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Boats and Hoes; No Mummy curse can hurt me, LMG a bitch
Topic Started: Jan 18 2017, 12:35 PM (183 Views)
Midnight Rider
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The Super Cereal
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
(Previously Gordon agreed to work for some local drug kingpins and beat up some local kids that were causing problems. As a reward Gordon got a sweet bike that he now needs to upgrade. Which leads us to a fateful trip to Finns)

Gordon was looking at putting an engine on his bike for those long hauls or short hauls where he felt like being lazy. Now Finn being the collector of all things scrap was able to produce a sorry looking device that he claimed would power his bike. It was a sad tiny thing, rusted to shit and still needed a battery and some wire cables for leads. Now, a weaker man than Gordon might have bellied up to the table took that worry excuse a paperweight motor and meekly putted around on their bike. Not Gordon though, Gordon was a man, a man that needed to do wheelies, and the only way that was happening was with a real motor. Last thing he wanted was for Timmy or any of the other kids he just beat up to one up him with their awesome bikes. That would be a humiliation Gordon could not chance happening. The way Gordon saw it; he’d be kicking up a big plume of dust doing a wheelie by Timmy getting his cast signed. That was the Gordon Stone way.

Gordon had worked for Finn before, and his usual fetch quests weren’t too difficult. It often involved going to some weird out of the way place and grabbing something he was too lazy to get himself. You might say that they were pretty easy, there wasn’t much in the way of complications whenever he went out. Often you just went into a place there were a few raiders camped out and you shot it out to see who would be taking home the epic piece of technology. This was different and it was frightening in its prospects. To get this motor Gordon was going to have to hug the coast until he hit civilization. Then he would need to find and negotiate for a working motor off a fishing boat. Now that was a serious challenge and one that Gordon certainly wasn’t sure if he was ready for. Raiders are simple, shoot them first and they die. Navigating civilization was going to be something brand new, this is the decent part of Texas not some free for all opium den they charitably call Bucket Town.

It was scary, but looking down at that dinky motor Gordon knew he couldn’t be punked by some kids. Gordon knew going into a real society was a risky challenge but if he wanted to be an alpha and pull off some wheelies that meant heading out. Sometimes you got to earn that status not just have a sweet bike that does wheelies. Agreeing to the terms with Finn, Gordon left the bus to begin his journey south. Checking his equipment Gordon carefully chose his gear. Covering a large distance would require him to use the bike, and that meant packing kind of light. There was a lid carrying case that Gordon used to hold his stuff. If he had lids they would fit amazingly in here, but seeing as he didn’t, it held his dissembled rifle and several other weapons and ammo. If civilization tried to eat him alive Gordon planned to do down swinging. Fortunately, the case was easily attached along the side of his bike seat. It was a nice black case, it didn’t draw much attention, but it was roomy enough that it carried all the tools Gordon would need if he put the items in carefully. There was a trick to packing just right, and Gordon didn’t want to forget anything.

When Gordon felt like he had finally made some progress in his preparations he checked the time. The sun was starting its slow decent into the evening. The dusty haze of the mid-day was giving way to the somber and clear evening light. It was getting to that magic hour where everything just popped with color. It made Gordon feel a bit silly for taking so much time to get ready, really he should have been on the road by now. He knew there would be no getting around having to travel at night but he still didn’t want to expose himself too much to the threat of highwaymen. Bucket town was exactly the kind of place that didn’t stop and it had affected Gordon with his late night partying and sleep till noon mentality. That’s the kind of thing that wouldn’t fly down south, or so he had heard.

If trouble did come Gordon’s way he had his revolver to keep things peaceful. He often liked to twirl it, trying to get the spin down right. Believe it or not, its actually pretty hard to spin a revolver. They’re awkward in your hands and the metal likes to cut into your fingers. As a kid Gordon remembered trickshots that did all kinds of neat moves and spins. Those were simpler times when he lived back east. There were traveling circuses and the like back there. The closest thing Gordon had seen to something like that was the Paradise Pier, but he hadn’t felt like going himself. When he was a kid the showman in those circuses had bright shinny revolvers, that shot straight and true. Gordon’s was a bit rustier than that, it was good enough up close but he’d never be a proper outlaw with a dirty piece like his. That was a Finn’s fetch quest for another day though.

Gordon wasn’t the classiest fellow, though he did make a habit of wearing his nice suit everywhere. The jacket pocket held the revolver easily enough. It allowed he quick access when the situation called for it. It wasn’t like he’d have to worry too much about trouble, he was the fastest shot he knew. Then again, that’s probably true for most people. Anyone that’s met someone better doesn’t exactly live to tell the tale. These thoughts swirled through Gordon’s head as he made his preparations. Soon he’d be headed out of here and on his way to honest country. He had heard of a few places worth checking out. There was CTE, Challichoke County and Stans Bull. There was likely an engine in one of those towns. They all had some level of boat traffic, and likely were what he wanted. The only way to find out though was to head on out and see what’s what.
Posted Image
Gordon "Stone" Hennigan, SPECIAL: 5.6.9.3.5.10.3. Level: 6 HC
Peter McCullough SPECIAL: 4, 4, 4, 10, 10, 4 , 4, Level 3 HC

THE CURSE OF THE MUMMY

The spirits have taken an interest in you for all the wrong reasons! Unexpected challenges will come to you during your RPs but the rewards doled out will be much juicier. It is possible to live with such a curse, but if you would rather live curse free, you could simply sell the corpse and wash your hands of the whole situation.

Lmgthev: MBP is handsome
LonesomeDrifter23: Sometimes I think MBP is a being made entirely of satire.
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The Super Cereal
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The ruins of Copperton began to spring closer into view, and Gordon smiled as he passed on old creek bed. Out here was the outlaw part of town where the dregs went after they got chased out of southside. On his bike the streets and filth were a bit of a blip in no time it was behind him and once again Gordon headed south. There were many choices to pick from but Challichoke was the best bet Gordon figured. It was the only working industrial town nearby. The others definitely had motors but they might be rarer there. It was a simple hunch, and probably wrong, but he had to go that way anyhow to reach Stan’s Bull. If none of these places had one, he’d just keep going south, down into the Mexican territory. Now there was a place where a man could have fun, it was chaotic and wild down there.

Looking back fondly on his home in the wasteland, Gordon turned and left the creek behind. He kept his head on a swivel, you never knew where death would appear in a place like this. In town you can count on a drunk or a bandit to grab you and kill you in an alley, in the wilds it could anything from any direction. The buildings were a labyrinth of sniper’s perches and lookout towers, as if an army could be hidden up on the second floor of some ruined Mojave Zenith motel. There wasn’t much stirring today and Gordon didn’t know if he owed that to good luck or if he was riding into a trap. You never could tell in a place like this, you just kept going and didn’t stop for anything.

Well unless the chain of your bike slips off the spoke and sends you crashing into a ditch. Gordon hadn’t traveled but a couple hours before his bike started acting up. When the chain slipped, Gordon tried kicking it back on with his leg but that just got his pants caught in the mess and sent him flying head first over the handle bars into a ditch. He coughed up dust and wiped the crud from his eyes with dusty and bloodied hands. It was minor injuries all around, the kind of rough and tumble accidents kids get into, but the scrapes still burned fierce. Gordon propped himself up on the side of the ditch as he caught he breath. He was riding hard to get out of the wailer’s territory before nightfall and this was the last thing he needed. They were becoming more of a nuisance as of late, usually only bothering folks trying to venture across the desert west. With that drying up they were expanding a bit in any direction that could offer potential food for them. They got their name from the howls they gave off when closing in on a traveler at night. Gordon didn’t want to tangle with them, they had a whole full body wolf suit going on, which was a boxcar’s worth of psychological damage Gordon didn’t want trying to rip out his throat.

Catching his breath Gordon looked out at the sweeping hills of blue bonnets and scraggly trees. It was much greener the closer you got to the coast. He was far enough south that Bucket Town was no longer visible and the hum of coastal life was starting to set in. It was the magic hour in the evening when the sun began to lessen in hue and the colors all around him popped. It also meant that he had little time to waste before nightfall. Truth be told he could have stopped right there and just watched the wind sweep through the tall grass but the threat of bandits pushed him on to try and find somewhere civilized or discrete to camp out.

Posted Image
Gordon "Stone" Hennigan, SPECIAL: 5.6.9.3.5.10.3. Level: 6 HC
Peter McCullough SPECIAL: 4, 4, 4, 10, 10, 4 , 4, Level 3 HC

THE CURSE OF THE MUMMY

The spirits have taken an interest in you for all the wrong reasons! Unexpected challenges will come to you during your RPs but the rewards doled out will be much juicier. It is possible to live with such a curse, but if you would rather live curse free, you could simply sell the corpse and wash your hands of the whole situation.

Lmgthev: MBP is handsome
LonesomeDrifter23: Sometimes I think MBP is a being made entirely of satire.
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Artificial Amateur
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Banned
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CURSE OF THE MUMY

Gordan soon found himself awoked by the sound of a roaring hog racing by his campsite. He looked up to see Shane Matimbe Blackman smiling while sitting in his sweet motorcycle.

“Hey gordan nice bike” shane said lying.

“Hey sgane whats up” gordan said back, in awe of shanes red hot hog

Shane flicked his cigarette into the wasteland dust ans stepped off of his hog. He then smashed it into the dirt with his steel toed cowboy boot for added affect.

“Nothing much Gordan, or should I say anus.” shane laughed at his joke.

“I was riding through, the federales are on my trail.” although shane was a rough and tumble vigilante in his low income neighborhood back east the mexicans didnt seem to take too kindly to him killing there drug kingpin boss. All of them were slimy and corrupt.

“Gordan i hope you dont have any plans or direction for youre current adventure, because the federales are coming this way and their mad as fuck. Theyll kill any gringo cracka in theyre way. That means you.”

Shan rubbed his large imposing mustache in contemplation. “Sorry i cant help you out kid I know i have mentored you all these years but this is a battle you must fight alone.”

Shane then grabbed whatever food gordan had lying around and ate it. “You know what they say. You cant teach a old road dog new tricks. See you.” they both laughed at shanes joke as he revved up his motorcycles engine and spun dirt and gravel all over gordan’s campsite, driving off into the night and on to his new adventure.

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Shane left Gordon’s campsite in a plume of exhaust and small rocks kicked up. Boy it was just so cool seeing Shane again, but classic Shane was in trouble with the law again. It was so hard for an upright urban youth to avoid police harassment. This was a man trying to make Mexico right and free it from the oppression of the cartel gangs. It took Gordon back to the mentoring he had with Shane, all those years ago. Those were crazy hot cantina nights with the tequilla flowing and Shane waxing on about social justice. Shane and Gordon got up to some crazy hijinks those nights, but now it was years later and once again this craziness was being visited on Gordon. He was an escaped felon and didn’t like his chances at trying peace with the federales. That meant moving at night which was a dangerous prospect to say the least, but staying put was worse.

Hopping back up on his bike, Gordon tore off through the underbrush after Shane. He had no idea where anyone was or even what direction he was going in, but Shane was probably heading to an escape. The federales would be trying to box in the area and get all the criminals cornered. It was classic herd predator behavior and it worked remarkably well with humans. The trick of course is getting set up before your prey slips the trap. Shane was riding that motorcycle hard, so Gordon would have to follow suit. Taking off at full speed, unable to see much in the dark Gordon kept going by touch, keeping his tires on the smooth road. It was a hell of a blind way to travel but it was working thusfar.

In the distance Gordon heard the howls of the wailers, they had apparently found someone. If they were in this trap too then it was going to be a bloody haul for the federales. Of course, that’s saying they brought the manpower to deal with them. With a renewed vigor Gordon pressed harder on his peddles to try and get some distance going. The screams of the innocent were getting closer to Gordon as the night wore on. He heard their pleas for mercy bounce off the hills, the distortion made it all the ominous. The wailers were traveling his way as well, maybe they knew about the Mexicans moving in to clean house. It was just a convergence of shit all coming together in a great shitsunami, just like that bloody caravaner that stumbled right in front of Gordon… wait.

With a great crash Gordon hit the poor caravaner, knocking the wind out of both parties and sending Gordon flying over his handlebars for the second time in a day. He didn’t have time to feel bad for himself and care to minor boo boos, the wailers had to be right on top of him. That meant a shitflood was bearing right down on him. Gordon got up and hobbled to the bike, setting it back up.

The caravaner coughed as he regained his senses calling, “Help me.”

“Ain’t got time for you,” Gordon replied with remorse.

“I can help you escape,” the caravaner offered, “There’s a smugglers marina with a boat. If we hurry we can flee out into the ocean and avoid these federales.”

That made Gordon stop what he was doing. A boat meant safety and not having to slog all the way down to Stan’s Bull possibly. How knew where he was in relation to all that at the moment though. He could be a stone’s throw from the border town and not even know it. Putting up the kickstand Gordon went over to the trader to get him up on the bike. This was going to be hard going for two people, especially one that looked ready to lose consciousness. The man’s insides were all torn up by the metal claws, and he was bleeding heavily.

“Hey stay there with me,” Gordon said slapping his face lightly. “Where are we going to get this boat.”

“There’s a small coastal town a few miles south of here,” the trader replied weakly. “its abandoned except for a smuggler ring down at the docks. It easy enough to get to but its important that you…”

The conversation was interrupted by a hairy man tackling Gordon in a fur suit. There were multiple wailers for all Gordon could see. The bastard on top of him was trying like hell to sink his metal claws in Gordon’s stomach. All of Gordon’s weapons were in his lid case, leaving him completely unarmed right now. Thinking fast Gordon decided to go primal himself. Gordon’s hands were busy keeping the claws out of his guts, ribbons of blood formed as the metal dug into his fingers. Unable to punch, Gordon started to headbutt the man on top of him. Bashing his forehead over and over at whatever was in front on him. The wailer ducked to avoid the blows and Gordon hit shoulder, dazing him but knocking the wailer up a bit.

With the wailer knocked off balance a bit Gordon started scrambling wildly to his feet. He had no defenses in his panic and took a few scrapes from the claws of his attacker in the escape. A few feet away he got back up on his feet and started to set up an attack stance as the manbeast began circling him on all fours. It was probably meant to be wolflike but it came off apish instead. The clack clack of the beast’s metal claws on the rocks gave menace to the chorus of heavy breathing from both men. The other wailers were feasting on the caravaner and watching the duel in amusement. They had clearly won and this was a bit of dinner theater.

Gordon eyed his opponent circling, he wasn’t Shane Blackman sure, but this beast was getting canned. He started to get mad at this wolf thing, Gordon spit and started to punch himself to get the blood flowing. This was stupid berserk rage time if he was going to get a win here. Maybe this beast was expecting Gordon to attack, or maybe he wasn’t. He probably wasn’t expecting retard monkey tactics, which is what Gordon came at the wailer with. Screaming Gordon threw himself on top of the man knocking him flat on his back. The wolfman was confused by the abruptness of the push and Gordon kept up with the momentum. Chimp tactics in play Gordon buried his fingers into the beastman’s eyesockets. He howled in pain as Gordon ripped them out like a pair of grapes. The beast swung wildly at Gordon taking a chunk of his side and forearm with his claws.

This caused Gordon to back off in pain, the creature was blind but still deadly. Gordon couldn’t trade blows with a beast that had metal claws. Gordon felt the blood pouring out in tiny rivulets, it felt slightly warm until a breeze hit him and it turned ice cold. Blinded and pissed the wailer starting swinging wildly at Gordon and shambled towards him. The stumbling and screaming was quite a bit of good fun for the wailers watching that got a chuckle out of their friends situation. Gordon needed to end this though and get out of the area. Almost taking pity on the poor lad Gordon tripped him with a quick side step and sent flying onto the ground. Before the man could get back up, Gordon jumped on his back and started bashing his head into the ground. Several times Gordon slammed him down until he lost consciousness and blood started to flow on the ground around his wolf mask. Confident that Gordon won he sat up and yelled in victory. It was a briefly lived one though as a quick blow to the back of his head sent Gordon off into a sea of blackness.
Posted Image
Gordon "Stone" Hennigan, SPECIAL: 5.6.9.3.5.10.3. Level: 6 HC
Peter McCullough SPECIAL: 4, 4, 4, 10, 10, 4 , 4, Level 3 HC

THE CURSE OF THE MUMMY

The spirits have taken an interest in you for all the wrong reasons! Unexpected challenges will come to you during your RPs but the rewards doled out will be much juicier. It is possible to live with such a curse, but if you would rather live curse free, you could simply sell the corpse and wash your hands of the whole situation.

Lmgthev: MBP is handsome
LonesomeDrifter23: Sometimes I think MBP is a being made entirely of satire.
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LMGVagabond
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Crispy, Creamy, and Quite Dreamy
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
CURSE OF THE MUMMY

Gordon finally awakens, but he immediately realizes something is wrong. The hustle and bustle of Bucket Town fills his ears, but with a strange twist.

“Haha, I love LMFAO’s new song!”

“No way, rising star Lady Gaga’s new hit single is sweeping the airwaves!”

“Shut up guys, President Obama finally got Bin Laden!”

Oh no. He was in the year 2011. Gordon could hardly believe it as he gazed upon the sea of citizens flooding the streets. Roy planked in all his glory on top of a market stall and Jesse Winters dropped to one knee, Tebowing for all to see. Worst of all, in the distance he heard a melody he had not been in the presence of for years.

[YOUTUBE]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=514FFvG0SKA[/YOUTUBE]

It was the themesong of Benny Smalls, his ex-friend. It was too late when he saw those dopey eyes light up at the sight of him. Benny began to Naruto-run towards Gordon, slobbering all over himself.

“Hi Amos, it’s me, your friend Benny herpity herp de durr. Let’s go on an adventure together durr durr.”

It was clear that Gordon had to escape the year 2011 if he was going to upgrade his bike.
Luis d'Duret
6.3.5.9.7.3.7
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PLEASE UNMOD ME ;( ;(
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Well this was a horrid turn of events. Expecting to wake up in some weird witch doctor hut or something instead Gordon found himself in the middle of Obama’s America. This was like some kind of weird purgatory where everything was at a standstill and Benny Smalls was here. Really Gordon was probably in purgatory right now but when life sends you into a possible between life and death state you just roll with it. If Gordon was here he needed to escape back to the future where he was from. He was wasteland trash he couldn’t survive on the streets of Athens. How the fuck was he going to get out of here though? Gordon could try to look inwards for the answer and seek inner peace in what possibly could be his final moments. There could be a nice visit with a priest and a series of good deeds one for the betterment of man. Or he could seek the answer in science and rip and roar to get out like a wounded animal in a trap.

“Where the fuck are the science videos around here,” Gordon asked Benny?

“I usually rent movies from the library across the street there,” Benny said. “You can pay in applesauce and they allow fanny packs inside.”

“TO THE LIBRARY!” Gordon proclaimed as they went off in search of enlightenment.

The library was a deserted affair, home to more perverts and homeless people needing the computers for pretty much the same reasons. It was a boring white painted building with far too much wood accents. The overall eerie quiet of the room made the place seem crypt like, but it wouldn’t stop our hero. Gordon was on a mission to find out information about time travel, but books were for nerds. Ain’t nobody got time to read around here, he was after a movie that would explain everything. A theory on time travel by Steven Hawking was missing though, and the copy of Back to the Future was checked out. However, the library did have a surprising number of videos from the Black to the Future franchise. This would have the answers Gordon was looking for as Martin McSuperfly traveled back and forth from all kinds of different time periods. If he could do it with Nazi jive turkeys and klansmen after him surely Gordon could too.

“Alright,” Gordon announced after consulting the video library records. “We have 12 movies to watch to figure out a way back to the wasteland. So get some popcorn and we’ll grab a computer here.”

As Benny left to go get popcorn Gordon noticed a problem with his little plan, there were no free tvs. All of them were currently being used by masturbating homeless people, which frustrated Gordon to no end. Why didn’t they watch these documentaries on their own TVs you know, don’t bring that mess here. Fortunately, there was a TV that was relatively stain free and had a large homeless man just starting to get to the good part on a National Geographic bushman documentary. Before his hands could go down his pants Gordon was ready to fight.

“Hey buddy you’ve had enough, we’re cutting you off,” Gordon said commandingly.

The man turned to look a Gordon with a glare that could have spoiled milk on the spot. He was a large angry man with a scar running down his face. It was much more impressive and gruesome injury than Gordon had which made his self-conscious but he ignored the doubts and pushed on. If this was going to be a tussle then let Gordon strike the first blow.

“I said you’re done,” Gordon yelled and slammed the man backwards by grabbing his ponytail.

There was a chorus of shushes by the onlookers as Gordon and the hobo squared off for a library fight. The bum was faster than Gordon liked landing two blows on his face. Gordon realized that this would require his A game and he started ducking and weaving the vagrants drunken flailing. Grabbing a nearby tome by Jane Austin Gordon went Pride and Prejudice up the side of this guy’s face. Hitting the ground again the bum found a Salinger paperback and made Gordon Catcher in the Rye. Taking a classic to the balls took Gordon down but not out. Grabbing a Faulkner short story collection Gordon gave the man a Rose for Miss Emily, by which I mean he broke his nose. That was enough to dissuade the bum from watching porn today and Gordon was the champion of the good tv spot.

A were 24 hours later of straight movie watching Gordon knew what he had to do to get Benny and himself back home. They needed to get a 75 Cadillac Eldorado and put plutonium in the fuel tank like their hero Martin. Where could you find plutonium and a car that ancient though? That would require some kind of failed state with access to nukes. You only saw that in Eastern Europe and central Asia though. How would they get there and who would know the lay of the land enough to help them?

"Zer iz a misunderstands I was juzt doing rezearch yu fools,” a weird voice screamed as he was being dragged out by library security. He was an impressive looking man, lean and Aryan in his appearance with blond hair and blue eyes. The chubbie shorts were a clear indicator that this was a man of means that could help them.

“I vant to kill you fuckers,” he continued. “You knows who I am? Ze name's Dr. Maximilian Rodrigo Gersten the Seventh, suave playboy doctor and friend of all ze children.”

“Wait,” Gordon shouted before he was hauled off for good. “We need this man’s help, you can’t drag him away like that.”
Posted Image
Gordon "Stone" Hennigan, SPECIAL: 5.6.9.3.5.10.3. Level: 6 HC
Peter McCullough SPECIAL: 4, 4, 4, 10, 10, 4 , 4, Level 3 HC

THE CURSE OF THE MUMMY

The spirits have taken an interest in you for all the wrong reasons! Unexpected challenges will come to you during your RPs but the rewards doled out will be much juicier. It is possible to live with such a curse, but if you would rather live curse free, you could simply sell the corpse and wash your hands of the whole situation.

Lmgthev: MBP is handsome
LonesomeDrifter23: Sometimes I think MBP is a being made entirely of satire.
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LMGVagabond
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Crispy, Creamy, and Quite Dreamy
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
CURSE OF THE MUMMY[\b]

“You’re right about zat, star of ze upcoming film Season of ze Witch!” Max then turned to the librarian and spit a mist of green acid in her face like Tajiri. Screaming, the woman let go of him as he bolted for the exit. “Follow me!” he screeched at Gordon and Benny.

They raced down Athen’s scenic mainstreet and ducked into an alleyway. “I have some connections in town you see,” Max said, opening the door of an adjacent storage unit. What they saw inside will shock you.

“Scott Bakula! Dur dur!” Benny screamed, slinging applesauce everywhere.

“It’s true, it’s me, Scott Bakula.” Scott Bakula said. “Thanks Max, you my homie.”

Scott Bakula then turned to Gordon. “I know you are stuck in the year 2011, Gordon. I can help you get out. Everyone join hands.”

Scott Bakula and Max grabbed Benny’s applesauce-covered hands, and Max linked with Gordon. “I will now say the sacred words,” Uttered Mr. Bakula. “Bakula, Bakula, put us back on the right trackula.”

At that, the world began to shake and the walls crumbled. “Everyone! Let go of each other's hands!” Gordon unclasped with ease, but Scott and Max were having difficulty.

“It’s ze fucking applesauce! My hand is stuck!”

“Damn you Benny Smalls! You have doomed us!” Bakula cried.

“Oopsies” Benny muttered, about to cry because everyone was yelling at him. Their three cries of agony merged together into a terrible chorus of pain as they were stretched and folded into the fabric of the multiverse. Gordon was sucked into a wormhole, flying at lightning fast speeds and immersed in colors he had never seen before. His flight was short lived however, when he phased into existence in a new, unfamiliar world.

He looked about, not knowing where he was.

“You are in Zone 3-A261 of the 11th Dimension.” Beeped Scott Bakula’s handy scanning device. But there was no Scott Bakula. Gordon followed the source of the noise when he found it, what it was will shock you.

“Gordon, ve are now vone. Hurpity depity dee.” The congealed mass had the faces of Scott Bakula, Max Gersten,and Benny Smalls in a horrid frame of flesh and applesauce. “Ve merged zogether durr durr. Call us Max A. Smakula.”

Gordon wondered if the A stood for Applesauce.

“Yes ze A stands for Applesauce.”
Luis d'Duret
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So here Gordon was, he didn't understand a God damn thing that just happened and this whole tale seemed to be going off the rails at an astounding rate. The theory that Gordon is in a coma this whole time seemed likelier and likelier by the moment. However, its a scary as hell thought that Gordon might be getting turned off so instead he tried to take in what he was seeing. He didn't know it but Gordon was at the source of the universe, where all the matter strings go out. His brain couldn't comprehend what was being shown, no human could. It all just looked various shades of pink because that's what the brain does when it can't comprehend something. So he Gordon was in this neon pink dimension ready to find a way out.

Gordon grabbed the Backula ☕☕☕☕, a device so multidimensional it defied normal numerical naming conventions. The scanner showed that he was at some kind of nexus gateway to all kinds of different dimensions. This placed served as a train station of sorts ferrying matter back and forth as it was needed. He needed to get out of here before the overwhelming nature of what he was taking in drew him insane. We also needed to unfuse the applesauce hybrid that was congealing infront of him. There had to be some kind of way to put all this right.

"So ideas?" Gordon asked the three men and an applesauce baby.

"Ze keys iz zto zay zhe magicz wordz againz," the mass of people said. "Zhall we give it anozther zo?"

"Alright lets do it," Gordon said leery of holding hands with this crime against humanity.

"“Bzakula, Bzakula, put uz back on zhe zight trazckula," they chanted together.

With a whir they were off to their home. Their were no walls to crumble this time and Gordon detached easily, knife ready for the slightest complication. The fabric of reality folded again as the gang went out into the unknown once again. Gordon was given the rare chance to peak behind the curtain of reality and will haunt him until his death. Just when it seemed like the light show and colors would give Gordon a seizure and trap him forever he was spit out into the wasteland again.

Gordon looked around but he was alone, the hideous applesauce monster gone. It looked like Texas and it was bombed to shit like it was the world he came from. The town he was in was big though, a bustling wasteland metropolis. Gordon wasn't about to complain about being put somewhere cool. The only thing is, where were the bustling people? It was noon from the look of the sun where was all the lunch folks. Gordon started wandering around to get an answer, but it was a ghost town. It was confusing until he saw a sign that said, "Welcome to New Blacula, Honkies shot on sight."

Holy fuck that couldn't be right. Gordon pulled out the Backula ☕☕☕☕ to see what it said. Sure enough it had Gordon in Zone 5-E672 of the Blacula Dimension. Damn that Max's Austrian accent it must have thrown off the dimensional hop. Now here Gordon was all alone in hostile territory, he needed to escape before sundown. No way these jive turkey blaculas were going to turn him, but he needed to find this dimension's Scott Bacula, who would be a blacula. As Gordon contemplated this a hole in space time opened before him oozing applesauce. Before Gordon's mind could break from the sight of this out popped a single man. It was Benny, not fused with Scott Bacula or an Austrian playboy.

"TAKE HIM, WE DON'T WANT HIM," a booming voice from the other side of the wormhole shouted.
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Gordon "Stone" Hennigan, SPECIAL: 5.6.9.3.5.10.3. Level: 6 HC
Peter McCullough SPECIAL: 4, 4, 4, 10, 10, 4 , 4, Level 3 HC

THE CURSE OF THE MUMMY

The spirits have taken an interest in you for all the wrong reasons! Unexpected challenges will come to you during your RPs but the rewards doled out will be much juicier. It is possible to live with such a curse, but if you would rather live curse free, you could simply sell the corpse and wash your hands of the whole situation.

Lmgthev: MBP is handsome
LonesomeDrifter23: Sometimes I think MBP is a being made entirely of satire.
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Khaleesi sat on the porch steps of an abandoned two-story house in Bay City, Texas. It was a warm day, but the ocean breeze cooled you down before the sun got unbearable. With one hand on the lid of a malt liquor bottle, Khal slammed the bottle down on the edge of a step to pop it open. The cap shot up in the air and Khal jerked her arm to grab it as she used her other arm to tilt back the liquor. She smacked her lips around several times to preserve the taste. Malt liquor tasted like piss in her opinion, but it reminded her of many fond memories. The wind was caressing her face and provided a salty smell that was rather pleasant. She kicked her boots off and began dozing off. Before her head could fall back, she was spooked by an unfamiliar voice.

“Hey lady, want to come to my birthday party?”

Her body twitched as if she had a jolt of electricity run through it. She sat up and straight and was alert towards the stranger. A small dark-skinned boy stood at the bottom of the steps looking at her. He was wearing an orange striped shirt that was two sizes too big for him, dirty cargo shorts, and a pair of scuffed up red sneakers. His face showed that he has been exposed to radiation for some time, though he did not look older than 12. He seemed surprised at Khaleesi’s violent awakening, and a look of regret was present on his face. Before he could walk away, Khaleesi answered his question.

“Party? Yeah, sure. I love parties. Especially ones with games and cake.” Khaleesi became childlike and was filled with excitement, though the strange boy scared her moments ago.

The boy looked to the ground and sharply inhaled air through his nostrils. “Umm, great,” the boy sounded unenthused, “It’s over at the two domes over there. Just a heads up, there will be a lot of ghouls there.”

Khaleesi tilted her head towards the side the boy was pointing towards. The domes were close to the ocean front and about a ten minute walk from her current location. “Great, I’ll see you there!”

The boy headed to the party as Khaleesi stayed on the porch. She was going to have to find a present for this kid, but she had nothing to give to him. She decided to scavenge the house she was at to see if anything was good enough. In the kitchen, she found a liter some homemade liquor that somehow got left behind. Well it is a party, and what’s a party without booze? Khal continued to tear the place up looking for gift. When she got up upstairs, a worn in baseball cap laid on top of a broken dresser. It was impossible to tell what the original colors were as the sun bleached it to a cloudy grey color. The cap had a letter “C” that was stitched back on multiple times. Besides a few minor holes and some mysterious stains, the hat was in decent shape. Now that she had a gift, it was time to party.

It did not take long to find the spot as Khal followed the trail of music being played. The kid was right, there were a lot of ghouls present. In fact, Khal seemed to be the only human around. Some ghouls were beating on old chemical barrels as others tapped on beakers and pvc pipes. The whole party stopped what they were doing and stared at the green hair woman. Khal’s eyes shot around as she started to panic. The ghouls weren’t giving her a threatening glare, but it wasn’t welcoming either. Unsure of what to do, she raised the liquor she found that was stored in an old gas canister and exclaimed, “I brought some hooch!”

The silence lasted for a second before the crowd cheered. The music continued, and ghouls rushed over to meet Khaleesi. She was bombarded with questions and ghouls speaking over each other. It felt like it took forever to satisfy all of them, but eventually they all left her to enjoy the party. Khal scanned around looking for the boy from before but was having difficulty. Everyone was chatting and having a good time except for one particular grey ghoul. He leaned on the edge of the wall and was silently observing the scene. What little hair he had left on his head was in a ponytail, and he had a menacing gaze. He wore a charcoal grey shirt that exposed some of his stomach, black jeans, a leather vest that was the color of red wine, and a pair of cowboy boots. His spiked bracelet turned slightly around his wrist as he pulled the toothpick from his mouth knowing that Khaleesi was going to walk over. She was in awe at how badass this ghoul looked. As much as she would like to admire his poise, she had to find the boy.

“Hi, have you seen the kid, you know the one whose birthday is today and is like wearing an orange shirt and all?”

His lip twitched slightly before he spoke to Khal in a calm voice. “Maybe I do. What’s it to you?”

Khaleesi showed him the hat and told him that she brought a gift. He examined her up and down until his eyes were glued on her gun. He showed a quick smirk and demanded the weapon in exchange for info on the kid. Khal rolled her head back and slumped her shoulders. She couldn’t believe he was proposing this trade. She grabbed the gun from her side and handed it to him. His hand was a blur as he snatched it from her grasp.

“I know nothing, I lied.”

The ghoul waddled away as Khaleesi let her jaw hang open in confusion. “Ricardo Espagnol.” She cocked her head back to see a ghoul had crept up behind her and whispered in her ear. The Ricardo issue was going to have to be resolved at another time as she was here to party and drink. She grimaced at the whispering ghoul and wandered over toward the buffet table. Ghouls were lined up with paper plates scooping up plentiful amounts of the food, but Khal lost her appetite as soon as she noticed the slight glow radiating from the dishes.

Eventually she found her way over at the table that was covered in various types of liquor. She grabbed a cup from the pile and poured from various bottles to create a powerful blend. Other children ran around screaming in laughter as they played with plastic guns that fired water at one another as she sipped her bitter drink. One of the kids ran right into her, causing her cup to fly out of her hands and spill on the ground. A splash landed on her suit, and it pissed her off. She chased after the giggling bunch before a ghoul blocked her path.

“Hey, move! That brat over there messed up my threads!” The ghoul snarled at her. He moved whenever Khaleesi tried to sneak by him to prevent her from getting by. She began growling back at him and slurred insults left to right. “Is a fist sandwich what you crave?” She gave up going after the kid and stood face to face with the ghoul. She inched closer to his faces and inquired, “are you going to move, or am I going to have to beat you in front of the lil brat over there?”

The ghoul pounced on Khal and pinned her down and dove into her neck. He bit down firmly into her flesh and blood gushed out. She screamed in agony as the ghouls circled around the scene. “What are you, a vampire,” she gasped prior to an even more painful bite. She flailed around before a shot rang off in the distance. The biting ghoul rolled off of her and the whispering ghoul from earlier repeated the name Ricardo Espagnol.

Khal could feel her energy drain as she bled out on the ground. A small amount of blood reached to the tips of her hair, making them appear slightly brown. She winced in pain as her hand was clamped down on her wound. The birthday boy walked up to her and gave her a pitiful gaze. She reached for the cap that now had some of her blood on it and handed it to him. The boy put it on but didn’t appear any happier. Just as the boy opened his mouth, Khaleesi was enveloped in darkness.

"I got bit by a radioactive black man," she murmured.
Khaleesi Latifah Level 1
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(Oh I bet you were hoping this was dead, nope its just Chuck Testa)

Gordon took a moment to breath everything in, this was a twisted dimension were supernatural beings had taken over humanity. It didn’t seem so bad though, life was carrying on like normal. Even though no one was out right now, the streets were paved and there were several storefronts open. Maybe Van Helsing was wrong to fight off the vampire menace, they seemed to be recovering from a nuclear apocalypse far better. In the distance there was even the feint sound of birds chirping happily, not being eaten by desperate junkies.

As Gordon was taking in the sights, the Backula ☕☕☕☕ started giving off a series of beeps and flashing lights. Being the intrepid scientist, Gordon whacked the device hard to get it to shutup. The first whack didn’t get the job done, so a few more had to be applied to really get the message to sink in. The Backula ☕☕☕☕ settled down and popped open a flap with a video screen. With a high pitched whine the screen came to life and showed an image of Scott Bacula and Max Gersten in some snow. It was a complete 180 from where Gordon was right now, there were trees and skiers and nothing but WASPy white people as far as the eye can see.

“Glad to see you weren’t ripped apart by inter-dimensional forces,” Scott Bacula half joked. “We can still all get back home, but a rift in the league of Scott Baculas has thrown off our dimensional hopping ability. From what I can gather, in both of our dimensions the resident Scott Bacula guardian is in trouble and needs help. We have to right the wrongs of each dimension to resume normal gateway travel. You must locate and rescue Scott Bacula the Blacula, just as we must help Scott Bacula the snowboarder. Don’t worry though the Backula ☕☕☕☕ can help you blend in, if you push the yellow button it will let you blend in with the locals. You’ll look just like yourself from that deminsion.”

“So does that mean there’s an actual Gordon Stone Blacula running around?” Gordon asked, suddenly interested in the conversion now that it was about him again.

“Actually given the way multidimensional space works, there are an infinite number of Gordon Stone Blaculas out there,” Scott Bacula mused. “No time for that though, if you want to get home you have to save your Scott Bacula before another falls victim and we spend an eternity in the multiverse.”

The screen blacked out after those words and the Bacula transmission was finished. Looking the device over, Gordon found the yellow button and pressed it. The Backula ☕☕☕☕ started shaking violently and send off a bunch of random lights. It was over after a few seconds, but it was an intense light show. When it was all said and done, Gordon could hardly believe it. He looked just like a Blacula, with the high waisted pants, cape and the Backula ☕☕☕☕ was now a pimp cane. Gordon Stone was styling now with a lavish black pimp get out and afro. It was time now to find out what was going on with Scott Bacula the Blacula and settle some wrongs on the streets.

As Gordon was getting ready to leave with Benny there was another violent flash. It seemed that the plot wasn’t done catching up with Gordon Stone and Kahlesi Latifa, his wrestling manager, spilled forth from a dimensional tear. It seemed that she had been drawn into a Blacula vortex as well. Now she looked like the Daughter of Black Belt Jones and TNT Jackson. This was certainly going to be an interesting journey with Kahlesi along for the journey. Gordon wasn’t saying that Benny was completely useless, at least not to his face, but it was good to have a competent accomplice for the crimes they were about to commit.

Police sirens interrupted the impromptu reunion, as two mixed race cops stepped out of a police cruiser. They were both mean looking with billy clubs in hand, ready to crack skulls at a moments notice. The fascists were dressed in plain clothes, and I mean plain. They were wearing brown tweed suits and manila shirts, and the truly miraculous thing is that the clothing didn’t try to hang itself out of boredom.

“Alright you know the rules,” the cop commanded. “By order of acting Mayor Black Whitney, there is a strict curfew. No one is allowed to be out before 8:00 pm and that includes you Gordon Stone.”

Gordon looked at these officers in contempt. There was no way that he was going to let them tell him what to do. You didn’t come into the house of Gordon Stone and push him around. Never mind that they were on a street, it was the principle of the matter. Then Gordon felt a strong urge to do some kind of proto rap poetry slam thing, like his Blacula self was taking over for a moment. Lyrics started pouring into his head but it wasn’t quite as developed and polished like rap he knew, it was a more primative ancestor from back before it took off as a musical movement.

“You go tell Black Whitney
That I will show him no pity
This town will never be the same
now that I’m back with this here pimp cane
He can try to run and hide
but his rule I will not abide,
All this evil that’s come to pass
is going to end with my foot up his ass,
But first I’m going to whoop your asses so fine
you’ll wish your ancestors stayed south of the color line.”

Gordon was somewhat amazed that he was able to improv that, and that it kinda worked. The cops weren’t impressed though and it was game time. The two officers spread out to deal with the triple threat of Gordon, Benny, and Kahlesi. Gordon sprang into action with his crack kungfu moves, that his Blacula self knew. He was going on instinct, and he didn’t have a definitive fighting style, he just sort of chopped and kicked in a vaguely Asian manner.

While Gordon was keeping one of the cops busy, the other took his club to Benny and that boy went down like a pile of applesauce. The only thing saving him from a full Rodney King was Kahlesi jumping into the fray. Gordon couldn’t spend too much time focusing on her awesome moves as the cop was starting to push Gordon again.

The policeman made wild ninja moves with his billy club like he was a trained shoalin monk. That’s to say he moved the club really fast and put it under his arm like they do in the kung fu movies. No one really knew an actual style, but it looked like they did. The cop was ferociously attacking with his club, when Gordon sprung into action. In true vague Asian fighting he did a one two, blocking the cop’s club arm and then socking him in the face with the other arm. That made the pig disoriented, allowing for Gordon to do a spin kick. Time seemed to slow down as Gordon performed the kick, it connected somewhere on the cop’s face sending him flying.

Looking over Gordon saw that Kahlesi had finished her opponent off as well. It seemed like there weren’t any more roadblocks but then a sharp whistle rang out. Gordon looked over and saw a couple of stylish henchmen leaning out of a Pontiac. The driver was holding a pimp cane up for Gordon to see. Immediately looking down, Gordon saw that his cane was indeed missing. These cowards likely took it in the fight.

“You think you can fuck with Black Whitney,” the man called out. “He’ll be waited for you with your cane in Pasadena, if you have the balls to face him.”

The Pontiac sped off in a cloud of dust, leaving Gordon Stone and crew pondering what to do next. This fight had just gotten started it seemed. Gordon really hoped Scott Bacula was in Pasadena as well, it was implied but he really didn't feel like two road trips if it wasn't the case.
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Gordon "Stone" Hennigan, SPECIAL: 5.6.9.3.5.10.3. Level: 6 HC
Peter McCullough SPECIAL: 4, 4, 4, 10, 10, 4 , 4, Level 3 HC

THE CURSE OF THE MUMMY

The spirits have taken an interest in you for all the wrong reasons! Unexpected challenges will come to you during your RPs but the rewards doled out will be much juicier. It is possible to live with such a curse, but if you would rather live curse free, you could simply sell the corpse and wash your hands of the whole situation.

Lmgthev: MBP is handsome
LonesomeDrifter23: Sometimes I think MBP is a being made entirely of satire.
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Khaleesi pounced on the ground of a dimension that wasn’t her own. A familiar looking man was nearby, but Khaleesi couldn’t quite pinpoint where she knew him. Before she could truly absorb her surroundings, red and blue flashing lights blinded her.

““Alright you know the rules,” the cop commanded. “By order of acting Mayor Black Whitney, there is a strict curfew. No one is allowed to be out before 8:00 pm and that includes you Gordon Stone.”

“Gordon,” she whispered to herself, “that muthafucka over there is Gordon?” A jolt ran through her body and she covered her mouth as she heard the words that oozed from her lips. The voice was sure hers but not the lingo. It was as if the words she thought about were being translated by her mouth. Was this an effect of the dimension? She caught a glimpse of herself in a storefront window and understood why she didn’t recognize Gordon at first. Her hair was no longer green, but a soft brown that was buzzed cut. Her skin no longer looked sickly, but rather full of melanin with a healthy glow. Large golden hoops hanged from her ears as it complimented the short bright green halter top she wore and bell bottom jeans. She looked more muscular than usual and extra stylish with the cropped cream fur jacket that hanged from her shoulders. As much as she wanted to check herself out, cops surrounded her, Gordon, and someone she assumed is a friend of Gordon’s. It hadn’t even been five minutes since she’s been in this new area, but Gordon already was starting a fight. This was nothing new for her, but drunk fans and crazy groupies are a lot different from cops.

A baton flew by inches from Khaleesi’s face as the cop in front of her stood in a strange stance. It looked like the whole police squad just finished a martial arts movie marathon and were trying to mimic what they saw. In their minds, they probably thought they looked as intimidating as IP Man. In reality, they were as intimidating as Rob Schneider’s character in Surf Ninjas. The officers broke up Khal, Gordon, and that one guy into separate small circles. Khaleesi crept around trying to focus on the men around her and not the wild moves Gordon was laying down.

Her body began to move on its own and sooner than you know it, she was dishing out blows and insults to the officers. “I know they call you all pigs, but goddamn that doesn’t mean y’all need to smell like them.” She elbowed an officer that attempted to grab her as another charged towards her with a billy bat ready to swing. She ducked swiftly and jutted out her wedge sandal into his family jewels. As he was clutching his balls, he let out a squeal that sounded fairly normal compared to the strange guttural noises the cops made with their movements. One by one, she decked them out. Heck, she even clawed one’s eye out without realizing it. Eventually, it was just Gordon and her left standing. She sucked the cold air into her lungs as a voice from a Pontiac pierced through her ears.

“You think you can fuck with Black Whitney,” the man called out. “He’ll be waited for you with your cane in Pasadena, if you have the balls to face him.”

Khaleesi never heard of Black Whitney, but she recognized the cold expression on Gordon’s face. It reminded her of the time the Federation refused to allow Gordon to ride into the ring on a tiger because they didn’t want to be held responsible for any possible injuries. The best they could do was offer to put Max in a tiger onesie and buy a saddle to strap to his back.
Even though taking a police car would’ve been the easiest way to Pasadena, it also would have been highly suspicious. Leaving Gordon a moment to sulk, Khal pockets a nearby officer’s wallet and heads towards a payphone. Once again her body was moving to its own device as her fingers dialed up a number. A man’s voice spoke into the phone, “Hello? Who is this?”

“King, it’s me,” Khaleesi sighed, “Someone stole Stone’s cane and now we gotta go to Pasadena. Can you send up a brotha with a ride?”

“Sure, sure. Anything for the Boss. Tell him Cyclone Nellie says hi and also that she’s been working over at Marino’s place. Man what does he see in that girl? I mean I know she’s a great dancer, but I don’t know why she has to work at other clubs than this one. Now she wouldn’t be treating Ston-“

Khal rolled her eyes as she cut King off, “Yeah King, I’ll deliver the news. Alright, thanks.” The only thing King could do better than talk was drag, and damn did he make a mighty fine woman during karaoke night at the club. Khaleesi shook her head as she didn’t understand why she knew that fact. She approached Gordon and pulled out a joint from her fur jacket. It wasn’t long before an orange Mitsubishi Eclipse pulled up to the curb. Beau, one of King’s toughest and coolest cat, motioned to get in the car. Khal could see the upset look on Gordon’s face. “Boy, do you not want your cane back? Sure the car is a little queer, but you can sit up front, ya dig?” Gordon sat in the front as strange synthesizer music blared in the car. Khal sat in the back with a wispy white man that looked giddy.

“Oh boy, more chocolate for me to enjoy.” He giggled as he sucked on the rainbow penis lollipop he held in his hand. “Name’s Double-ewe Jayyyy.”

“Hey man, I’m sorry. I can’t turn this shit off.” Beau said as he gestured to the car’s radio. “I’ve pressed every button and nothing. I asked him how to turn it off, but all he’s told me is he hopes the curtain matches the drapes.” Beau rubbed his smooth bald head as the man in the back giggled.

“Goddamn, this ride is going to take longer than Gordon’s shits.” Khal huffed. Before Gordon could make a wise ass remark back to her, the penis loving man squealed as a new song played on the radio.

“Oh my fucking god that I don’t believe in because I like dicks in my ass more than any of his priests, THIS. IS. MY. JAM.” He began wiggling in his seat as everyone else groaned. Khaleesi kicked Beau’s car and the car finally began to move. This was going to be a helluva trip.

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