[QUOTE=joshuadim;52078200]Ted turns to the ice cream man, "Well thank you kindly sir, I'll take an iced-tea flavor if you got any."
He then pulls out a roll of paper from his pocket, revealing it to be a copy of the Constitution of the United States.
"Please take this as a gesture of friendship between the two of us good American citizen."[/QUOTE]
Mr. Marmalade smiles at the kindly politician, "Why sir we do have iced-tea flavor, in fact I've just concocted a Sweet-tea flavor if you're interested."
The Ice Cream man takes the paper and puts it into his pocket. "From a fellow Republican, thank you sir for your kindness." He says the American Flag in his store waving in the background
Luigi looks back from the fecal splattered vehicle to notice that another man has appeared before the ice cream shop. He wonders what region of the Mushroom Kingdom he's from considering his funny accent. Noticing that he has been beckoned inside the ice cream shop, Luigi remembers why he came here in the first place.
"Hey-a do you guys have any spaghetti sauce or mozzarella flavored ice cream?" he asks.
Roland Deschain of Gilead was walking by himself, all alone through a desert. The sun was burning his skin, making it hard and cracking it like leather. His blue eyes fixated on a small stripe in the distance. If his gut feeling was correct, which it usually was, the stripe was the door that would bring him closer to his goal. The Dark Tower. The one thing he had given up so much for. He sped up his pace. Determent to get to the door before the sun completely fell. His feet hurt from all the miles of walking, it must've been thousands of miles. For his journey was almost as old as time.
When he was only a few hundred feet away from the door, he started to run. The sun had almost completly fell, and soon the dark cold would come again. With nothing to make a fire with, he would freeze to death.
As he ran his revolvers bounced against his hips. As he came closer to the door, he could see something in golden letters, written above it. When he was a mere few feet away, he could see the letters said 'Midnight.' In the olden language. He placed his hand on the doorknob, took a deep breath, and turned it.
As the door opened, Roland Deschian got sucked into whatever world was beyond the door...
He fell onto a sidewalk, his knees scraping against the stone. He stood up, the first thing he noticed was that his revolvers were gone. Lost in the space between worlds. The smell of feces hit his nose, and he was suprised to see a man throwing a bag of poop unto a car.
'What a strange world,' Roland said to himself.
Big Seal: Swole Team 6 had been enjoying his time off of work. It had let him focus on the important things in life. Having suffered through the previous day with his wife Amanda, who had during his last tour away somehow managed to inflate herself past the 300lbs mark, he could now justify spending some time on himself...
Tearing his mind away from the PTSD he'd contracted interacting with the walking blob the previous day he raised the binoculars to his eyes and watched the ice-cream place tentatively. He was sure that this fuck was up to something... what with his scoops, interestingly flavoured dessert products and colorful fast-food uniform.
'Anyone or anything who willingly keeps close to something that sounds similar to desert is a terrorist in my book' he muttered grimly to himself.
'fucken' sand people...'
'fucken' Ahmed...'
'This is fucken' America'
'fucken' ISIS'.
It was good there was no one else around. A semi-naked man wearing camouflage paint, swearing to himself and looking through binoculars while sitting on a tree branch could look somewhat strange to a civvie unversed in such advanced military tactics.
Morgan decides to take another break, after his boss telling him that he is fired still.
So Morgan decides to go to the Icecream Shop to buy some Icecream for him and his boss.
As he walks over he notices that there seems to be quite a few people, but considering he knows the icecream is alright, he decides to wait anyway.
...
After a few minutes later, he realized that they were all talking about the Poo Car, and in fact, not waiting in line.
"Uhm...why is everyone talking about the Poop Car? I thought this was an Icecream shop." Morgan asked.
Despite the poopy shit happening at the ice cream parlor among other crazy ass shenanigans, something far more... [I]romantic [/I]took place at an Italian diner just down the street.
Soft, traditional music filled the air. Small candles on the tables illuminated the wooden walls and furnishings. The serenity of it all made it perfect for these two longtime lovers seated opposite of eachother. Everything was just right. This was the moment he was going to propose to the love of his life! Staring deeply into eachother's eyes, they both started leaning in for a kiss. It feels like it's taking an eternity for the two's lips to finally connect.
And they did.
And when they did, the man started to get all sloppy with it as chunks and bits of the spaghetti he was eating started to rise. Not a second later and he was blowing chunks all over the place, puking his guts out! He puked spaghetti [I]ALL OVER HIS GIRLFRIEND![/I]
The woman started screaming for the waiter to bring the chef, as the chef himself poked his head out of the kitchen to see what was going on.
"What is-a the problem?" the chef asked.
"God, what the fuck did you put in my boyfriend's spaghetti?!" the woman cried out.
"I use-a Mama's secretta sauce! I use-a the motor oil instead of the olive oil!"
"[I]What the fuck?![/I] Who the fuck puts that shit in spaghetti!?"
"Is-a family recipe! Come to kitchen! I show you how to make best spaghetti in world!"
"Get away you freak!" she screamed as she grabbed her still vomiting boyfriend and ran out the doors.
"Ah, mama mia! That was-a the third one this week!" grumbled the chef as he sulked back into the kitchen.
After buying his pad of butter and eating it post-haste the instant he stepped out of the door, he could hear the screaming from the nearby Italian diner. Delighted, he wondered if it would be possible to sell his new book.
Unfortunately, when he came in, he was nearly knocked over by a pair of screaming, vomiting teens.
"Good god!" he muttered, moving into the vomit-infused building "It smells like the serve butter in [I]droves[/I] here! I must make my way to the kitchen to find out if they do..."
[media]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U-xsosv6uM0[/media]
"[I]BENVENUTO TO THE CASA ITALIANIA!!! HOW-A MAY I SERVE YOU TODAY?![/I]" exploded a voice next to Ell.
Chef Gio wanted to make sure his customer felt very warm and welcome in his restaurant.
"Ahh yes, my olive inclined friend" Ell began, his voice oily and smooth, "I would like a serving of your finest spaghetti with a large side serving of butter. I would like the butter melted and then poured into my water glass to make it easier to drink."
Gesturing towards the kitchen, Ell continued. "I would like to see your crew and how your food is prepared, and also see how your stocks of" Ell paused, licking his lips
[I]"[B]buttery goodness[/B][/I] is kept"
"Sicuramente, mi friend! Just have a seat at any table and I will prepare the [I]MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM-[/I]" Chef Gio makes the ok hand gesture. "[I]-MMMMMMMMMMMIGLIORE [/I]mama spaghetti and [B]wutter [/B]you will ever taste!"
Now the Chef wobbles back into the kitchen and begins preparing the spaghetti and butter-watter for Ell.
No fucking motor oil this time because that made the last people sick, ok? Let's get it right this time, Chef.
Ell takes a seat and prepares his favorite lobster bib onto his chest, rubbing his hands together, ready for the chef's wutter.
Chef Gio came out with exactly what Ell ordered and how he wanted it. Buttered spaghetti with heaves of butter and butter on the side, as well as melted butter in a wine glass with water in it.
"Buon appetito, signore!" he said.
Scarfing down the buttery goodness, Ell was quickly satisfied. Getting up, he left a copy of his book "Diagnostics".
"Clearly this is worth the entirety of this delicious dinner...a look into your body and mind? Hmm?
He then bowed, put on his jacket, and left
Noticing the amount of people arriving at the ice cream van, Ted turned to them and asked: "Would any of you be interested about the Constitution of the United States?"
Noticing the Crowd coming into his store Mr. Marmalade decides to make an announcement. "Come one, come all, any flavor you could ever imagine is available now and forever at the famous Rainbow Scoops!"
"I may but only on one condition...are they butter flavor?"
"I think those fucken' dessertists are trying to organise a consitution burnin'..."
Luigi, with an ice cream cone in each hand, turns to Ted and says, "Ey I don't know about many states besides Brooklyn, but I'll take one of your fancy napkins!"
Mario had told Luigi many times before that Brooklyn was, in fact, not a state. However the idea never quite stuck with Luigi, who still thought Little Italy was where the first italian was born.
"Any flavor you say? Hmmmm" Morgan thought to himself.
"I wonder what to get, Rainbow Paddle Pop, Chocolate Paddle Pop, Banana Paddle Pop, Kangaro--" He said to himself, he then stopped after coming up with a flavor.
"I would love to have a Kangaroo flavor Icecream my good Matey" Morgan said out loud.
Chef Gio took an interest in the book Ell had left behind. After a quick read of the book, he learned something new that day.
...
Books are just as good as coal when using a fire oven to make pizzas.
Seeing everyone eating either Italian food with motor oil, or icecream, Roland decided to take the best of this world. The orded icecream with Italian food flavour, and decided to join the rest of the group.
[IMG]http://i.imgur.com/wHyJ9p3.jpg[/IMG]
"Those good goys will never know what hit them."
That's what Igor said to himself, as he stubbed his twentieth cigar out on his perfectly sculpted nose. A bogdanbot crawled out of his nose, like that scene in Indiana Jones where a fly crawls into that french dude's mouth. It stubbed out the cigarette for him, stubbing it out on a nearby puddle. Out of the puddle, a million bogdanbots crawled out of it, like that scene in the Vicar of Dibley where Dawn French jumps into a giant puddle without realizing how deep it was. The bogdanbots stubbed the cigar out on a nearby Constitution of the United States, being held up by a failed presidential candidate and the Zodiac Killer. He then stubbed it out on his face again.
"I'll take a rainbow scoop. Shaken, not stirred."
Suddenly, Igor materialized next to an ice cream truck, 2 meters away from where he originally was. He stubbed out his cigar on Mr. Marmalade's eye, and turned to the rest of the plebs gathering nearby. He whispered the magic words to them, letting them bask in the glory of Igor's sage advice.
"Traps [I]aren't[/I] gay."
He stubbed his cigar out on his nose again.
As the characters finished their ice creams, the evening slowly turned into night, with most heading home to rest. The shit-covered car had gone to the car wash and gotten the poop off of it, the police caught the run-away drugged up teen, and the couple arrived to the hospital to deal with the boyfriend's hydrocarbon poisoning. Though some expected a peaceful night, it wouldn't be so.
Wenceslas Bogdanov had been exploring the town since he "shut it down" for Dimitri, his half-brother, using his bogdanbots to see where the closest television station was. If he could convince the local station to play his father and uncle's television show with subs, they would be able to spread the truth even faster. He savored the thought, shedding a tear of concentrated Botulinum, before remembering his cousin, Aljfred Grigorievich Bogdanov, just as his half-brother did as well. He stood at the pedestrian crossing, waiting for the light to go green.
However, just as he finished thinking about Aljfred, he was pushed into traffic head first by an unknown fiend! The ludicrous amount of implants he had received a year or so earlier in tribute of his father and uncle cause him to be top heavy, and he is run over by a car! The impact of the car would release the Botulinum within him, which would finish the job. By morning, the police had taped up the area and covered the body.
[B]Wenceslas "Overused Meme 2" "Not Grichka" Bogdanov was not the murderer.[/B]
Big Seal: Swole Team 6 was struggling to read the newspaper that morning over the ambulocetus' cries from the bedroom. It was asking for sustenance, yet Big Seal: Swole Team 6 was well versed in masking his breathing and tiptoeing stealthily around.
There was no way he was encountering the beast near a bed anytime soon.
Instead he read the newspaper as best he could. One particular story on page 6 (past the adverts for cereals and such- America was so grand) interested him the most. It was talking about how some guy fluent in French with a weird, Russian-sounding name had been knocked over by a car late the previous day.
'Fucken' commie gettin' what's good for 'im' seal murmured to himself with a hefty degree of satisfaction.
'I fucken' heard that! Where's my fucken' breakfast?!' came the shout from the wildebeast in the other room.
But Big Seal: Swole team 6 had long since crept out of the kitchen to go and get some smokes. On the way he intended to drop by the murder scene and see if the dessertists were involved...
While Morgan was opening up Shop he realized that he never got his Icecream for his boss...
"Wanker should get his own Icecream..." He mumbled to himself with a chuckle.
"Nah I'm just pulling ya leg I'll get him something better." He said with a Smile
He went inside and saw on the News that something....or rather someone, was hit by a car.
Morgan watched the news and he saw a familiar face...
"Crikey, is that Wenceslas Bogdanov?" Morgan asked himself with a Concerned tone.
After watching the News some more, he found out it was and that there may or may not have been a murder at the scene.
"A murder.....in this town?.....Nice, reminds me of my good ol' times back in Straya..tho it's probably not such a good thing if people are killing the town members here, considering my Boss will run out of Customer and then Fire me again." Morgan said to himself.
The News ended and Morgan headed back outside, to take a breather.
"Damn, hopefully they don't come after the witnesses..." He said with a concerned face.
"No wait...I don't think they said anything about witnesses...should be fine then." He said with a sigh of relief.
(can't type much rn)
[media]http://vocaroo.com/i/s1QQzkR2bfgz[/media]
[QUOTE=Zillamaster55;52091923]Ell Ar Aych moves away from the commotion at the ice cream stand, and reaches into his pocket to have some spare goodies.
"Ough, butter," he mumbles under his breath, "the sweet nectar of life itself! Almost as nectary as what lies in my loins... which is also buttery, is it not?"[/QUOTE]
[My attempt at a transcription of the audio above for those unable to listen to it - that moan is nigh impossible to put to writing.]
Chef Gio heard the news of last night's murder over the radio as he prepared his pizzas. Now who would kill one of the Bogdanoff brothers? Who would dare kill one of Europe's saviors? One of Europe's [I]gods?[/I] And most importantly, why was there no uproar about this?
Well, the world hasn't ended just yet. Perhaps when the other Bogdanoff twin kicks it, it will.
Either way, the pizzas were done. It's time to hop on your piaggio and deliver them, Chef.
[media]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=czTksCF6X8Y[/media]
Despite the murder last night, it was a good day to eat pizza. And lots of it, apparently. Six million pizzas were ordered and Gio made, and all of them had to be delivered. Each pizza was carefully stacked onto one another, forming a pizza tower so high that it started leaning a bit.
And that's how Chef Gio invented the leaning tower of pizza.
And while driving around the city, delivering his HOT [I]HOT [B]HOT [/B][/I]and fresh pizzas, he happened to drive past the murder scene. It looks like someone took a dump in the chalk outline.
Ted woke up to a nice cool glass of Texas style iced tea, and turned on the TV, only to see that one of the Bogdanovs, a globalist, was murdered last night.
Ted chuckled to himself, one less enemy to the United States rid of. He then whips out a copy of the US Constitution from his pants and fervently recites it, devoting his soul to US Capitalism and freedom.
Mr. Marmalade awoke with an ice cream headache inside of his store where many customers had come to try some of his frozen goods the day prior. However as he turned on the television to watch Bob Ross, he found that the news was on and on it a dead Bogdanov, just like the one who had visited yesterday.
"Jeepers, I hope they catch the guy who did that nasty thing". He Said before turning to clean up the mess in his shop.
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