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Xangles  >  Blorkk  >  AREA 51  >  Depth 6

depth 6


    -'Ey Joe.

    -'Ey Mark.  Hey Brett.
    -Hey Jowawawait.  Wha-- What the hell are you wearing?
    -Joe, is that a tank to--
    -Wha?  Oh.  They had a bunch of them real cheap at that new place in the center.
    -It's gay.
    -It was on sale.
    -But it... it's lavender.
    -Nahh, it's purple.  I'm like a pumped Barney the Dinosaur.
    -'Eezright, Joe, it's defin'ly lilacky.
    -Defin'ly.  Defin'ly lilacky.
    -Don't mock my bubblegum slur.  And I bet lilacky's a word somewhere.  I bet the wholesale lavender tank sales guys use it all the time.  Oh yah I forgot Joe, that cute singing telegram kid dropped by again for you with some petunias, they're in the basement next to your favorite lawn mower.
    -I picked up the pizza Mark.  Did you say mushrooms or dead best friend body chunks?
    -Even if it was purple, that's just as gay as lilac, Joe.  It wasn't the purple power drinks and steroid pills that got Tinky Winky named official top gay teletubbie mascot of--
    -Powerade, not power drink.  How many energy drinks come in purple?
    -I had a purple energy drink once.
    -Have you ever had a purple steroid pill?
    -Well, I got drunk once and downed a couple viagra pills instead of the wellbutrin I was reaching for.  Does that count?
    -Maybe.
    -Look, if my macho soldier camo doesn't clash the lavender enough to sedate you, you can either sign a petition to evict me from the apartment for movie night, or chug your inferior masculinity and watch the movie I rented.
    -Does'e mean chuck?
    -Dunno.  I only got up to "clash the lavender" and gave up bothering as usual.
    -Some things you just gotta accept about people.
    -
Joe, what movie did you pick up?
    -I forget now.  Your cruel psychotherapudic attack on my sociopathic butch grammar has hypnotized me into the cruel lavender allergy traumas of my inner child youth.
    -I'm not touching that one.
    -I'd give it a shot if I didn't have to explain the difference between grammar and usage first.
    -When are we going to watch this thing?
    -You know, I was actually allergic to lilacs.  A kid once pushed me in a lilac bush for calling his mom a slut.  I thought the nurse was joking about injecting him with a cure for middle school testosterone but then I realized she was talking about me.
    -Maybe I should give you the tank, then.
    -So what movie already?  I thought we agreed on 24 last week.
    -Nah, better.  I got that new alien shit you were talkin' about the other day.
    -Joe, I was saying how bad the reviews were, I didn't say go rent it.
    -Too late.  We gonna watch it or what?
    -Joe, I don't think I'm gonna stay for this.
    -It's your apartment.  Besides, you might get a kiss from a gay flower boy.
    -I really hope our writer for the night is gay, otherwise a hyperspacial activists rights swat team is probably heading for the apartment as we speak.
    -Mark what the hell are you talking about?
    -Brett was saying that everywhere we go, from some point of view out there in all the vast universe, someone's actually writing our conversation as we speak.  Like our whole movie night is a skit or something on a low-hit website.
    -I bet my writer's gay.  That would explain a whole ton of shit in my life.
    -No argument.
    -We gonna watch this or what?  Brett?
    -I don't really care.
    -Mark?
    -Whatever.  Put it on.  If it's bad enough we can get drunk and pretend that's why it sucks.  There better be a really hot !@#$ing chick in this.  Preferably two.
    -It's a sci-fi movie.  It's nerd shit.
    -Yah but nerds need to fantasize about hot chicks more than the rest of us.  Right Brett?
    -Touche, Mark.  Touche.
    -Joe, did you remember to pick up the beer?
    -Aw, shit.  Sorry Mark.  All I got was some lavender pina coladas.
    -Anyway there aren't too many female protagonists.  I mean, Part of the sci-fi/fantasy fantasy is pretending you're the main hero.  A theoretical physics major can't really escape from reality in a...
    -Lilac tank?
    -No.
    -You were gonna say lilac tank, weren't you.  But then you held back, because you knew if you made one more top joke around me--seeing how you think I've never made a clever one myself--I'd ditch you for club Beta Male I almost hit tonight instead of watching bad sci-fi movies with you homophobic pricks.
    -I never thought I'd see Joe standing up for gay rights.
    -I think it's more like tank top teletubbie rights.  Did we hurt your feelings, Joe?
    -Don't knock teletubbies.  They get to sit and watch tv on their fat asses all day.
    -The tvs are on their pot bellies, not their asses.  
    -Are you serious?
    -And why do think they're fat anyway?  It's cuz they don't work out.
    -Sit the hell down, Joe.  Let's get this thing over with.  And we're only watching sci-fi because you brought the freaking movie.  I was looking foreward to 24 all day.
    -Was that a pun, Brett?
    -Was what a pun?
    -Looking for-- nevermind.  Sigh.  Hey what are you looking for?
    -Beer.
    -Wait, you really forgot the beer?
    -Yah.  Oh look, wait!  There just happens to be some in here that I bought a couple hours ago for this very occasion.  Dear me, perhaps I'm not a purple dinosaur after all.
    -You're still purple.
    -I'm lost.
    -I think our writer just screwed up or something.
    -Wrh meeb som prghrrm.  Orshrum cahmny.
    -What?
    -Sorry, I was krunching some pizza.  It's hard to chew up, I think I'm already fantasizing about the dead brark body chunk toppings.
    -You should know better than to multi-task, Joe.  I think talking and fetching the beer is two more things you're already capable of focusing on.  Why don't you let us do the pizza-krunching, or sit down for Crissake.  Or were you trying to engage in the brilliant radical creative linguistics of Brett's five hundredth masters degree?
    -I did understand one vowel.
    -I said, we need some popcorn.  Or some candy.
    -Is that what they usually feed you in the pumped Barney gym locker room after the jumping jacks and summersaults?
    -Can we watch this?... Thanks, Joe.  I--Aww, come on.  Did you shake this up?!
    -Sorry, I meant to shake the pina coladas, not the beer.  Or maybe I'm just too strong.  You're lucky.  Just think how pumped I'd be without a lavender tank.
    -Just put it on, Joe.
    -Ok.  How do I use this thing again?  I'm kinda confused, there's no purple power light.  It--oh wait!  I get it!  Looking foreward all day to 24!
    -What do you--Joe, that was like twenty freaking minutes ago.
    -What a dumbass.
    -At least I'm a lavendar dumbass.
    -Sigh.
    -Would you stop that Brett?
    -What.
    -That thing where you say stuff that you'd normally send over a chat board to show what your moods are.  You're right here, I don't need you to tell me your sighing.
    -First of all, you might not be looking.  Second, the human pscyhe is very complex.  I could be feeling something entirely different on the inside than what I let show through my usual nerdy intellectual extroversion.
    -Brett's reaching out to us Mark.
    -I think someone needs a hug from a Lavendar the Teletubbie.
    -SOMEONE JUST PLAY THE DAMN THING.
    -Click.
    -I heard it click, I don't need you to say click.
    -Sigh.
    -..
    -..
    -..
    -..
    -..
    -..
    -..
    -When does it start?  Did you--oh ok, there it goes.
    -..
    -..
    -..
    -Oooo.  A logo.  Spooky.
    -Shut up.  Krunch your pizza.
    -Why?  I thought we were adding our own commentary track.
    -..
    -..
    -..
    -..
    -..
    -Fade in to Dexter's spooky Lab
    -..
    -Enter vaguely humanoid puke-green-skinned alien
    -..
    :Oh, shit.
    :What is it, Tit?
    :Oh, shit.
    :Tit, come on, what's up?
    -These guys curse more than we do.  What's this thing rated?
    -Why, what are pumped purple teletubbies allowed to watch?
    -Wait, who the $#@! says we always swear?
    :shitshitshitshitshitshit
    :Dude!  The frwoa recorder is running! you can't !@#$ing curse like that!
    -What's a frwoa?
    -It's probably like a really bad lavendar rated horror film.
    -I'll bet you twenty bucks Joe's writer is illiterate and he's mispelt lavender at least twice already.
    :I was prepping our ids:x:b:a51 depth 5 for our insertions and I hit a wrong key.
    :K, what key?
    -The one Gandalf lost last week and had to rely on a posessed hobbit instead cuz he forgot his at home with the book on why the dwarves stuck a one-word elvish password on the gate to Moria.
    -For once can we get through movie night without re-living the week before?  Last week half the elves turned autistic from watching Rainman.
    :K.
    :K?
    -Hey, I told you we shouldn't have rented Fellowship last week.  Next week I get an extra veto.
    -An extra veto would only give you one veto.  And I don't care how many freaking vetos you have anyway, I'm not watching Cube Zero.
    :Then 0.
    :K,0?  OK.
    -Who's Zero?
    -I think it was a Metroid character.  Or maybe Zero's that clunky beeping junk box in the back of the lab.
    :...
    -What are you doing?
    -I'm searching the net for lavendar zero bad sci-fi to get a help faq on this series.
    :OK, so then what did you enter?
    -Enter the lost clueless dutz I'm about to punch who didn't get the joke.
    :Then I hit enter.
    :...
    :Tag?
    :...
    :Tag?  You OK?
    -Where are we exactly?  I don't get where we are.
    -Well, the big clunky thing behind the green compsci nerd is probably Lav-9000.
    -And the metal beach ball looks like some pumped droid crunched up C-3PO for making his usual annoying ass comments through the whole freaking movie.
    -You're the one who said we should get drunk and comment.
    -No, he said we should get drunk and pretend that's why the movie sucks, so at least we could watch the damn thing in peace.
    -What about our fans?
    -Huh?
    -Brett's meta-writer demi-god thesis.  Aren't our fans gonna be ticked off if we don't at least entertain them to a point that justifies writing a book about us?
    -Maybe we can just comment to a certain point and then go watch Finding Nemo over Jimmy's or something and let it run so they at least have something to watch.
    -I don't think we're a book.  I think we're more like a bad skit.
    -Can we please stop-- great, now we don't know what the hell is going on.  Rewind a bit.
    -I lost the remote.
    :This is serious.  I actually hit K, 0, enter.
    :Seriously?
    :Seriously.
    :Tit.
    :Tag?
    -Tats?
    -Tits?
    :Do you realize there are 603 billion comedy frwoas about this situation in our ku alone?
    :Yes.
    :And that when I say 603 billion, I literally mean, there are 603 BILLION comedy frwoas about this situation, not just that there are a whole big bunch of them?
    :Yup.
    :And do you realize that every single one is fictional?  Not one is a real life documentary.  Do you realize that?
    :Yup.
    :Do you know why that is?
    :Yes.
    :I'll tell you why that is.  Because each and every one is a hypothetical situation.
    :Yup.
    :They've searched over 14 entire kus looking for a real life instance of anyone, anywhere, in all the known univi in all the known existences in all of Being, dumb enough to ACTUALLY MULTIPLY A FRWOA DEPTH BY A FACTOR OF TEN JUST BEFORE A KEY DEPTH INSERTION.
    -What the f#@! is a frwoa?
    -What the f#@! is a depth insertion?
    :Yup.
    :And you did it, Tit.
    :Yes.
    :We're really about to be blinked into the FIFTIETH AREA 51 DEPTH, and NOT THE FIFTH?
    -I think we've established that.
    :I think we've established that.
    -HA!  What a co-inky.
    -Wasn't co-inky a teletubbie?   
    -Probably Lavendar's nemesis.
    :The penultimate depth?
    :Yes.
    :The one that results when you LEAP somewhere in the dead middle of the other 47 frwoa depths of the full 51 after the first four, bypassing every single bit of
    -Skip >>|
    -What the hell--
    -This is boring.  I'm going to the next scene.
    -That's not the right remote, Joe.
    -And it just went black.  Now you broke the damn thing.
    -It's your apartment, fix it.
    -I lost the instructions.  And don't say "sigh" I'll or freaking--
    -Alright!  Let's just find the manual.  We have this procedure down by now for god's sake.
    :Alright, let's follow the manual.  What's the first K0 override protocol?
    Alright, let's do this by the book.  Nyles, what's our first contact protocol?
    -Alright I got it back on.  Who needs a manual when you hid the player remote in case Joe fracked the machine up by using the wrong one again?
    -Alright, Brett, lilac tank or not, you're gettin' a severe ass whopping later.
    .Alright, Orbo, let's test this depth color.  We're the fourth frwoa xangle in, assuming we started counting four depths ago.  Does this look like a good font color for a fourth frwoa depth?
    .A little dark, but I guess there's no perfect way to do it.
    -What's a xangle?
    -It's like a lilac protractor.
    -Maybe we should ask the 404 flower faq.
    -Or the faliterative fans of Joe's Jumping Jargon Jukebox.
    -Or the pumped powerpuff tanked chicks from Peter's Pizza Place.
    -Or the hyperaliens on their way to arrest us for galactic gay grammar defamation.
    We haven't developed a first contact protocol, we've never encountered aliens before.
    :We haven't developed a K0 override protocol, I've never mishit B4 before
    Well when the hell are we supposed to develop it, after the first encounter?
    :When the hell does Blink get out of his depth 15 first contact mission?
    -When's Peter get off work?  I want another pizza.
    :You think Blink can just pull a K050 patch procedure out of his ass?  Right after a stressful brain mangling diplomatic mission that usually leaves him locked in his room smashing his pongboard against his head until either it's time for his next race, or he falls unconscious of a first degree concussion?
    -This feels like the standard first set up for a contrived pun at the end of the scene.
    Well, actually, yes, the point of a first contact protocol is to encounter aliens enough times where you've developed a standard procedure when you meet a new race.  What we need here is a first first contact protocol.
    :You're right.  Blink won't have a !@#$ing clue.
    -You're right.  Peter should get his ass over here with a pizza, his Atari, and a coupl'a his pink-tanked Pizza Town chicks he never lets us hit on during work.
    :I think we need another help file.   
    -Yah, we could use some help scoring tonight.  I think locking 900 dial a pumped polka dot lilac tanked phone model into my speed dial is starting to wear thin.
    :Start logging in on the dial-up.  It's like U dot one I think...
    .Do you like this dot at the start of each dialogue?  I think it helps separate one xangle from another.
    .I really don't care Pik.  Let's just get this  over with.
    -Are you connected?  Did you find it?
    Yes!  A first first contact protocol!... Beep, Lindsy, run a search see if anyone's written a first first
contact protocol, beep.
    A first first contact protocol?  Beep.
    Yes, a first first contact protocol.  Surely some Roswell nut scribbled something on a napkin and mailed it to the pentagon.  Beep.
    :Why are they actually saying "beep"?
    :Find that faq and we'll find out.
    :No, it's still searching...  I think we should call Protak... or Beep.
    :I bet Beep's gonna go back in time and screw up our writer's grammar and punctuation.
    :It might have given up.  Re-run the search, and set it for indefinite timeout.  Anyway, Protak's on Florbb.  Beep's actually on a date with another bot orb.
    :Is Beep a bot orb?  I'm lost.
    :I'm sure Brett knows.
    :Search. Sigh. Ugh.
    :Does'e know?
    :Brett's busy.
    :Sigh.
    :lol.
    :..
    :lol.
    :Beep.
    :Stop it.
    Pst, Bob, why are they actually saying--
    :Is Bob a bot orb?
    :Beep and Bob the Tank Top Teletubbie Dinosaurs Date A Green Alien From Narnia 2.
    :Pff, you mean he's actually dating??  Who is it?
    Don't ask.
    :Don't ask.   
    :Don't ask.
    .Wait, the second depth are the Bobs?  I thought D2 was the flurth frwoa.
    :..
    Searching....
    :..
    -It's like dejavu all over again.
    -I'm getting dizzy.
    :..
    :..
    :Alright, I'm patched in, right under D4.  It's... Holy !@#$ it's Pik and Orbo!!
    .I don't know, maybe it should be a semicolon instead of a period, it's still kinda dark.
    -Maybe he should turn on the big neon sign right above him.
    :Pik!  Over here!  Above you!
    .Are you listening to me?  Pik?...  Pik??... Lindsy?...
    -I think Lindsy's out on a date with Beep.
    :He can't hear you.  We'll have to blink them up to our level.
    :The tekimoka is running low.  We can only pick one of them to blink up.
    -Pick me, pick me!
    :Well then, pick Pik, Tit.  Since a copy of Orbo is already here with us, it would probably rupture local IDS more than humanly or borbably fathomable to transport a mirror of him.  Be careful or you could frack up a frwoa medium engine somewhere.
    -Then our fans would either give us a metal or execute us for galactic treason.
    :K, here goes.  K...
    -Wait!
    :WAIT!
    -See!
    :Tag?
    -Tag.
    :Tit?
    -Tats?
    :Yes?
    -Tats??
    :Tit?
    :Tag?
    -You know, tits for tats, tats for tits?
    -What the hell does that mean?
    -Run a search, Joe.
    :Do... NOT... hit... 0.
    :Touche.
    :OK, here we go.
    -Oh!  It's a tagline.  OK!  Yah I've heard that one.
    -Why don't you run a search for "why did the chicken cross the road?"
    -Shut up.  Hey, I actually wonder what would come up that...
    :WAIT!
    -Skip >>|
    :pzztzz
    -Skip >>|
    :NO DON'T!
    -Skip >>|
    :Gods of Zeroa and Plush Prime Priests haste us through this maze of waste....
    -Angels and ministers of grace defend us....
    :Why are you praying?
    :You tell me, Tit.  why might I be praying about now.
    -Maybe he's an agnostic and he's not sure.
    :You're an atheist, Tag.  I really have no clue.
    -I'm so good at this.
    :Tit, take a guess.
    -Yah, Tit.
    :No idea.
    -No idea.
    :No idea?
    -You can do this, Tit.
    :No.
    -I think I can I think I can...!
    :Think reeeeally hard now.
    -Think, Mcfly, think!
    :No idea.  Tag, Just tell me.
    -Beep.
    :Tell you?
    -Beep.
    :Yah, why are you praying?
    :I'm praying.
    :Yes.
    -Final answer...
    :Because.
    :Because?
    -Because because because becaaaause...
    -Beep!
    :BECAUSE the only known guy anybody knows of in all the kus in all existence in all of being to actually multiply a frwoa depth by a factor of 10 just before a key depth insertion JUST WASTED OUR BLINK FUEL TELEPORTING THE ONLY BOT ORB THAT COULD HAVE POSSIBLY HELPED US STRAIGHT INTO THE ONLY FRWOA DEPTH WHERE WE WOULDN'T EVEN NEED HIM IF YOU HAD JUST BLINKED US DIRECTLY THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE.
    -Not to mention nuking five Xangles sagas and fracking up about a billion blorkk.com frwoa formatting files.
    :Not to mention nuking five Xangles sagas and fracking up about a billion blorkk.com frwoa formatting files.
    :It's times like this I feel jealous of all the people who only read the informercials for the Xangles and Blorkk sagas an never have to experience the actual frwoas.
    :I think we should beep Lindsy.
    :We could fry her brain with this level of complexity.
    -Then she wouldn't have to watch this movie.
    :We could fry all the known existences in Being if we don't try.
    :K, do it.
    :K.
    -Beep
    :0.
    -Beep
    :Enter.

   
-Beep
   
:Beep.  
    -Beep!
    -STOP IT!!
    :Hello?
    -"Hello Lindsy, welcome to Mark's apartment.  We're trying to harmonize the non-sequiter scenes of a clunky run down Hal-9000 in Dexter's Lab with a couple green aliens, a bunch of scrunchy metal drunk bot orbs named Bob flying around some surreal warped blue polka dotted hyperspace realm, a generic cliche Monty Python slash Abbott and Costello rip off skit in Area 51, and a skippy broken copy of Mystery Science Theatre 3 billion on crack.  We can't come to the phone right now, but leave a message after the--"
    :Lindsy, look down.
    :Oh, hello Tit!  What are you doing all the way down there?  It's been quite awhile.  How are things back at--
    -Is this intential phallic imagery?
    :Sorry to be rude, Lindsy, we don't have much time.  Tag and I have a crisis frwoa error on our hands.  We need you to run a search for an emergency blink fuel generation protocol.
    -I don't think so.
    :Silly Tit.  Did you hit K,0,enter again?  I swear, one of these days you're gonna blink us all to bits.
    -Yah see, boobs can't blink.
    :Lindsy, please.
    :Alright.  Searching...   K, the only thing that's coming up is a Level 50 Wizard spell in the second to last edition of AD&D Exotica called "Create Blink Fuel and Water"
    -Now I'm not so sure.
    :Nothing else?
    :..
    No, nothing.  Beep.
    :..
    :Tag, that'll do.  Lindsy, could you send us the AD&DE spell?
    :Sending... beep.
    -Beep.
    Alright thank you, Lindsy.  Beep.
    -Beep.
    -Stop!
    :So now what?
    Why don't we just write a first first contact protocol?
    Yeah.
    :We have to wait a few minutes before doing anything, the fuel spell takes a few seconds to warm up and I--
    But we don't have time.  We don't know if they're hostile.  They could be preparing to attack the complex right now.  We have to act fast.
    -Maybe they should look out the window at the clunky UFOs flying by that somehow nobody's noticed yet.
    :Tit, stop quoting Dr. Horrible.  That was the most ridiculous frwoa in the history of mankind.
    :Why?
    -Wait is this a spoiler?  I don't want a spoiler for a horrible frwoa.
    ::WARNING #FDH65: SPOILER FOR DR. HORRIBLE FOLLOWS.  STOP HERE.
    -Does that answer your question?
    -Brett, did you just... did you just hack into the $#@!ing movie?
    -No.  It was just a pumped lavendar coinky-dink.
    -Shut up, I want to hear the end of the horrible frwoa thing before one of you ruins it.
    ::WARNING #FDH67: SPOILER FOR DR. HORRIBLE FOLLOWS.  STOP HERE.
    -That was weird.
    :For one thing, the girl dies.  That's just too tragic for a comedic frwoa.  The protagonist is supposed to save the girl.
    :Not if the protagonist is evil.  Anyway didn't Penny get wheeled away by some ambulence guys?
    :Yah but they couldn't save her.  She was too far gone for that time period.
    :Well when we're done with this, why don't we charge a 155th billenia IDS frwoa blink and go save her ourselves?
    -Wait, hold it, I think I've actually seen this somewhere.  Is this the one where they hack into the hospital mainframe and download some weird pentagon digital resurrection spell?
    -Maybe that's what they're about to do right now.
    -Skip >>|
    -Hey, what the hell, Joe?  I told you I'd kill you if you did this through another whole movie.
    :I'm sorry Tit, I must have missed the part where you hacked into the hospital mainframe and downloaded the standard procedure for bringing a human being back from the dead.
    Maybe we should ask the aliens what the standard procedure is.
    No, we have to face the possibility that this is their first contact too.  And besides, we can't just walk up to them, since they might be hostile.  They might do something terrible to us like tear our pulsating entrails out of our chests with vicious thrusting tenticles, and stuff our hollow torsos full of cheap store-brand cottage cheese then bury our bodies with Britney Spears or 50-Cent CDs--
    Pst, Bob, since when are CDs fifty cents on Earth?
    No, he's an artist.
    Is he any good?
    I'll tell you later.  Shh, let's listen to this.
    But--
    -Skip >>|
    :But... I liked Penny.  Didn't you?
    :No.  And shut up about it.
    :But didn't you think--
    :Are we going to turn into a commentary soundtrack for an obscure Earth frwoa or get this done?
    :I thought that was the point of all frwoas.  OK, It's ready...  Now, to blink Pik up to level 50, I just do the inverse of what I did to get us here.  Sooo... Enter, O, K... Done.  So, what was wrong with Penny?
    :Tit it's 0, not O.
    -Zero zero zero destruct--oh wait, it's Star Trek IV I was thinking of!
    -Great.  Now, don't say zero again or you'll self-destruct our commentary track.
    -But you just said--
    -Sigh.
    -Skip >>|

    :Oh.  Dear.  Gods.  Of.  Florbb.    :Tag?    :Tit.    :Tag?
    :You know, I would probably make some comment about now about being with the only being in known Being to misexponentiate a depth insertion,  blink the only needed bot orb back to it, then waste our new fuel supply blinking him right back to the only frwoa depth less useful than the one he misblinked him to in the first place--
    -Not to mention frying Lav-9000 and sending fifty UFOs past the Area 51 pool hall.
    :Not to mention randomizing the skit-prose medium on blorkk.com again and probably confusing the !@#$ out of six billion freaders...
   
:--if I thought there was a scant chance in hell that figuring a way to word such a comment wouldn't fry every existent Blorkk xiter's brain.
    -I think Joe did that by renting the movie long before we even put it on.
    :Don't blame the xiters for my stupidity.
    :Alright alright alright.  OK.  OK.  Tit, pick another protocol to blink Pik back and prep the depth frwoa framework for a fifty-depth fall.
    :All that'll take awhile.  Your alliteration alone is altering IDS acronym illiteration association protocol.
    -Phallic boob imagery and horridly unnecessary alliteration in the same five minutes, I think we should rent this movie again.
    :Just do it, and shut up about it.  My brain's about to melt if I don't get a billionth of a nanit of silence.
    :Me shut up?  But I'm so charismatic.  I'm the comic relief character.  What better sidekick could you possibly pick?
    -No comment.  Cough.  Joe.  Cough.
    Just shut up.
    -Alright, can we watch this freaking thing in peace for like ten freaking lines of dialogue?
    -..
    -..
    Penny for your thoughts on 50-Cent.
    :Shut it!  I need silence.
    :..
    :..
    :Penny for your thoughts on Penny.
    :Look, Penny was shallow!  She was a static character.  Do you know what a static character is?  It means they don't change one bit in the whole damn frwoa.  Dr. Horrible might as well have been in love with a dollar menu hamburger.
    :So I don't profit?
    :Huh?
    :Well, I paid a penny for your two cents and all you did was change a Penny for a quarter pounder.

    -Why doesn't he profit?
    -Well, he doesn't get to eat the burger.  It just got exchanged for a penny.
    -But he still gets the two cents?
    -Right, so if he wants the burger, it would be 97 cents then.
    -Assuming it's on the dollar menu.
    Jeff, were the last ten lines contrived just to deliver that line?
    -Were the last twenty lines contrived to deliver that line?
    -More like the whole movie.
    More like the whole frwoa.
    What a frangle.
    :Hold it!
    :What?
    :I have an idea.  I think Jeff could help us.  Blink him here, use an instant.
    -Is that some sort of roleplaying card game reference?
    -I'd check, but I don't have an instant.
    :K.  K... 0...
    :pzztzz

    Who the hell--where the hell--what the hell?
--what the !@#$?
    -Don't speak like you're the characters.  Our mock commentary is absurd enough.
    Look, you can't give a penny for my two cents on 50-Cent now, we're at a meeting about an alien invasion if you haven't noticed.
    -And you screwed up the no mayo I asked for on half of the dollar menu quarter pounder.
    :Where am I?   Did someone 50-send me?  I was just on level 3.
    Wouldn't he be 47-Cent then?
    -More like 97.
    :Help, I've fallen into a 6-D black hole of coupon contrivance and I can't get up to 51!

    :We blinked you.  We have an emergency frwoa depth error on our hands and I thought maybe you could help.
    :Did someone hit K,O again?  Gof, when will all you newbie techie idiots learn to-- Alright, hold on, I think can program Orbo's IDS drive to... wait, what's--Tit, have you been trying to install Quake on Orbo again?  Gods of Florbb, you-- wait, hold on...
    :How long is this going to take?
    :How long is this going to take?
    :Better grab a couple beers... So, I'm dying to know.  Who had the brain dead sense to 50-send you two dolts?
    -Beers sound good.  Joe, fetch some more.  Joe?
    -Asleep.
    -Does'e do anything else besides fetch beers and sleep?
    :If you haven't noticed, Tit's a !@#$ing tit.
    :Tit did it?  Where's Tats?
    :Tit took his shift.
    :Tit for Tats?
    :Tat's four dits--.. hold on...
    :Tag?
    *YAWN*
    :Tat's four ditsy pet unicorns mauled some Blorkk-Okuaka ambassador to a bloody pulp just outside Flu swamp territory and the Alliance is pressing charges on Greenpeas.  They say they should have done more to foritfy the pea mulg content of the swamp waters to sedate the ambassador-mauling tendency of tourist unicorns when they don't get enough greens in their swamp mush.  It wasn't Tat's fault, but he had to take a trip to Area 47 to testify.  Apparently like two thousand ex-Greenpeas blowjeithiens pooled their resources and chipped in twenty Earth bucks for a good lawyer.
    -whoawhoawhoa.  Hold on, is this supposed to make everything make sense, confuse us to the depths of bot orb oblivion, or give us the surreal feeling we got the first hour of Fellowship last week when the movie was just getting started when we thought it was all over when Frodo finally gets to Narnia?
    -Touche.
    Hey, that's like a penny a blowj--
    If you quote Clerks one more time today I'm going to castrate you.  Besides, it's 37, not 47.  Do we have to watch Clerks 47 times  before you memorize a two digit permutation of ten digits?
    -These are our type of guys.
    -Wake up, Joe.
    :Tag, watch it with the plot elements!  This is a massively nonlinear frwoa!  The more details you spout off, the less modular the frwoa depths are, and then they can't be shifted around to confuse the !@#$ out of the freaders.  If even a single freader ever actually fully understands what the hell is going on anywhere in Blorkk, it's the end of the entire Blorkk-Okuaka artistic license treaty.  Frwoa sales would plummit, boredom would skyrocket, and the only entertainment left for anyone anywhere would be all out war between the only two known universes that anybody that anybody knows about knows about.
    :Existence War I?
    :Known Existence War I.
    -Dunh dunh dunh!
    :Dunh dunh dunh!
    -You're such a tit, shut up.
    :Tit, shut up.  Wait, what about all the other known univi?
    :The freaders can't know about those.
    -What's a freader?
    -I think that's us or something.  Or our fans.  Is Joe asleep again?
    :Ohhh, OK.  And the unknown known univi?
    :Especially not those.
    :So I suppose it would be off the chart to even hint at mentioning the sftlkuaa--
    :TIT!
    :Oh...  Ohhh!  OK.  I get it now.  Well how about the--
    :Hold it, Jeff.  What are you talking about, I don't see any dialogue depths around here.
    :Whoawhoawhoawhoa.   Tag, are you serious?
    :Completely.
    :Seriously?
    -Seriously.
    :Seriously.
    :Tag.
    -Tit?
    :Jeff?
    -Joe?
    :Tag.
    :Ya?
    :Did Tit by any chance of the imagination hit F2 today?
    :Yah, so?  It put our night goggles on or something.
    :Tit?    :Jeff?    :Hit it again.
    -I bet it nukes Mark's apartment.
    No, it's not 47-Cent, because it's one penny in exchange for two, all three of which come from our own pockets and have nothing to do with 50-Cent whatsoever.
    -Dunh dunh dunh!  Dawn breaks over Jeff's 50 lavender marble bot orb heads.
    :Who the hell is 50-Cent?
    -Who the hell is Jeff?
    :Holy !@#$ing---we're interlaced with the other depth frwoas?  Have these been here the whole time?
    -Tag on first frwoa lesson to Joe's Movie Rules: Never fall asleep during a crucial frwoa-depth mission.
    :Tag?  Who's--
    ---on first?
    :Tag, you two really didn't see this stuff?
    :Tag?
    -Jeff and Tag are dead, Tit.
    :But everything made sense without them.
    :Tag?
    -Tit?    
    :That's because this depth is self-interlaced.  The whole frwoa makes sense if you leave out the other depths and just read the light blue stuff.  In a microcosm, it would sorta be like re-reading every other line of the last eight lines of this conversation (inclusively) to edit out Tit's pesty nagging curiosity that apparently can't wait for five seconds until I've explained something crucial to the plot of the rest of this skit to you.
    -HOLY FREAKING !@#$$#@!! It all makes sense now!! 
    -Don't jinx it.  It'll probably do the inverse from here.  Oh wait was that sarcasm?
    -I bet the whole thing make sense at the very end with a phrase or two.
    -I'm your bot orb, Lindsy.
    -That's impossible!!
    :Tag?
    :WHAT?
    :Who's 50-Cent?
    :I think they mean "50-SENT."  One of the billions of needlessly confusing and condensed Xangles/Blorkk terms is to refer to being sent to a frwoa depth as "X-sent", as in, "someone 3-sent me" instead of "sent me to depth 3"
    :But isn't that abysmal contrivance from this frwoa's frangle?
    :Welcome to Blorkk.
    :Welcome to Blorkk.
    :FADE IN.
    -Did Joe pass out on the keyboard again?
    If you two are going to exchange a penny for two, why don't you simply give him a penny?
    -That reminds me, you owe me a bot orb.
    :What a classic line.
    :Have you seen this frwoa?
    :No, I mean it just sounds classic.
    :This isn't a freaking movie theatre.  Do you see a popcorn stand?  Do you see popcorn?  Do you see a bunch of kids throwing popcorn at eachother?  Do you see a big fat guy with a tub of popcorn yelling at the kids throwing popcorn at the back of his head?
    :Touche.
    :Touche.
    :OK, I think I have Orbo fixed.  Just let him run through the rest of the frwoa and he'll be all set to get you guys out of here.  He'll know what to do.
   
:The rest of the frwoa?  What the hell do we do until then?
    :The rest of the frwoa?  What the hell do we do until then?
    -Wait, what the f----how are you... doing that?
    -Wait and see.
    -No, you're freaking me out.  You were just guessing before, how are you--
    :Get some popcorn, I suppose.
    :Alright, thanks Jeff.  You better get back to d3.  Tit, hit-- wait, I'll do it.
    :K... 3... enter.
    -later guys   -pzztzz
    :later guys   :pzztzz
    -Wait, is that the script?  Did you download the script to this thing?
    -Yup.  Yesterday.
    :Well, Tit, it's gonna be a long time 'til the cows un-tip and the pigs fly back to Narnia.
    :Since when do cows and pigs fly home?
    They're just metaphors, Bob.
    :Can he hear us?
    What?
    :You heard me.
    Metaphors.
    :What about them?
    :Tit, look where you're listening.
    :Oh.  Ohhh, OK.  But, can he hear us now?
    -Can you hear me now?
    :No.  See those chipzits on Orbo?  A d50d2 audiograffahole is completely metaphysically impossible while those are fried.
    -Unless someone downloaded the scripts yesterday.
    But what are they for?
    -Can you hear me now?
    :I just told you.
    :Look who's not looking where they're listening now.
    :Sorry.  You're right, this is a little disorienting.  It's like... uh...
    It's like metaphysics.
    -For metaphysics... and for Blorkk!  Cue lavender, couch potato commentary leading a clueless audience into literary slaughter on a purple unicorn.
    For metaphysics... and for Narnia!  Cue clueless, utterly battle-inexperienced toddler leading a well trained army into slaughter on a ditsy unicorn.
    -Ha, you memorized the wrong script.  Sucks to be a ditsy gay unicorn in Narnia.
    :What's Narnia?
    :It's like Generika.
    -What's Generika?
    -It's like Narnia.
    :What's a unicorn?
    :It's like a cross-breed between a Kroffonian donkey and a spiked death orb.
    -Except a little higher so you get the two level effect with a little path going down the middle.
    All these puns and allusions are driving me to castrate myself.
    -Why do I suddenly get the feeling we're about to hit by a castration/unicorn contrivance foreshadow line?
    :Why do I suddenly get the feeling we're about to be metaphysically mauled by a stampede of dead horse puns involving castration and unicorns?
    .Pik, do you think that's a little crude?
    .We don't have permissions to blink back and change anything.  How about an ampersand?

    :Wait, can the other Orbo hear us?
    -God, I hope not.
    :Gods of Mars I hope not.
    Would you guys shut up?  There's an alien invasion going on if you haven't noticed.
    :What invasion?  Did I miss something?  Quick, give me a re-cap.
    -That definitely felt contrived.  Where's this whole thing going again?
    We're so awkwardly removed from the conversation by this point I don't think there's any jumping back in.
    :No, see, since we hit F2, we jumped into the commentary.  We haven't seen the main frwoa dialogue yet.  It's--hey where the hell did you get popcorn?
    -Lavendartubbie Death Orb Sim City 7000.
    Look, I'll give you a whole freaking quarter to shut up.
    :That would only buy half a 50-send K0.
    That would only buy half a 50-cent CD.
    -That would only nuke a third of a drunk bot orb.
    :Tit, it's just a verb, not an adjective.

    Bob, It's just his name.  It's not actually--
    -Joe, it's just--wait, I think that one made sense.  Sense?  Sends?
    :It's just a word, Tag.  The xiters laugh in the face of English grammar and switch them around all the time.  All you'd need is a used K0 xindex CD-RW burner to change it, which I just happened to install into Orbo last night on the chance you'd try to correct my grammar on this mission like you usually do.  So I might as well not do the work and use it however the hell I like.  From this frwoa's frangle, I think we've already established that the term was just contrived a few minutes ago, so I don't think a little further contrivance is gonna kill anyone.
    No, I meant a discounted used CD, like at Newbury Comics.
    What about a discounted 50-Cent CD?
    :What about a discounted 50-send K0?
    -What about a discounted 97-cent BK douple happy meal whopper with a half-off 50 cent toy?
    That would be anything under 50 cents, right?
    :But it would probably implode oblivion after 50 sends.
    -That would be anything on the half-off dollar menu.
    .But short term temporal blinks are so cheap.  They're like, 47 nil each or something.
    Like 47?  A penny a blowj--
    That's it.  I'm getting out my pocketknife.

    No, wait!
    -This is boring.  What if we switched our mock commentary track to Spanish bot orb frwoa interlace?
    :Tag, I'm bored.  Can't we just !@#$ up something and let Orbo go fix it when he's back online?  It's not like he isn't programmed with 603 billion temporal restoration subroutines.  There must be one working by now.
    .I told you they don't want us mangling around with this timeline.
    .Come on, it's for the kids.  They break protocol on Star Trek every time it helps out.

    .Alright, I just happened to bring along a quick subroutine good for short blinks.  Use it carefully if you want to @edit something by the end of the frwoa, because there's only charge on it.
    -I think that's a command in my Blorkk expansion pack.
    Hey, could I borrow that when you're done?
    :Tag, is this entire freaking frwoa just a bunch of idiots commenting on a scene we never even see?
    -Try reading the script.
    :Wait, I think it's on pause.  Here, hit F2 again.   
    -Should we confuse our meta-readers by informing them that we've been switching back and forth between the movie, the script, and a bad Frakenstein remake on SciFi channel for awhile now?
    -Not to mention randomly pausing all three to comment and switching the subtitles to Spanish bot orb interlaced scanning.  We should probably help them out and stick with just one for awhile.
    :Which one?  Wait, this one?
    -No, telling them would be worse.  We'll probably burn in frwoa bot orb hell or something.
    -Skip >>|
    --so our eternal souls will be forever haunted by the melody to "Oops I Did It Again..."
    Pst, Bob, did he just pick up right where he left off?
   
.Pik, did he just pick up right where he left off?
    :Tag, Is it me, or does every dialogue pick up where it leaves off?
    -It's like watching 24 except it rewinds and switches scenes every three seconds.
    I think we hit a level three temporal anomaly.
    .You dope, you ran the temporal blink routine by mistake!
    :You dufus, we've been operating in an accelerated temporal frwoa!  Hit F1 again.
    -But if it's 24 every three seconds, wouldn't that make it 72?
    Oops... I hit the level three temporal anomaly button again by mistake.
    :Again?  But we tried that.  For all we know, hitting F1 twice nukes the whole frwoa.
    -No, if there are two things going on, that makes it twice as long.
    :Or neuters an unsuspecting kennel of fracolic pit bulls.
    What's that screaming, is someone being castrated?
    -Or visa versa, growing Jack an extra pair of balls every day he doesn't have to be ballsy.
    .Yah, Pik, I really think 'castrated' is overboard
    -Castrating Jack from top federal agent to top teletubbie.
    :Hey, I told you not go overboard on your crudeness at the start of all this.  The recorder's bee stuck running ever since your idiot blink typo landed us all the way down here.  And it wouldn't it be nice to have a bot orb here that could do something about it, if someone hadn't inadvertantly placed him into a SIX HUNDRED KILONANIT recharge routine just before we got here.
    .Why don't you fix it?  Oh wait, somebody already hit the one charge temporal blink routine.  You know, I'm the friendliest kfrorb in any ku around, but if you make one more dufus screw up, Orbo, I'm going to scream.
    -I'd suggest they castrate Orbo but seeing how he's only one ball to begin with, that would probably result in negative one Orbos.  I'm not sure I want to hear the sound of a screaming confused bot orb as all his equations and data invert into an inversely confusing negative frwoa existence.
    Why would you immediately equate screaming with castration?
    :Hold up, Tag, do you hear that?
    :What?
    :Orbo's charger.
    :What about it?
    Well, it just sort of sounds... nevermind.  Hey, is that someone else screaming?
    -Uh-oh.  Tit must have gotten confused and hit ctrl-alt-neuter-orbo again
    :I think--oh wait!  Here! F1 does neuter a kennel of fracolic pit bulls..
    -Skip >>|
    Or they could anally probe us.
    Yes, or that.  Though that's probably too cliche for real life.
    -Lucky for us.  We are in real life, right?  I'm pretty damn confused at this point.
    :More like REEL life.  Real life is for frangles blessed with the blissful psychotic ignorance that nobody's watching you.
    :What a frangle.
    Pst, Bob, what does he mean by 'real life'?
    Huh?
    I thought this was a compsci major's ongoing nightmare turned bad skit turned bad selling humor book re-turned bestselling audio skit saga.  Not real life.
    -Well, it depends on your xangle.
    Well, it depends on your xangle.
    
.What's a depends?
    What's a xangle?
    :What's a 'well'?
    -What's a 'what'?
    For the love of God would someone get that entire exchange student group of monks named Bob out of here.
    Sorry, sir.  Alright, listen up, you guys have to come with me.  I need to see your IDs and giraffapassports.
 Hey, you three!  What the hell are you doing down there!  That's restricted to high clearance personell!  
Oh, hey, Jimmy, we're being attacked by aliens from bot orb prime, wanna get over here with some pizza or donuts or something?
    :Holy !@#$ Tit!  It--quick, do something!
    -Pause ||
    -Joe, get off your cell and pay attention.  And stop talking like you're the main characters.  You'll confuse our new meta-fans.  I think I'm gonna buy a bot orb to hover by the door and vaporize you if you ever rent this !@#$ing thing again.
    -What'll you name it?
    -I dunno, Skip?
    -Skip >>|
    -Hey!
    -You said skip.
    -But it's paused.
    -Okay, Skip won't work then.
    -What about Bob?

    -Boring.  Anagram it or something.
    -Obb?
    -Perfect.  I'll name my bot orb Obb.  Now if only Obb would spidey-sense the danger of the near-fatal infinite confusion about to implode my brain and blink-beep over here to vaporize the remote before I implode our brains by watching the last scene.
    -Why would Obb blink Beep over when he could just blink himself?
    -Yah, he's your bot orb, not Beep.
    -Not if there's an alien invasion.  Then he gets drafted and can't save him.
    -But he's my bot orb.
    -But if the planet gets vaporized you both die.
    -I bet there's no invasion at all.  I bet they're both out a double date with some toaster-hot bot chicks.
    -So if it's double the bot orbs, we can finally castrate Orbo without a problem.
    -Or get Orbo to blink all four of them back to base.
    -Where they'll probably just do the same thing to them for treason.

    -Unless there's no rush and the aliens are gathering their forces before they need the bot orb armada.
    -Well then he can blink back and save Mark from unpausing the movie.
    -Not if they need him close enough to blink back with an instant but not so far away where he wastes all his beep fuel he'll need to blast the aliens back into hell.
    -Then he can send a deep space message to all the other bot orbs that they can finally blink here and invade the planet.
    -But if they fail, they'll castrate all four of them for two acts of treason.
    -Restoring balance to the forbce and saving the planet inadvertantly.
    -Cue climactic scene ruined by 51 seconds of lavender contrivance.
    -Play >
    Well, if they're invading, what are they waiting for?
    Maybe they're trying to figure out whether they have a first invasion protocol.
    They probably don't if this is their first invasion.  Why don't we write one for them, so we can make sure they don't kill us all?
    Yes, and include a part where they teach us all their technology.
    And feed us mutant roaches!
    I hope they have robotic kittens.
    People.  We still don't know if they're hostile or not.  We have no idea what to expect from them.  And in the name of the holy ghost why are there two sets of balls are on the conference table?
    :Great Gods of Florbb!  Are those bot orbs?
    -Look what you did!
    :shitshitshit!
    Crap!  What the-- how did matter on our side cross over to-- wait a sec...
    .Holy crap, that's Obb!  One of those balls is Obb!
    I think this room doubles as a pool hall in the summer.
    :Oh, phew.
    Oh, phew.
    Oh phew.
    Oh phew.
    A hall is a really awkward place to swim.
    I think it's mainly for laps, Dan.
    Lapdances?
    No, just laps.
    No lapdances?
    No.
    Oh, that explains the balls.
    -Now I want Obb back.  I hope he didn't die in the war.
    -There was no war.  He was just a pool ball all along.
    -No, I bet Obb's hiding.  I bet bot orbs morph into pool balls to recharge.
    -Unless he died in his sleep.
    .OK, this explains a lot.  The last thing anyone knew about Obb, he was screwing around with some type of experimental nuclearmoka energy in the Okuaka Orion nebula... 
    :This is confusing the !@#$ out of me.  Why does Obb NOT being one of the table balls explain anything?
    :I think it's a xiter oversight.  Or maybe some screw loose krforbs somewhere overloaded on blink fuel and crashed and were so hung over the next morning they forgot to come back an insert an explanation.
    -Krforbs don't let krforbs drite drunk.
    -It's time we made drunk drorbs history.
    Screw the balls, that exlpains everything....
    -If anything explains everything I want to know where the hell we missed it.
    -I think it's coming up.
    -Skip >>|
    -No!
    -No!
    Bob, why do balls explain everything?
    Look, from a spherical perspective, the seven foci are seven Kroffonian orbs, right?  Like balls--
    -How can pool balls be foci?  They just go in random directions when you break them.
    -Because you can't break a bot orb!  They're made of solid adamantium or something.
    :Or krforb planets in ID space, from any sane Xanglian frangle.  What's that poem some Plutonian phyt wrote about your online metaphysical rants?
    :"Little balls of bits and bytes and bigger balls of dirt and rocks, are all just sorta spheres in space in Tit's two-hit mock-phyt net thoughts."
    -Great, now my new pet pool ball is a dead lifeless planet.
    What kind of balls are we talking about at this point?  I'm so lost.  This is maddening.  Can I borrow that pocketknife?
    I think they were always metaphorical balls.
    -Phew, I was concerned someone in the room might get their balls cut off by the end of the frwoa.
    :Holy !@#$, Tag! that's a metafracolic hyperknife!
    -Scratch that.
    Meta-what?
    You know, like metaphysics.
    So metaphysics is a metaphor for metaphor?
    :Yah but it's relevance is totally irrelevant relative to anything going on.
    -Unlike this hyperknife I just yanked from the third frwoa depth.
    -A butterknife you just ruined by writing "HYPERKNIFE" on it with a black sharpie doesn't count as a kyperknife.
    And visa versa.
    -So who wants to go first?
    -I think Mark should go first.  In fact I think it would be detremental to space-time to use it on anyone but Mark.
    -Why's that?
    -For one thing, because it would leave a mark, but Mark's name is already Mark, so it won't affect him.
    :Touche.
    --and there are seven pool balls to each pool player, right?
    :What kind of balls are we talking about again?
    :I think the dialogue's still pooled on the little ones.  The polar end of the orb-planet metapole you dislike so much.
    Okay, pool balls.
    So if nothingness tears apart by equal opposittes, the seven pool-orb-foci--
    Ugh, nevermind.
    Ak!  Oh my God, how can anyone do that to themselves.  This is like way beyond painful.  Alright, let me try this again.
    -Joe did you give him that hyperknife back??
    -Nope, I gave it Mark.  He's trying to cut our commentary out of the movie.
    :Tag, Is he trying to use the hyperknife to cut himself out of the frwoa?
    :More like out of exitsence entirely.

    --exist because of the seven anti-pool-orb-foci.  Therefore...
    -Here we go!  It's all about to make sense!
    -Grab the popcorn!
    -Skip >>|
    In that case, we should call the pentagon to let them know what's going on.
    No, we can't inform the pentagon.  They only believed we were being attacked by aliens twice before we had to stop playing that joke.  They did fall for the human squid story, but nothing after that.  No, I'm afraid right now we're all the boy who cried rabid yodling seamonkey.  We're so alone, it's so hopeless...
    -I give up.
    He's almost in tears.
    Wait, do you mean wolf?
    I never cry_wolf.
    Contrivance again.  That's so lazy.
    :Why do I get the feeling all the contrived jokes are contrived set ups for the contrivance jokes?
    -Was that like triple contrivance including that?
    -More like triple quadruple.  The boy who cried wolf was a set up for cry_wolf, but the contrivance was doubled by the hopelessness being a set up for the tears being a set up for a second layer of pun on the word cry, and quadrupled by the mispoken initial line being a set up for the correction inquiry which was in turn a second layer pun on the word wolf when it was literally cried by being spoken while crying, all of which was contrivance for the cry_wolf contrivance line, further contrived for the point of needlessly pointing that obvious fact out, which was all just an elaborate set up for the run on comment I'm making now, which is probably the only witty outcome in the whole ordeal.
    :Touche, Tit.
    Bob, What's cry_wolf?
    It's a bad middle school Earth Horror movie of the 155th billenia like the dumb Xangles werewolf frwoa.  Judo blinked me back there once and we rented it by accident.  I remember the video tape got jammed, and I got this strange feeling like I had to turn the page of reality or something, and then--
    Okay, I got it, I think I can use an old technique called psycho cybernetics to change the perception of the pain, and then--
    -And then?
    -And then?
    -Dude, where's my bot orb?
    And then the single line of non-dialogue in the entire frwoa uselessly informed the readers that there was a knock at the door, because it would have been revealed the next line anyway.
    :Knock, knock, Neo.
    :Follow the lilac flower boy.
    :Knock, knock, Neo.
    :Follow the white mescaline addict.
    :Well that was $#@!ing surreal.
    :I think Obb messed something up way way back at the top of our frwoa skit.
    .And then--hey, where are we?
    .I blinked us forward a couple paragraphs.
    .I thought things seemed kind of silent for a natit.  Wait, you fixed the blink program?
    .Yah, but it didn't work right.  I'm completely rebooting Firefox, knock on wood...

    -Shit, is that Peter knocking?
    -How many times have I told him to use the $#@!ing doorbell!?
    -Hey, Peter.  Where you been?
    -They got our shifts mixed up.  I had to cover for Jimmy.
    -Wait, Jimmy?  The guy who stole my Area 51 gofer job?
    -Bright side, Brett.  We don't call you "gofer" any more.
    -Yah him.  He'll be by any time later tonight.
    -What are you guys watching?  Hey is that pizza?
    -Just another grade B Frangles frwoa called Blorkk.
    -Which one?  This one?  I-- wait, Joanne, what the hell are you wearing?

    -You think that's bad, ask Bretta about the purple toy army tank she bought her.
    -You get all the fun, Mark.
    Hey, is that a knock?
    Who is it?
    It's me, sir.
    Gofer, what do you want?
    I--I have a name, sir.
    Sorry Mark.
    Jimmy.   
    Sorry Jark.  What do you want?
    Does anyone in here want some donuts?  The aliens sent them over, except I think they called them something different, donunuts or something...  I think this one's coconut
    Ralph, don't!  They could be--
    -This movie is already confusing.  Can we watch something else?
    -You think jumping in the middle is bad, try watching it from the beginning.
    -Skip >>|

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