Fighting evil by moonlight
Winning love by daylight
Never running from a real fight
She is the one named Sailor Moon
She will never turn her back on a friend
She is always there to defend
She is the one on whom we can depend
She is the one named Sailor...
Sailor Venus
Sailor Mercury
Sailor Mars
Sailor Jupiter
With secret powers
All so new to her
She is the one named Sailor Moon
Fighting evil by moonlight
Winning love by daylight
With her Sailor Scouts to help fight
She is the one named Sailor Moon
She is the one named Sailor Moon
She is the one Sailor Moon
I don't think I've actually ever seen sailor moon. I have vague memories observing it in the corner of my eye in another room whilst leaving a friends house once. But I don't think that qualifies.
Fighting evil by moonlight
Winning love by daylight
Never running from a real fight
She is the one named Sailor Moon
She will never turn her back on a friend
She is always there to defend
She is the one on whom we can depend
She is the one named Sailor...
Sailor Venus
Sailor Mercury
Sailor Mars
Sailor Jupiter
With secret powers
All so new to her
She is the one named Sailor Moon
Fighting evil by moonlight
Winning love by daylight
With her Sailor Scouts to help fight
She is the one named Sailor Moon
She is the one named Sailor Moon
She is the one Sailor Moon
I think nobody choose Guru out of fear of being banned.
I think it's hilarious that you've singled me out as the power mad moderator when I pretty much do less moderating than any other mod on the forums these days. I'd like to get back to helping out more, but I've basically done little else but ban spambots since my mom died last year.
Of course, maybe people have realized that and that's why nobody voted for me.
I think it's hilarious that you've singled me out as the power mad moderator when I pretty much do less moderating than any other mod on the forums these days. I'd like to get back to helping out more, but I've basically done little else but ban spambots since my mom died last year.
Of course, maybe people have realized that and that's why nobody voted for me.
I never said anything about anyone being a power mad mod.
Oh, and thank you for starting the Orson Welles gag.
I think it's hilarious that you've singled me out as the power mad moderator when I pretty much do less moderating than any other mod on the forums these days.
Ah, even the most power mad take time off sometimes. Look at Voldemort. He too 15 years off!
Marsden pulled out a handkerchief and picked up Guru’s glass, the contents of which had spilt upon the floor. He then took his finger and rubbed it around the bottom of the glass, noticing a milky white substance forming around his fingers. He then placed the glass on the table, wiped his finger off, and sat down at the couch. Guru hadn’t been touched by anyone since he died, and froth was still emerging from his mouth. The air of the living room stank of tobacco, alcohol and vomit, which had been some of the contents in the froth. Jennifer stood in a corner, her mascara running down her cheeks.
“This truly puzzles me,” Marsden said.
“What does?” Fawful asked, having been sitting in the recliner beside the corpse.
“The fact that there’s two dead bodies in this house, now?”
“There’s that, and that the poison in this glass in non-fatal.”
The men, who were all sitting in various chairs on the couch, leapt to their feet.
“What do you mean, non-fatal? It’s what killed him, isn’t it?”
“Yes and no. The substance in his drinking class contains part of a binary compound. The only way it would have killed him is if he was already exposed to the other part. How, I don’t know. It might have been the soup he ate for dinner, it might have been that cigar he was smoking earlier, I really don’t know.”
“The butler!” Jennifer shrieked, pointing towards a startled Johnro. “He served dinner! He killed both of them!”
Avistew leapt to her feet.
“How dare you?!”
“He served the soup! He poured the drinks! He is a murderer!”
Marsden grabbed a hold of her.
“He couldn’t have killed Daishi! He was here with you and his wife when we went to find him! You need to calm do—“
“NO! HE’S A KILLER AND HE’S GOING TO KILL US, HE’S A PSYCHOTIC!”
Fawful walked up and slapped her as hard as he could. She gasped immediately, hesitated for a moment as if she could not believe what just happened, and finally settled down. Marsden, however, was furious.
“You son of a bitch, you think you can lay your hands on my wife?!”
“You would have done the same thing. She was going non compos mentis, and we can’t have that in a situation like this!”
Marsden jabbed him in the stomach.
“You dirty bastard,” Fawful coughed, going down on his knees.
“STOP IT!” Jennifer shrieked.
Marsden instead raised his fist and hit Fawful as hard as he could. Fawful went down almost immediately, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.
Coolsome rushed right up to him.
“He’s right, and you know it, you bastard. He just handled a situation you didn’t have the balls to handle yourself, and you go and hit him?”
“Enough of your bullshit, Coolsome. I don’t have to take this from you, or from him, or from anyone here. I’m leaving, and so is my wife.” He grabbed hold of Jennifer’s arm and began to walk from the living room.
Morris and Coolsome leapt in front of him.
“You’re not going anywhere, Marsden,” Coolsome said, “and neither is she. There are two people dead, and seeing as how you just beat the hell out of Fawful, that looks pretty damn suspicious to me.”
“Get out of my way, you little shit.”
Morris stood up straight.
“You’re not leaving this house. If you try, that’ll mean you did it.”
“What?! You’re going to pin this on me? I never killed anyone in my life!”
“Darthington,” Jennifer spoke up, “we can’t leave. Their right.”
“Quiet, Jennifer. Not only will I bring the police, I will be bringing a lawyer. These men can’t harass me like this.”
“You stupid, conceited moron! Look what you did to Fawful!”
“He laid his hands on my wife. What will a jury say to that?”
And with that he burst through and opened the door to leave, with Jennifer in tow. As he made it out the door, he could hear Morris and Coolsome screaming after him, but he didn’t give a shit. He saw himself as the completely innocent one. like what happened five years before that, when he started getting those letters, the ones about him and his secretary, Mrs. Rosebud. She was a tramp, anyway, and that was back when he was still a big drinker. The way he saw it, it wasn’t his fault that she was so attached to him, and that when she realized they couldn’t be together, she threw herself off the roof of tenth division of the state university. As tragic as it was, he never loved her in the first place, and he could always get another secretary.
Never mind the bad memories, he thought.
She climbed into the side of the car, and he realized that he had forgotten his car keys. He told her he’d be back and then turned to head back into the house, to not only get his keys, but to also maybe hit Fawful one more time.
He hadn’t made it more than five feet when the car exploded, sending him down onto his stomach.
He flipped himself over and stared at the inferno with horror, as did everyone else in the house who had heard the explosion and rushed outside, including the now-conscious Fawful.
Marsden shouted his wife’s name and sobbed as he ran toward the car, trying to make himself believe that his car hadn’t just exploded, and that the smoldering corpse in the shotgun seat wasn’t that of his wife. He would’ve jumped into those flames himself if Coolsome and Fawful hadn’t dragged him away and back into the house.
About an hour later, it was now completely dark outside, save for the still burning car outside. Johnro had to give Marsden a shot of morphine to calm him down. At the moment, he was sleeping like a drunk after a night of stowing away bottles of beer.
“How could that have happened,” Avistew cried. “None of us left the house except for them!”
Fawful lit himself a cigarette and placed an icepack over his head. “Someone could have slipped into his car on the way in. For all we know, there’s one in every car outside.”
“Why?” Morris asked, positioning himself in the seat Guru had been sitting in.
“To keep us from leaving. Whoever is doing this, he or she intends to kills us all.”
The room was silent for five minutes.
“I plagiarized ‘Sundown on the Brook.’” Morris said.
Everyone turned to him.
“It was considered to be my greatest work, and it wasn’t even mine. I stole it from my partner, Wilson LePlaya. I paid him thousands of dollars for what he considered to be a piece of garbage.”
“You were being blackmailed for plagiarism?” Coolsome had managed to keep quiet since they put out Marsden.
“Yes. What I charged LePlaya, the blackmailer charged three times more than that. I’m a composer, not Howard-fucking-Hughes. I couldn’t afford the blackmailer’s price, but if it ever got out, not only would it ruin me, I’d go to jail for it.”
He sighed and rested his face in his palms.
“At this point, I just don’t care anymore.”
Fawful exhaled and put out his cigarette in the ashtray beside Morris. Earlier, they had placed Guru’s corpse upstairs in the same room as Daishi, but the imprint of his dead body was still molded in the carpet.
“Well, in that case, I think we should all come clean.”
Coolsome sighed and wiped the sweat off of his forehead.
“I was at a restaurant in Hollywood, about five or six years ago. I met this… this waitress. She was the most beautiful, gentle thing I’d ever seen. I… I’d had a few drinks, I couldn’t help myself. I think… I think the way I’d figured it was that, seeing as how I was a movie star, and she was, well… she was, what looked to me, over eighteen, it would be alright if I invited her back to my hotel room. I think you know what happened after that. That was it, it was only that one night. Anyhow, I found out afterwards from one of the guys at that restaurant that she was a hell of a lot younger than that. I felt… I felt sick to my stomach and I will never stop regretting it. I then heard that she had died in the hospital. During...” Coolsome choked a bit, trying to hold back tears. “… child-birth.”
He then finally let them go. Avistew looked absolutely shocked, but the rest all either hung their heads or were rubbing their eyes and lit another cigarette, took a puff and handed it over to Coolsome. Coolsome wiped his eyes and took the cigarette, puffed a few times, and handed it back to Fawful.
“You know,” Fawful began, “I was telling the absolute truth when I said I had no idea what I was doing here. I was never blackmailed in any way. I guess there’s no real way of knowing.”
Morris leapt to his feet.
“Oh, my God. You did it.”
Fawful spun around in amazement.
“What did you just say?”
“It’s you. You were the only one who wasn’t being blackmailed.”
Coolsome also got on his feet, as did Johnro and Avistew. Marsden wouldn’t be standing for a little while.
Fawful thought they would have been upon him if it weren’t for the banging on the door.
Everyone eyed Fawful for a few seconds. He felt as if they’re eyes were penetrating him, looking right into him and seeing whatever they wanted to see: a killer.
The knocking came again. Morris left the room to go open the door. When he came back five minutes later, he came back with two men in beige trench coats and brown fedoras. Typical dicks looking like something right out of the pulps, one with a beard and chomping a cigar and the other neatly shaven and much more sober looking than the other.
“This is Detective Chyron,” he pointed to clean looking one, “and Detective Davies,” the guy with the cigar.
Chyron pulled a notebook from his pocket a flipped a couple of pages.
“We got a call from here reporting a homicide about two hours ago.”
“Make that three,” Coolsome said.
Davies removed the cigar from his hairy mouth. “What was that? Now theres three stiffs?”
“Yeah,” Johnro said. “The other one’s upstairs with the first one, and the others outside in that smoldering wreck.”
Chyron walked over to Johnro.
“What’s your name?”
“Matthew Johnro.”
“Occupation?”
“I’m the butler.”
“How long you been working here?”
“Four years. My wife, Avistew, is the maid.”
“How long has she been working here?”
“Four years, same as me.”
“Who’s your boss?”
“David Daishi.”
“And what is his occupation.”
“Was, is more like it. He’s dead upstairs.”
“Answer the question, please.”
“He was a doctor. Expert in psychosis and criminology.”
“He make a lot of money?”
“Look around you, this house is huge. So, yes, he made a lot of money.”
The questioning continued to every other person there before they were told to stay put while the detectives went upstairs to check on the bodies. Fawful had been standing in the exact same as he had been, but he was too scared to say anything because of what he was feeling in his pocket. He didn’t know how it got there, but he knew that if he brought it out in the open, it would be damning. Everyone there seemed quite convinced with Morris’ belief, and what he had in his pocket, at that moment, would have been like painting a big red “I DID IT” on your back. You could be blind and drunk, you would still know that what was in your pocket was a loaded gun.
Comments
Come on fella, you're losing your head!
I just voted Marsden anyway,I know you'll slip up,I'm always watching.
Come on I was kidding....or was I?
That's what I'm doing outside his window right now.
Squelch squelch squelch...
How about an MP5?
Oh yes... your... "lightsaber"...
Do we need to leave you two alone?
Oh no ... the more the better.
I'll choose him since I've already been banned like 69 times.
Jokes on them cos every time I get banned a heavenly choir sings the Sailor Moon theme song to mods non stop for 23 weeks.
Winning love by daylight
Never running from a real fight
She is the one named Sailor Moon
She will never turn her back on a friend
She is always there to defend
She is the one on whom we can depend
She is the one named Sailor...
Sailor Venus
Sailor Mercury
Sailor Mars
Sailor Jupiter
With secret powers
All so new to her
She is the one named Sailor Moon
Fighting evil by moonlight
Winning love by daylight
With her Sailor Scouts to help fight
She is the one named Sailor Moon
She is the one named Sailor Moon
She is the one Sailor Moon
Yeah. You prefer Tokyo Mew Mew.
I think it's hilarious that you've singled me out as the power mad moderator when I pretty much do less moderating than any other mod on the forums these days. I'd like to get back to helping out more, but I've basically done little else but ban spambots since my mom died last year.
Of course, maybe people have realized that and that's why nobody voted for me.
Oh, and...
...whatever your name was.
I never said anything about anyone being a power mad mod.
Oh, and thank you for starting the Orson Welles gag.
Ah, those were the times, weren't they?
Ah, even the most power mad take time off sometimes. Look at Voldemort. He too 15 years off!
Yes, I am likening you to the Dark Lord.
Although I will get a cool scar in the shape of a banhammer. Or the shape of a banana.
It was you! Johnny English saw the whole thing.
Der!
“This truly puzzles me,” Marsden said.
“What does?” Fawful asked, having been sitting in the recliner beside the corpse.
“The fact that there’s two dead bodies in this house, now?”
“There’s that, and that the poison in this glass in non-fatal.”
The men, who were all sitting in various chairs on the couch, leapt to their feet.
“What do you mean, non-fatal? It’s what killed him, isn’t it?”
“Yes and no. The substance in his drinking class contains part of a binary compound. The only way it would have killed him is if he was already exposed to the other part. How, I don’t know. It might have been the soup he ate for dinner, it might have been that cigar he was smoking earlier, I really don’t know.”
“The butler!” Jennifer shrieked, pointing towards a startled Johnro. “He served dinner! He killed both of them!”
Avistew leapt to her feet.
“How dare you?!”
“He served the soup! He poured the drinks! He is a murderer!”
Marsden grabbed a hold of her.
“He couldn’t have killed Daishi! He was here with you and his wife when we went to find him! You need to calm do—“
“NO! HE’S A KILLER AND HE’S GOING TO KILL US, HE’S A PSYCHOTIC!”
Fawful walked up and slapped her as hard as he could. She gasped immediately, hesitated for a moment as if she could not believe what just happened, and finally settled down. Marsden, however, was furious.
“You son of a bitch, you think you can lay your hands on my wife?!”
“You would have done the same thing. She was going non compos mentis, and we can’t have that in a situation like this!”
Marsden jabbed him in the stomach.
“You dirty bastard,” Fawful coughed, going down on his knees.
“STOP IT!” Jennifer shrieked.
Marsden instead raised his fist and hit Fawful as hard as he could. Fawful went down almost immediately, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.
Coolsome rushed right up to him.
“He’s right, and you know it, you bastard. He just handled a situation you didn’t have the balls to handle yourself, and you go and hit him?”
“Enough of your bullshit, Coolsome. I don’t have to take this from you, or from him, or from anyone here. I’m leaving, and so is my wife.” He grabbed hold of Jennifer’s arm and began to walk from the living room.
Morris and Coolsome leapt in front of him.
“You’re not going anywhere, Marsden,” Coolsome said, “and neither is she. There are two people dead, and seeing as how you just beat the hell out of Fawful, that looks pretty damn suspicious to me.”
“Get out of my way, you little shit.”
Morris stood up straight.
“You’re not leaving this house. If you try, that’ll mean you did it.”
“What?! You’re going to pin this on me? I never killed anyone in my life!”
“Darthington,” Jennifer spoke up, “we can’t leave. Their right.”
“Quiet, Jennifer. Not only will I bring the police, I will be bringing a lawyer. These men can’t harass me like this.”
“You stupid, conceited moron! Look what you did to Fawful!”
“He laid his hands on my wife. What will a jury say to that?”
And with that he burst through and opened the door to leave, with Jennifer in tow. As he made it out the door, he could hear Morris and Coolsome screaming after him, but he didn’t give a shit. He saw himself as the completely innocent one. like what happened five years before that, when he started getting those letters, the ones about him and his secretary, Mrs. Rosebud. She was a tramp, anyway, and that was back when he was still a big drinker. The way he saw it, it wasn’t his fault that she was so attached to him, and that when she realized they couldn’t be together, she threw herself off the roof of tenth division of the state university. As tragic as it was, he never loved her in the first place, and he could always get another secretary.
Never mind the bad memories, he thought.
She climbed into the side of the car, and he realized that he had forgotten his car keys. He told her he’d be back and then turned to head back into the house, to not only get his keys, but to also maybe hit Fawful one more time.
He hadn’t made it more than five feet when the car exploded, sending him down onto his stomach.
He flipped himself over and stared at the inferno with horror, as did everyone else in the house who had heard the explosion and rushed outside, including the now-conscious Fawful.
Marsden shouted his wife’s name and sobbed as he ran toward the car, trying to make himself believe that his car hadn’t just exploded, and that the smoldering corpse in the shotgun seat wasn’t that of his wife. He would’ve jumped into those flames himself if Coolsome and Fawful hadn’t dragged him away and back into the house.
About an hour later, it was now completely dark outside, save for the still burning car outside. Johnro had to give Marsden a shot of morphine to calm him down. At the moment, he was sleeping like a drunk after a night of stowing away bottles of beer.
“How could that have happened,” Avistew cried. “None of us left the house except for them!”
Fawful lit himself a cigarette and placed an icepack over his head. “Someone could have slipped into his car on the way in. For all we know, there’s one in every car outside.”
“Why?” Morris asked, positioning himself in the seat Guru had been sitting in.
“To keep us from leaving. Whoever is doing this, he or she intends to kills us all.”
The room was silent for five minutes.
“I plagiarized ‘Sundown on the Brook.’” Morris said.
Everyone turned to him.
“It was considered to be my greatest work, and it wasn’t even mine. I stole it from my partner, Wilson LePlaya. I paid him thousands of dollars for what he considered to be a piece of garbage.”
“You were being blackmailed for plagiarism?” Coolsome had managed to keep quiet since they put out Marsden.
“Yes. What I charged LePlaya, the blackmailer charged three times more than that. I’m a composer, not Howard-fucking-Hughes. I couldn’t afford the blackmailer’s price, but if it ever got out, not only would it ruin me, I’d go to jail for it.”
He sighed and rested his face in his palms.
“At this point, I just don’t care anymore.”
Fawful exhaled and put out his cigarette in the ashtray beside Morris. Earlier, they had placed Guru’s corpse upstairs in the same room as Daishi, but the imprint of his dead body was still molded in the carpet.
“Well, in that case, I think we should all come clean.”
Coolsome sighed and wiped the sweat off of his forehead.
“I was at a restaurant in Hollywood, about five or six years ago. I met this… this waitress. She was the most beautiful, gentle thing I’d ever seen. I… I’d had a few drinks, I couldn’t help myself. I think… I think the way I’d figured it was that, seeing as how I was a movie star, and she was, well… she was, what looked to me, over eighteen, it would be alright if I invited her back to my hotel room. I think you know what happened after that. That was it, it was only that one night. Anyhow, I found out afterwards from one of the guys at that restaurant that she was a hell of a lot younger than that. I felt… I felt sick to my stomach and I will never stop regretting it. I then heard that she had died in the hospital. During...” Coolsome choked a bit, trying to hold back tears. “… child-birth.”
He then finally let them go. Avistew looked absolutely shocked, but the rest all either hung their heads or were rubbing their eyes and lit another cigarette, took a puff and handed it over to Coolsome. Coolsome wiped his eyes and took the cigarette, puffed a few times, and handed it back to Fawful.
“You know,” Fawful began, “I was telling the absolute truth when I said I had no idea what I was doing here. I was never blackmailed in any way. I guess there’s no real way of knowing.”
Morris leapt to his feet.
“Oh, my God. You did it.”
Fawful spun around in amazement.
“What did you just say?”
“It’s you. You were the only one who wasn’t being blackmailed.”
Coolsome also got on his feet, as did Johnro and Avistew. Marsden wouldn’t be standing for a little while.
Fawful thought they would have been upon him if it weren’t for the banging on the door.
Everyone eyed Fawful for a few seconds. He felt as if they’re eyes were penetrating him, looking right into him and seeing whatever they wanted to see: a killer.
The knocking came again. Morris left the room to go open the door. When he came back five minutes later, he came back with two men in beige trench coats and brown fedoras. Typical dicks looking like something right out of the pulps, one with a beard and chomping a cigar and the other neatly shaven and much more sober looking than the other.
“This is Detective Chyron,” he pointed to clean looking one, “and Detective Davies,” the guy with the cigar.
Chyron pulled a notebook from his pocket a flipped a couple of pages.
“We got a call from here reporting a homicide about two hours ago.”
“Make that three,” Coolsome said.
Davies removed the cigar from his hairy mouth. “What was that? Now theres three stiffs?”
“Yeah,” Johnro said. “The other one’s upstairs with the first one, and the others outside in that smoldering wreck.”
Chyron walked over to Johnro.
“What’s your name?”
“Matthew Johnro.”
“Occupation?”
“I’m the butler.”
“How long you been working here?”
“Four years. My wife, Avistew, is the maid.”
“How long has she been working here?”
“Four years, same as me.”
“Who’s your boss?”
“David Daishi.”
“And what is his occupation.”
“Was, is more like it. He’s dead upstairs.”
“Answer the question, please.”
“He was a doctor. Expert in psychosis and criminology.”
“He make a lot of money?”
“Look around you, this house is huge. So, yes, he made a lot of money.”
The questioning continued to every other person there before they were told to stay put while the detectives went upstairs to check on the bodies. Fawful had been standing in the exact same as he had been, but he was too scared to say anything because of what he was feeling in his pocket. He didn’t know how it got there, but he knew that if he brought it out in the open, it would be damning. Everyone there seemed quite convinced with Morris’ belief, and what he had in his pocket, at that moment, would have been like painting a big red “I DID IT” on your back. You could be blind and drunk, you would still know that what was in your pocket was a loaded gun.
To Be Continued…
It was Solid Snake!
Party!