That feels really nice, thinks. But that’s not even close to where I fell. 
Jeez, struut, how picky are you? You got a guy rubbing on you; now he has to walk you back to the place you fell?
Alrighty, it seems we’re quickly assembling a band of worthy warriors, to march of to glory against this cute, evil thingie. NOW this thread is starting to look like the threadkillers contest of olden days.
We have Tymp, hinged codpiece, eloquent speech, and all.
Me, wielding sporks and a nifty karate outfit straight from the Matrix (with hat, of course)
Sauron, with all his dark, evil, One-ring-seeking powers, as well as lots of goose grease.
fierra controlling frigid, icy snow.
The Mermaid showing us the beast’s <shudder> picture.
And, of course, struuter, caterer of battles, serving us all hot knishes and just generally looking hot. (And you thought you couldn’t contribute anything).
Now, I say, ONWARD!
now you’ve sone it, Sauron…she was hoping that he would slip in the goose grease too! He’ll never fall for it now.
Oh. Damn. My bad, struuter.
Um … she fell over there.
Funny, very funny. fierra gives Sauron the grease. He slathers it on. I trip on it. You two set me up, I see it now.
sigh Oh well.
At least I distracted the beast for a moment. It got a good laugh when I fell on my arse.
Um, guys? I don’t know where ya got that puppy, but the thread is over HERE…Points behind everyone at the very large, scaly, snake-like beast drooling thru its’ fangs like a Pavlovian dog with rabies at the dinner bell.
And It’s getting BIGGER! You can tell how old they are by counting the segments, and this thing has Five!
Of course this is nothing compared to the time that lizard got into Harvey Jessups’ cellar awhile back. Ol Harvey never went down to his cellar very often, as he was afraid of his heating system. I didn’t blame him a bit. That ol’ heater of his was older than the house itself. I always figured they’d found it when they dug the cellar and cleaned it up to use. The thing groaned and moaned and puffed steam like an old locomotive, but damn did it heat his house! Trouble was, it heated the cellar a little too well too. I figure that’s why the Lizard decided to make his residence there in the Jessup cellar. All nice and warm, and plenty of bugs to eat, seein’ as it was a dirt-floor cellar. So anyways, Ol Harvey phones over to my house one day and asks if I could come on over to his place and help with a little problem he was having. Now if I’da known that this problem woulda involved his cellar, I woulda told him I’d taken ill or was just on my way to some appointment or something. But no, I had to go and be all neighborly, and said I’d be over in a flash. When I got over there, I knew right away I was in trouble when he hands me a flashlight and says “We gotta go downstairs.”
So I says to him, “Now wait just one cotton-pickin’ minute there Harv. You know how I feel about yer cellar!” He says, " I know that. But I’ve been hearin’ something thudding around down there, and it ain’t that dad-gummed heater. This thing is MOVING around." Now as you could prolly guess, this did even less to inspire my courage. He says to me, “Aw it’s prolly just some rats. I just need you to hold the flashlight while I set some traps.” See his cellar wasn’t wired with lights. And even if it had been, I doubt Harv woulda gone down there to change burned out bulbs. Then he hands me an old broom. He says " Here, you can use this to whack any rats if they get close to you". Well, now that I was armed, (broomed?) I was feelin a tad bit braver…So he grabs his box of traps, and heads for the kitchen where the trap-door to the cellar was, back in the floor of his pantry under the stairs to the second floor of his house. Then I felt it. THUD It was bit behind us, at about the middle of his kitchen. I swear the whole floor jumped. I grabs Harv by the shoulder and spins him around. “That was not a rat!” I almost shouts at him. “What the hell you got down in that celler you idiot?!” He’s fairly shakin now. “I really don’t know, but I sure as hell ain’t goin down there by my self to find out!” he shouts back. “Now are you gonna help me, or are you gonna run home like a little yella girly?” Now I could’a pointed out at this time that he was just as yella fer not wantin to go down there by hisself, But he had already attacked MY courage, so now I HAD to show him up, and take him down a notch in the proccess. I shoves him back behind me and I takes hold of the ring to open the trap-door. I looks him square in the eye and says, “Ain’t NOBODY calls ME yella.” and I yanks open the door. I shines my flashlight down into the inky black of that cellar, and a wash of musty, moldy, damp, stinky air gusts into my face like an escaping ghost at holloween. Well that flashlight was fairly crappy, and I could hardly see to the bottom of the steps. “Ya see anythig?” Harvy asks, his head almost on my shoulder trying to get a look. Bout damn near scared me to death. I pushes him back. “Give me a little room here ya big doofus.” I says to him, and I starts down the steps. The steps were fairly old, and not well kept up, much like the rest of that house. But years of neglect and mildew had taken their toll on the wood. I could feel the steps bending under my feet as I slowly moved down. I finaly gets down to where my head is below the door and I shines the flashlight around that dank pit.
The first thing I sees were those Eyes. Glowin in the light of my light like to angry hot coals, about ten feet in front of me and about three and a half feet up from where I figure the floor should be. I slips on the step and stumbles back into Harvey, who wasn’t quite down yet. then the Eyes disappear and I hear this sorta slithering sound move deeper into the dark. Right about then the ol heater decides to blow some steam with a loud whoosh! That was all I could take. I gets my footing, shoves Harvey to one side and bounds up the stairs like the only cat in a pit bull dog show. I yells all the way up, "You better call the Sheriff to help you, cause I ain’t!
Turns out that when the Sheriff got there with his big ol flashlight and a few spotlights, that Harvey had noting but a big ol salamander down there. It had been sitting on an old chair when I saw it. the Thud was just the heater blowin off steam. Harvey got a new heater after that…
As the Christmas season doesn’t officially begin until the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, so too do the official efforts to kill the unkillable thread not start in earnest until particlewill shows up with a story.
Good story, PW. Remind me to tell you about the time I attacked a rubber snake with a pushbroom in my parents’ basement.
Amen to that Sauron. Always good to hear from will. Although his stories tend to aggitate the thread instead of putting it to sleep. Anyway, I like them.
<looks at post> All my sentences begin with the same letter! And that last one did too! And so did that one!
HELP!! I’ve got THREAD FEVER!! ugh
Hmmm…I was thinking about competing this year, since my amateur efforts have been pretty successful, but now I think I’ll just set up some kegs over here by the bleachers and handle the beer and pretzel concessions. 
Yo! get yer programs here!
Can’t tell the players without a program!
Well you need amateurs like us in this thread, because our bumbling is what makes the crowds appreciate the efforts of the pros, pros like, well like everybody else in this thread…:Whew: that too too much effort, I think I will sit by you for a bit…
Sure, your attempt at forgetting me will get you nothing!
Take that! ::thwapppp!::
Ooooh, you’ll never get the plastic spoon mark off of your forehead.
Here, try some goose grease.
Does this merry band of threadicidal maniacs have room for a dusty old mercenary?
Yes, I have returned. After having been worn out by not one, but two virtual wives, and fearsome battle in the Jello Pit, I am fully recovered and ready to battle this thready, slimey, scaly beast. I just had my annual special combination flea dip & threadslime repellant bath, and I stand armed, fangy, and mouth-foamy as ever.
Tymp - nice codpiece, bud. The center diamond is a brilliant addition.
Jester - you old spork-wielding karate chopper you!
Sauron - that goose grease smells awful. Please watch you step, we don’t need you slip and break your ass.
fierra - I see you have the snowman primed and ready, and all geeked up for battle. Well done.
p-will - There’s something scritching around in my attic. Care to take a look?
And of course, struuter, Queen of all that is good and tasty, including food.
:: checks calendar ::
Oh look, a full moon just around the corner…
Hey DW! You know, just the other night I was looking out at the beautiful clear sky and when I saw that waxing moon I thought of you. Really.
Some may call that sweet. Others may just shake their collective head and mutter, “Jeez girl, get a life.”
Still, I’m glad to see you. And I hope you brought your snausages. Somebody is bound to ask about them.
And do watch your step…goose grease, you know. 
:bump myself:
When I see the moon, I tend to think of DW too…it’s terrible the effect that you have on us young, impressionable girls, wolfie…strange, you’re not on any of my three wolf calendars this year!
Um, DW, I know you prefer snausages, so come over here and eat these…stop licking that goose grease of Sauron’s…erm, I don’t think I’d better say! (DW, has your eyesight gone bad - struuter is standing next to him!)
Can I play too?
:: blush ::
Aw, shucks, struuter and fierra. You two beauties sure know how to make a wolf feel loved! I, for one, think you’re both sweet.
fierra, thanks for the snausages! :: smacks lips :: Mmmmm, I see (and smell) that these are the ones you’ve had soaking in BBQ sauce.
I also rescued that 20 pound sack of onions and the potato flour from the last round of threadkilling. I already sliced up the onions - we can’t have our struuter getting all teary eyed, now, can we?
umm hi everyone.
waves