Wolf O'Donnell | Star FoxbutimbetterAugust 15 2011, 06:26:20 UTC
You are WOLF O'DONNELL, and today is another AWESOME day in your life as a galaxy-renowned criminal! Of course, it's not quite as AWESOME as it could be. Your rival team, STAR FOX, has been muscling into your territory. Time to teach those pups a lesson! Your darling WOLFEN is waiting in the nearby HANGAR for deployment. You could get the jump on them now...
Or you could CALL YOUR FRIENDS for backup. Surely they'd be ready and willing to aid in your cause?
Or you could just SCREW THE RULES and head down to SARGASSO to get HILARIOUSLY DRUNK. What do you do?
Soul meets soul in a tender entwining of limbs. You suddenly feel the urge to whisper SWEET NOTHINGS in STAR FOX's ear and whisk him away on a MAJESTIC STALLION. There would also likely be DOUBLE RAINBOWS involved.
...but that's pretty fucking gay. Are you sure you want to go through with all this? Your MANLY HUG is lingering a little too long now.
>realize that you have too many differences for a relationship to truly blossom between you and STAR FOX. raging sexual chemistry and rampant (closeted) homosexuality will not be enough to bridge the gap|
>pussy out and use this opportunity to end STAR FOX once and for all|
BANG, BANG! You pull out your trusty laser bayonet and SHOOT STAR FOX through the heart! But he's ultimately to blame for this. He's given love a bad name, after all!
Inspired by this grisly murder, you go on to slay all your future lovers for the sheer thrill, because it's less cock-munchingly gay that way and also because you're one sick son of a bitch.
WOLF O'DONNELL has gained the title "Balls Not Touching"! Your morality has shifted to Chaotic Evil! But at least you still donate anonymously to POOR CRIPPLED ORPHANS CHARITY. That's what really counts, right?
And to think, none of this would've happened if you hopped in that good-for-nothing WOLFEN. You live out the rest of your life as WOLF O'DONNELL, galaxy-renowned criminal and deadly prostitute.
You SCREW 'EM good and hard, man. Good and hard. You didn't even leave them your name and number afterwords! Acquired METAPHORICAL BONER!
Somehow, you're now at SARGASSO, illegal space colony and the closest thing you've got to home. The HOT BARTENDER is giving you BEDROOM EYES while polishing the glass in her hands suggestively, while the rest of the room is glaring at your back. You may be popular with the ladies here (and some of the men), but pretty much everyone who doesn't kowtow to your greatness hates your guts. Do you proceed to:
(G)ive zero fucks and order the most expensive drink available on their tab (H)it on HOT BARTENDER just to piss them off even more (M)arch over to their table and start a RAUCOUS BARFIGHT (H)ead to the lone piano in the corner and play the furry version of Frank Sinatra music
Yeah, good call on that one. You sorta misjudged the fact that TANKS are FUCKIN' HUGE and wind up squashing yourself instead.
You have lost a LIFE! LIVES REMAINING: 1.
Disregarding the impossibility of somehow surviving SEVERAL TONS OF REINFORCED STEEL BEING DROPPED ON YOUR HEAD (though your new "friends" weren't so lucky), you notice that HOT BARTENDER has now called what functions as security around here. Better blow this popsicle stand, chief.
You're now OUTSIDE OF THE BAR, which has a sizable hole in it. Your BADASS SCOUTER which doubles as a BLUETOOTH PHONE starts to ring. Or buzz. Or whatever it does.
Or you could CALL YOUR FRIENDS for backup. Surely they'd be ready and willing to aid in your cause?
Or you could just SCREW THE RULES and head down to SARGASSO to get HILARIOUSLY DRUNK. What do you do?
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...but that's pretty fucking gay. Are you sure you want to go through with all this? Your MANLY HUG is lingering a little too long now.
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>pussy out and use this opportunity to end STAR FOX once and for all|
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Inspired by this grisly murder, you go on to slay all your future lovers for the sheer thrill, because it's less cock-munchingly gay that way and also because you're one sick son of a bitch.
WOLF O'DONNELL has gained the title "Balls Not Touching"! Your morality has shifted to Chaotic Evil! But at least you still donate anonymously to POOR CRIPPLED ORPHANS CHARITY. That's what really counts, right?
And to think, none of this would've happened if you hopped in that good-for-nothing WOLFEN. You live out the rest of your life as WOLF O'DONNELL, galaxy-renowned criminal and deadly prostitute.
THE END.
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[she turns off the computer and solemnly swears to stick to facebook and twitter for the rest of her life.]
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> screw them
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Somehow, you're now at SARGASSO, illegal space colony and the closest thing you've got to home. The HOT BARTENDER is giving you BEDROOM EYES while polishing the glass in her hands suggestively, while the rest of the room is glaring at your back. You may be popular with the ladies here (and some of the men), but pretty much everyone who doesn't kowtow to your greatness hates your guts. Do you proceed to:
(G)ive zero fucks and order the most expensive drink available on their tab
(H)it on HOT BARTENDER just to piss them off even more
(M)arch over to their table and start a RAUCOUS BARFIGHT
(H)ead to the lone piano in the corner and play the furry version of Frank Sinatra music
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SMACK!
Apparently not.
You have lost a LIFE! LIVES REMAINING: 2.
What would you like to do now? You can hear those assholes from earlier snickering behind you...
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Or show them NO MERCY, GRAB the mysterious SHINY SPHERE that's suddenly descended before you, and drop a fuckin' TANK on their PEABRAINS?
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> do it anyway
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You have lost a LIFE! LIVES REMAINING: 1.
Disregarding the impossibility of somehow surviving SEVERAL TONS OF REINFORCED STEEL BEING DROPPED ON YOUR HEAD (though your new "friends" weren't so lucky), you notice that HOT BARTENDER has now called what functions as security around here. Better blow this popsicle stand, chief.
You're now OUTSIDE OF THE BAR, which has a sizable hole in it. Your BADASS SCOUTER which doubles as a BLUETOOTH PHONE starts to ring. Or buzz. Or whatever it does.
Do you ANSWER IT, or go on EXPLORING the colony?
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