Predict the Death of the Previous Poster

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
81

BigDaiv is so excited on August 23, 2004 – his volume of collected haiku has just sold its 50,000th copy, and the publishers have invited him to a gala bash to celebrate. They’ve hired ** rimshotgdansk** to provide the entertainment with his glass harmonica, while BellaDellaItalia will ride in on Horseflesh, slither off, and perform a bellydance.

What the publishers haven’t counted on is SanguineSpider deciding to drop in – literally. From the ceiling. As the uninvited guest zooms down the silken strand, both Horseflesh and invited guest Zebra spook. They bolt into the glass harmonica, oversetting it with a thunderous crash.

Ponder Stibbons leaps forward to shield Bella but trips over spiff and slams into Mangetout just as he’s carrying the 10-tiered cake out from the kitchen. Since jjimm has already lit the candles, they set fire to drapes, clothes, and anything else combustible, as the guests scatter in all directions.

Everyone races toward the exit – only to discover that WhiteyFoo had absentmindedly locked the doors! Governor Quinn tries to calm the frenzied mob and lead them to safety, but gets confused in the thickening smoke and directs them into a dead-end stairwell.

The fire department arrives just in the nick of time, and begins spraying torrents of water upon the raging inferno from all directions. This unfortunately causes the roof to collapse, crushing everything underneath it.

Everything except the dead-end stairwell, wihch miraculously survives. Everyone emerges safely!

And they all die a week later of food poisoning from tainted shrimp at the party.

82

You know, I just knew there was something wrong with that shrimp!! I suppose I could avoid all of this by throwing it out now instead of keeping it in the fridge for the next year …

83

oh ETF you kill me (literally)

ok im going to be hard pressed to top that

EddyTeddyFreddy’s three ginger boycats (have i got that right?) get over excited at the sound of a can opening and thus run around in circles near ETF, they then trip her up which results in a crash and ETF pulls the sink down with her, the colapse of the sink and subsequent loud noise cause tremors which are felt by Angua in birmingham as she is working late, however her computer, being evil, decides that it doesnt want to work in earthquake conditions and goes on strike so Angua throws it at the wall which causes a power surge blacking out the world, this means that ETF pinned down by the sink cannot use her phone (it requires mains to work) and ths cannot call someone to come and remove her sink, her cats still in a feeding frenzy but unable to get to the can decide to eat ETF which results in her death
DOWN WITH PUNCTUATION (except apostrophes)

84

Damn. And I don’t even LIKE shrimp.

85

BDI,BDI,BDI. Whatever ever inspired you to juggle chainsaws whilst tightrope walking across a gorge in the middle of a warzone is a mystery that’ll never be solved. And even more tragic is the fact you may have been alive to tell the tale had it not been for the coconut that the two passing sparrows dropped.

86

Well, The_Immortal_Mango, your demise … actually you won’t have one, as you are immortal. Sorry 'bout that. But you will dry up to a tiny pit one day and rue the day (no relation to Rue DeDay) you were sprouted.

87

Ponder Stibbons, it’s a true mystery as to what happened to you. Last spotted wandering into a cornfield one Friday night, you were never heard from again; investigation into your disappearance revealed only a sock, three buttons, and a tinfoil hat lying in a shallow depression in the middle of the field.

Unbeknownest to all, you were abducted by alien visitors from the planet Archosalez who performed strange experiments on you the likes of which are not fit for repeating on a family forum. You were accidently vaporized when one of your captors decided to turn the power all the way up on your restraint collar. Sorry 'bout that.

88

True to your username, Nichol_storm, you meet your demise when a tornado rips through your neighborhood. You get swept up into the massive funnel with large appliances and farm animals flying around you. As the tornado dies down, you are dropped on top of a haystack which breaks your fall, leaving you completely unharmed. Unfortunately, one of the cows in the tornado lands in the same spot only moments after, crushing you to death.

89

Krys92gp, life has been good to you so far. All this changes, however, on June 19, 2012, when you go for a sail in a small dinghy on Lake Erie. You don’t realize how far you’ve drifted from shore, until a violent thunderstorm comes roaring across the lake.

As the lightning strikes and crackles all around you, as the thunder smashes overhead, as torrential sheets of rain pound down, you struggle to reef your sail and head your puny vessel into the howling wind.

You think you’re making headway, when suddenly BOOM your little mast is struck by seven separate bolts of lightning simultaneously. In the blinding flash of light, you slip from consciousness, feeling as you go the boat rise up, up, up…

You awaken in silence and darkness. You sit up, groggy and dazed, and try to figure out why the boat is perfectly still. Reaching a hand over the side, you feel… sand.

You try to understand what’s going on – how did you get there? Where can you go now? What can you do? No answers come to you. At last, you step reluctantly over the side of your dinghy and take a few cautious steps away.

When you turn back, the dinghy is gone. Only a shallow depression in the sand remains for your desperately scrabbling hands to discover.

Then you hear the howling in the distance. Howling like no earthly beast has ever uttered. Howling that’s coming closer…

You turn to flee and dash in terror away, over endless levels and dunes of sand, slipping and staggering, as the howls draw ever closer, closer, closer – they’re at your heels! They’re drawing even with you! Dark, twisted, evil shapes surround you; sparks flash from demonic eyes; you feel their putrid hot breath upon your neck…

At this point you wake up screaming from your nightmare; feel foolish; get up to go to the bathroom; trip over the cat; fall head first down the stairs and break your neck.

90

Well, ETF, your cats have been your predicted demise twice now, but only I really know what will happen.

You know those WMD’s everyone’s been looking for? Well, they’re under your house. And they’ve been leaking. They’ll do you in any day now. Sorry.

91

Dental care accident.VVVVRrrrrrrrrrrrr!

Ponder: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!

R.I.P.

92

Some twenty something college students will whip up a vat of a powerful aphrodisiac which they then use to spike the water supply of Murfreesboro.

It was a sad, sad sticky day in that city. We’ll miss everyone.

93

Fern Forest liked to pole-vault. It was a great hobby, and one that she could do at any location with 1) a flexible pole, and 2) a high wall.

One cool summer evening, she pole-vaulted over a 12-foot wall. Unfortuantly, she landed in the middle of the Army Proving Grounds, just before an artillery test.

She will be greatly missed by those who knew her.

94

It was a dark and stormy night. Truly, it was. Unfortunately for Fern Forest, it was also grocery night. He hated the rain, but he hated the dark even more. But, being a creature of routine, he just had to do get the grocery shopping over with or he would be overcome with guilt. So he drove down to the store and meandered up and down the aisles. “No doubt,” he thought, “a grocery list certainly makes this a helluva lot easier. Why didn’t I think of this before?” Just as Fern rounded the corner, he bumped into EddyTeddyFreddy. She exclaimed something about him watching where he was going and quickly sped off to the dairy aisle. Fern thought to himself, “Man, she was rude. I wonder what cat peed in her wheaties.”

It wasn’t long before he had all the essentials - beer, pigs feet, cheese whiz, Spam, and several vegetarian microwave meals. Fern made his way through check-out and wheeled the cart to the car. By this time, it was very dark outside, and ol’ Fernie started to panic. “Calm down. Calm down,” he told himself. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Just then, our hero remembers that he forgot one last thing. So, he locks the car and heads back into the store. He smiles at the young mother ahead of him who, in a proud sort of way, is struggling with the young’un who can’t sit still. Fern wanders back to the softdrinks, where there is a nice display of his favorite cola. He is amused to find the young mother parking the cart right there too, and strikes up a conversation. Turns out she’s a single mother, finishing school for her engineering degree, all the while holding down a full time job. Fern gets her number and they set a date for Saturday night, but continue to chat. Now, our hero should have noticed the rather unusual height of the cola display, but in his haste, he didn’t make note of it. Neither he nor the mother noticed the kid plucking a bottle from the shelf next to the cart. He shakes it and giggles at the bubbles, but his young grip isn’t strong enough to hold it on the last shake. The bottle leaves the little boy’s hands and flies through the air, coming to a hard landing right on top of the display. This jolt was enough to start the display swaying, much like Lobsang’s final dance at the Jack Daniel’s Distillery. Back and forth, back and forth, the display swayed. Fern, completely enamoured with the young mother, is completely oblivious to the mad gyrations of the cola. That is, was oblivious … right up until the moment the 15 foot high display of canned colas come toppling down on top of him. The mother, in stunned silence, quickly turns around and quietly resumes shopping with her giggling little boy. “That’s funny … that’s the fifth time today,” she mutters.

95

“ROAD TRIP,” shouted Governor Quinn.

It was March 2005, and Bosda had skillfully “acquired” a 1978 Pontiac Trans Am, just like the one Burt Reynolds drove in Smokey and the Bandit, and dropped in to show it off. GQ convinced Bosda, against better judgement, to let him take the car for a spin. Bosda had barely gotten out of the driver seat before GQ was in it and gone! Sadly, GQ was yelling “YEEHAH” in a Dukes of Hazzard style rather than Bandit style, but that hardly mattered to the state trooper who clocked him doing 85 in a 35. GQ was living his dream. For years, he had always admired the cool-headed Bandit and his luck with the women. This was his chance to live like his hero. GQ had become quite adept at outrunning the cops back in the day. However, with radio, airplanes, and choppers, this chase was going to demand all the chase-craft he could muster. He buzzed through downtown, leaving a trail of cycle cops embedded in a bus. He dusted off the road by the park, leaving a couple of troopers sliding down the bank into the river. But he misjudged the speed of radio and found himself closing in very quickly on a roadblock. He had only seconds to think. His foot was planted firmly on the floor. Fortunately, just to the left, an unmarked gravel road veered off. This was all GQ needed. This backroad was, no doubt, part of a larger network of those roads laid out by the moonshine runners of the old days. Off he goes, leaving a dusty cloud of gravel and dirt behind him. If GQ had time to think, he probably would have remembered that this was the road to the swamps and old man Cooter’s Quarry. Soon, GQ found himself airborne, having hit an embankment just at the edge of the swamp. For a moment, it looked like he might clear the worst of it. But only for a moment. GQ was airborne just long enough to get the “YEE …” part of the “YEEHAW” out. When the troopers arrived, Bosda’s shiny new/old Trans Am had landed nose-first in the soft mud of the swamp. Nothing was visible but the tail lights. Looking back, he regretted letting GQ talk him into driving the car and was really sad that he was gone now. But he realized that GQ had gone happy.

96

peritrochoid:

It’s November 22, 2003. You decide to take a ride to your local Blockbuster, thinking you might pick up a movie about JFK’s assassination. Strolling down the aisles, you encounter three young children - looking for Finding Nemo, you suppose. Glancing back as they pass, your heart stops momentarily as you notice their eyes appear to be glowing red.

“Optical illusion, bad lighting” you tell yourself. Approaching the front counter with JFK in your hand, you reach into your wallet for the Blockbuster card. Ah, there it is! Except - the sides are now razors, which slice your fingers off cleanly.

As you die bleedly on the floor, the last words you hear are “Would you like to place an advance order for Matrix Revolutions?”

97

Alas, poor Blonde! Who could have foreseen that her generous impulse to help out at the local soup kitchen over the holidays would lead to her untimely demise? Who ever would have suspected that she would trip over an adorable orphan, slide 20 feet in spilled bacon grease, and tumble into a bubbling vat of pea soup?

At least the soup didn’t need a hambone for flavoring.

98

I haven’t laughed this much since Quisimodem’s venture into GD. Good show, all!

ETF - Christmas is almost upon us, and so you decide to visit your local Home Depot to buy a brand new tree. Oh, what a beauty. A TWELVE feet high tall Christmas tree - a mere $269, what a bargain!

After hours of putting the tree together, you decide that it’s time to call it a night.

And, then…

You hear a sound. Again. Fearing burglars are in the home, you stumble into the living room - and see the cats attacking your tree. As you run toward them screaming “no, kitty, no!” they panic and run UP the tree. It falls down upon you, shards of ornament glass rupture your veins, and you die.
Meanwhile, the cats witness your death with much curiosity as they wash their paws.

99

(guffawing while clutching sides)

Very good, Blonde! Right up there with peritrochoid’s dispatch of us both at New Year’s. I’m truly amazed at the ingenious deaths that await us all.

Since I’ve just killed you already, I’ll let someone else do the honors now.

100

**peritrochoid **—I do not “yee-hah” at any time whatsoever!!
In 2029, we quietly walk down the corridors of a major universitiy’s medical/biological research facility. There, in a large glass tube filled with preservative, is peritrochoid. Doesn’t he look natural?