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Re: Househeld

Postby Sharkalien » Sun May 22, 2016 9:20 pm

Considering how the BBCode is fucked up on this forum right now, here's the MSPFA link:

You can still submit commands if you want

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>Househeld: R I S E

Postby Sharkalien » Fri Jul 15, 2016 8:15 am

>Househeld: R I S E



>Leo: Perform a magical pirouette swan-dive out of the window and obtain the beta yourself.


waht a eggscellent idea

>Leo: Your Mom must be confronted; The fastest route is out and down; Defenestrate yourself; You've got some Falling to Do.


hopy shit



the earf sawllohws you hole!!!!!

your fuckig dead

>Go back

>Leo: Prostrate yourself to MOM and beg for the mail.


If you go down stairs to get it, she will likely monopolize hours of your time. You decide to chill out up here for a while until the dust settles.

Sometimes you feel like you are stuck in this room. Held, if you will, in a sense which possibly fringes on the eponymous.

Looks like a chum is trying to get in touch with you. You ought to tell them how IT is about to HIT the FAN in your house.

Whatever. You got worthless shitpoints to rack up first.

>Leo: Examine Mouth Sounds poster.


You climb up onto your bed to get a real good look of this real good-looking poster.



Oh, NEIL. How can we be as glorious as you?

THE MAN, THE LEGEND, and THE BRAINS behind the "MOUTH" series and SHITPOINTS™ system. Ever since the debut of MOUTH SOUNDS last year, he's been churning out mashup albums like there's no tomorrow!
Here are just a couple he's put out so far:

Mouth Sounds
Mouth Silence
Mouth Around the Clock
Mouth Rinse
Mouth Mouth
Mouth Mister
Mouth Whispers
Mouth Gurgles
Mouth Strangler
Mouth Smash
Mouth Spit
Mouth Bubbles
Mouth Club
Mouth Powers
Swamp Mouth
Mouth World
Space Mouth
Astro Mouth
Stellar Mouth
Mouth Food
Why Can't We Be Bread
Mouth Kiss
Cat Got Your Mouth
Mouth Off
Mouth Mint
Mouth Breath
Mouth Fury
Mouth Fieri
Mouth Doctor
Mouth Awards
Mouth Grave
Back from the Mouth
Back to the Mouth
Mouth Will Rise Again
Mouth 101
Mouth Full
Mouth Original
Mouth Master
Mouth Remastered
Mouth Man
Mourning Mouth
Morning Mouth
Straight From the (Horse's) Mouth
Mouth Braces
Mouth Teeth
Mouth Tounges
French Mouth
Mouth Keys
Mouth Ivories
Mouth Void
Into the Mouthhole
Mouthassic Park
Jurassic Mouth
Jursmashic Mouth
Mouth Park
Family Mouth
Mouth Family
Mouth Mom
American Mouth
Mouth Cave
Cave Mouth
Mouth Past
Mouth Present
Mouth Future
Mouth Presents
Mouth Movies
Mouth Motion
Mouth in Motion
Mouth Motions
Mouth Potions
Mouth Civilizations
Mouth Ships
Mouth Treasures
Mouth Lemonade
Mouth Zone
Mouth Jam
Mouth America
Mouth Dakota
Mouth Hemisphere
Mouth Lasers

Boy, what a MOUTHFUL.

Honestly, you'd prefer a new LEMON DEMON album over a joke one any day, but you'll take what you can get.

You just hope he's content with all the shitpoints he's rolling in.

>Leo: Kiss the Cicierega poster in the interest of gaining said points.


You consider kissing the poster strictly for the purpose of a SHITPOINT TRANSACTION, but it occurs to you that might be a bit too pleasurable? If anything, it would COST shitpoints.

But... those lips...



They're so lush and plump...



You KISS the man on the lips, SHITPOINTS BE DAMNED.

This goes on for a good three minutes.

Okay, that's enough of that. You're going to ruin the poster.

>Leo: Level up!


You reach the prestigious ASSGENIE rank and are awarded TWO (2) TURD TOKENS for the vapid deed.

Hey, now you can afford that keyboard solo!

>Leo: Don ye mechanical arm and slay the mother beast, retrieve thine treasure post haste.


But there's still not enough for a favorable fight, or even whatever the hell KITE SAILING is.

God, why do you even bother?? At this rate, you'd have gained enough points to momentarily almost smile by the age of 80!



What you need is an edge over her. Something you can't get from an arbitrary bullshit game construct. Something...

Outta this world.

>Leo: Examine contents of OUTTA SPACE CHEST.


In here you keep an array of artistic and whimsical ARTIFACTS, each one a devastating weapon in the hands of a WICKED MUSICIAN or a STUNNING JACK OF ALL TRADES.

You are a master of none.


Some of this stuff may come in handy at some point. For now, you decide to just take the BLOOD CAPSULES.

>Leo: Grab a weapon and confront your Mother. Preferably an incredibly shitty weapon, like that guitar standing against your wall.


It's a keytar numbnuts.


You allocate your MIDI KEYTAR to your STRIFE DECK.

>Leo: Examine blue music note.


That's just your OTAMATONE (オタマトーン), and alongside it your STYLOPHONE, two toy instruments of sweet analog goodness. You just wish the Otamatone had a polyphonic keyboard instead of a ribbon controller, and that the Stylophone didn't need a stylus to play notes.

If only you could combine the characteristics of two or more objects, like a keyboard and a guitar. WOW, wouldn't that be something?

>Leo: Investigate brown specks leading up to your window sill.


Whoa, how did you not notice this earlier? A large trail of ANTS coming through a crack in your windowsill is kind of a hard thing to miss.

They seem to be amassing towards a specific point...



No wonder there are so many ants, there's a fucking open bag of FRUIT GUSHERS. How long has this been here?? That's not even same font they use anymore!

Wait a minute... is that... Shrek?
That movie came out in 2001.

Has this box of hexagonal fruit snacks really been back here for 15 years?

I really regret making this fanventure about Sburb and not just getting a CD copy of the latest Lemon Demon album now

Also I spent way too much time making that stupid ostentatious banner

EDIT: I thought updating the phpBB was supposed to improve functionality. I had to remove the spoilers because they weren't opening

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>Househeld: Mouth Will Rise Again

Postby Sharkalien » Sun Dec 18, 2016 4:42 am

>Leo: Maybe it's a Shrek sequel. Taste a little gush to test that theory.


Oh yeah. This is definitely from 2001.




>Leo: Eat those blood capsules. You know you want to.


Well in all likelihood, fake blood IS made out of corn syrup, cocoa powder, and red food coloring... And if it DOESN'T taste good, there's always the gushers to wash away the flavor.....




Not again.

>Leo: Commit formicide.


You're not making off with those gushers so easily, antholes!

The ANTPOCALYPSE commences.

You INHALE DEEPLY to blow the ants off of your shit.








You cannot do it. You just can't bring yourself to harm these poor innocent ants.

You decide to spare them instead, and perhaps one day they'll even return the favor, kinda like "The Lion and the Mouse" sort of deal.

>Leo: Adopt ant on head as new pet.


The ANT that was on your head is now on the OUTTA SPACE CHEST.

You dub thee, ant, GENERAL ANTONIO SALIENT. You are the leader now, Antonio.

It's you.

>Leo: Take the gushers and become the ant king.


You captchalogue the FRUIT SNACKS, but with no intentions of ruling as an ARTHROPOD SOVEREIGN. You just don't want more of them running around your bedroom.

>Leo: Examine 3rd and 4th walls of room.


>Leo: Stop goofing around! Respond to your friend, where are your manners?



You've left them hanging long enough.

You pull up to your LAPTOP. This is where you spend most of your time. You decorated your desktop with some rather handsome WALLPAPER which you made yourself, so to speak. You are really proud of it.

Your desktop is also littered with various MEDIA PROJECT FILES. You are so bad at these mediums sometimes you wonder why you even bother with them.

Your BROWSER is minimized. You were surfing the web earlier. And your PRATTLECHAT application is flashing. A friend is trying to get in touch with you. But since your browser is already open, perhaps some more procrastination is in order...?

>Leo: Open Prattlechat!!!!!!


Only one of your PEEPS is logged in. He's sent you a message.

>Leo: Open message.


-- toiletEmperor [TE] began prattling with ectoTerrestrial [ET] at 15:23 --

TE: Sup, fucker.
ET: Hey dude, sorry I didn’t reply sooner
TE: Yeah, you totally kept me hanging.
TE: What kept you? Kissing one of your posters of Neil again?

ET: Pffft. No
TE: I bet you were rubbing your butt all over it, too.
ET: stfu
ET: What I do behind closed doors is none of your business, mister

TE: Just admit it and I'll leave you alone.
ET: Okay so I gave it a little smooch, big whoop
ET: It’s for good luck

TE: Oh yeah, I bet you want to get lucky with him, if you know what I mean.
TE: If you catch my drift.
TE: If you get my meaning.
TE: I’m implying you want some of the C-Man.

ET: *scoff* The thought never crossed my mind
TE: Okay, then what are you planning on doing with all that extra “luck”?
ET: Your mother
TE: >:O
TE: All right, I set myself up on that one.
TE: To subvert the fact that I was totally owned, I’m going to change the subject.
TE: Whatcha get for ya birthday?
TE: Any special deliveries, maybe? Hmmmmm?

ET: If you discount the possible delivery of my Sburb copy, then jack shit. My mom’s probably going to make me do like, 20 hail-Mary’s if I want to get my hands on any of my presents
ET: All I want is to eat cake and play games with my friends today, man. What right does she have to stand in the way of a gay time

TE: She won’t let you open them? Damn.
ET: I DID find an open box of stale fruit gushers, however. Maybe today won’t be such a bad day after all
ET: Hey maybe if I’m lucky, Neil will release another mashup album later
ET: Or maybe if I’m REALLY lucky, he’ll finally release the new LD album! Oh my god oh my god omg, “’Dark Horse’ trotting your way this spring 2015” he said, remember?
ET: The hard driving guitars and soulful lyrics will rock us to our very core

TE: Easy there, tiger, don’t cream your pants just yet.
TE: This could be yet another one of his cheeky antics. Or do I dare say, “horseplay?”

ET: You really think he would do that? Just go on the Internet and tell lies?
TE: Yes. That’s like his entire bit.
ET: He isn’t some one-dimensional character cooked up by a teenaged fan-fic writer
ET: He is NEIL CICIEREGA, the most handsomest, smartest, talented, most beautiful man to ever bless the earth with his music, face, and Shitpoints™ system
ET: Speaking of which, dude I need your help
ET: Send me all your shitpoints

TE: What? No.
ET: Plllssss
TE: Why do you want my stupid poopoints?
ET: I don’t have enough sP’s to beat my mom in a showdown. I will get my ass handed to me if I don’t get these motherfucking points. Please, I only need like, 300 more
TE: Ahahaha, fuck, hahahahahahaha.
ET: PLEASE dude, this is SERIOUS, my ass cheeks are on the LINE here
TE: I don’t have that many! I haven’t bothered collecting them at all for the past few months, actually. There’s no point in it.
TE: Literally, there's no points in it, because they're not real or worth anything.

ET: Get with the times, man, sP’s are the cryptocurrency of the future
TE: They’re a joke that went way out of control. People took it too far. Don’t you remember how Neil got into trouble with the FBI?
ET: Pfft, yeah right. Those people were in those coal mines voluntarily
TE: Ehhh…
ET: Look, are you going to give them to me or what
TE: Yeah, fine. It's not like they'll be relevant or anything ever again.
TE: Here are 90 shitpoints on their way down the toilet.

-- toiletEmperor [TE] sent ectoTerrestrial [ET] “90 sP’s" --
ET: Sweet, thanks
ET: I guess

TE: Do you really need to confront your mom like this in order to get your gifts?
TE: It’s a really ass-backwards way of going about it.
TE: Just try swiping them from under her nose. Her halitosis should hide your scent.

ET: Dude, that’s my mom you’re talking about
ET: Her nose is strong enough to cut through any powerful stench

TE: Then wear a disguise.
TE: Leo who? Never met the guy.
TE: There’s no way she’ll be able to recognize her own son. It’s foolproof, trust me.

ET: Well I do have a beagle puss, but I think wearing that while trying to steal behind my mom’s back will just make her even angrier
TE: I was just kidding about the disguise.
ET: I’ll wear it anyway. Might even get some bonus sP’s out of it
ET: Alright, I’m gonna go do that now
ET: brb. If I don’t reply in 15 minutes, call the police

TE: Haha, got it. Good luck, man.
ET: I’m serious. 20 minutes, tops
TE: Oh.

>Leo: Equip Buttdew Shitprince face.


Okay, it hurts like hell though. But this isn't the disguise you got up to equip.

No no, not the one at all. You have something much, MUCH more cleverer in store...

>Leo: Don incredibly ridiculous disguise you most likely have lying nearby.


You captchalogue the BEAGLE PUSS GLASSES and ALIEN ANTENNAE HEADBAND, then combine the two cards to craft the UNEARTHLY CUNNING DISGUISE.

Mmn, what is this "Leo" specimen of which you speak? You have not nor ever will encounter...

Say, this disguise isn't half bad.

>Leo: Examine 90's Design 101 textbook.



This thing makes for a good paperweight than it does as an instructional guide. Your mom bought it for your THIRTEENTH birthday. You thanked her for the gift, then tried to tell her that the book wasn't actually all that comprehensive despite its HEFTY BREADTH. This made her upset as all she heard was, "this is a real crappy gift, mom."

She started yelling about what an AWFUL LITTLE INGRATE you are and then something about how you should read the BIBLE instead. She then took away your gifts and made you actually read the Bible cover to cover to get them back.

And thus began the annual tradition of reciting passages from the GOOD BOOK in exchange for presents. Just like Christmas. And Halloween.

But it's okay, you play PRACTICAL JOKES on her the day after as restitution.

You put the book back in the box, where the memories can be repressed.

>Leo: Examine Berenstein Bears book.


This is one childhood memory you'll never repress. The BERENSTEIN BEARS have always been there for you, every step of the way, teaching morals about FAMILY and FRIENDSHIP, or whatever.

Because who better to teach children life lessons than a pack of wild forest animals?

>Leo: Take the Berenstein book with you, in case of computer trouble.


You sure hope no computers give you any complications in the near future.

So far you have captchalogued the R/C FAKE ARM, BLOOD PELLETS, FRUIT SNACKS, and STORY BOOK.

This is going to be one shitty rhyme.

>Leo: Sing a war song to boost bravery.


All this item rhyming is rousing you up. You belt out one of your favorite songs to dissolve your qualms.

Diablo raises an eyebrow,
Strawberry milkshake in hand
I try my best to distract myself
But he really wants to be in the band
Can he play the drums, or the clarinet?
Electric xylophone? Or better yet,
The euphonium or the clockwork flute?
He’s just standing there in a business suit

Angels on the left side, demons on the right
Never in the dark, never in the light
Center of the sunbeam light show flower seed
This is all I have, this is all I need

Original synergized molecules
Revolving electrified power tools
The end of the world on April Fool’s Day

What have you done to my necktie?
You’ve tied it up in a knot
This is the final mistake you’ll make
You think you’re misunderstood, but you’re not
Got a show tonight, but tomorrow you’re out
Someone call me up a talent scout
Better yet, just usher that Diablo back
Give him a guitar, paint it with a Union Jack

Lemons on the left side, demons on the right
Never in the dark, never in the light
Center of the sunbeam light show flower seed
This is all I have, this is all I need

Life in the chair at the hair salon
Taking the time to reflect upon
Some things that are too difficult to convey

Ooh, original synergized molecules
Revolving electrified power tools
The end of the world on April Fool’s Day

>Leo: Exit the room.


You exit into the HALLWAY.

On one wall hangs a picture of the very marketable and family-friendly Adam DeVine's face. You don't know why he's wearing that ridiculous headband. Has he ever starred in anything involving aliens? He must have.

On the other wall is one of your MOM's gross frogs. Or GOD'S BEAUTIFUL AMPHIBIANS, as she is quick to correct anyone who would venture such brazen assumption.

>Leo: Do a sneaky YOUTH SCURRY downstairs.



You quietly tippy-toe down the stairwell as youthfully as possible. Goosebumps begin to spring up with every step you take.

The storm blows frigid air into the boarded fireplace, chilling the living room.

You hear exasperated grumbling coming from the KITCHEN. Sounds like MOM'S in a good mood! No doubt she's tickled pink with the cake she surely bought for you at the store. Getting the game now should be a...


Oh who are you kidding, she's going to obliterate your face off the fucking planet. This mission is going to be exactly as difficult as you imagined.

>Leo: Admire your mother's Amphibian Associates.


This chap here stands proudly with his lily parasol held straight up. Enlightened knowing the storm won't last while everyone else is downcast by it.



The frog on the top shelf lounges lazily a lot, listening to the pitter-patter of precipitation against the window pane deep in thought.

Then there's the red-eyed tree frog, readying itself to pounce into action whenever it can. The storm may wash in some tumultuous jams.

And the gentleman at the bottom shelf is just an indentured servant.



Last, but not least, is the HEAD HONCHO HIMSELF. A wisely old king perched atop a well deserved velvet pillow, for his legend states he was crowned leader of all aquatic life after quelling the war between the reptilians and amphibians.

What a load of CROCK.

>Leo: Captchalogue the frog figures.


You have no intention of clogging your sylladex with any of these godawful...

Oh, frog dammit. In a momentary lapse of concentration, you captchalogue the CROWNED CROAKER statue.

>Leo: Enter fireplace.



You totally would, if only you had a HAMMER on you. The ONE time you really need it, and you left it in the BASEMENT.

Your mother boarded it up in a frenzy after one of your friends kept bombarding your house with parcels via AIRMAIL. Hot diggety dog, could that pilot aim!

Your friend said she will send you some pliers the good old fashioned way so you could pry the stick out from up your mother's ass.

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