Brute

While wandering through the halls with his beloved Decanter and singing terribly off-key drinking songs, Brute detects a faint aroma. "Whuzzzat? Shsmellss kinda like...rum!" He turns abruptly and bounces off a wall, then steadies himself. With his nose held high, he draws in the scent deeply. "Hmmm, sshmells like rum, yup. Also shsmells like rad.. um, radi..radishshes! Ooh! someone's making a rum an radi..rum an rash.. rum an rashid..my favorite cake!" Brute smiles as he breathes deeply, trying to capture the scent that lingers heavily in the air. Something in the back of his mind tingles a bit, as if he has forgotten something. "Oh no," he utters, suddenly remembering his earlier plans for Zool's birthday. With a staggering lurch, he launches himself down the hallway to the kitchens. Dark smokes slowly leaks from the corners of the oven door as Brute rushes to it. Throwing open the oven, he staggers back from the cloud of smoke that billows out. Brute waves his arms violently in attempt to clear the smoke. Brute spies a pair of oven mitts and uses them to remove the large chicken-shaped cake pan and sets the blackened cake atop the oven. "It's perfect," he mutters to himself. "He's gonna love thish delishush cake I made. Now jush gotta put a lil' frosting on ta hide the burn marksh." Stumbling about, Brute takes a long draw from the Decanter, then pulls from the cabinet a small tub of specially made frosting labeled 'chromazool frosting- yellow'. Soon, the cake is hideously decorated with an odd, yellowish frosting that makes the cake resemble a half-plucked chicken. "Iss perfet..perfect," Brute slurs, then takes another huge gulp of booze. With a loud burp, balances the cake precariously in one hand and staggers out of the kitchen, seeking Zool.

Brute crept into the kitchen, careful to not make a sound as he moved from cupboard to cupboard, collecting bowls, spoon, and various other cooking utensils. When he was satisfied he had everything needed, he removed a thick piece of parchment from a pocket and flattened it on the counter. As he read the what was written, his hands absently fished out a large flask from another pocket. Slurping the contents of the flask, he moved around the kitchen gathering flour, sugar, eggs, a few spices, several bottles of rum, and a basket of radishes. Placing all the ingredients on the counter near the bowls and cooking implements, he once more looked at the parchment while taking another sip from the flask. "Heh, heh.. Zool's gonna love the Rum and Radish cake I make for him." Brute began to mix the ingredients, carefully following the recipe's instructions. As soon as he finished chopping the radishes and dumping them into the huge mixing bowl, he emptied the rum bottles into the bowl and gave it a final stir. Satisfied that the cake mix was ready, he fired up the oven with a quick incantation, then poured the batter into a very large chicken-shaped cake pan. Wiping flour from his face, Brute grinned and pushed the pan into the oven. "Time for a little snack," he told himself, and wandered off to his room to fetch the Decanter.

I've been digging around trying to catch up what I've missed out on in the past several years of my absence. I somehow came across this RP guide I wrote long ago. It made me laugh while reading it, so I've got the link here in hopes it'll give someone else a chuckle. http://www.patrickdurham.net/themightypen/index.php?showtopic=9011&st=0

color by numbers

professional hitman for hire.

heh.. that train of thought led me to thinking of the length of treant's arms, which in turn, led to a bout of uncontrolled giggles. Good times!!

wow! that's amazing! I think that if one was to truly understand that, that person should get an honorary diploma from DoctorEvil's College of Archvillans, five geld freely given from Wyvern, and a smack from Racouol's frying pans. I loved it!!!!

Dear Pen Diary, Last week, I discovered a little known fact. Gas grills have a slightly evil aura about them. I suspect this is in direct relation to the intelligence of the user, but I don't care to fully test that until I find a worthy test subject. (Other than myself.) I mention the intelligence to evil ratio because on the day of my discovery, I was feeling particularly stupid. It seems that when the gas grills have the opportunity to enact evil schemes they've planned, it always involves their fire-based attack. The strength of this attack also seems to be directly proportionate to the intelligence of the individual using the grill. Allow me to explain by using my incident as an example. As I noted before, I was feeling rather dumb; not to the point of drool gathering upon my chin, but basic physics had become incomprehensible. The grill sensed my lack of wit and committed to it's plan. It allowed both burners to go out, then filled the area beneath the foil-covered rack and the burners with propane. Using it's evil mind influencing powers(see.. works best on slack-wits), it convinced me to squat down and peek under the rack and look for flames. Having found none, of course, the grill convinced me to push the bright red button labeled IGNITE. On the second attempt, it lit. I swear I heard an evil chuckle as I furiously slapped my face to extinguish the flames. Fortunately, reflexes are NOT disable when intelligence is. Unfortunately, reflexes didn't save my eyelashes, eyebrows, or the fuzzy appendage attached to my chin. Those are all gone now, but hopefully will soon grow back. I have learned my lesson and avoid the evil inherent in gas grills unless I can verify my intelligence is adequate for the task before even the first burger is placed on the grill. Otherwise, it's a sandwich for the dummy.

Coca-Cola! (From the old commercials, I suppose. doesn't make any sense to me, but that's what came to mind)

Finds a small and obscure button hidden in the corner and presses it curiously. Dark glasses instantly appear over his eyes. "Ahhh...! That's better! It was truly a little uncomfortable with the bright colors and all. I find the dark and gloom much more to my liking." The broom closet he appears to be talking to refuses to give an answer.

A door opens, allowing Brute entrance into the room. As he brushes cobwebs from his shoulders, a strong odor of alcohol permeates the air around him. "Hullo. Kinda bright an' colorful around here. I suppose it's better than 'bright an' shiny'. We all know what effect SHINY has on most of the residents..."

From within his dark, tattered robes, the old mage produces a familiar flask and pours forth from it a dark liquid, filling the three mugs. Brute then sits in one of the three chairs and grins broadly at Synpiuer and Zool. It's so good to see you, my friends! I've missed all of the colorful inhabitants of this place! It's been so long since I've been here. Where's Ozy, and Gyrfalcon? Is Yui-chan still here? Wyvern! Where's that old rascal at? I believe he still owes me money. It's SOOO good to see you again!!! (OOC. I deeply apologize for my length of absence. I've missed you all and it's so good to be back!! you see, there was this girl, and then life kinda took hold. Well, there's this other girl now.. and she's kind of the reason I came back. anyway, here I am.)

A door in a nearby corner opens suddenly, allowing a pale, bald head to emerge from beyond. Brute quickly scans the room, and upon seeing Snypiuer and Zool talking of obscure afro references, a broad smile creases his drawn face and settles in his eyes. With a quick step into the room, he waves to the two, surprise etched upon their features. "Hullo, Snypiuer! Hullo, Zool! how've ya been?"

Hullo! It seems I've missed the deadline. Again.

Eh.. coupla good books I've read recently... George R.R. Martin's Game of Thrones series. The books so far have been IMHO better than WoT series. Lots of political maneuvering and Martin seems to have a knack for creating likable and believable characters only to kill 'em off unexpectedly. Another book I'm currently reading is the Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett. It's an interesting read about craftsmen, Benedictine monks, and minor nobles in twelveth century England. If I ad more time to rea, I'd have finished it by now. Anyway.. just a few more books to consider for those of you with nothing better to do