/e9a140/32.png) [@SanguineSpider](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/SanguineSpider)\ **Post date:** [November 18, 2003, 5:52am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/predict-the-death-of-the-previous-poster/212480/198 "2003-11-18T05:52:43Z")
**EddyTeddyFreddy** was riding again… ahh, riding! She was astride her beautiful white steed, the famed Pegasus of Olympian stock, white-winged and enigmatic as a dream. The wind teased her long, golden locks out behind her as they flew the bright skies, glorious ribbons of hair that shone in the sun. **ETF** ’s wispy silken robe clung fetchingly to the sweet, youthful curves of her luscious form and she knew no shame from it. Pegasus was steady under her delicate command and **ETF** smiled to rival the fiery orb’s glow. As Pegasus galloped along between the peek-a-boo clouds of the heavens, **ETF** spied a beautiful orchard below and guided her quicksilver mount down to investigate. The land was green and fertile, flowers bloomed rainbows on earth and the fruit was plentiful. **ETF** longed to taste of the treats of the land for she was hungry from her adventurous morning ride, Pegasus gently landing at her silent bidding. Her prized mount knew all her lovely thoughts and knew also her most secret wishes without the fair maid having to even voice them. Lucky was she to have at her whim such a magnificent steed! Slipping gently off his back, **ETF** wandered among the bountiful orchard gracefully, robes flowing down past her dainty ankles to stream out behind her softly like perfumed mist. Pegasus hid himself silently, in case of prying eyes and wicked hearts for such a prize he’d make in the wrong hands. He would hear her mental call if trouble happened along. **ETF** wandered under the gentle, fruit-bearing trees, delighting in the touch of Nature and stopped to pick a bright, juicy red apple that had suddenly caught her eye. She _was_ hungry, she realized, having had nothing to eat all morning and pulled the plump apple from it’s branch. She opened her rosebud mouth to take a nice, big bite when suddenly she heard the most horrid noise ever she had heard in all her young life! A terrible keening sprang up all around her, horrible and louder than anything she’d ever known! Frightened beyond belief, she dropped the apple as if it was the source itself of the horrible din and covered her ears frantically! From behind the very tree she was poised near came a furry little man, mouth open in a large “O” of sound. It was from him the racket originated and seeing the apple now on the ground, the furry little man stopped making his terrible noise. “Do not eat of these apples”, he begged and at once picked up the fruit, jumping up to reattach it to the tree branch. **ETF** let her dainty hands drop away from her ears and stared, too frightened to dare a word. She gathered up the folds of her robe about her as if in comfort and tried to collect her wits as best she could. The furry little man stopped his fruitless jumping, apple still in hand and frowned up at her. “It will not join again with it’s tree!”, he muttered unhappily and frowned even harder at **ETF**. He stalked clumsily around her, eyeing her with beady, black eyes and mumbling under his breath. “Do you know what you have _done_?” he demanded, panting in his fevered state. **ETF** , still very upset, could only shake her golden tressed head and the furry little man sighed wearily, leaning against the apple tree as if very tired from all this commotion. “This fruit is forbidden, only the Gods themselves can touch it, and you… you, a mere mortal maiden, have dared to touch it. Nay, you have pulled it from it’s tree!”, he squawked in digusted outrage. Panting, he wiped at his forehead nervously, dabbing at his brow with a shiny gold scarf that was wrapped long about his neck. Other than the scarf, the furry little man was naked, and **ETF** only now just saw him for what he truly was: a satyr. Small but a perfect half man/half goat with hooves instead of feet and a little wisp of a tail. This orchard was the Gods’ own bounty and satyrs were its guardians. Stories from her childhood came rushing to fill her head, whispers of her older cousins and her mother lingering ghostly in her ears, and she bit her red lip in consternation. “O, little satyr… I know not what I’ve done!”, she cried out at last, wringing her hands anxiously. She twisted the ends of her sleeves as she fretted and fussed, troubled by her most unfortunate deed. Tears sprang to the corners of her eyes and she whimpered. The furry little man regarded her a moment and then grabbed her hand. She squeaked in terror and tried to pull her hand away but could not for the little satyr was much faster than he looked. He pulled her from the tree, from the scene of her wretched crime, and stumbled in his haste, heading out of the orchard proper as quickly as he could. **ETF** pulled and tried to get away but he held fast for he was also much stronger than he looked. 'The Gods are waiting!" he announced impatiently and pulled her some more, all the while **ETF** was trying to slip away in utter shame and horror. They came upon a set of marble steps after a time and he pulled her along up these, strong but not really hurting her but she was terribly afraid. The Gods! What would They do to her for the attempted theft of one of Their apples? Had she but thought, had she but taken heed of the tale of her childhood days… she would have known the blessed field for what it truly was. Alas, the pain of her hunger had gotten the better of her! Up the cruel white steps they flew and **ETF** panicked, screaming as the furry little man pulled her through a graceful marble arch, set with six fluted columns on each side. Where was her mighty Pegasus when her need was so great? Mentally, she called to him, reaching out with her ethereal voice. He was nowhere to be found. The room she found herself in now was a massive, marbled hall, the ceiling lost in a dazzling play of light and mist. It made her head swim with the effort of trying to guess the height. “Mortal.” The voiced boomed out, breaking against the walls in a huge wave. **ETF** shook under its weight and trembled in fear. 'You merit punishment for your crime. You touched the fruit of the Gods with a mortal hand, broke off the blessed apple from its source." **ETF** couldn’t see the being that spoke, she could only make out a bright shimmering light surrounded by several more lights that were lessened in luminance. The light radiated an anger that faintly burned her fair flesh and she trembled anew. “Your steed shall not come to heel, Pegasus is freed from your will for evermore. Leave off from your calling and accept your Fate.” **ETF** whimpered and almost fell to her knees under the onslaught of the power contained in the words. The furry little man caught her before she swooned, and led her back toward the arch. She did not look behind her as the words rang out, so strong, so deep no matter where she went, **ETF** would be able to hear them. “You shall be punished, mortal. Your life forfeit for the life you broke. So as you took the apple, your life is taken in payment.” The furry little man pulled **ETF** from the marbled hall, under the arch they scurried out and down the white steps to find Pegasus waiting, pawing the ground with a shining hoof. **ETF** sighed sadly, confused by the steed’s presence and reached her arms about his great neck softly, laying her fair cheek against his strong one and cried. She shook with her delicate sobbing and the furry little man waited for the tears to subside before he urged her to mount. “He is freed of my whims, satyr. He no longer flies for me”, she told him sadly, echoing the words of the Gods in her own terms. “You shall have one last ride, mortal. One last, great flight before Atropos cuts the thread of your life before its appointed time.” Drying her tears against Pegasus’ feathery mane, **ETF** gracefully takes her place upon the strong, white back and nods. Rearing up, Pegasus charges away from the marbled, columned hall and gains the sky with his mighty, feathered wings. Galloping upon the very air, he rises slowly into the clouds. Hugging him tenderly, her misty robes flowing over his back for the very last time, **ETF** softly whispers her goodbye . At the zenith of his arcing run, Fate cuts the maiden’s thread. Pegasus rides on alone, under the shining sun… ---
**Author:** ![SanguineSpider](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/s/e9a140/32.png) [@SanguineSpider](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/SanguineSpider)\ **Post date:** [November 18, 2003, 5:53am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/predict-the-death-of-the-previous-poster/212480/199 "2003-11-18T05:53:10Z")
**EddyTeddyFreddy** was riding again… ahh, riding! She was astride her beautiful white steed, the famed Pegasus of Olympian stock, white-winged and enigmatic as a dream. The wind teased her long, golden locks out behind her as they flew the bright skies, glorious ribbons of hair that shone in the sun. **ETF** ’s wispy silken robe clung fetchingly to the sweet, youthful curves of her luscious form and she knew no shame from it. Pegasus was steady under her delicate command and **ETF** smiled to rival the fiery orb’s glow. As Pegasus galloped along between the peek-a-boo clouds of the heavens, **ETF** spied a beautiful orchard below and guided her quicksilver mount down to investigate. The land was green and fertile, flowers bloomed rainbows on earth and the fruit was plentiful. **ETF** longed to taste of the treats of the land for she was hungry from her adventurous morning ride, Pegasus gently landing at her silent bidding. Her prized mount knew all her lovely thoughts and knew also her most secret wishes without the fair maid having to even voice them. Lucky was she to have at her whim such a magnificent steed! Slipping gently off his back, **ETF** wandered among the bountiful orchard gracefully, robes flowing down past her dainty ankles to stream out behind her softly like perfumed mist. Pegasus hid himself silently, in case of prying eyes and wicked hearts for such a prize he’d make in the wrong hands. He would hear her mental call if trouble happened along. **ETF** wandered under the gentle, fruit-bearing trees, delighting in the touch of Nature and stopped to pick a bright, juicy red apple that had suddenly caught her eye. She _was_ hungry, she realized, having had nothing to eat all morning and pulled the plump apple from it’s branch. She opened her rosebud mouth to take a nice, big bite when suddenly she heard the most horrid noise ever she had heard in all her young life! A terrible keening sprang up all around her, horrible and louder than anything she’d ever known! Frightened beyond belief, she dropped the apple as if it was the source itself of the horrible din and covered her ears frantically! From behind the very tree she was poised near came a furry little man, mouth open in a large “O” of sound. It was from him the racket originated and seeing the apple now on the ground, the furry little man stopped making his terrible noise. “Do not eat of these apples”, he begged and at once picked up the fruit, jumping up to reattach it to the tree branch. **ETF** let her dainty hands drop away from her ears and stared, too frightened to dare a word. She gathered up the folds of her robe about her as if in comfort and tried to collect her wits as best she could. The furry little man stopped his fruitless jumping, apple still in hand and frowned up at her. “It will not join again with it’s tree!”, he muttered unhappily and frowned even harder at **ETF**. He stalked clumsily around her, eyeing her with beady, black eyes and mumbling under his breath. “Do you know what you have _done_?” he demanded, panting in his fevered state. **ETF** , still very upset, could only shake her golden tressed head and the furry little man sighed wearily, leaning against the apple tree as if very tired from all this commotion. “This fruit is forbidden, only the Gods themselves can touch it, and you… you, a mere mortal maiden, have dared to touch it. Nay, you have pulled it from it’s tree!”, he squawked in disgusted outrage. Panting, he wiped at his forehead nervously, dabbing at his brow with a shiny gold scarf that was wrapped long about his neck. Other than the scarf, the furry little man was naked, and **ETF** only now just saw him for what he truly was: a satyr. Small but a perfect half man/half goat with hooves instead of feet and a little wisp of a tail. This orchard was the Gods’ own bounty and satyrs were its guardians. Stories from her childhood came rushing to fill her head, whispers of her older cousins and her mother lingering ghostly in her ears, and she bit her red lip in consternation. “O, little satyr… I know not what I’ve done!”, she cried out at last, wringing her hands anxiously. She twisted the ends of her sleeves as she fretted and fussed, troubled by her most unfortunate deed. Tears sprang to the corners of her eyes and she whimpered. The furry little man regarded her a moment and then grabbed her hand. She squeaked in terror and tried to pull her hand away but could not for the little satyr was much faster than he looked. He pulled her from the tree, from the scene of her wretched crime, and stumbled in his haste, heading out of the orchard proper as quickly as he could. **ETF** pulled and tried to get away but he held fast for he was also much stronger than he looked. 'The Gods are waiting!" he announced impatiently and pulled her some more, all the while **ETF** was trying to slip away in utter shame and horror. They came upon a set of marble steps after a time and he pulled her along up these, strong but not really hurting her but she was terribly afraid. The Gods! What would They do to her for the attempted theft of one of Their apples? Had she but thought, had she but taken heed of the tale of her childhood days… she would have known the blessed field for what it truly was. Alas, the pain of her hunger had gotten the better of her! Up the cruel white steps they flew and **ETF** panicked, screaming as the furry little man pulled her through a graceful marble arch, set with six fluted columns on each side. Where was her mighty Pegasus when her need was so great? Mentally, she called to him, reaching out with her ethereal voice. He was nowhere to be found. The room she found herself in now was a massive, marbled hall, the ceiling lost in a dazzling play of light and mist. It made her head swim with the effort of trying to guess the height. “Mortal.” The voiced boomed out, breaking against the walls in a huge wave. **ETF** shook under its weight and trembled in fear. 'You merit punishment for your crime. You touched the fruit of the Gods with a mortal hand, broke off the blessed apple from its source." **ETF** couldn’t see the being that spoke, she could only make out a bright shimmering light surrounded by several more lights that were lessened in luminance. The light radiated an anger that faintly burned her fair flesh and she trembled anew. “Your steed shall not come to heel, Pegasus is freed from your will for evermore. Leave off from your calling and accept your Fate.” **ETF** whimpered and almost fell to her knees under the onslaught of the power contained in the words. The furry little man caught her before she swooned, and led her back toward the arch. She did not look behind her as the words rang out, so strong, so deep no matter where she went, **ETF** would be able to hear them. “You shall be punished, mortal. Your life forfeit for the life you broke. So as you took the apple, your life is taken in payment.” The furry little man pulled **ETF** from the marbled hall, under the arch they scurried out and down the white steps to find Pegasus waiting, pawing the ground with a shining hoof. **ETF** sighed sadly, confused by the steed’s presence and reached her arms about his great neck softly, laying her fair cheek against his strong one and cried. She shook with her delicate sobbing and the furry little man waited for the tears to subside before he urged her to mount. “He is freed of my whims, satyr. He no longer flies for me”, she told him sadly, echoing the words of the Gods in her own terms. “You shall have one last ride, mortal. One last, great flight before Atropos cuts the thread of your life before its appointed time.” Drying her tears against Pegasus’ feathery mane, **ETF** gracefully takes her place upon the strong, white back and nods. Rearing up, Pegasus charges away from the marbled, columned hall and gains the sky with his mighty, feathered wings. Galloping upon the very air, he rises slowly into the clouds. Hugging him tenderly, her misty robes flowing over his back for the very last time, **ETF** softly whispers her goodbye . At the zenith of his arcing run, Fate cuts the maiden’s thread. Pegasus rides on alone, under the shining sun… ---
**Author:** ![EddyTeddyFreddy](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/eddyteddyfreddy/32/18796_2.png) [@EddyTeddyFreddy](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/EddyTeddyFreddy)\ **Post date:** [November 18, 2003, 6:15am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/predict-the-death-of-the-previous-poster/212480/200 "2003-11-18T06:15:04Z")
My best death yet! Thanks, **SanguineSpider**!!! I’d try to repay the favor, but I’m falling asleep right now, so off to bed. I hope the next poster will give you a grand sendoff. 🙂 [Previous page](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/predict-the-death-of-the-previous-poster/212480.md?page=9) [Next page](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/predict-the-death-of-the-previous-poster/212480.md?page=11)