Dream Killing Game

You are scheduled to fight the chuck to a death match and for the first 2 rounds you are doing rather well. Little did you realize he was pulling a classic rope-a-dope and Norris, having sprung from one of Adrian Smith's ass pimples, is technically his progeny and thus diluted Awesomeness. Just awesome enough to gauge your eyes, because the chuck follows no rules, then while you cry like the day Doug, your elementary school bully from years past, made you cry, "uncle," Chuck chucks on your nuts like a woodchuck chucks wood and finally severing your head from the rest of your body with a squarely placed uppercut.

I wish I didn't get ass pimples...
 
...And you don't. You start to wonder at the amazing absurdity of this. "Every one gets ass pimples," you think, "even that hunky guy I stare at in the shower at the gym.". You decide to look into your DNA to explain the mystery of your lack of clogged ass pores. As fate and weird science would have it, during a lab accident at Area 51, the puss from a basilisks ass pimple was spilled into the yolk of a harpy's egg (some sort of failed breakfast mix) and the Onhell in a test tube was created.

I wish my cd player would play all the tracks on a cd.
 
You get your shrugging emoticon, but it shrugs too fast making it look like it's masturbating especially since an expression of confusion and an "O" face can be easily confused. Due to it's perverted nature it offends the 1.5 female posters on the board and they report you to the moderation squad. the Mod Squad deliberate for an hour and a half and decide to ban you, after all it was your idea.

You try to log on to the BB, but you realize you no longer have access. As you stare dumbfounded at your screen your shocked off your chair as Perun comes crashing through your window in Spec Ops gear. You are barely recovering from that when Wasted kicks down your bed room door quickly followed by LC and SMX. After beating you nearly unconscious with Nerf bats they tar and feather you. As they walk away in slow mo LC looks back and says, "You don't fuck with the Mod Squad, ey!"


I want a ten speed bike.
 
While in the drunk tank, awaiting your release on bail, from your last bicycle fiasco involving your recently minted DIU, your ex-girlfriend from three back finds out about it.  No, not the one that left you to perform humanitarian rescue in Haiti (that was 4 back, remember the one that had her back pierced, two exes ago? you always forget to count her), its the one that is slightly crazy-- the one that cut the hair off every third troll doll in your massive troll-doll collection.  She decides that she wants back in your good graces, and buys you a new ten speed bicycle and has it for you when you get released from your over night in jail.  You are feeling a little apprehensive over being involved with her again, but she seems very serious and apologetic.  And the bike is pretty damn nice.  So, you and she ride off to your apartment to enjoy a nice evening together.  After dinner and a movie, you sit back to relax on your couch.  Strangely enough, you are feeling very dizzy.  "I only had a Mr Pibb," you think, "that shouldn't make me feel like this."  Unbeknown to you, she slipped you a mickey, and you are soon passed out on your couch.  When you wake the following afternoon, you are missing your clothes, and your remaining troll dolls are all bald.  Shortly after that, you realize that their hair has been super glued over your entire body, making you look like a reject from the Muppet show. 

I want it to stop raining.
 
It stops raining and the sun comes out from behind the clouds. As it so happens, it shines incessantly night and day, vaporising all the water within a 5000-mile radius. The water rises up to become clouds that rain down over the Amazon rain forest. The Amazon rises, drowning the entire forest, which does irreversible harm to the eco-system. A storm coming down from the Andes blows all the water down to the ocean, forming a giant tidal wave that drowns Portugal and a good chunk of Spain. The refugees make for France, Italy and Germany,- overthrowing the entire political and social order in those countries. The US and Russian government decide to march in those countries to restore peace and expel two thirds of the population to Brazil, where the Amazon flood has left a giant pasture, to tend the new ridiculously large cattle herds. The methane rising from those herds triggers a cataclysmic greenhouse effect that rises world temperature to an average of 100°F. Al Gore steps up to the TV cameras and just as he is about to say "I told you so", he dies of a heat stroke. You want it to rain.

I want a Samoan babe to make me happy.
 
She arrives via forklift.

Those of you who have been around for awhile should know exactly why it's funny that Perun desires anyone from the East, even Oceania. If you recall, a long time ago he had a thing for Asian ladies. For a certain reason, that changed. It was very, VERY difficult to not reference that in this thread.

I wish I had a car.
 
The car magically appears right above you.
You know the rest.


I wish vidjeo gamez were free.
 
Perun said:
Loosey... <_<
Click to expand...

If it makes you feel any better I've been here a long time and don't have the slightest clue as to what he is talking about :) Not to mention I can picture you saying that a la James T. Kirk's "Khan." :p
Mega said:
The car magically appears right above you.
You know the rest.


I wish vidjeo gamez were free.
Click to expand...

You make your wish, but nobody has a clue what vidjeo gamez are...
 
Hahahaha!!!!

Musta been when you were off the site. I didn't respond cause that's all I could think of.
 
You read so fast that you pump your poor suffering brain full of information, until you start forgetting random facts. You can tell somewhat what Mickey Mantle's batting average was in 1952 but can't remember where you live. You get locked up in the Rubber Ramada for your own safety, as you incoherently babble about unreleased Blind Guardian songs.

I wish I had a Chewbacca suit to wear on Halloween.
 
You want a Chewy suit for halloween and you are hellbent on it being "authentic." You scour costume shop after costume shop disapointed over and over again by the horrible quality of the garment. Your search takes you to a small chinese shop in the outskirts of Denver. As you walk through the dark store you catch glimpses of Mogwai, The Ghostbusters old equipment and Thing Addams in a cage drumming its fingers. You dismiss it all as good merchandise since the candlelight is probably playing tricks on you. All of a sudden there it is! Right by the S&M outfits, out-sized dildos and handcuffs! The perfect Chewbacca outfit! The diminutive Chinese man tries to convince you not to buy it, since you can't make much sense of his broken English you just think his a real haggler and you give him the 500 dollars in your pocket even though the suit was only 15.

You put on the suit and it is a big hit! You don't really understand why people keep complimenting you on your awesome Chewy growl impression since you are trying to keep up with the conversation and you are speaking normally. Things turn for the worse as the next day you realize you can no longer take off the suit. Frightened you start running through the streets of Denver yelling, "Help! I'm trapped in my Chewbacca costume and I can't get out!" But all people hear is "AAARRRGHH GGGRR GURGGLE GAGGLE!" People flee from you in fear thinking you are a mutant beaver or Raccoon come to eat their children. Instead of helping you people start stoning you and you flee to the mountains. You are pleased that the authentic Chewbacca hair is perfect for cold weather.

Unbeknown to you the Townsfolk, yes I just referred to Denver as a dinky town, gather at the local rec center and start debating what to do about Bigfoot. That's right, after debating for 6 hours whether you were a mutant raccoon or beaver born of man's neglect for the environment and toxic waste having comic-book effects on you, they thought the more rational explanation was that you are Bigfoot and must be killed for threatening good ole American suburban life. Never mind the scientific significance of a man trapped in a haunted chewbacca costume.

You survive in the mountains but eating squirrels, since you don't feel like tackling a porcupine and deer flee at the mere smell of you.  That night you are munching on a tasty beaver, proud of yourself for finally having the balls to kill something larger than a fucking squirrel. After all you are motherfucking Chewbacca! But all is not right in the Rocky Mountains, oh no. You catch a small glimmer in the distant and drop your beaver in horror as you realize you are witnessing a honest to goodness mob. This is no ordinary mob though. Sure they have torches and pitchforks but they also have shot guns and deer hunting rifles. You turn to flee but the fuckers were clever and surrounded you. You stand with your back against the mountain side and the angry townsfolk are staring at you through their sights and scopes. Finally one says, "Any last words you hairy son of a jackal?"  

You sigh your relief, you'll be able to explain everything to them, "I'm a human being you idiots! I'm stuck inside this suit and I need your help to get out!" But all the towns people hear is "AARARRRGHGGH GURRRR GRRR gARRGLE!!" They take your desprate arm gesticulations as a threat and begin to unload their weapons on you. As the bullets hit you your life starts flashing before your eyes. You see your friends, Han, Luke and those gay little Ewokes. Then you realize that is NOT your life, but Chewy's... but to late... your dead.

The townsfolk severe your head and put it up on a spike in the outskirts of Denver to warn other Bigfoots from entering their town. They burn your body much to the dismay of scientists....

I want to streak through work.
 
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