Memories of the Fantastical Kind

[satyrlovesong]

If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now (even if we don't speak often or ever) please post a comment with a completely made up, fictional memory of you and me. It can be anything you want - good or bad - but it has to be fake. When you're finished, post this little paragraph in your LJ and see what your friends come up with!

Comments

[whalejudge]

The black dragon wheeled over head and dove again, jaws gaping. Satyr incanted quickly, fumbling for the bat guano, hoping to get her spell off. I, out of spells, reached for my wand. The dragon grew closer and closer, the bellows of its chest preparing to breathe its acidic stream when Satyr's fireball exploded in its mouth and my lightning bolt danced along its scales. The dragon nearly knocked Satyr over as it fell twitching to the ground. We looked at each other, smiled, and started looking for that dragon's hoard.

[satyrlovesong]

*squee*

But what in the blue blazes were two MUs doing out fighting dragons without any fighter or clerical support? Oh, I bet the fighters failed their "save vs spell" on the dragon aura and ran in abject fear.

[whalejudge]

You answered that question. I must say that the other ones who answered you have sort of dull memories...no wonder you forgot... :-)

[ribbin]

Hehehe, remember Kim and Paul's wedding when the skydiver landed on the cake? My god, he was embarrassed!

[satyrlovesong]

Yeah, but he got over it when the bridesmaids wanted to lick frosting off of him.

[satyrlovesong]

SPF 451 baby! And the outfit was all part of my plan to beat the Russians - and it worked, damn it! You won.

[akumadaimyo]

Remember when we fought off the horde of zombie ninja? Good times.

[satyrlovesong]

God, it took WEEKS to get the stench of zimbie out of my jacket. Remind me to bring some zombie repellent next time, ok?

[mackenzie]

I remember when we first met. I was walking down the hallway, and I slipped on a patch of water while I was waving to you. Well, we thought it was water, but as you helped me up and I wiped myself off, I felt the sticky feel of blood and the cloying smell of copper.

You blinked, surprised. I grimaced, disgusted. We turned to look at the puddle behind me, with its murky trail leading into the restroom.

"We have to help. Someone could be hurt!" you said.
"We can't," I replied, sadly. "That's the men's room."

[satyrlovesong]

"Like you've never seen a dick before? Come on, MacKenzie, get up and help me. You *do* know first aid, right?"

We pushed through the door, and saw blood splattered everywhere. And Mr. Jones, the shop teacher, was methodically dismembering the chess team, muttering "Shop class is for retards, eh? I'll show you!"

Discretion being the better part of valor, we left him to his work.