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Thirty-Five Seconds 46-47: The sword finds its mark. Genericus is defeated. Enriquathan: Well, I guess that takes care of that. Observer: Sure does. Enriquathan: Now what? Observer: I guess it’s up to you, really—I’m just an observer. Enriquathan: Aw, but I hate making choices. Don’t make me choose! Observer: Look pal, it’s in my frickin’ character description that all I do is observe. What do you want ME to do about it? Enriquathan: Moo. Observer: What the hell kind of answer is that
anyway, "moo?" You say it all the damn time, and it doesn’t
make any damn SENSE. What GIVES. Enriquathan: Moo. Observer: Ughhh. Enriquathan: So what are we doing, anyway? Observer: Shut the hell up. Enriquathan: Can you at least tell me where we are? I’ve lost track over the last several months. Observer: Well, from what I’ve observed...actually, I don’t have a damn clue. Some beach? Does this look like a beach? We’re always on some damned beach. Enriquathan: Sure are! Though the sand is oddly black...say...you don’t think... Observer: No. There is no way we’re on the Black Isle, first mentioned in the story like 500 years ago. It’s not possible. Enriquathan: The sand’s black, dude. Observer: OK, FINE. Well, now that’s settled. Enriquathan: Yup, sure is. Observer: Now what? Enriquathan: Dunno, you tell me. Observer: .... Enriquathan: .... Observer: ...is anyone else still alive? Enriquathan: Well, it has just been us two talking for an awful long time. Observer: No kidding. But, EVERYONE can’t be dead, can they? Enriquathan: Well...let’s see... I think the
utensil people are still around, and Large Stone Wall and Strange n00b: Hi guys. Observer: Hey. Enriquathan: Hey. n00b: ‘Sup? Enriquathan: Not much. Trying to figure out what the hell’s going on. So far we’ve figured out where we are and who’s still alive, but we haven’t yet figured out what to do. Any ideas? n00b: I’m not really an idea man. Enriquathan: Shucks. Observer: Hey, I’ve got an idea. n00b: Oh yeah?! Observer: HAH, you n00b! I’m OBSERVER. I don’t do IDEAS. I OBSERVE. Man, what a tool. Spoonlad: Oh, my sexy champion Enriquathan! Did somebody call me? Was it you, oh gracious one? Enriquathan: Nah d00d. And spoons aren’t tools. They’re utensils. Spoonlad: Oh the sexy Enriquathan, always so witty! So cunning! So brave! Forklass: Give it a rest, will you? I swear, he’s always like this...always going on about Enriquathan. Never paying any attention to me. Enriquathan: Ew. d00d. Gross. Spoonlad: Well now you sexy beast you, what’s going on? Enriquathan: UGH! Why does everyone keep asking ME that?! Observer: You’re pretty much the leader, now.
Forklass: Totally. Enriquathan: I see. Spoonlad: So? Enriquathan: Dunno. Spoonlad: Ah. Forklass: Idea! What if we get off this island? Enriquathan: That never works out too well. Observer: It’s true—we always end up on another damned island. IT NEVER ENDS. Forklass: What if we aimed for somewhere else? Somewhere that completely is not an island? Enriquathan: How would we do that? Forklass: Well... Which Gate Do You Choose? The Gates of Space Forklass: We could steal that rockship and see where it takes is! I bet there aren’t any islands in space. The Gates of Vine Forklass: Hey, let’s climb that vine! It goes up really high! It’s GOTTA go somewhere cool. The Gates of Sand Forklass: Heck if I know! I’d rather just sit here and play in the sand. Observer: Oh boy! I love sand! The Gates of Holes Forklass: Let’s dig! Let’s just dig and dig and dig in the sand until we’re somewhere else! Observer: Oh boy! I love sand! The Gates of EH?? Forklass: Island’s aren’t really THAT bad, you know....
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Past Editions of The Gates of Life: Chapter
34: ROCKIN BALLAD! |
Creature are still on that island we left them on. n00b...is definitely
dead, but he’s a vampire, so shouldn’t that help things? Undead, and
all that.
n00b: Yeah.