It's 4am here and I am bored, and slightly stressed out at some going-on's in my life right now, so I need a laugh damnit. Help a fellow Escapee out and share your best funny and/or surreal stories you either have experienced or have been told to you. They can be bar-jokes or essay-length set-ups. I don't care!
To start us off, a story of a friend of mine and myself:
Now, I have a friend named Andrew, and he used to live in this big-ass house down by a lake. As such, his basement (which was also unfortunately our gaming room) would often be filled with creepy-crawlies of all sorts, and Andrew and I, and many of our other friends, have gone on many-a-crusade against the insectoid and aracnid denizens and invaders of the basement.
Throughout the years, however, we would gain certain nemeses who we could and did identify. These special bugs were gifted names, based on their abilities and demeanors to escape our purgings of all things with more than 4 legs. (Andrew had a dog)
There was Shelob, a massive spider that lived in a mousehole that had a large web we would have to get rid of weekly that always contained vast collections of other bugs, so she was regarded as both a guardian and a nuisance at the same time.
There was Cannonpede, who was a large centipede that not only created gigantic broods of other, smaller centipedes, but also could effin' JUMP, and would often do so right onto one of us, as if it knew and gained pleasure from watching us freak the fuck out and disrupt our gaming rituals. Cannonpede was eventually cornered in it's nest after we broke open a portion of the wall, and we burned it's body on a sacrifical altar (toothpick) to appease Ares' generous fortunes.
There was Mourning Cricket, who we actually never found, and we speculated that there could have been more than one. Mourning Cricket, or 'Eulogy' as our buddy Malcolm called him, seemingly knew when we would kill another bug, in which it would then play a song as crickets do, as if to send off it's fallen comrade in style. Perhaps it was actually singing a song of celebration for our victory? We shall never know.
But there were none more infamous than a roach that continued to haunt us, even until Andrew moved from that house. This roach, was known only as: Spatial Dynamics Cockroach. SDC himself was of average size, and never really did anything against us, but he was a bug and thus had to die. What SDC would do, however, was taunt us. For you see, this cockroach was a genius. On so many numerous occasions, we would sight SDC on a wall. Now, SDC was able to calculate our height, even with arms extended upwards, even when we would pick something up (baseball bats, hockey sticks, machetes, etc), and would always crawl JUST out of reach and halt, looking down at us...laughing...forever laughing. We knew it was him, for in our first encounter with SDC, we clipped him, and took off a leg and wing. That was the only time any mortal was close to snuffing out his perversion.
And those are just a few of our legendary quarries who we hunted in those happier, more simple times...
Your turn.
To start us off, a story of a friend of mine and myself:
Now, I have a friend named Andrew, and he used to live in this big-ass house down by a lake. As such, his basement (which was also unfortunately our gaming room) would often be filled with creepy-crawlies of all sorts, and Andrew and I, and many of our other friends, have gone on many-a-crusade against the insectoid and aracnid denizens and invaders of the basement.
Throughout the years, however, we would gain certain nemeses who we could and did identify. These special bugs were gifted names, based on their abilities and demeanors to escape our purgings of all things with more than 4 legs. (Andrew had a dog)
There was Shelob, a massive spider that lived in a mousehole that had a large web we would have to get rid of weekly that always contained vast collections of other bugs, so she was regarded as both a guardian and a nuisance at the same time.
There was Cannonpede, who was a large centipede that not only created gigantic broods of other, smaller centipedes, but also could effin' JUMP, and would often do so right onto one of us, as if it knew and gained pleasure from watching us freak the fuck out and disrupt our gaming rituals. Cannonpede was eventually cornered in it's nest after we broke open a portion of the wall, and we burned it's body on a sacrifical altar (toothpick) to appease Ares' generous fortunes.
There was Mourning Cricket, who we actually never found, and we speculated that there could have been more than one. Mourning Cricket, or 'Eulogy' as our buddy Malcolm called him, seemingly knew when we would kill another bug, in which it would then play a song as crickets do, as if to send off it's fallen comrade in style. Perhaps it was actually singing a song of celebration for our victory? We shall never know.
But there were none more infamous than a roach that continued to haunt us, even until Andrew moved from that house. This roach, was known only as: Spatial Dynamics Cockroach. SDC himself was of average size, and never really did anything against us, but he was a bug and thus had to die. What SDC would do, however, was taunt us. For you see, this cockroach was a genius. On so many numerous occasions, we would sight SDC on a wall. Now, SDC was able to calculate our height, even with arms extended upwards, even when we would pick something up (baseball bats, hockey sticks, machetes, etc), and would always crawl JUST out of reach and halt, looking down at us...laughing...forever laughing. We knew it was him, for in our first encounter with SDC, we clipped him, and took off a leg and wing. That was the only time any mortal was close to snuffing out his perversion.
And those are just a few of our legendary quarries who we hunted in those happier, more simple times...
Your turn.
