A Very Verbwhore Xmas

[Jemble Fred]

Or: Another lead balloon bullshit-writing thread by Jemble. The title makes no sense, but then Xmas titles don't, as a rule. This here's the Multimongia Advent Calendar. Ever VW who cares to can add a single post for each day leading up to December the 25th (correct!). Doesn't matter what it is – a playscript, a poem, a bit of prose. As long as it ties in with the previous post, to create one big glorious mess come Xmas Day. Try and leave each post so it's easy for the next cunt to pick up from. If you wanna. Go on.



A VERY VERBWHORE XMAS

DECEMBER THE FIRST

Jesus was dead, to begin with. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of pretty much anything. Jesus was as dead as a doornail. Yet still in the busy streets of Cramlington, simple folk pelled and melled pell-mell from shop to shop looking for chocolates fit to mark the deceased Jewish man's birthday. Little did they know, or care, that all the chocolates in town had one man's name on them...

A hundred miles away, on the icy island of Merry Happy Tinsel Town, a funny little figure sat in his tumbledown toadstool house, sucking on a pixie pipe and chortling to himself. Who was this ruddy-cheeked, twistle-toed little hobgoblin figure?

[TJ]

Meanwhile, over at the Verbwhores Christmas London Meet, things were in full swing.


I'm a jiiiiiiive sucka, a jive sucka baby, I'm a jive sucker for your love

The relentless cheesy disco rhythms pounded out as Purple Tentacle, Tom Rad and That Bloke sat silently at a table musing over their plans for Christmas. A change of mood. Gangsta rap.

yo marco, chill marco, chill yo chill
You actin up like someone off tha bill
i got twenty one years of the two ronnies

Nor did they react when Almost Yearly leapt up from a neighbouring table, shouting "oooo me favourite!" and racing to the dancefloor as he heard the opening strains of 'Everybody's Doing The Cram'. They stared silently, gloomily, miserably at each other. And then Purple Tentacle heard the distant sound of sleigh bells, mixed with raised voices arguing about the difference between "jam" and "jaaaaam"...

[Jemble Fred]

Where's Cerys when we need her? Ah well, tomorrow is another day.

[Jemble Fred]

[Sorry for the mega-bump Neil.

Is CaB ready for another one of these? Can it be sustained? Let's give it a try, and if we can have something intelligible by mid-December we can have a special Book At Bedtime for CaB radio at Xmas.

New rule – ignore the rules in the first post. This is now 'I HAVE FORTY TWO WORDS' – try and continue the Xmassy story in exactly 42 words a post. That's about the size of it. If it founders... I'll live. This is only writer's procrastination anyway...]


A VERY VERBWHORE XMAS CONT.

Everyone had a simply lovely time, and when the meet ended, most of the Verbwhores, who hadn't fallen by the wayside, had to try and find their way back to Cramlington, where the mysterious ruddy-cheeked cunt previously mentioned was still chuckling enigmatically.

[SetToStun]

Chuckling because he had Father Christmas safely locked up in the broom cupboard and had no intention of letting the jolly old boy out until after the big day, the utter cunt. Who could save the day? Only the poster known as...

[steven583699]

SetToStun. With powers of saving festive figures only surpassed by those of saving threads, he swung into action. Setting his lasergun 5000 to 'Kill', he kicked down the door of evil and power rolled into the front room of death and destruction.

[Blue Jam]

What's going on here?

[steven583699]

What's going on here?

Hmmm, it is kind of difficult to follow JF. Maybe a new thread where we just copy and paste the 3 relevant posts in is needed?

[ziggy starbucks]

Realising that he had broken into the wrong house, our imbecilic hero apologised repeatedly whilst picking up bits of broken crockery. He only realised after he left the house that he had killed 2 old women and a dog with his deathray.

[actwithoutwords]

"You set me up, Starbucks", he cursed to himself as he poured the viscous remains of the 2 old ladies into a tin of Werther's Originals, wrapped it with a bow and put it under the Christmas tree. "Nobody will ever open..."

[ziggy starbucks]

"this tin of Werther's Originals full of dead old women", SetToSun proclaimed "old women taste like shite". Breathing a sigh of relief, our hero once again stepped into the cold night to search for the stolen Father Christmas with the big boobies.

[rudi]

Using boobies of any size ultimately proved useless to search for thieved mythical men,; so the idea was swiftly abandoned.

Giving old Santa up for dead it was decided a referendum would be held to choose which Verbwhore should thenceforth represent Christmas...

[actwithoutwords]

Rudi was swiftly excluded from the ballot, for he had just usurped a much funnier continuation of ziggy's story by an unnamed poster. The only problem was finding someone with facial hair that wasn't a goatee. After a swooning post by explodingvinyl...

[Jemble Fred]

it was decided that Mr Etiquette, a poster who had yet to say anything at all, but was most decidedly THERE, should be the chosen one to lead the way and follow the shining rats back to Cramlington.

However, Blue Jam insisted

_{[Sorry for any confusion – the idea is continue the Xmas story in exactly 42 words per post. Didn't think it was complicated... I did, however, think it was a no-go for CaB these days – these threads used to thrive due to me, TJ and Cerys mainly. And there's only me left.]}

[alan nagsworth]

...that her extensive scientific research should not be ignored. For as it happens, the rotund one was not outside in the big wide world, but trapped inside the information superhighway, specifically inside a little-known forum, in the clutches of the evil...

[Jemble Fred]

Baron Silas Greenback from Dangermouse, who was real and not just a cartoon like what everyone had thought for decades, including the people who created, drew and voiced him.

Oh yeah, and it was Xmas and that shit. And Greenback fucking LOVED

[ziggy starbucks]

reading Blue Jam's biological research papers, especially the one's where she tried to prove that frogs and salmonella are genetically superior to Jews. Blue Jam's brave attempts to revive nazi eugenics were met with suspicion from colleagues but Baron Greenback admired the

[Baxter]

subtle way she'd tried to 'Wedge' her utterly insane outdated dogma into a credible scientific framework. Such work in the past had given rise to monstrous pseudo-scientific conspiracy theories, it's rebuttal would have to be handled carefully, and he knew the man for the job.

[ziggy starbucks]

However that man, Father Christmas, was still missing. The only man available was Ricky Gervais, whose crass handing of the eugenics debate single-handedly resulted in 4 million people immediately signing up to the BNP. Ricky's protests that his pro-eugenics diatribe was ironic

[steven583699]

...fell on deaf ears, or would have done if Gervais' crusade hadn't covinced the government to commit genocide on all deaf people. All that could be done was recall reluctant hero SetToStun to rectify the situation and appease the increasing racial tension.

[boxofslice]

and valiant verbwhores continued their search for missing Pater Christmas and knowing that only true understanding of the 25th of December comes from eating the fabled Xmas tree of the north, they set off with knife and fork in hand to find and consume said tree. The journey of a 1,000 miles began with one step that was to prove a mistake...

[ziggy starbucks]

...fell on deaf ears, or would have done if Gervais' crusade hadn't covinced the government to commit genocide on all deaf people. All that could be done was recall reluctant hero SetToStun to rectify the situation and appease the increasing racial tension.

But SetToSun turned out to be no hero. He got a job with the government extermination ministry and rounded up his verbwhore friends in a betrayal that would mark him out as one of the worst humans ever to have lived. The


^{boxofslice's effort was 62 words long and not related to anything that anybody had said. he is worse than hitler}

[boxofslice]

^{boxofslice's effort was 62 words long and not related to anything that anybody had said. he is worse than hitler}

Its true i am worse than Hitler, i've killed 10 million Jews... in only 6 months. I think maybe i've misunderstood this then. I'll go away and come back tomorrow. Sorry.

[Blue Jam]

Ah bugger, I thought this was a picture thread. Fuck it, I still want to be the first to post:



A PAIR OF FECKIN' WOMEN'S KNICKERS

[Jemble Fred]

^{[Ah, sod the 42 words rule – let's just tell a fucking story for the kids at Christmastide.}

A VERY VERBWHORE XMAS

DECEMBER THE FIRST

Jesus was dead, to begin with. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of pretty much anything. Jesus was as dead as a doornail. Yet still in the busy streets of Cramlington, simple folk pelled and melled pell-mell from shop to shop looking for chocolates fit to mark the deceased Jewish man's birthday. Little did they know, or care, that all the chocolates in town had one man's name on them...

A hundred miles away, on the icy island of Merry Happy Tinsel Town, a funny little figure sat in his tumbledown toadstool house, sucking on a pixie pipe and chortling to himself. Who was this ruddy-cheeked, twistle-toed little hobgoblin figure?

***

Meanwhile, over at the Verbwhores Christmas London Meet, things were in full swing.


I'm a jiiiiiiive sucka, a jive sucka baby, I'm a jive sucker for your love

The relentless cheesy disco rhythms pounded out as Purple Tentacle, Tom Rad and That Bloke sat silently at a table musing over their plans for Christmas. A change of mood. Gangsta rap.

yo marco, chill marco, chill yo chill
You actin up like someone off tha bill
i got twenty one years of the two ronnies

Nor did they react when Almost Yearly leapt up from a neighbouring table, shouting "oooo me favourite!" and racing to the dancefloor as he heard the opening strains of 'Everybody's Doing The Cram'. They stared silently, gloomily, miserably at each other. And then Purple Tentacle heard the distant sound of sleigh bells, mixed with raised voices arguing about the difference between "jam" and "jaaaaam"...

Everyone had a simply lovely time, and when the meet ended, most of the Verbwhores, who hadn't fallen by the wayside, had to try and find their way back to Cramlington, where the mysterious ruddy-cheeked cunt previously mentioned was still chuckling enigmatically. Chuckling because he had Father Christmas safely locked up in the broom cupboard and had no intention of letting the jolly old boy out until after the big day, the utter cunt. Who could save the day? Only the poster known as... SetToStun. With powers of saving festive figures only surpassed by those of saving threads, he swung into action. Setting his lasergun 5000 to 'Kill', he kicked down the door of evil and power rolled into the front room of death and destruction. Realising that he had broken into the wrong house, our imbecilic hero apologised repeatedly whilst picking up bits of broken crockery. He only realised after he left the house that he had killed 2 old women and a dog with his deathray.

"You set me up, Starbucks", he cursed to himself as he poured the viscous remains of the 2 old ladies into a tin of Werther's Originals, wrapped it with a bow and put it under the Christmas tree. "Nobody will ever open this tin of Werther's Originals full of dead old women", SetToSun proclaimed "old women taste like shite". Breathing a sigh of relief, our hero once again stepped into the cold night to search for the stolen Father Christmas with the big boobies. Using boobies of any size ultimately proved useless to search for thieved mythical men,; so the idea was swiftly abandoned.

Giving old Santa up for dead it was decided a referendum would be held to choose which Verbwhore should thenceforth represent Christmas. Rudi was swiftly excluded from the ballot, for he had just usurped a much funnier continuation of ziggy's story by an unnamed poster. The only problem was finding someone with facial hair that wasn't a goatee. After a swooning post by explodingvinyl, it was decided that Mr Etiquette, a poster who had yet to say anything at all, but was most decidedly THERE, should be the chosen one to lead the way and follow the shining rats back to Cramlington.

However, Blue Jam insisted that her extensive scientific research should not be ignored. For as it happens, the rotund one was not outside in the big wide world, but trapped inside the information superhighway, specifically inside a little-known forum, in the clutches of the evil Baron Silas Greenback from Dangermouse, who was real and not just a cartoon like what everyone had thought for decades, including the people who created, drew and voiced him.

Oh yeah, and it was Xmas and that shit. And Greenback fucking LOVED reading Blue Jam's biological research papers, especially the one's where she tried to prove that frogs and salmonella are genetically superior to Jews. Blue Jam's brave attempts to revive nazi eugenics were met with suspicion from colleagues but Baron Greenback admired the subtle way she'd tried to 'Wedge' her utterly insane outdated dogma into a credible scientific framework. Such work in the past had given rise to monstrous pseudo-scientific conspiracy theories, it's rebuttal would have to be handled carefully, and he knew the man for the job.

However that man, Father Christmas, was still missing. The only man available was Ricky Gervais, whose crass handing of the eugenics debate single-handedly resulted in 4 million people immediately signing up to the BNP. Ricky's protests that his pro-eugenics diatribe was ironic fell on deaf ears, or would have done if Gervais' crusade hadn't covinced the government to commit genocide on all deaf people. All that could be done was recall reluctant hero SetToStun to rectify the situation and appease the increasing racial tension.

But SetToSun turned out to be no hero. He got a job with the government extermination ministry and rounded up his verbwhore friends in a betrayal that would mark him out as one of the worst humans ever to have lived. The lucky thing was they were rounded up onto an open-topped bendy bus headed right for the town of Cramlington.

And so the stupid and valiant Verbwhores continued their search for missing Pater Christmas and knowing that only true understanding of the 25th of December comes from eating the fabled Xmas tree of the north, they set off with knife and fork in hand to find and consume said tree. The journey of a 1,000 miles began with one step that was to prove a mistake...

[Jemble Fred]

^{[OH, COCKS THEN.
Recent CaB shouts:
ziggy starbucks
Today at 02:28:00 AM
I'd like to deal jemblefred a blow.
actwithoutwords
Today at 12:56:29 AM
Hang jemfred, hang him high. I'm boycotting the thread in the meantime. Take that nestlé, i mean jemble.
ziggy starbucks
Yesterday at 11:22:29 PM
Posts longer or shorter than 42 words means that any attempt to post will be useless. Someone else will have got in ahead of you with a 3 worder
steven583699
Yesterday at 11:20:44 PM
I'M WITH ZIGGY.
(also you pasted my second post in twice, JF)
ziggy starbucks
Yesterday at 11:18:28 PM
bring back the 42 word rule or else!
So the 42 word rule stays by vaguely popular demand. I miss TJ, he used to get these threads right...]}

... And a squelchy step it was. The gut-liquidising squelch of the golden rat beneath Nagsworth's foot as he followed the rats up to Cramlington, and the party continued on the bendy-bus, was a harbinger of nastiness to come. With the golden rat

[steven583699]

...nicely stewing away in the pot, the party continued onwards. Being a 1,000 miles from Cramlington, the natural choice was to first leave their native Poland. "Jendobray!" They cried as crowds of Poles waved goodbye to what they thought were Neo Nazis.

[ziggy starbucks]

Unfortunately they weren't waving goodbye to neo-nazis, they were waving goodbye to neo-pasties, the tasty meat future of hot pastries. The neo-pasty industry was to revitalise the polish economy and result in East-European global economic dominance. The party had unwittingly left utopia

[Jemble Fred]

and were snaking their way through the backstreets of Bruges, all keeping themselves warm with thoughts of Christmastide. Back in Cramlington the trees were resplendent with candy cocks and silver teeth, and the gentle sound of sleighbongos drifted enticingly on the Winter

[ziggy starbucks]

snow. Cramlington was usually a happy place at this time of year, with the joy of yuletide reducing broken bottle stabbings by 95% and domestic slavery by 47%. However this year the local people could tell that something was wrong, with many