The Evolution Revolution

Archive for the month “April, 2012”

More ‘Top Searches’

These are the current searches that have been leading the most people to my blog:

pokemon the cards ppl never has
the strongest pokemon card in the history of pokemon cards
strongest pokemon card
the avengers 2012 sucks

you guys need to stop playing games for girls, and also why would you say that the Avengers sucks? At all? It’s not even out yet.

Wert Em /bark/s

A story by Wert_Ac, creator of karkatyells and kidnapper of Andrew Hussie, from the MSPA IRC at

18:38 Wert_Ac clears his throat, and prepares to start speaking in present tense regardless of this story taking place in the past.
18:39 *** eqdw joined #MSPA
18:39 Wert_Ac I slowly open my crusty eyes on a Sunday morning, laying catatonic in my futon.
18:39 BISlover4412 eqdw wert is telling a story
18:39 Claus HI eqdw
18:39 eqdw ?
18:39 Wert_Ac The time displaying on the clock in front of me says “3:02 PM” .
18:39 BISlover4412 Listen carefully, and take some notes
18:39 Wert_Ac It occurs to me that I slept past what would be school hours if it were a week day and flop out of bed.
18:40 Poh back
18:40 Wert_Ac I wipe what I hope is an excessive amount of drool off my face, and smear it into my already stained carpet.
18:40 techloveArtist
18:40 techloveArtist
18:40 Wert_Ac The clock now read 3:05 PM.
18:40 techloveArtist ok, now you can go back to your sto- ok
18:41 Poh vriskas lacking of spiders to other pokemon ratio scares me
18:41 Wert_Ac I open some drawers and pull out some cloths. Jeans. A t-shirt that says “Normal people scare me”, and some underpants.
18:41 Wert_Ac I slip into my sunday attire and prepare to start my day.
18:41 Pbhead erudab gas 5 magicarps?
18:42 Pbhead lol
18:42 techloveArtist Poh: 1) could be according to personality 2) could be not enough spider pokemon
18:42 techloveArtist Pbhead: yup
18:42 Wert_Ac I search though my house, looking for any sign of inhabitants.
18:42 Pbhead meh
18:42 Wert_Ac It appears everyone left me behind to take care of some chore. Perhaps grocery shopping.
18:42 Wert_Ac I decide, in stead of having breakfast, I’ll go for a walk.
18:43 Pbhead Vriska would not care a shit about spiders, she would be picking things totally based on stats and munchkining.
18:43 Pbhead spiders would just be a bonus.
18:43 Wert_Ac I exist my home, locking the door behind me, and take a right up the street.
18:43 BISlover4412 wow
18:43 Wert_Ac mortMan’s house appears to be empty. I pass it and reach the dead end of the street.
18:43 BISlover4412 On the test I took today, “exist” was typoed into “exit”
18:43 Claus How do you exist an home?
18:43 BISlover4412 And now it’s the other way around
18:44 techloveArtist ^
18:44 Wert_Ac As
I usually do, I walk through the foliage at the end of the street and
cross into another. I continue forward across this slightly more active
road, and climb over a fence on the other side.
18:44 *** Syrra quit (Quit: Leaving)
18:45 Wert_Ac The fence clearly has a sign saying “no trespassing”. I do not care because I’m a rebel.
18:46 Wert_Ac The townhouses on the other side of the fence tower over me in their unmatched levels of boredom.
18:46 Wert_Ac the walk is beginning to look like a bad idea.
18:46 BISlover4412 Oh shit
18:46 BISlover4412 We got some conflict up in here
18:46 Poh damn right we do
18:46 Poh wait in werts story?
18:46 BISlover4412 ya
18:46 Poh oh
18:46 *** Katai joined #MSPA
18:47 BISlover4412 Katai wert is telling a story
18:47 Poh best story
18:47 BISlover4412 Sit, listen, take notes, etc.
18:47 Poh and have fun
18:47 Wert_Ac Several
hours go by as I wander through desert of boring, brown-painted homes.
Street after street after street, all of which given impossible to
remember names, I dig myself further and further into this maze of a
housing complex.
18:48 Wert_Ac My watch now reads 4:31 PM.
18:48 Wert_Ac i check my cell to see of mother called. The battery is dead. I have no way of calling for help, or knowing if I’m missed.
18:48 BISlover4412 Nuuuuu ;_;
18:49 Wert_Ac The marathon of all walks is taking its tole on my knee caps.
18:49 Wert_Ac I can feel cartilage crack with every couple steps.
18:49 Wert_Ac The muscles in my legs are beginning to ache.
18:50 Wert_Ac And being in the middle of a townhouse area at 4 pm on a sunday means I am completely
18:50 Wert_Ac and utterly
18:50 Wert_Ac alone.
18:50 Wert_Ac I continue on what appears to be some form of main road for what feels like an hour.
18:50 Wert_Ac My watch stopped working at 4:33 PM, giving me with no bearing of time other than the position of the sun.
18:51 Wert_Ac I reach the end of the road, and wind up in a parking lot.
18:51 Wert_Ac Bordering the car-less lot, is a playground of sorts.
18:51 Wert_Ac Two swing sets and a slide sit in filthy, litter-ridden sand.
18:52 Wert_Ac I walk over to one of the swings, and plant my bottom hard down into it to take a rest.
18:52 Wert_Ac being always suspicious, I adjust my gaze to various points in my line of vision.
18:52 BISlover4412 (This is incredibly symbolic of the US economy and its state of debt to production and export ratio)
18:53 Wert_Ac Over
to the right, I see an opening to some sort of path. It leads into a
woodland area, which apparently serves as a buffer between the
townhouses and the rest of the world.
18:53 Wert_Ac I eagerly make my way into the woods, hoping they will take me home.
18:53 Wert_Ac the area is silent.
18:54 Wert_Ac The only audible company is the sound of leaves rustling in the wind.
18:54 Wert_Ac the path winds deeper into the woods, crosses a creek via fallen tree, and ascends a steep hill.
18:54 Wert_Ac At this point, the path splits.
18:55 Wert_Ac I can either go down the other side, or continue along the hill’s ridge.
18:55 Wert_Ac I choose the latter option, and walk onward, gradually increasing in height.
18:55 Wert_Ac At the peak of this mountainous terrain, I encounter an odd clearing.
18:56 Wert_Ac trees surround a circular meadow, filled with vibrant, green grass.
18:56 Wert_Ac In the center, stands a small, dark, leafless tree.
18:56 Wert_Ac At this point, I am delirious from hunger, thirst, and exhaustion.
18:56 BISlover4412 is shivering with anticipation
18:57 Wert_Ac I instinctively wave my hand at the tree with a careful gesture, as one would to a man found lost in a desert.
18:57 Wert_Ac The tree bends to the wind, almost as if it is responding to my motion.
18:58 Wert_Ac I cautiously approach it, curious to what spiritual mysteries lie within its seemingly dead bark.
18:58 Wert_Ac “..h-..hello?” I say, feeling a little foolish.
18:59 Wert_Ac The wind quickly changes direction, allowing a warm, gentle breeze to brush my cheek.
18:59 *** Everanix joined #MSPA
18:59 *** Everanix quit (Quit: ajax IRC Client)
18:59 *** Everanix joined #MSPA
18:59 BISlover4412 hey everanix
18:59 Claus Hi bye hi
18:59 Wert_Ac i walk closer to the tree. It is now within arms reach.
18:59 BISlover4412 wert is telling a story
18:59 Everanix Hello all
18:59 Claus Hello you
18:59 Everanix OOH -sits to listen-
19:00 Wert_Ac It feels as if it is radiating a warm, comforting energy.
19:00 Wert_Ac I close my eyes and gently place my hand upon its trunk.
19:00 Wert_Ac I feel a strong gust of wind abruptly blow my hair back.
19:01 Wert_Ac I
feel the urge to keep my eyes closed through it, and manage to maintain
my calm, relaxed pose through the entirety of the gust.
19:01 Wert_Ac Upon it settling to a breeze, I open my eyes and step back.
19:01 Wert_Ac The tree has been revived. It is green, bountiful, and vibrant.
19:01 Wert_Ac a single leaf falls from the tree, pointing diagonally down the hill.
19:02 Wert_Ac I nod at the tree, understanding its clear message.
19:02 Wert_Ac “Thank you,” I say to it, smiling. I turn my back and walk in the direction of the leaf’s point.
19:02 Wert_Ac Within minutes, I find myself at my doorstep.
19:02 Wert_Ac Home.
19:02 Wert_Ac Safe.
19:02 Wert_Ac Alive.
19:02 Wert_Ac *fin*

Trol Seasson Rock Oprah Music Video: Continental Shift

Why was I not informed that this existed. This…. is beautiful.

Comic Reactions- Adventure Time by Ryan North #1 and #2

pre-read material:

17:32 Thedude3445 ok now who wants some adventure time!
17:32 Thedude3445
17:32 vanquishdValiant if you narrate the adventure time comics I will eviscerate you with your mouse cord
17:32 vanquishdValiant through the internet
17:32 Thedude3445 why D:
17:32 BISlover4412 Do it anyways thedude
17:32 vanquishdValiant when given the options of garrote or eviscerate I chose yes
17:33 Thedude3445 ryan north
17:33 BISlover4412 It’s worth it
17:33 Thedude3445 ryan north wrote it, vanquish
17:33 vanquishdValiant yes
17:33 vanquishdValiant I know
17:33 vanquishdValiant thats why you shut up
17:33 vanquishdValiant because I want to read them
17:33 Thedude3445 ah ok
17:33 bewilderedShenanigan but… how can you eviscerate with a cord? do i even want to know?
17:33 vanquishdValiant 17:31 vanquishdValiant when given the options of garrote or eviscerate I chose yes
17:33 Thedude3445 but I really wanna read them too….
17:33 bewilderedShenanigan and what if his mouse is wireless?
17:33 vanquishdValiant even better

Yeah so I didn’t actually do it and I read it by itself. Oops. 😛 This is old; from March 29th. I completely forgot to post this.

Comic Reactions- Avengers Assemble #1

Only pictures this time. So it’s like those game playthroughs I used to do, except with a comic.

Apparently this comic got pretty terrible reviews. But it’s by Bendis and Bagley. How could it possibly be bad? They made Ultimate Spider-Man and stuff.


I read through it and I didn’t think it was bad. But there were some things that stood out to me:

Look at this! Marvel has completely gone off the deep end! They are plagiarizing from Andrew Hussie and Homestuck. I mean, look. There just happens to be 12 people, all with the exact same symbols as the Trolls. Seriously? They changed the colors, but not the symbols. They even look like my headcanon for the humanswapped trolls. Obviously, this is copyright infringement, and Marvel needs to be shut down for ripping off an indie webcomic creator.

I am so glad that this line was finally used somewhere, because I have been feeling the same way for years.

wwoah im like made a wwater noww

This is what we didn’t see happened after Tavros prototyped Tinkerbull during Hivebent.

Trol Seassib=

Treehouse (Rough Raft)

I am posting this in case something bad happens and I am unable to print my Chemistry project or some crap like that.

By B.A. Baker
I haven’t ever written anything both realistic and serious before to any degree of success; this is my experiment with doing so. I hope it isn’t too clichéd. The jamming in of Chemistry terms (which should be in boldface, as I was not sure if my teacher would be able to see underlinings) may or may not complicate how easily I can write a story that isn’t completely silly.
“Please enter quietly, and do not disturb the other patients. Thank you.”
This was the first time that Mark had actually visited his son at the hospital; almost a full week after he was admitted. The shock simply had not set in for him until now, and he was not even sure if his son would want him to come by at all.
There Daniel lay, unconscious on the hospital bed. Mark knew that he shouldn’t think it, but his first thought was that he looked terrible. If he recalled correctly, Daniel had never even been to the hospital before; seeing him like this should have been unsettling, but it was not. His sleeping face should have reminded him of when he was just a boy, and Mark would tuck him in after a story, but it did not. It only looked like a man in a coma. Mark felt no sadness, even while he was standing right over him. He felt only frustration.
Why Mark greeted Daniel when he knew that he obviously could not hear him, being in such a poor state, was a mystery as well. Maybe these were the stages of grief or something? He did not know. All he knew is that his son was in critical condition, and all he was doing was standing there, making idle one-sided conversation, and that was what upset him the most. Yet he continued to do so.
“I’m… sorry I’m late,” he told Daniel. “I would have come sooner, but… I didn’t. So… uhh… How have you been?” No answer, of course. And he knew how Daniel had been doing. He was such an idiot for even asking that.
He continued. “You… I hope you make it. The doctors aren’t sure what’s wrong with you… but… If there is anything I could have done to help, I sure didn’t do it.” He paused- chuckled a bit. “That’s probably true of most things in your life though. I sure wasn’t the best dad, was I?”
Looking at all of the solutions being injected into Daniel’s body, he thought back to his past life, that of a chemist. He was a fairly successful one, at that, once scoring a high-placing job at a cleaning supplies company. Those were some of the best times of his life at the time, he remembered. The company was, during his tenure at the business, working on new acid and base formulas to help with cleaning floors, dusting, drain pipes, and other household items. It was not hard at all, really. They were trying to achieve a way to combine acids and bases into the products so that, once the cleaning was done, consumers could mix them, causing a neutralization reaction, which would produce safe water as a product. His job was to find the specific equivalent eights of the equivalents of the acids and bases, so that there would be exactly enough Hydrogen and Hydroxide atoms that there would be none left over. This was done simply by finding the normality, or the equivalents per liter of cleaning solution. It was an easy job for any chemist, and he made about $50,000 a year for it. This was a while back, too, as Mark remembered, so that was even more money.
Daniel was probably one of the richer kids in his entire school because of this, which Mark thought should have made his son proud of him. When he was fired in the end, they had enough money saved up that they could be pretty well off until Daniel went to college, and they pretty much were.

“Daniel,” Mark began speaking again. “I really did think you were happy because we were well-off. I worked hard, and earned what I put into my job. I thought that was enough.”
Eventually, he did run into a serious problem with his chemist job, with one product having to be recalled due to a completely inaccurate concentration, being much too powerful. He and his coworkers studied for weeks, looking for any errors in the chemical formulas; Mark was the first to find it, after intense scrutinizing of every aspect. It was almost determined a factory error until Mark found that it was a problem with the very core of the entire formula; there was an assumed standard solution that was incorrect. It was not diluted as much as it was supposed to, and the mass percent of the solute dissolved in the solvent was inaccurate as a result. It ruined the entire product because of one simple miscalculation.
Mark was hailed as a hero to the entire company for this, as he saved them from bankruptcy after investors began selling their stocks after the recall. One more month of their declining stock prices and the company would have been de-listed from the stock market, analysts predicted, but Mark found the error, and they were able to re-release the product to the public. Because of its previous infamy in the media, the new version of the product was widely publicized, and became an instant bestseller as a result. That the promotions and raises Mark received were gratuitous was a vast understatement.
Yet, all of the hours that Mark put into the project of figuring out the solution’s error were not without consequence. During those few weeks of investigation, he put in over 75 hours a week. He did not even go home some nights. He knew Daniel would probably be upset by this, but he was doing it for him, and he knew Daniel would be able to see this. Once they received all the benefits from Mark’s discovery, he would fully understand why his job was so important to him.
“You were just a kid. I didn’t realize it back then, but you were just a kid. You couldn’t have understood.”
The big promotion that Mark was given also meant more hours in the office; it neared 60 a week on average, much more than a regular full-time employee would ever get. The payload was massive, double what he was making before, but this meant that he saw Daniel even less than before. And Daniel resented him for this. When Mark had to work on Christmas Eve because of a massive December 26th rebranding campaign, Daniel wasn’t even upset, because he had already done similar things at his 5th grade graduation ceremony and his whole Fall Break. It was simply normalcy.
It took a long time for Mark to finally realize that he wasn’t spending enough time with his son. It was a fairly warm day in early May when it hit him. Luckily, school was almost done, and he could spend all the time he wanted with Daniel. He tried to think of an activity that they could do together to pass the time in June and July and August, and realized that they should build a treehouse in the backyard. He had one back when he was a kid, and it was a blast to hang out with his friends in every afternoon afterschool.
“C’mon, it’ll be loads of fun!” He had told his son, trying to convince him to join him in this project.
“Dad,” Daniel replied, “Why do I even need a treehouse? I’m already twelve years old. Isn’t it a bit late?”
“Nonsense, Daniel. You are only as young as you feel!”
“Isn’t that what old people say? Not young people? At all?”
“Oh, whatever. You are going to help me build this treehouse, and you are going to like it.”
They started on June 12th. The supplies were easy to come by, and they had more than enough money to afford it. What was difficult was the building itself. Neither of them were particularly construction oriented, as they fumbled around with tools, nearly injuring themselves and each other many times over. But it was fun, for Mark at least.
When the project began to drag on into July, Mark noticed that Daniel was becoming increasingly agitated at him. He wasn’t even sure why. He kept building, all day every day that he was of, and didn’t even notice when Daniel would head back inside after fifteen minutes of working. Finally one day, around July 18th or so, Mark needed Daniel’s help carrying a board, and when he wasn’t around, he went back inside.
“Daniel?” He asked.
“Dad….” Began his son. “I don’t want to build this treehouse anymore. It’s a waste of time. Why don’t you just come back in, and we can watch some TV or something?”
Mark did not reply. He remembered the moment distinctly now, as he looked over his near-death son. It was a life-changing moment for both of them. Nothing particularly dramatic happened, but it destroyed Mark. He continued to work on the treehouse obsessively, even on work days. This eventually cost him his job, but he kept on. He never asked Daniel for assistance again, however.
By October, he realized that he could not finish the treehouse alone. He would tinker with it now and then of the next few years, but it would never be completed in any form; not enough for anyone to go in it. The shell of the treehouse still resided at his house to this day, though it had rotted over the years. Mark never went in the backyard anymore. The treehouse simply frustrated him every time he saw it. But now, it was all he could think about in this hospital.
“Daniel… If you can hear this, I want to ask you that if you come out of this okay… Can we please finish that treehouse?”
He did not reply.
Mark looked over to the IV feeding nutrients to Daniel. It was an aqueous solution, with the nutrients dissolved in water, pumping into his blood to keep him alive. It was unsaturated, as most of the bag had been drained, but the nurse came in and saturated it.
“Visiting hours are over. If you would please start to head out.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
It would be another fifty minutes before he finally did leave. All that time, he sat there, speechless, as if Daniel would eventually answer him. As if he was finally bonding with his son like he tried to do for so long. As if this made up for all that time lost on that treehouse.

Coyote and Buffalo: A Modern Tale

We were performing plays in Literature class of the Coyote Tales, which are some Native American folk tales. I wrote an adaptation of one of them. Do not ask why. I also wrote it at midnight that night.

[This is a light-hearted modern adaptation of the Coyote Story known as Coyote and the Buffalo, a traditional Native American folk tale, made for Ms. Allison’s Honors Lit Class, 4th Block 2nd Semester, Spring 2012.]
OLD WOMAN- Must be female
BARTENDER- Must be male
BAND GOTH CHICK- Must be female
BAND LEAD SINGER – Must be female
-bag of herbs
-some desks
[is located at the far stage left.]
In the scenic Downtown Swanecktoo, the frat boys and the jocks run wild and free. This was almost not the case. If Coyote had not been so foolish and greedy, we would not have to drive 15 minutes to go over to Colorado Springs to hear some decent indie bands on Saturday nights, because Swanecktoo wouldn’t be run down by these mainstream losers.
COYOTE- Enter stage right.
[COYOTE opens the DOOR to walk into the café, where BARTENDER, HIPSTER CROW, and HIPSTER MAGGIEPIE are.]
Ah man, someone needs to get that door fixed!
It won’t squeak again, don’t worry. It was only obligated to make one noise this play.
Friggin’ good.
So you hear about the new “King of Fighters ‘94” concert goin’ on tonight?
There’s a good band coming here? To Swanecktoo? You have got to be joshing me.
No man, I am as serious as normal-sized jeans. They’re even coming here, to THIS café.
This is the only café in town; where else would they be able to perform? The Warehouse?
Hahahaha! [a very forced and unenthusiastic laughter] Good one.
Keep it down! I am watching the latest episode of Turren Toppa Gurren Langann!
Seriously! You can’t interrupt a man’s [or woman’s] anime time!
Hey, I can turn that wi-fi off too, you know. Seriously. And then you’d have to go back to pretending to be a part of Occupy Swanecktoo and mooching off of people’s smartphones to use the internet!
Yeah yeah, I hear ya….
Lawls, this reminds me of that time I totally schooled that Buffalo Bull in a religious debate so bad last week. It was like I just grabbed his skull and spat on it, then threw it into the dust. The dust is a metaphor, representing me schooling him in a religious debate
[beat. Everyone is weirded out by this analogy]
Uhh….Wasn’t Buffalo Bull that bully who used to beat you up every day when you kept reciting the dialogue in Paper Mario 2, word for word, all during class?
Yeah…. He used to call me “Kawaii Desu” while he ripped my plad shirts in half… But that’s all in the past, man.
Ugh, I hate these stupid jocks, all over this friggin’ town. So why did you even get in a religious debate with him anyway?
Interesting question. I was just w-
[Enter BUFFALO BULL, stage right. He also opens the DOOR and enters the café.]
Augh! I thought you said he [she] wouldn’t get any more lines!
What, this is [his/her] only role in the whole play. Just give [him/her] [his/her] moment in the limelight, [Mr/Ms] Protagonist!
Fine, sheesh.
[with the most jock-ish accent and tone possible]
Are you brahs done?
Wh….Wh…Why are you here….
Shut it, brosyphilis.
[COYOTE begins panicking.]
Bro, I’m gonna cream ya, bro! No bro ever says that Broddhism is not an acceptable practice for me and my bros!
[BUFFALO BULL begins bashing at COYOTE, and they run around the stage in their silly chase. Finally, Coyote jumps over the bar and stands next to BARTENDER.]
No fair, bro! You know my vertical leap is lacking, bro!
That’s what you deserve for giving a reverse swirly to me in the 7th grade!
Come on, bro… I just need to take some anger out on someone that I consider inferior to make myself feel better about my insecurities! …bro.
Oh, it’s nothing… It’s just Young Buffalo. Ever since he joined his new band, he’s just been out of bro-touch with me. It’s like our bromance is dead…
Maybe you should get a brovorce.
No! We made bro-vows, bro! I said for bro-tter or for worse and I meant it, bro! I just wish he would bro-talk with me about this band! I am so bro-worried that he is fallin’ in with the wrong crowd…
Hmm, what band? Are they independent?
Then I know them. What band?
Some “King of Fighters ’94” or something, bro.
Hey! His band is performing tonight here at the café. We should confront him about it.
You’ll help me?
Oh yeah, I am nice like that.

[BARTENDER and the HIPSTERS go offstage, stage left.]
They wait for a few hours, until the band arrives.
[The band walks in, the members being YOUNG BUFFALO, BAND GOTH CHICK, and BAND LEAD SINGER. They ring the doorbell on this SECOND DOOR and then enter.]
Ding dong. [said in the most boring and monotone way possible]
We are ready to sing, my brosephs!
Yes we are!
[The band begins walking around and pretending to talk and set up and stuff. COYOTE and BUFFALO BULL talk quietly]
Ugh… I’m so nervous! I wonder if he even notices me, bro!
Don’t worry. Here, take this. It’ll calm your nerves.
[COYOTE hands BUFFALO BULL a bag of something.]
I… am not sure this is PG-13.
It’s just some herbs, bro. What did you think it was, drugs? Drugs are so mainstream.
You are such a kawaii desu nerd.
Whatever. Just let me handle this.
[COYOTE walks up to YOUNG BUFFALO. In the background, BUFFALO BULL is dumping the bag out and eating the pot.]
Hello, brometheus! Ready to kiss my swag at this epic concert, bro?
This is from Buffalo Bull.
[punches him and knocks him out.]
Oh hey cool! Thanks bro!
Now what’s my reward?
Uh…. Here. Have these chicks.
Chicks is a demeaning and sexist term!
Here. Have these one of these women.
Oh yeah!
I’ve never dated a hipster before…
Forget those jocks. You need a real man; someone who can tell you the release date and Metascore of every Home Alone movie.
That sounds sexy…
It is.
Oh, I have to warn you… Be careful with her. Don’t let her go. Take good care of her, and she will supply you with meat forever
Sorry, I started quoting from the actual story again. She was a cow in the source material.
[tries to cover hand so she can’t see, while pointing the other thumb at her]
She’s a cow now.
Uhhh…. Hey let’s go outside for a walk!
[They walk outside the café, opening that DOOR 2 again. They are now right outside the store. An OLD WOMAN walks up to them.]
[cockney accent]
‘ello, chums. Hey sonny, [points cane to COYOTE] what a fine woman you have there. Could you help an old lady across the street?
Nah. I’m chilling with my new woman. Do it yourself.
Oh… oh my… Um… Missy… Could you?
[BAND GOTH CHICK and OLD WOMAN walk offstage, stage right. As they walk off, a CAR drives by and runs them over.]
Oh. Well then.
[COYOTE walks back into the café, opening that DOOR 2 again.]
Well, bro?
I need another woman. Mine died.
Really? You lost your woman already, bro?
You’re such a prick. I was almost friends with you hipster guys, but I forgot what KAWAII DESU FREAKS you are!
This town will forever be cursed! Swanecktoo belongs to the mainstream, AD INFINITUM!
Ooh, Latin. Sexy.
[BUFFALO BULL and BAND LEAD SINGER walk out of the café, opening DOOR 2 one last time. They walk offstage, stage right.]
And that is why us hipsters have to drive to Colorado Springs to be involved with the counterculture scene. Because of you, you idiot. [looks at Coyote, and then walks to him and baps him on the head and walks back.]


An Hero is a Hero

I wrote this in different spurts over the past 3 years, each time trying to completely change the way the story went. I edited it to be much more disturbing, leading to what you see now:

Chris Rogers. That was his name. Nobody else in the world could have possibly been like that ginger-haired man. This guy was– murdered!

My name is France. Named after some country or something. After graduating community college with a degree in botany, I decided to go into private detective work. Christ was my first case. Seems the boy was working at a local book-store, clocked out- blam!- dead in the river. Connections to the mafia? Perhaps. That’s my initial thoughts, anyway. Podunks like them will always go out and lynch an innocent redhead.
Twelve. I see the body and guess that it is dead. Eleven. No gunshots, no poision. Had to have been suicide. Ten. Anonymous sources tell me that it was murder. Nine. We take the body to be tested for drugs or alchohol. Eight. None. Sever. I ask about the autopsy. Six. That wasn’t until next week. Five. Had to do it myself. Four. I am considered a maniac by them. Three. Time is running out, hurry. Two. Tick Tick Tick. One. Run.


All dead, I am alive. I am alive? I AM alive! Killing equals bomb? Rogers ate a bomb. Conclusion. No. Wait. Someone put bomb there. Out of rubble and in street. Sirens flashed, my escape. Bomb put in Rogers by killer, but for what reason? Chris is new mystery. I am new mystery. I am alive.


“The exam went quite well, did it not?” Pro asked.
“Quite,” I answered myself.
“Indeed So.”
“Yes, well, er…”
“Okay, I hate to break it to you, but all of the references on your resume were false. Even if you passed the exam, you cannot have the job. You cannot join our agency. I am truly sorry.”
“I am fired, am I not?”
“You were… never hired.”
“So… Please leave.” Unfortunately for Pro, I did not leave. I was in the middle of my case. A bomb had gone off inside the victim’s body, with an explosion that killed my partner and the rest of the building, might I add! No one word could describe the feel or distress I felt I encountered when that blood-cutling scream howled out in the distance as I ran from the police. It was a female. Her beauty outmatched all else as I witnessed the crime of muggery being committed. In an act of selfless compulsion, I smacked the mugger onto the ground, as not to let this woman’s purse be stolen. But suddenly, blackness came upon me and inundated me whole. The next moments were my awakenings back on the streets. They were deserted; not a soul’s trace anywhere on the rust-colored pavement, nor a vehicle. The black tar, dried, was both fresh and tasteful, but also empty. My next decision was to visit the woman whom I so unselfishly rescued, but first, I needed to report in with my commanding officer at the private eye headquarters.
But when I arrived, he, Professional Mau, informed me of my denial of employment, which caused me to anger myself and explain just what I was doing up to this point, by speaking of the mugging, the darkness, the reporting back to Pro, the angering, the telling of the story, the mugging, the darkness, the reporting, the angering, the telling, the mugging, the darkness, the reporting, the angering, the telling…

Grr. Rawr. Muauh.

“Seriously?” [Pro asked.] “Why are you acting like an animal?” [Pro was definitely confused.]
“Focus!” Grr. Ruff. Huhh. Ruff. mmmmmmmmm Bleah.
“Aww, come on. Fuck it, all over my shoes!” [Pro kicked him.]
RAWR. Rarrrrghh. Woof. Ribbit. Grrrrrr.
“I….I’m sorry… France?”
“Are you okay?”
Bark. Ruff. Mleh.
“Please stop this…”
huuhhuuh. grrrrr…..
“I’m gonna cry….” [He cried out.] “You have to stop this!”
ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff


What a wonderous night it was! Naught but the gleaming moonlight resides upon our bodies; a perfect representation of a perfect time spent between two perfect gentlemen. Oh, Pro…. Wow… I have never felt a greater connection to another man in a long, long time.

Thank you.

France Parris stood up and finished the mourning of his fallen comrade– his dead best friend– his former employer– his long-past pal– Professional Mau’s death was a travesty to me, and to France as well. We both knew tough, that it was investigatin’ time.
The first thing to do would be to analyze Pro’s body. Neither of us could find any gunshot wounds… even any obvious signs of poison. He thought it was suicide, but I told him there was no way; that it had to have been a murder. We took the body to be tested for alchhol and drugs. None.
“What about the autopsy?” France asked.
I didn’t respond.
I never responded.
You know why I never responded.

Ten. Eight. Six.

No anonymous sources tell me that it wasn’t until next week.

Nine. Seven. Five.

We take the body to ask if I can do it myself.

Four. Two.

Tick Tick, I am considered a maniac.

Three. One.

Run. Time is running.


No, we take tick to run.
No, we take tick to run.
Run, to tick take we no.
No, to take take to no.

No. to take take to no.
What does that mean? What do you mean? What does mean mean?

My name is Professional Mau. I am a detective. Chris Rogers is a man. He was killed. I went to investigate. I met a man. His name was France Parris. He wanted to be a private detective. I asked him why. He didn’t respond. He never responded. You know why he never responded. No, it was because he was to take no take take to no. That is why. Why is that? No, to take take no take to, was he? Why he never responded, knew I? These are the questions I pondered as I entered the building.

No. Hmph. Now, I had not lived in any of the campaign targets, but in Scandanavia, which was far to the north of the war. I arrived back at home only to find the entire village engulfed in smoldering flames. That’s where things began…No, to I wasn’t alone, as misery loves company. It wasn’t nearly enough to combat an entire legion, but tried we did. Fordo commanded. Holy Rome would crush us! We took off with him.
A memory. While I was distracted, a flaming arrow flew past me, singing my hair. My first kill. Oh no… HEY! take take.
Once again, I let my feelings get ahold of me, and my fighting suffered, I picked up a sword from one of the miscreants and slowly to no decapitated a nearby archer. Waves more were shot out and showed the remaining bloodthirsty fighters, quenching them with a river and washing them down the drain.

Has anyone ever discussed the concept of the fourth wall? Why is it so odd a concept? You are beautiful. If the author wants to address zher audience directly, then let zhem. What an author should not do is step into the story to give a tract. Let the story itself give the message, not the author. This is what I am telling you. I have known you.
Professional Mau jumped down. Now he was surrounded, inundated, even, by several walls, each one more than the last. Naught but the moonlight gleamed upon these walls… these walls, these walls….
The wall. My wall. Our wall… our wall, our wall…


I finally realized the truth behind Chris Rogers’s death. Our wall did it, Pro. It was us. Chris never existed, but he also did. Inside all of us. Just as your beauty is inside of yourself, once again. Thank you.

Time for some Homestuck Sound Test Music

Music never officially released on any albums but are still really awesome? This is my forte.  Time for music!

Note on 11/20/12: I deleted the original dropbox files that I had linked on this post, so instead I will show you a list of a bunch of different Sound Test songs. They are all really cool, listen to them.…this-is-an-old Tavros plays the Cello…e-a-snippet-of Jane Dargason (Beta 1)…ir-worth-since National Anthem by J and Shaggy Astro Kid’s Homestuck things…ts-very-much-a (Piano and Cello thing)…that-i-had-set Meadows
There’s also a Candles & Clockwork remake version on his tumblr that I can’t find (it’s different than the Alpha Version though) Lots of songs here WTFrost A few things on here, not too many though. Mother (A2 Rose Theme) You’re So Rad (Karkat + Terezi Theme) <<< This never happened All of Jit’s stuff. March of the Drones Royal Rumble (Knight vs. Knight) Creepy Doc Scratch thing…s-for-anything Patient…ly-wont-finish Musical Doodle (Kind of a Die Theme)…-work-so-heres Doodle Borealis…ck-possible-on Phattest Kick Ever…-from-alternia UU’s Theme…se-compressors Suncompressor…y-chords-ideas Jake’s funeral or something MIDIs of all the TOTA songs…-doing-anymore Thugkat So many songs on here 0_0…ave-a-taste-of Hardchorale Remastered…-update-i-e-us Anticipate useful maybe idk Courser (original version)…eature=related Cuttlefish Rag…hannel&list=UL 8-bit Squiddles Theme #1…hannel&list=UL 8-bit Squiddles Theme #2…hannel&list=UL [S] Seer: Ask Mighty Moose/David Ko Kali’s stuff. Oldest stuff is hard to discern if it’s Homestuck or not, these I am pretty sure about: (dunno if this version is any different or not, my computer’s messed up currently) !!! (original Desperado) (Desperado v2, still before the Bolin mix) (the above plus O_O) (v2) literally all of them on here SolusLunes’s music. Dunno what’s Homestuck or not besides what was on Volume 5, if anything.…n-Music-thread

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