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| The One they call Oliver... or Sweetcakes | Started by: Keats on Nov 20, '07 21:38 |
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Keats emerges from the park, stumbling over various drunkards, and ruefully wishes he could be amongst them. He arrives, however, at the streets and begins to angrily rant to the assembled multitudes Good day to you all. We are gathered here today to not join together, but to rip apart. Specifically, I am going to rip a certain someone a new one. You may have heard of them: oftentimes they are known and called and IDENTIFIED by the name Oliver_McTavish. Personally... I have heard this individual referred to as Sweetcakes. *AHEM* TO BEGIN... what's in a name? Sometimes, a lot. What's in THAT THING'S name? Nothing. Nothing at all. And not even nothing as in "Hey, Keats, what'd you get from that girl tonight?" Nothing meaning RIDICULOUS NOTHING. Keats's sidekick leaps up to him and mentions he does often, in fact, get ridiculous nothing from various girls. Smacking his diminutive counterpart, Keats returns to his speech What does "Oliver_McTavish" even mean? I'll tell you: It's a poor orphan boy/cat, coupled with some Turkish food that you'd buy in McDonalds. Is that someone you want leading a family? An orphan cat that you can eat at a Turkish McDonalds? Why don't you just appoint Felix McBaklava and be done with it, eh? ALSO, I have here, in my hand, a list of 57 things that Oliver_McTavish is personally responsible for. I will now share some of these with you, though I do so at a great personal risk: Bellybutton lint. How does it get there? You don't recall poking your shirt into your bellybutton and rubbing it around, do you? Well I'll tell you what, my friend... you didn't. And now you know who put it there. You know how, in a loaf of bread, there are always two inferior pieces at each end? I have IRREFUTABLE EVIDENCE that Oliver has forced the bread companies to continue this policy, just so he can promise each and every one of these sad slices that he will, in fact, make a sandwich out of them. And guess what? He doesn't. He casts them aside, and laughs at his own coldheartedness. I can also attest that Oliver_Mctavish created nonalcoholic beer. This travesty in the eyes of God and man needs no further comment. I think I have demonstrated beyond a shadow of a doubt that Sweetcakes... er... Oliver_McTavish... does indeed suck beyond compare. But unlike those who come to these streets as civilians, to spout their anger and disappear without doing anything, I am willing to put my money where my mouth is. I challenge you, Oliver_McTavish, to a DUEL! With the murmurs running through the crowd, Keats's small sidekick sprints up to him and furiously whispers that, in fact, Oliver has an extremely formidable gun. Keats turns white, begins to sweat, and looks frantically back at the crowd I have just been informed that some of you may have thought I said "a duel". Ha ha ha. Silly crowd. I would never do such a thing: I am a poet and a lover, not a fighter. The acoustics are pretty wacky here. What I ACTUALLY said was that I challenge you, Oliver_McTavish, to a... er... MUGGING DUEL. Or maybe Scrabble? Perhaps a poetic battle? The choice is yours, you... monkey slime... just please don't shoot me... Sweetcakes? |
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*On his way to the local bakery proctar sees a crowd quickly form around keats then disband just as quickly* Ha ha ha hey keats you had me going there for a while i was hooked. *Proctar smiles happily then continues to the bakery* |
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| Reply by: Proctar at Nov 20, '07 21:56 | |
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