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It was a blustery day at the gulf of Por’Kul’Etz, a tiny port city on the backwater planet of Idos Prime. Lakeri palmed the holster of her phase ray, the standard nonlethal weapon for security forces. Recently, rebel factions had been trying to incite the local populace to revolt, and one could never be to careful. Still, the locals were armed only with rotary impulse arms, so it would probably be a piece of cake to handle things if there were an uprising.

A eight-armed maintenance droid, fallowed by a terrified government counsel, approached her from the direction of the worker cubicles. She turned to face the breathless man.
He tried to speak, but was so out of air all that came out was a inaudible rasp.

Calming down a bit, the counsel explained that a thief had stolen the iridium-metal polecat from the museum of Por’Kul’Etz.
Lakeri paged a police hovercar, and they departed to the museum to investigate.

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In general, what exactly makes a game good isn't that easily
quantified - perhaps the absense of things that make it bad? - Words of Wisdom from Glenn Andreas
     
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Key
Rebel
Ocean
Snail
Grumpy
Folder
Plastic
Carpet
Finger
Bit

[ooc] this is fun! [bic]

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In general, what exactly makes a game good isn't that easily
quantified - perhaps the absense of things that make it bad? - Words of Wisdom from Glenn Andreas
     
Where do you want to [url="http://"http://www.macclassics.com/cythera/tricks/rJade.htm"]teleport[/url] today?

Quote

Former admiral Fagor Stern fumbled with the key to his personal transport-o-scoot. Damn that upstart rebel allience! who did they think they were, barging into the system is if they owned the place? The transport-o-scoot's engine stuttered into life as explosions tore through the star destroyer around him. What was he doing here? Why had the emperor sent him to this backwater ocean planet before his timely demise? Somehow the rebels had found him here and attacked without mercy. Surely that was his job, attacking without mercy? In fact it was in his contract somewhere- subsection 4 paragraph c, he thought.
The transport-o-scoot pootered out into the cold hard vacuum of space. Stern was suddenly glad he had invested in the Vac-suits-4-less™ streamline special back on Dantooine. It might not offer the greatest protection but it was better than vacuum scooting naked.
Stern turned and watched his command ship explode in a massive ball of flame as it's oxygen caught fire. He could feel the heat from the explosion even through his protective suit. He continued to watch with increasing annoyence as the rebel forces hunted down and destroyed ever last tie fighter he had escorting his ship. Their mission complete, the rebels entered hyperspace and disappeared as suddenly as they had arrived, leaving Stern to ponder his next move.
The trouble was that the transport-o-scoot, for all it's economical features (it got .35 lightyears to the gallon) and safety devices (the airbag for example. The only trouble with that feature was the fact that in deploying it would use nearly half of the pilots oxygen), it couldn't actually make planetery landings. At least without creating the kind of pretty effects that Jimminy Cricket would have happily wished upon.
Then, as luck would have it, he noticed a ship rising from the planet below. He sent our distress signals in every language he knew.
An answer came... in Huttese. A flickering blue umage showed up above the dashboard. It was Halko the Hutt, Jabba's first cousin. He was indulging in his favourite snack of Jalgamese giant snails.
"Hoo hoo hoo... Kun Sum sulatu, Admiral Stern. Am Duk Ku sam ko Emperor baa?"
Stern had no idea what Halko was talking about, but the slug creature sounded grumpy.
It was then Halko's translator cut in:
"Ho ho ho," he translated, "You're screwed now Admiral Stern. Where's your precious Emperor now?"
"Halko! Just the slug I wanted," From his suit he extracted a folder (made of a substance which looked, felt, smelled and tasted just like plastic, but was in fact nothing of the sort) and waved it at the telescreen. "I belive you were looking for this?"
The Hutt's expression froze for a second and the picture flickered and died. The transport-o-scoot was caught in a tractor beam that eminated from the crimelord's pleasure ship and the tiny vessel with it's single occupant was guided into the nearest transpot bay.
He was met by an armed contingent of Gamorean guards and "escorted" in a very impolite manner to Halko's meeting chamber (sited conveniontly above the Kell Dragon pit) and thrown in front of the slimy creature.
"Louk am so lo tar Stern?"
Stern didn't wait for the translation.
"It's all here Halko. Jabba's address book and contact diary," Stern waved the folder once again.
It slipped out of his hands and fell open on the floor. Instead of the largest and most accurate listing of the criminal underworld were a selection of carpet samples Stern was planning to take back to his wife.
Halko was not amused. Nor was the former admiral when he found out when the Hutt had lined up for him. The rest of Fagor's life was spent with Halko's chief torturer sticking his long and c gnarled finger into places most intimate to the former admiral. Did he enjoy any of it?
Not one bit.

Az

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"Your superior intellect is no match for our primative weaponry!"
[url="http://"http://www.geocities.com/acomicaboutus"]Don't ask, just click.[/url]

Paper
Rubber
Towel
Menace
Quil
Tape
Arm
Convex
Story
Laser

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In general, what exactly makes a game good isn't that easily
quantified - perhaps the absense of things that make it bad? - Words of Wisdom from Glenn Andreas
     
Where do you want to [url="http://"http://www.macclassics.com/cythera/tricks/rJade.htm"]teleport[/url] today?

Hm, I guess I'll try my hand at this...

Once upon a time there was a happy little commune of paper towels. The commune was nestled in an equally happy little valley. The commune survived by harvesting rubber from the trees that grew in a valley, a task that was made only slightly more difficult due to their lack of arms (or legs, for that matter).

However, this story is not about the paper towel commune's inordinately happy (if commercially unsuccessful) life. Rather, it is about their valiant fight against a great menace, the United Federal Capitalist Empire of Papertowelia. As these aggressive paper towels expanded their empire, they saw great potential in the valley: it was an obvious hub for commercial traffic (as all paper towels could do is roll downwards, which was part of the reason that the commune was commercially unsuccessful... but I said that I this story wasn't about that, right? Right.) Also, the rubber trees were a valuable resource that could be harnessed as weapons of war.

For obvious reasons, the United Federal Capitalist Empire of Papertowelia did not much appreciate the life of those happy paper towels in the valley. In order to remove them from the area, they constructed a gigantic (by paper towel standards) laser by creating a convex lense out of scotch tape, then directing the light through a quil. Mounting their great invention far above the valley, they easily fried the poor commune out of existence. Soon, a bustling city lay where the small commune had before. Things continued to look up economically in the area until the Great Rubber Band War wiped out the whole society.

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Bronze: the other gold metal.   | |   And so the space toaster hardened the outer layers of the doughy, ooey-gooey ancient Earth...
Bacchus Publishing: [url="http://"http://www.ambrosiasw.com/cgi-bin/vftp/show.pl?product=evo&category=guides&display=date&file=ChroniclesByJake101.sit.hqx"]Chronicles by Jake101: the unposted chapters[/url].

lol that was halarious Talos.
I wish some one would give me some words...

Moon
Green
Splendid
Blackened
Calculator
Bare
Mouse
Windshield
Cord
Head

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In general, what exactly makes a game good isn't that easily
quantified - perhaps the absense of things that make it bad? - Words of Wisdom from Glenn Andreas
     
Where do you want to [url="http://"http://www.macclassics.com/cythera/tricks/rJade.htm"]teleport[/url] today?

Quote

Those words don't look all that random. Try these:
Gruel
Splash
Appear
Vademecum (handbook or other thing carried constantly about the person, it says here...)
Fly
Pisgah (mountain whence Moses viewed the promiced land)
Capillary (of hair; hair-like,thin as a hair; of minute or hair-like diameter)
Shine
Incorporate
Tear
And those words, I can assure you, were taken at random from the good ol' OED.

Az

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___
"Your superior intellect is no match for our primative weaponry!"
[url="http://"http://www.geocities.com/acomicaboutus"]Don't ask, just click.[/url]

What is your definition of random, Zin?

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In general, what exactly makes a game good isn't that easily
quantified - perhaps the absense of things that make it bad? - Words of Wisdom from Glenn Andreas
     
Where do you want to [url="http://"http://www.macclassics.com/cythera/tricks/rJade.htm"]teleport[/url] today?

(welcome me back later)

Let's see...

embankment
wand
cartridge
thesaurus
windows
Timex
bank
pirate
cat
ravioli

Hehe, let's see someone make a paragraph out of this.

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Key Part in the making of [url="http://"http://homepage.mac.com/mdwgmalc"]Xichra's Revenge[/url].
---
"Yo ho ho and a bottle of Snapple! Cap't and his Pirate Crew!
Microsoft is better than Apple! I have more software than you!" <repeat>

Bob climbed the embankment, the wand of measurement he had just retrived from the cartridge-maker elves under his left arm and his trusty exploding thesaurus under his right. Suddenly, the windows of the cartridge-maker house poped open.
"You forgot your Timex!" A thin face in the window shouted.

He was too far up to go back, though.
"Just put it in the bank for me!" He returned.

Sadly, before he could ever return, a pirate cat sacked their house and turned them all into elven ravioli, to be sold ignominiously at McDonalds.


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In general, what exactly makes a game good isn't that easily
quantified - perhaps the absense of things that make it bad? - Words of Wisdom from Glenn Andreas
     
Where do you want to [url="http://"http://www.macclassics.com/cythera/tricks/rJade.htm"]teleport[/url] today?

Quote

Here she was- Tanuin Erwye, of the Silver Moon Temple- alone in the middle of nowhere. She had nobody, nothing, nowhere to go.

Tanuin stared across the tundra at the horizon. The setting sun cast flickering shadows across the dark green tundra grasses. It was a beautiful sight, really- Tanuin had always thought sunrises and sunsets were splendid- but now she was too cold and exhausted to really notice its splendor.

She looked at the blackened remains of her campfire moodily. The recent rains had finally killed the sputtering flames. Tanuin sighed and pulled out her weather calculator, a present from the Temple Ministers after her acception into the Temple.

The calculator processed the data Tanuin gave it, and then showed a reading of an overcast night, raining again, but at least the tundra would be bare of snow.

Tanuin's supply of matches was almost out. She gave up thought of lighting another fire and flopped back onto the ground, pulling her warm elk skins closer around her. She watched a mouse running among the grasses. It looked lost; out of place- like Tanuin.

It was not long before the sun set fully and it began to rain. With the rain, though, came an unexpected wind. Tanuin cursed herself. She'd forgotten to check the weather calculaor for winds! Scurrying over to her bedroll, Tanuin shook the water droplets off of a spare fur and supported it with wooden poles. It wasn't much of a windshield, but it provided enough protection for the time being.

Tanuin glanced at the darkening sky and began to clean up her camp. She wrapped her shrinking food bundles up with a cord, arranged her furs into a bed, and covered the fire with dirt.

Sighing in exhaustion, Tanuin Erwye pulled her fur hood up over her head and lay down, preparing for another cold tundra night.


Well, seeing as there are already some extra lists of words, I won't add another one.

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A sense of peace fell over me as I watched the sunrise from my room...then I realized my window faces west.

[This message has been edited by iKaterei (edited 08-31-2002).]

Screwdriver
Scar
Torch
Dustmask
Fetid
Tome
Cavernious
Pendulum
Bromine
Plan

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In general, what exactly makes a game good isn't that easily
quantified - perhaps the absense of things that make it bad? - Words of Wisdom from Glenn Andreas
     
Where do you want to [url="http://"http://www.macclassics.com/cythera/tricks/rJade.htm"]teleport[/url] today?

[This message has been edited by Bryce (edited 09-01-2002).]

Heh, I take a few days out to enjoy my new computer, and look what I miss!

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The e-mail of the specious is deadlier than their mail

You should have known it would be horrendously boring without you...

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"I hate that! Your answers are always short, precise, and utterly useless!"
"Yes."