You revived [i]this[/i], of all things?

[quote][b]Posted by:[/b] cortana 5 Um, you okay? I mean, old ladies, scrolls, and peas are awesome and all, but wtf?[/quote] That's what I got out of it

but but but.... cheese toast!

"To make a long story short, I tried to make this story as short as possible." That would be a great ending...*hint hint* [Edited on 05.19.2008 8:26 AM PDT]

Lulz ^^^

[quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Reykjavik I wonder if this thread will ever die. Has anyone come up with a satisfactory ending to this story?[/quote] "To make a long story short, I got ran over by a truck and died. THE END"

I wonder if this thread will ever die. Has anyone come up with a satisfactory ending to this story?

Very Happy Face :D

Lol. First off, I didn't read all that mess. And second, despite your nonsensical and monotonous story, it still made me laugh. And this is directed at Halifax. [Edited on 05.10.2008 11:50 PM PDT]

Stop. Please, just stop Halifax. It hurts.

To make a long story short, after the first twist, a puff of gas--much like the puff of gas delivered by the bottle of nail polish I found in the porcelain doll--shot from the box, dropping me into a deep and pleasantly dreamless sleep. Once again I found myself lying on the floor and staring up at a vaulted ceiling, the morning light flickering through the single window on the wall. However, unlike my previous time in this room, Major Tom was nowhere to be seen. I could only guess that he had gotten word to his wife of his safe return and was now in a happy reunion with her. But that was not my main concern. I began exploring the room more fully, for I had not had a chance to do this last time. I approached the lone desk in the corner of the room where Major Tom had been sitting the fist time I was here. To my surprise there were more porcelain dolls on the table than before. I picked one up and examined it closely. I examined this doll the way one might examine the timer on top of a nuclear bomb. My close examination yielded the most amazing thing I had seen all night. Even more amazing than the strange old blind woman's nightmare inducing smile. To make a long story short, I found that the porcelain doll could be pulled apart revealing the hollow insides of said doll. However, the hollow insides of the porcelain doll contained something that truly was astounding to me. Never had I seen such an amazing spectacle as what I was viewing at that moment. The sheer weight of what I was looking at seemed to bring me to my knees. Pulling apart several other porcelain dolls only further stunned me for they all contained the same thing. They all carried a piece of gold. This strangely valuable substance drew me in, dazzling my eyes with the sparkling glow it seemed to take on in the morning light. Unfortunately, this gold caused me to be caught of guard by something that I didn't, but should have expected. Something that you, no doubt, have been considering since I arrived in this room. To make a long story short, I heard a voice ask me if I liked what I saw. I turned slowly to see Major Tom staring at me through his spectacles, looking like an overweight, balding, slightly less gray Dumbledore. Actually, he didn't really look like Dumbledore at all except for the glasses. Once again I found myself wondering how this man became a space traveler. However, I had a much more important subject to think about, that subject being my answer to Major Tom's rather creepy question. To make a long story short, I told him that the gold was very pretty. Major Tom laughed and told me that I sounded like a girl. I found that statement to be completely unnecessary and told him so. Major Tom shrugged and informed me that I was his captive. I must confess that I had not considered this fact and suddenly I found myself wondering how I would get away from this insulting and perplexing astronaut. I asked him why he wanted to hold me captive and his response stunned and silenced me at the same time. His response seemed to come at me the way a lion comes at a gazelle. To make a long story short, he told me that I had stolen his can of peas and he wanted them back. After a long moment of silence, I informed him that I no longer had his can of peas and, in fact, had left them in the large room with the oddly colored walls. Major Tom seemed thoroughly surprised at that fact and informed me that he would be right back. With that, he left the room. Now I had no intention of waiting for him to return and so I set about trying to find a means of escaping. I decided that my first plan of action should be to study the floor, for one never knows what useful items one might find on the floor. I examined the floor the same way one might examine an approaching tidal wave and found something very unexpected. It was no object, nor--to my relief--sleeping gas, but something different entirely. To make a long story short, what I found underneath Major Tom's desk was a trap door. My surprise is likely akin to the surprise the captain of the Titanic must have felt when he found out that the ham on the buffet table was overcooked. I decided that if I was going to find a way out without alerting Major Tom--for I was under the impression that he didn't want me to leave--I would have to enter this trap door and hope to find a way out from there. As you may recall, I last left you with me entering a trap door behind the desk which held the porcelain dolls which each contained a piece of gold. So, upon lowering myself through the trap door, I landed on solid ground, as opposed to soft ground, liquid ground, or no ground at all. When I reached my hand out, I found myself touching a light switch and happily flipped it. What I saw was the most stunning, beautiful and slightly unsettling thing I had seen all night. To make a long story short, I found myself standing on a ledge overlooking a large chamber filled with gold. However, this gold was not in little pebble-like pieces as was the gold I found in the porcelain dolls. No as a matter of fact, the gold that I saw whilst standing on a ledge overlooking the large chamber in which the gold now lay, were solid bars. Of course, pebbles are solid too, so I suppose it is more accurate to say that the gold was shaped like a bar of Toblerone chocolate. At that moment, I heard something that brought me from my examination of the gold and into a state of panic that I had not felt all night. To make a long story short, I heard a loud shout coming from deeper in the building. I looked to the left and found myself staring at a long passageway. I came to the conclusion that returning to Major Tom's room was a silly idea and that the only way I was getting out of this place was by following that tunnel. I headed down the tunnel, happy that it was well lit, for I had heard of people being trapped in tunnels that had no lights at all and found themselves only able to smell the rotting corpses of claustrophobic spelunkers who had come before them. Fortunately, it was not dark and I was not claustrophobic. And I smelled no rotting corpses, although that came as something of a surprise, for I figured Major Tom would have killed his fellow astronauts in order to keep the truth of their safe return a secret. My thoughts were pulled from this depressing idea when I saw something through a crack in the wall. It was something that I had not expected to see and something that I expect none of you would expect to see, yet see it I did and describe it I will. [i]And that's where it ends...[/i]

To make a long story short, I noticed she was waving a cane in front of her, tapping the street as she went. This led me to the obvious conclusion that the strange old woman was blind. I feared to ask her about her condition, for blind people usually wish to be treated like regular people. However, I reasoned that even if the strange old woman hadn't been blind, she probably still wouldn't be regular, so I decided to gather all of my willpower--again, not literally, it is merely another figure of speech used to help you understand what a tremendous effort this was--and ask the strange old woman a question. To make a long story short, I asked the strange old woman why she had a picture of the very dog that chewed up my first baseball mitt and now haunted my dreams in one eye, and a tiny unreadable scroll in the other. Her response changed everything. To make a long story short, the strange old woman told me that the very dog that chewed up my first baseball mitt, yes even that very dog which haunted my dreams for years, was her dog. I cannot stress how sorry I am at what trauma this revelation may have caused you or anyone in the direct vicinity as you read this. I hope you understand now why it is so important that you know that the very dog that chewed up my first baseball mitt belonged to the strange old woman. I couldn't seem to find words to speak, so the strange old woman spoke instead, saying words just as shocking as the previous had been. To make a long story short, she told me that the eye with the scroll in it contained a phrase that she had learned long ago, and one that had stayed with her even after an Octopus rudely stuck a tentacle in both her eyes, forcing her to get these fake eyes. The scroll had suddenly lost all the meaning that I thought it held. Instead, a new question formed in my mind, one that might reveal all of the answers. I took great care in wording my question and slowly opened my mouth So, after I asked her the question, the strange old blind woman scowled and started shuffling away again. She only spoke one word. The word which she spoke was so short and curt that I wasn't sure if she had actually spoken a word, or just grunted in an attempt to act like a cave woman. However, the look she gave me when she turned reassured me that she was, in fact, talking to me. To make a long story short, she told me to come. I wondered if, perhaps, she was having withdrawals from her dead dog, who I'm sure she said "come" to all the time. I was not particularly pleased at being treated like a dog, however, with the answer so near, I obeyed her command and followed obediently, if a bit petulantly, at her side. The strange old blind woman led me down a meandering path, which isn't to say that the path we took was meandering, for it was a straight road, but that the way the woman walked was meandering. For fear of angering her further, I chose to follow in the exact same meandering path she took, even attempting to shuffle my feet as she did, until I tripped over myself and quickly gave up that pursuit. It wasn't long (although by now I had noticed that the sky had grown lighter, signifying that the sun would soon be rising) before we approached something that I had not expected to see. In fact, my thoughts had drifted so far from this thing in the past hour that I could barely contain my surprised at seeing this thing. To make a long story short, we had returned to the very large building. The place where everything started was apparently the place where everything would be finished. Although, I could not be sure that this would be the place where everything would be finished, for this strange old blind woman was very strange indeed and may have just led me here because she enjoys looking at very large buildings. However, I deduced that this was not the case, for the strange old blind woman was, in fact, blind, and so could not look at very large buildings. The thought then entered my mind that perhaps this strange old blind woman lived in the very large building, as so many other things seemed to live there, albeit inanimately so. Before I could ask her this question, she told me something unsettling, commanding, and unexpected. To make a long story short, the strange old blind woman told me to go inside the building and, in there, I would find the answer I was looking for. It was then that I asked her why she couldn't just tell me, or at least let me look at the scroll in her eye. She responded with a cryptic and rather infuriating statement that seemed to have been conjured only to get me to leave her alone. To make a long story short, she told me that the dog that had been hit by the old man who owned the very large building which housed the room full of porcelain dolls, outside of which sat my can of peas encompassed in a blender, was in fact her dog. The very dog which chewed up my first baseball mitt and haunted my dreams for years. To make a long story short, I found myself to be completely upset by this news. How could I possibly find out why the very dog which haunted my dreams would chew up my first baseball mitt now? I asked the strange old blind woman this very question and she gave me a very simple answer, although it happened to frustrate me a great deal. To make a long story short, the strange old blind woman told me that all the answers to the questions that I and any other person, who might have been watching this unfold from the safety of a nearby dumpster, might have could be found inside that very large building. I found this very hard to believe as I had been in this building before and examined the walls very closely, only finding one outlet and a door leading to the room full of porcelain dolls. Now, as I was saying before, the strange old blind woman told me that all my answers could be found in the very large building outside of which we were standing. I was skeptical of this idea, for I had explored very thoroughly the large room which housed discolored walls, a blender, a can of peas and a door leading to another room full of porcelain dolls. However, I realized that there might be a slight chance that this very large building might house more than just two rooms and so, to make a long story short, I agreed to go back into the very large building. I hoped that perhaps I would be able to meet Major Tom again and ask him some very pressing questions about what happened to the rest of his crew and how he was still alive. To make a long story short, I entered the building and found myself standing, once again, in the very large room where I had first found the can of peas which led me on my quest for a can opener which brought me in contact with the strange old blind woman who informed me that I would need to carry her eye--which held a scroll which I assumed had the answer to several pressing questions, the foremost of which being, "Why would the very dog which haunted my dreams and chewed up my first baseball mitt be pictured in your other eye?"--in a can of peas before I could examine it with the magnifying glass that Major Tom dropped on the road after examining the dog he hit, the very dog which chewed up my first baseball mitt and haunted my dreams, also being the very dog that belonged to the strange old blind woman. To make a long story short, I was back at the beginning. I could only hope that this beginning might be the end of all the beginnings which had begun on this strange night, and not just another beginning that would lead to more beginnings until my life was filled with so many beginnings that I couldn't hope to find all the ends to said beginnings. In this very large room in the very large building where these very strange events began to happen very quickly, I once again found my eyes straying to the spot where I had found the can of peas and the blender, which now encompassed the can of peas somewhere in the world. I was once again surprised to see something I didn't expect, for what I expected, as usual, was nothing. However, nothing is not what I saw, if in fact, nothing can be seen at all. To make a long story short, I saw a small rock sitting on the floor in the exact same spot as the can of peas and the blender before. This rock both stunned and puzzled me at the same time. I wondered why someone would want to replace a missing can of peas and a missing Blendtec blender with a rock. I decided that there was only one course of action I could take, one that could lead me to unknown horrors, or fabulous answers. To make a long story short, I picked up the rock and examined it closely. Studying the rock the same way one might study a meteor that is about to strike their house. What I found did not stun me, as before, but it was still puzzling nonetheless. So puzzling, in fact, that I find the very definition of being puzzled to be insufficient to describe just how puzzling this rock was. To make a long story short, the rock was a puzzle. I had my suspicions when I first saw the rock, noting that it was square, but now I knew for a fact that this was a puzzle. At that moment I discovered that there was no possible way I could continue until I opened this strange puzzle. I began twisting the strange puzzle box around and with the first twist, something fully unexpected happened. So unexpected that it literally knocked me off my feet.

To make a long story short, he told me his name was Major Tom. My astonishment can only be expressed by the words "panorama" and "feet". As I write this, "Major Tom" by Peter Schilling is playing right next to me and I can assure you that when I listen to this song, I do not think of an overweight, balding man who happens to have a porcelain doll on his desk. As I thought of the improbability of him being Major Tom, he looked at me and said, "You look confused." Saying "you look confused" to someone is the equivalent of telling them they are obviously to stupid to understand what you just said. So I decided to ask him something that only the real Major Tom would know. To make a long story short, I asked him how he made it back to Earth in one piece. Especially with all the drifting and falling. Major Tom didn't answer my question, which is what I expected the real Major Tom would do. A secret like that shouldn't be told to a stranger you drugged and kidnapped. Instead, he told me something that, as you may expect, was unexpected. I had often imagined these words being said to me in the grocery store or out in the park while playing frisbee, but never had I imagined they would be said by Major Tom. To make a long story short, he told me he owned this building. My disbelief must have been clear on my face, for he got upset and asked me what was wrong with a man owning a porcelain doll warehouse. I can honestly tell you, reader, that the idea of this being a porcelain doll warehouse had not crossed my mind. "But why," I asked, being careful not to mention his space ship again, "did you have a bottle of sleeping gas in your porcelain doll?" To this, Major Tom gave me the answer that I needed to hear. The answer that made everything I'd done worth the trouble. Surprisingly, the fist thing I remember after asking the question is waking up in a well-lit alley. I must admit that I am as surprised as you must be that this is my first memory from that point. When I stepped out of the alley which, contrary to popular belief, was not dark, wet, or infested with rats and trash cans, I was most certainly not surprised to find myself standing on a sidewalk on th side of a street. I was surprised, however, at what I saw in the middle of the street. Upon waking, my last thought was that I would find this in the middle of the street. In fact, I believe my last thought at any point during the nights adventure was that I would find this in the middle of anywhere...except perhaps a coffin. As you may have guessed already, the thing I saw standing in the middle of the street was a lone dog with pale yellow fur. My first thought was that it was the very dog that chewed up my first baseball mitt and haunted my dreams to that day. But then I realized that it couldn't possibly be the same dog. For that very dog that chewed up my first baseball mitt all those years ago must be dead by now. Before I could move closer to the dog to examine it and see if, in fact, it was the very dog that chewed up my first baseball mitt, a most unexpected thing happen. Actually, I must be honest, the minute I saw the dog I expected it to happen. To make a long story short, the dog was hit by a car. I decided that this was conclusive evidence that the very dog that chewed up my first baseball mitt was not the very dog that just got hit by a car. After coming to that conclusion, I noticed that the car had screeched to a halt. A man got out of the car and circled around to see what he had hit, for pale yellow dogs must be very hard to see on a dark road. Upon looking at the man I was treated to another unexpected, but pleasant turn of events. To make a long story short, the man who went to check on the dog--no, it was his car he was checking on--was none other than Major Tom himself. You can imagine how happy I was to see him so I could ask him how I wound up in a well-lit and well-furnished alley. Upon seeing me, however, he turned and ran back into his car, driving away before I had the chance to say hello. I was shocked for a moment, until I realized that, being the owner of a porcelain doll warehouse, he must have many important things to do and was obviously late for a meeting. Upon closer examination of the pale, yellow dog, I became aware of the fact that one side of it's rib cage was noticeably more broken than the other. This was further proof that this was not the very dog that chewed up my first baseball mitt, for I distinctly remember that the very dog that chewed up my first baseball mitt had both sides of its rib cage in full working order. In examining the dog, however, I noticed something much more startling than the fact that it wasn't the dog that had haunted my dreams for years. To make a long story short, next to the dog's ear was a small magnifying glass. Once again, the events of the night came flooding back, and I found myself looking at the object that would allow me to see all the answers. I decided to walk down the road, only sure that I was walking on a sidewalk, but not knowing where I was or where I was going. I hasten to add that I knew where I wanted to go, however I did not know how to get there. I didn't walk far, however, when I something that startled, frightened, and excited me all at the same time, although I admit that being startled is very close to being frightened. To make a long story short, standing a short distance away was the strange old lady, eyes closed as usual. I walked slowly toward her, not wanting to startle her, or frighten her, just in case she was actually sleeping, instead of simply standing with her eyes closed. But the minute I drew near, she opened her eyes, staring right at me, and startling and frightening me yet again. "The man you just saw--" "Yes," I interrupted, for I did not need her to waste my time with little details that didn't matter, "I know who he is." She seemed startled by this and her eyes widened. I was happy to see that her left eye still showed the very dog that chewed up my first baseball mitt and haunted my dreams for years. Her right eye showed the scroll, just as I remembered, and just as unreadable. I felt a strange sensation, one that I remembered feeling earlier. It was a sensation that filled me with elation, and not the deodorant either, and made me ecstatic just at the thought of being able to feel it again. To make a long story short, I had an epiphany. This epiphany was so great and so powerful that I had to ask the old woman to wait while I hunched over, trying to steady myself from the sheer brilliance of said epiphany. I decided then and there that I would attempt to have an epiphany as often as possible, no matter what the consequences may be, for epiphanies brought me to such great knowledge and made me feel such awesome power that I couldn't imagine not having another one. When the epiphany overcame my senses, I looked directly at the strange old lady and uttered words that I don't imagine any of you, or possibly anyone else in the entire world has ever heard. However, after reading the words which I uttered, you will no longer have to bear the burden of not having heard these words before and so, no longer be conforming to the norms of the entire world. To make a long story short, I asked the old woman if I might examine her eye with a magnifying glass. The response, as usual, was not what I expected. I don't mean that I usually expect the unexpected, quite the contrary in fact, but I was beginning to expect, as I'm sure you are as well, that nothing would go as expected on this very unexpected night. To make a long story short, the old woman told me that she would not let me examine the eye unless I first carried it in a can of peas. I imagine you can understand my befuddlement (a word which may cause just as much befuddlement as the event that spawned it) at this demand. I thought to myself, "Why would she want me to carry her eye in a can of peas now? Truly this is the strangest strange old woman I've ever met." It was easy for me to say, for I had not made a habit of meeting strange old women. To make a long story short, I asked her the very question I had asked myself, only excluding the part about her being the strangest strange old woman I had ever met. However, I was feeling rather petulant, so I decided to say something before she could even summon the strength to respond to my original question, that was originally questioned in my head before being questioned in my mouth. To make a long story short, I told the strange old woman that I didn't know where the can of peas went. My voice must have sounded funny, for the strange old woman suddenly smiled and told me to follow her. I was hesitant to do so for several reasons. One, she was a very strange old woman. And two, she had a tendency to walk with her eyes closed. Neither of these traits instilled much confidence in me, but I knew that if I wanted to find out the answer to the question as to why the very dog which haunted my dreams would chew up my first baseball mitt, I had no choice but to follow the strange old woman. I followed behind watching her walk with a slow shuffle. It was only then that I noticed something very odd about this strange old woman. Despite all signs that had shown me this truth, I had never allowed myself to see it before, and now it literally stared me right in the face. It was an epiphany of the gut-wrenching sort. The kind that makes you want to scream at the top of your longs while kicking a can full of beans, or full of air, down the street.

To make a long story short, this giant door had no handle and seemingly no possible way to open it. I pushed on the door with all my might when suddenly the most unexpected thing happened. I had never expected this to happen, which is why it was so unexpected. The event that took place immediately during, and after I pushed on the door caused such great alarm and distress that I nearly fell over when it occurred. To make a long story short, the giant door opened when I pushed it. I felt a strange mixture of Elation and perspiration when this happened; Elation being the name of the deodorant I had bought at the store, and perspiration occurring while I pushed on the giant door. When the door opened, I found myself staring in at what I can only describe as unnatural. Naturally, being unnatural, what I saw was not something I'd naturally expect to see behind an unnaturally large door that was pushed open by my naturally small arms. To make a long story short, the room was filled with dolls. These dolls were ordinary in that they were dolls, but unordinary in that they filled the entire room. It struck me then that one of these dolls may hold the answer to why the walls were painted different colors, and what type of person would build such a large building to house such small dolls. So I set forth to examine the dolls one by one in the hopes that they might yield an answer. As I examined each doll closer, it became clear to me that these dolls had a defining trait that I had not expected when I first saw them. As I touched the dolls and discovered this trait, my view of the dolls changed dramatically in ways that I cannot begin to describe, but I will try and describe anyway. For you see, because of this trait, I began to appreciate these dolls and the care that went into making them so much more. Studying these dolls was like enjoying a fancy dinner. If you eat too fast you'll wind up with an upset stomach and a bitter memory. But if you take your time and enjoy every bit of food that is laid out for you by a predictably polite waiter, you will find yourself having the most wonderful dinner of your life. Unless you frequent fancy restaurants on a regular basis, in which case you may only be having the most wonderful dinner of the week. To make a long story short, the trait I noticed in these finally crafted dolls, was that they were porcelain, with hand painted faces and real silk dresses. I made the discovery that they were porcelain when I accidentally dropped one and it shattered on the floor. I made the--albeit, much less important--discovery that they were handcrafted when I read on the back of the porcelain doll (just before I dropped it) the words, "Handcrafted by Major Tom". I was reminded, at that moment, of the song "Major Tom" by Peter Schilling and proceeded to hum it to myself. When I got to the chorus, I couldn't contain my giddy excitement and I began to do what some have come to call a "jig". To make a long story short, during this jig I dropped the porcelain doll, the very doll that was handcrafted by Major Tom. I watched as it dropped to the ground, contemplating what might happen if Major Tom were to drop one of these in his spaceship. I couldn't contemplate this thought very long, for gravity was still in full effect and the porcelain doll shattered all across the floor. I felt a moment of distress when I saw it shatter, but I was quickly alleviated by the fact that the room I happened to be standing in--the very room which had previously been blocked by a giant door--was filled with these porcelain dolls, and I imagined that they were all handcrafted by Major Tom. A closer look at the shattered pieces on the floor, however, revealed something startling to me. I had come in here not knowing what to expect, and in so doing, I found something unexpected. And from that unexpected thing (that thing being the porcelain dolls) something unexpected happened during my reminiscence of the song "Major Tom" by Peter Schilling. And that unexpected happening resulted in this very unexpected discovery, as if every unexpected thing that occurred since I had entered this very large building had been leading up to this one unexpected point--although I must hastily remind you that this is not the point to the thread, although that point may be just as unexpected to the casual reader--which I had just discovered in a most unexpected way. To make a long story short, inside the porcelain doll I found a small bottle of nail polish. Needless to say (but said anyway, despite there not being a need for it to be said), I was astonished by this discovery. I found myself staring at the nail polish when an epiphany began to creep slowly into my head, as a Yeerk might creep slowly into yours. This epiphany came upon me so slowly that I did not realize I had had the epiphany until it escaped my lips. I spoke my epiphanical words in a quiet whisper that seemed to echo, despite the fact that the room was full of porcelain dolls. To make a long story short, I whispered "Major Tom is a girl". Throughout my years of listening to "Major Tom" by Peter Schilling, I had never imagined that Major Tom might possibly be a girl. The reality struck me like a hammer might strike an alarm clock at six in the morning. In my fury, I picked up another porcelain doll and tossed it carelessly into the air. Laughing as I watched it's smug, smiling face fall to the ground. The shattering of this doll was much akin to the shattering of the previous one, except that this time I didn't feel any remorse for the loss of a porcelain doll, handcrafted by Major tom. I looked at the shattered pieces, searching feverishly for another bottle of nail polish, or perhaps hair curlers, but instead, I found something much more unexpected, although, considering the long list of unexpected things that had occurred in that very large building, I should have expected something unexpected, but this, regrettably, was just as unexpected as finding the nail polish had been. To make a long story short, there was nothing in the porcelain doll. It was then that I realized that perhaps there was something more involved with this bottle of nail polish then just the revelation that Major Tom was a girl. With some hope, I thought that maybe this meant Major Tom wasn't a girl after all, but instead trying to send a secret message through these cute and easily broken dolls. I proceeded to examine the nail polish with much greater care, trying with some difficulty not to focus on the fact that only women were allowed to wear nail polish. In examining this nail polish, I quickly made the discovery that it was white and oddly billowy, however, at the time I did not consider that important. What I did find important was what was inscribed on the cap. At the moment, all I could see was a tiny black scribble, but I knew that this tiny black scribble must be an important message. I removed the cap and held it behind the nail polish container, hoping to use the liquid inside to magnify the letters. It was only then that a startling fact came to my attention. A fact that had nothing to do with the lettering on the cap, but everything to do with the purpose of this thread. A fact that was so momentous, it would literally carry me to the next part of my story. To make a long story short, what I thought was white nail polish, actually turned out to be white sleeping gas. This thought had no sooner entered my mind when I felt my eyelids begin to droop. I cannot accurately tell you whether or not I fell, for I was suddenly--and much to my surprise, I assure you--asleep. To make a long story short, when I opened my eyes, I was in a room, much smaller than the very large building I had been in before. It then occurred to me that perhaps I had been sleep walking and was now in a different section of the same, very large building. As I continued to look around, I saw a man sitting at a small desk on the other side of the room, his head bent over as if he was working very intently on something. I slowly stood up and noticed a window to my right. A quick glance told me that I was still in this very large building, and the strange old woman was still standing outside with her eyes closed. And then it came back to me. The very eye that held the answer to the question about a dog that had been haunting me for years was still waiting outside! The events leading up to my gas-induced, but pleasant sleep, all came flooding back into my mind. It was then that I heard a noise. The first noise I had heard since waking up, although that is not a very notable feat, as I had only been awake for a few seconds. To make a long story short, the noise was the man, the very man who sat at the small desk on the other side of the room, speaking. I could only assume he was speaking to me, especially when the contents of his speech were, "Ah, you are awake," and unless he made a habit of kidnapping sleeping people, I was fairly certain that I was the person he was talking to. I noticed he was wearing a magnifying glass attached to his glasses and I suddenly remembered the tiny black print on the lid of the nail polish. I realized that I had been kidnapped, so I decided that it was highly probable that he wouldn't let me have the magnifying glass, and even more probable that he wouldn't let me leave at all. With those thoughts in mind, I asked my next question with the same care someone might ask the President why he chose to have his wife's head shaved. "Who are you?" The man's response was the least expected thing I had expected to hear.

Just posting the whole thing withput the middle stories... [i]To make a long story short[/i] You see, a long time ago, I found myself standing in a very large building. This very large building happened to house a can of peas. Upon viewing this can of peas that sat alone in a very large building, I decided to take it upon myself to eat these peas. But now I, standing in a very large building and looking at this lonely can of peas, found myself facing a conundrum. I had no can-opener! Well, to make a long story short, I walked through the very large building and picked up the lonely can of peas and took them outside. I inquired of a strange old woman if she knew where I might find a can-opener. The strange old woman opened her eyes (for she had been walking with her eyes closed) and looked at me. I saw within the strange old woman's eyes something that had been troubling me for a very long time. To make a long story short, what I saw in the strange old woman's eyes was the very dog who had chewed up my first baseball mitt. This very dog that chewed up my first baseball mitt had haunted my dreams for years, a phrase which, here means "troubled me greatly". I had spent those years, of which my dreams had been haunted by this very dog that chewed up my first baseball mitt, searching for the answer to why this very dog that I now saw in the strange old woman's eyes would chew up my first baseball mitt. Anyway, to make a long story short, I saw the answer to my vexing question within this strange old woman's eyes. You see, the very dog that chewed up my first baseball mitt--the act of which having haunted my dreams for years--was only seen in one of the strange old woman's eyes. In the other was the answer to my question that had been vexing me ever since the very dog that chewed up my first baseball had begun haunting my dreams. To make a long story short, the answer was written on a scroll that had been implanted in the strange old woman's cornea. I couldn't read the scroll, for it was very tiny, so I asked the strange old woman if I might borrow her eye. The strange old woman's reply to this rather blunt question was just as strange as the old woman. To make a long story short, she said yes, but only if I carried the eye in a can of peas. I asked her why it needed to be carried in a can of peas, for a can of peas is not usually the thing one would use to carry an eye, plucked from the socket of a strange old woman. The strange old woman's reply to my rather obvious question was quite the opposite of obvious, and near synonymous with the word strange. To make a long story short, the strange old woman told me that her eye--the very eye which carried the scroll (the scroll carrying the answer to my vexing question as to why the dog, the very dog which haunted my dreams, would chew my first baseball mitt)--must be carried in a can of peas because it was the only substance strong enough to hold the scroll. If I were to carry the eye, which carried the scroll, in anything but a can of peas, the message--and answer to my question about the very dog that chewed my first baseball mitt--would be lost forever. Well, to make a long story short, I told the strange old woman that I had a can of peas, but I had no can-opener with which to open my can of peas. The strange old woman looked at the can of peas in my hands--the very can of peas that I had taken from the very large building in which this can of peas had first sat--and told me that I must find a can-opener as soon as possible. When the strange old woman told me I needed a can-opener before I could have her eye, the very eye which held the answer to a question regarding a dog that had been haunting me for years, I thought it might be prudent to check in the very large building. So I entered the building, leaving the strange old woman standing with her eyes closed outside, and I looked again at the spot where I had found the can of peas. Not to my surprise, the can of peas was not in that spot, but still nestled safely in my arm. To my surprise, however, I found an object in the can of peas' place. This object had been the object of my desire for many years, and when my dreams weren't haunted by the very dog that ate my first baseball mitt, they were filled with longing for this object which now sat before me. To make a long story short, this object happened to be a Blendtec Blender. This Blendtec Blender had been the object of my desires and wildest dreams for so long because I, as a child, had never tasted a smoothie. The reason I hadn't tasted a smoothie is not important, but suffice it to say, I hadn't tasted a smoothie because I grew up in a land where there was no fruit. To make a long story short, I found this Blendtec Blender to be the answer to two of my problems. The first problem, of course, was being able to make a smoothie. The second problem, that being the opening of my can of peas, was solved by the blender in the same way a smoothie is solved by a blender. To make a long story short, with this Blendtec Blender that I found in a very large building, I would be able to open the can of peas. I found that it was fairly easy to pick up the Blendtec Blender, just as I'd always imagined it would be. I placed the can of peas, which was no longer lonely, in the Blendtec Blender and turned the switch toward the on position. It was then that I discovered, to my horror, something that I had feared would happen from the first day I laid eyes on a smoothie. I'd always hoped that such wouldn't be the case, for the act of making a smoothie would be forever tainted by this thing, but as it turned out, what one hopes is the case and what actually is the case usually isn't what one hoped would be the case at all. To make a long story short, the Blendtec Blender was unplugged. The thought occurred to me that there might possibly be an outlet in this very large building. A quick glance told me that there were four walls and a slower glance told me that I was too far away from these walls to fairly judge whether or not one of them might be holding an outlet. So, to make a long story short, I went up to one wall and walked along it, examining it with the same care I would examine a sleeping rinocerous. To my dismay, the wall showed no outlet. I was feeling downtrodden, and continued to trod toward the next wall. This wall received just as much attention as the previous wall, and while I found no outlet, I discovered something that startled me, nearly to the point of causing me to drop my Blendtec Blender which held the can of peas, which I needed to carry the strange old woman's eye which held the answer to my vexing question about a dog who's inexplicable and violent actions against my very first baseball mitt baffled my mind. To make a long story short, I found that this wall was a different color than the wall I had previously examined. Instead of being white, it was, instead, a pale yellow, much like the pale yellow color of the very dog that had chewed up my first baseball mitt. I decided, with much deliberation, that it would be best to examine the next wall and see what color it might be. To make a long story short, I trudged alongside the next wall, examining it with even more care then I had the previous two walls. I examined this wall with the same care one might examine a charging lion's teeth. To my astonishment, this wall was neither pale yellow--the same yellow which tinted the coat of the very dog which chewed my first baseball mitt--nor white, but instead it was an entirely new color, one which I had not expected to find. To make a long story short, the color of this wall was brown. I was becoming very suspicious of these multicolored--and none to attractively colored, I might add--walls, but my suspicions were pushed aside when I found the object which had drawn me to these odd walls in the first place. Yes, hidden in the dark brown of the wall was the thing which would allow me to continue in my quest to find out why the very dog that haunted my dreams would want to chew up my very first baseball mitt. To make a long story short, I found the outlet. It was then that I realized that I was still holding the Blendtec Blender, which also held the can of peas, in my arms. I was pondering this sudden revelation when another thought occurred to me. "What color is the other wall?" It was at that moment that I decided to place the Blendtec Blender--which held my can of peas--on the ground. After placing the Blendtec Blender, which encompassed my can of peas as well, on the ground, I made my way to the fourth and final wall. I walked along this wall, studying it the same way one might study a book that is slowly burning, forever to be turned to ashes, trying to savor every last scrap of it I possibly could. After such an intense study, I came to the conclusion that this wall was no wall at all, but something much more strange. The color of this not-wall was blue. To make a long story short, this wall which wasn't a wall, turned out to be a giant door. I had seen many doors in my life and recollected that those doors were relatively the same size so I realized that I was not the most experienced man when it came to regular door size, but to me, this door was irregularly large. I wondered how I might be able to open this giant door and find out what the contents of said door might be. So I continued walking, examining the door the way one might examine their brain, if they were still able to think and breathe while holding their own brain in their hands.

You know how long this story is?? 44413 -blam!- characters (without the "middle stories" about the zebra and all that) Christ, I want to hear the end.

[quote][b]Posted by:[/b] bacon greese1521 And I smelled no rotting corpses, although that came as something of a surprise, for I figured Major Tom would have killed his fellow astronauts in order to keep the truth of their safe return a secret. [/quote] [quote] [b] Major Tom would have killed [/b] [/quote] [quote] [b] Major Tom would [/b] [/quote] [quote] [b] MAJOR TOM [/b] [/quote] Major Tom is a guy in a David Bowie song... I think you get the point.

aha i am bringing it back aha

[quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Poojoos [quote]Five bucks says that he started this thread because someone told him to in order for something to happ This is Halifax again. I have had to beat down this person and take his laptop (which I might add is very slow and heavy). Now I will continue my story. To make a long story short, I saw the very dog that had ruined my first baseball mitt. I felt my pockets, and pulled a pocket knife out of my pocket. I attempted to take out a shard of the wall, but I had an unexpected result. To make a long story short, the wall fell down, crushing the very dog which had ruined my first baseball mitt. I walked inside, and I Hey guys, this is WolfTeen. I just woke up and I think I killed Halifax. Sorry, but your story's done. Go home.[/quote] someones a little grumpy gills... its amazing how hes managed to write so much on such a short story, let him go on, and see how much he can get out[/quote] t(-_-t)

[quote]Five bucks says that he started this thread because someone told him to in order for something to happ This is Halifax again. I have had to beat down this person and take his laptop (which I might add is very slow and heavy). Now I will continue my story. To make a long story short, I saw the very dog that had ruined my first baseball mitt. I felt my pockets, and pulled a pocket knife out of my pocket. I attempted to take out a shard of the wall, but I had an unexpected result. To make a long story short, the wall fell down, crushing the very dog which had ruined my first baseball mitt. I walked inside, and I Hey guys, this is WolfTeen. I just woke up and I think I killed Halifax. Sorry, but your story's done. Go home.[/quote] someones a little grumpy gills... its amazing how hes managed to write so much on such a short story, let him go on, and see how much he can get out [Edited on 04.27.2008 9:15 AM PDT]

Halifax purpose nao!!

*Points Splaser at bacon greese1521* IMA CHARGIN' MAH LAZERS! *Points Splaser at Halifax* Purpose. [i]Now.[/i] [Edited on 04.27.2008 8:21 AM PDT]

[quote][b]Posted by:[/b] bacon greese1521 Everyone, I would like to apologize for my long absence from this thread. Yes, this is the same person who has been writing the story so far. Halifax has gone to great lengths to keep me from posting, even going so far as to ask your Overlord to IP ban me. Fortunately, the fact that I haven't been able to keep a computer for longer than a day makes that impossible. So, despite the resistance I am receiving from both the real world and the internet, I will continue my story. As you may recall, I last left you with me entering a trap door behind the desk which held the porcelain dolls which each contained a piece of gold. So, upon lowering myself through the trap door, I landed on solid ground, as opposed to soft ground, liquid ground, or no ground at all. When I reached my hand out, I found myself touching a light switch and happily flipped it. What I saw was the most stunning, beautiful and slightly unsettling thing I had seen all night. To make a long story short, I found myself standing on a ledge overlooking a large chamber filled with gold. However, this gold was not in little pebble-like pieces as was the gold I found in the porcelain dolls. No as a matter of fact, the gold that I saw whilst standing on a ledge overlooking the large chamber in which the gold now lay, were solid bars. Of course, pebbles are solid too, so I suppose it is more accurate to say that the gold was shaped like a bar of Toblerone chocolate. At that moment, I heard something that brought me from my examination of the gold and into a state of panic that I had not felt all night. To make a long story short, I heard a loud shout coming from deeper in the building. I looked to the left and found myself staring at a long passageway. I came to the conclusion that returning to Major Tom's room was a silly idea and that the only way I was getting out of this place was by following that tunnel. I headed down the tunnel, happy that it was well lit, for I had heard of people being trapped in tunnels that had no lights at all and found themselves only able to smell the rotting corpses of claustrophobic spelunkers who had come before them. Fortunately, it was not dark and I was not claustrophobic. And I smelled no rotting corpses, although that came as something of a surprise, for I figured Major Tom would have killed his fellow astronauts in order to keep the truth of their safe return a secret. My thoughts were pulled from this depressing idea when I saw something through a crack in the wall. It was something that I had not expected to see and something that i expect none of you would expect to see, yet see it I did and describe it I will. [i][b]Before I can go into description about this, I must leave. I wasn't able to reach the rendezvous on time and so I am hiding on the train that they are using to transport the Blue-coated Zebra. However, the train is about to come to a stop, so I must leave. I doubt I will be able to use this account again, so please pay attention to the thread as I have no idea when I will be able to find another account to use.[/i][/b][/quote] Five bucks says that he started this thread because someone told him to in order for something to happ This is Halifax again. I have had to beat down this person and take his laptop (which I might add is very slow and heavy). Now I will continue my story. To make a long story short, I saw the very dog that had ruined my first baseball mitt. I felt my pockets, and pulled a pocket knife out of my pocket. I attempted to take out a shard of the wall, but I had an unexpected result. To make a long story short, the wall fell down, crushing the very dog which had ruined my first baseball mitt. I walked inside, and I Hey guys, this is WolfTeen. I just woke up and I think I killed Halifax. Sorry, but your story's done. Go home.

Or a scroll inside a woman's eye but...

Lies. There is no such thing as a Blue-coated Zebra

Everyone this thread ended lllooooooooong time ago.Please Halifax said himself to let it die...