Mighty Pen Madlibs

[Ran Yoko]

okay, my first time doing this, so bear with me if I mess up. lessee. . .(boy a lot of people have already posted)

 

1. male pennite - Patrick (cause he's the one who started this one Madlib thingie)

2. female pennite - Kikuyu Black Paws (I love your stories, more more!)

3. adjective - noisy (like family get-togethers)

4. another female pennite - Ayshela (thanks for your PM when I had just joined and was feeling a little lost!)

5. adjective - clean (something I have not felt like in a couple days. . .boy, I need a bath )

6. item of clothing - combat boots (a must for going into battle)

7. adverb - lightly (like some people [myself included] wish to weigh)

8. almost draconic product - (umm. .ah!) Almost Draconic Voting Booth, complete with curtain (don't know if Wyvern actually has this. . .but I can't think of anything!)

9. adjective - sharp (like swords and knives and other pointy things should be)

10. creature - luckdragon (like in the Never Ending Story)

11. intense - (like the intense coolness in the wind right outside)

12. body part - lung (having big lungs must run in my family, as loud as we are)

13. yet another female pennite - reverie (thanks for your help with my poems)

14. sickness - chicken-pox (had that as a kid)

15. event - trick-or-treating (candy! sour candy. . .)

16. isoceles triangle (put the first word in just to sound fancy)

17. speed - 25 MPH (about how fast I went when I was learning to drive)

18. feeling - joy (ah, such a wonderful thing!)

19. body part - feet (great thing for kicking with)

20. game - Solitaire (much easier on the computer than with real cards)

 

okay, just re-read my answers. . .I think I need some sleep. . .

[Patrick]

13. yet another female pennite - reverie (thanks for your help with my poems)

Erm...reverie happens to be male.

[Harmonious_Echos]

13. yet another female pennite - reverie (thanks for your help with my poems)

Erm...reverie happens to be male.

 

[Quincunx]

Sora Hikari: In the Almost Dragonic Voting Booth, curtain rentals are extra.

 

[this space reserved for future madlibbing]

[Patrick]

Since I won't be around this weekend, the Madlib shall be closed either Sunday night or whenever I have the time after that.

[Patrick]

Original from the BBQ thread:

 

Wyvern, who was still swooning a bit from the luck of Degorram's earlier kiss, froze and went bug-eyed as he watched the results of Kikuyu's spin. The reptilian Elder frantically dug through his belt and sack without taking his eyes off of Kikuyu and Degorram, only to curse inwardly at his lack of Almost Dragonic Brand Ultra-Disposable Cameras™ in this time of need. The overgrown lizard's eyes widened further as the two sisters leaned towards one another in a sensual manner, and his tongue hung loose as they began to move in for a kiss...

 

"EWWWWWW!" Minta's voice shrieked out in the background. "COOTIES!"

 

The various barbecue guests sitting in the circle glanced at one another for a moment with uncertain frowns. They slowly shifted and then began scrambling away from each other at a rapid pace, the fear of contractible cooties written in their eyes and unpuckered lips. The entire "Spin the Bruteweiser Bottle" circle splintered off in all directions, effectively ending the game and leaving Degorram and Kikuyu relieved of their kissing duties... and Wyvern disappointed.

Modified:

 

[male pennite], who was still swooning a bit from the luck of [another female pennite]'s earlier kiss, froze and went [adjective] as he watched the results of [female pennite]'s spin. The [adjective] [rank of aforementioned male pennite] frantically dug through his [item of clothing] and sack without taking his eyes off of [female pennite] and [another female pennite], only to curse [adverb] at his lack of Almost Dragonic Brand [almost dragonic product]™ in this time of need. The [adjective] [creature]'s eyes widened further as the two sisters leaned towards one another in a [adjective] manner, and his [body part] hung loose as they began to move in for a kiss...

 

"EWWWWWW!" [yet another female pennite]'s voice shrieked out in the background. "[sickness]!"

 

The various [event] guests sitting in the [shape] glanced at one another for a moment with uncertain frowns. They slowly shifted and then began scrambling away from each other at a [speed] pace, the [feeling] of contractible [sickness] written in their eyes and unpuckered [body part]. The entire "[game]" [shape] splintered off in all directions, effectively ending the game and leaving [another female pennite] and [female pennite] relieved of their kissing duties... and [male pennite] disappointed.

And then for the different versions

 

Tanuchan's version

 

Venefyxatu, who was still swooning a bit from the luck of Tralla's earlier kiss, froze and went stratospheric as he watched the results of Ayshela's spin. The morose Quill-Bearer frantically dug through his mites and sack without taking his eyes off of Ayshela and Tralla, only to curse clamorously at his lack of Almost Dragonic Brand LemonoAid™ in this time of need. The sneaky giant kraken's eyes widened further as the two sisters leaned towards one another in an insane manner, and his earlobe hung loose as they began to move in for a kiss...

 

"EWWWWWW!" Tzimfemme's voice shrieked out in the background. "Plague!"

 

The various NaNoWriMo guests sitting in the toroid glanced at one another for a moment with uncertain frowns. They slowly shifted and then began scrambling away from each other at a 19.99 light-years/second pace, the elation of contractible plague written in their eyes and unpuckered tongues. The entire "cricket" toroid splintered off in all directions, effectively ending the game and leaving Tralla and Ayshela relieved of their kissing duties... and Venefyxatu disappointed.

Degorram's version

 

Wyvern, who was still swooning a bit from the luck of Degorram's earlier kiss, froze and went cramped as he watched the results of Kikuyu's spin. The dark Elder frantically dug through his cloak and sack without taking his eyes off of Degorram and Kikuyu, only to curse sinisterly at his lack of Almost Dragonic Brand Vampiric Batting Ball™ in this time of need. The wild spawn's eyes widened further as the two sisters leaned towards one another in an eery manner, and his tail hung loose as they began to move in for a kiss...

 

"EWWWWWW!" troubled sleep's voice shrieked out in the background. "African sleeping sickness!"

 

The various birthday guests sitting in the ball glanced at one another for a moment with uncertain frowns. They slowly shifted and then began scrambling away from each other at a mach 1 pace, the bad feeling of contractible african sleeping sickness written in their eyes and unpuckered wings. The entire "twister" ball splintered off in all directions, effectively ending the game and leaving Degorram and Kikuyu relieved of their kissing duties... and Wyvern disappointed.

Peredhil's version

 

Orlan, who was still swooning a bit from the luck of Ayshela's earlier kiss, froze and went bold as he watched the results of Wrenwind's spin. The royal blue Fix-It Gnome frantically dug through his corset and sack without taking his eyes off of Wrenwind and Ayshela, only to curse dynamically at his lack of Almost Dragonic Hair Remover™ (only 2 Geld if you order now!) in this time of need. The bashful jabberwocky's eyes widened further as the two sisters leaned towards one another in an orange manner, and his nostrils hung loose as they began to move in for a kiss...

 

"EWWWWWW!" Beautiful Nightmare's voice shrieked out in the background. "Cooties!"

 

The various Annual Pen Fundraiser guests sitting in the round glanced at one another for a moment with uncertain frowns. They slowly shifted and then began scrambling away from each other at a pace approaching the speed of light, the gruntled feeling of contractible cooties written in their eyes and unpuckered toes. The entire "War on Terror: the boardgame" round splintered off in all directions, effectively ending the game and leaving Ayshela and Wrenwind relieved of their kissing duties... and Orlan disappointed.

Wyvern's version

 

Patham, who was still swooning a bit from the luck of Rydia's earlier kiss, froze and went overt as he watched the results of Tzimfemme's spin. The Wyvern-approved Elder frantically dug through his transparent pink nightgown and sack without taking his eyes off of Tzimfemme and Rydia, only to curse nonchalantly at his lack of Almost Dragonic Brand Dirty Vile Disc™ in this time of need. The recyclable news rat's eyes widened further as the two sisters leaned towards one another in a drop dead sexy manner, and his rear end hung loose as they began to move in for a kiss...

 

"EWWWWWW!" CheerMynx's voice shrieked out in the background. "Nymphomania!"

 

The various 68th Annual Chocolate Mud Wrestling Competition guests sitting in the heart-shape glanced at one another for a moment with uncertain frowns. They slowly shifted and then began scrambling away from each other track-and-field decathlon fast, the exhiliration of contractible nymphomania written in their eyes and unpuckered chests. The entire "Pass the Bruteweiser Bottle" heart-shape splintered off in all directions, effectively ending the game and leaving Rydia and Tzimfemme relieved of their kissing duties... and Patham disappointed.

The Death of Rats' version

 

Falcon2001, who was still swooning a bit from the luck of blondemoon's earlier kiss, froze and went unruly as he watched the results of Annael's spin. The farfetched poet frantically dug through his cravat and sack without taking his eyes off of Annael and blondemoon, only to curse adverbially at his lack of Almost Dragonic Brand Wyvern's ego™ in this time of need. The hoarse sheep's eyes widened further as the two sisters leaned towards one another in a tiny manner, and his brain hung loose as they began to move in for a kiss...

 

"EWWWWWW!" dragonqueen's voice shrieked out in the background. "Polio!"

 

The various Saint Nicholas Eve guests sitting in the rhombus glanced at one another for a moment with uncertain frowns. They slowly shifted and then began scrambling away from each other at a 35 mph pace, the consternation of contractible polio written in their eyes and unpuckered toes. The entire "Parcheesi" rhombus splintered off in all directions, effectively ending the game and leaving blondemoon and Anneal relieved of their kissing duties... and Falcon2001 disappointed.

Harmony's version

 

Cryptomancer, who was still swooning a bit from the luck of Kikuyu's earlier kiss, froze and went slim as he watched the results of Harmonious_echos's spin. The shiny Guild Leader frantically dug through his slippers and sack without taking his eyes off of Harmonious_echos and Kikuyu, only to curse gracefully at his lack of Almost Dragonic Brand Dark Creature Snake Oil™ in this time of need. The dirty Purple People Eater's eyes widened further as the two sisters leaned towards one another in a keen manner, and his wrist hung loose as they began to move in for a kiss...

 

"EWWWWWW!" Degorram's voice shrieked out in the background. "Black Plague!"

 

The various Birthday Party guests sitting in the octogon glanced at one another for a moment with uncertain frowns. They slowly shifted and then began scrambling away from each other at a 369.5 MPH pace, the joy of contractible Black Plague written in their eyes and unpuckered noses. The entire "Egyptian Rats" octogon splintered off in all directions, effectively ending the game and leaving Kikuyu and Harmonious_echos relieved of their kissing duties... and Cryptomancer disappointed.

Sora Hikari's version

 

Patrick, who was still swooning a bit from the luck of Ayshela's earlier kiss, froze and went noisy as he watched the results of Kikuyu Black Paws's spin. The clean Elder frantically dug through his combat boots and sack without taking his eyes off of Kikuyu Black Paws and Ayshela, only to curse lightly at his lack of Almost Dragonic Brand Voting Booth, complete with curtain™ in this time of need. The sharp luckdragon's eyes widened further as the two sisters leaned towards one another in an intense manner, and his lung hung loose as they began to move in for a kiss...

 

"EWWWWWW!" reverie's voice shrieked out in the background. "Chicken-pox!"

 

The various trick-or-treating guests sitting in the isoceles triangle glanced at one another for a moment with uncertain frowns. They slowly shifted and then began scrambling away from each other at a 25 MPH pace, the joy of contractible chicken-pox written in their eyes and unpuckered feet. The entire "Solitaire" isoceles triangle splintered off in all directions, effectively ending the game and leaving Ayshela and Kikuyu Black Paws relieved of their kissing duties... and Patrick disappointed.

 

 

That's all folks.

I was almost laughing out loud while completing these.

Minor adaptations were made where needed.

[Wyvern]

Wyvern dashes into the Cabaret Room with a triumphant hiss, only to slip over a stray love letter from Ozymandias' recent Cabaret contribution and slide face first across the floor until his spread wings manage to slow him by digging their way into the carpet fibers. Present pennites stare down at the fallen Almost Dragon, only to find a booze-stained writing exercise clutched in one of his claws...

 

A new madlib for folks to riff off of. If nothing else, it'll give us some idea of who's still present around these parts. Instructions on how to play on the first page of this thread, in case anyone hasn't done one before.

 

1. Name of Pennite

2. Plural Noun

3. Adjective

4. A Shape

5. Noun

6. Noun

7. Adverb

8. A Profession

9. A Material

10. Noun

11. Verb, Past Tense

12. Dining Utensil, Plural

13. Nonsense Word

14. A Color

15. Adjective

16. A Plant

17. Part of Body

18. An Exotic Food

19. Name of a Group

20. Name of Another Pennite

21. Article of Clothing

[Tanuchan]

Yay! Thanks for the fun, Wyv!!

 

 

1. Name of Pennite - Venefyxatu

2. Plural Noun - cans

3. Adjective - ornate

4. A Shape - catenary

5. Noun - canary

6. Noun - tiger

7. Adverb - simply

8. A Profession - killer

9. A Material - glass

10. Noun - cemetery

11. Verb, Past Tense - wrote

12. Dining Utensil, Plural - forks

13. Nonsense Word - grelanphrat

14. A Color - mauve

15. Adjective - blind

16. A Plant - venus flytrap

17. Part of Body - wrist

18. An Exotic Food - bird's nest

19. Name of a Group - Greenpeace

20. Name of Another Pennite - Patrick

21. Article of Clothing - mini-skirt

[Signe]

1. Name of Pennite - Lord Panther

2. Plural Noun - boardgames

3. Adjective - spicy

4. A Shape - round

5. Noun - cat

6. Noun - closet

7. Adverb - oozingly

8. A Profession - astrologist

9. A Material - obsidian

10. Noun - candy

11. Verb, Past Tense - flirted

12. Dining Utensil, Plural - chopsticks

13. Nonsense Word - gurgleschmurtz

14. A Color - violet

15. Adjective - shapely

16. A Plant - venus flytrap

17. Part of Body - left earlobe

18. An Exotic Food - prairie oysters

19. Name of a Group - anti-Olympic protesters

20. Name of Another Pennite - Wrenwind

21. Article of Clothing - bloomers

[Wyvern]

Wyvern grumbles and slowly lifts himself to his feet, using his tail stinger for balance as he blinks away the dizziness and shakes the stray pieces of torn carpet fiber from his wings. The overgrown lizard clears the ash from his throat, then lifts the writing exercise in one claw and waves it in the air, glancing about at the idle pennites observing. He reaches over to Ozymandias who is about to announce some important piece of Pen news and snatches his Egyptian hieroglyph megaphone, raising it to his reptilian snout and shouting not two feet away from other pennites:

 

"NEW MIGHTY PEN MADLIB, SURELY WE HAVE MORE PARTICIPANTSSS?! MERE MINUTESSSSS TO COMPLETE, NO GELD REQUIRED UNTIL AFTER COMPLETION!"

 

Wyvern nods with a toothy sneer, then coughs only to raise a piercing shriek of feedback from the megaphone. The reptilian Elder winces in time with the rest of the Cabaret Room, and begins fumbling over the ancient hieroglyphic symbols marked on the buttons of the megaphone.

 

"AHERM! ERRRR, HOW DO I TURN THIS THING OFF?!"

[Patrick]

1. Name of Pennite - Wyvern

2. Plural Noun - toads

3. Adjective - bulbous

4. A Shape - double-helix

5. Noun - feather

6. Noun - book

7. Adverb - coldly

8. A Profession - telemarketer

9. A Material - broiled-leather

10. Noun - order

11. Verb, Past Tense - hustled

12. Dining Utensil, Plural - spoons

13. Nonsense Word - globlaghart

14. A Color - blood-red

15. Adjective - porous

16. A Plant - Wyvernous Devourus Grandus

17. Part of Body - tongue

18. An Exotic Food - Wyvern feet

19. Name of a Group - The Bards

20. Name of Another Pennite - Peredhil

21. Article of Clothing - socks

[Wyvern]

"Thank, errr..."

 

Wyvern sets the hieroglyphic megaphone down on the Cabaret floor so that it faces up like a true Egyptian pyramid, hovering over it for a moment as he braces himself for more painful feedback. The overgrown lizard breathes a sigh of relief when the megaphone goes perfectly quiet after a slight echo threatening sound.

 

"*ahem* Thanksss to Tanuchan, Signe and Patrick for participating in thisss Mighty Pen Madlib. The resultssss are hereby officially in."

 

The segment used was taken from a Disco-Neck Ted post in the Conservatory's "When the Akashans Come a Knockin" thread.

 

Gregor focused on the tray of delicacies before him, rows of tidbits arranged in a perfect, soothing grid. The smell of the candy glaze was warm against his skin. If he took one tonsil from each corner, he mused, the array would still be orderly. It was not as if guests would be after them, not now. Shifting his grip, the food-taster produced a silver case. The clasp pinged like the twinkle of the evening's first star and he hesitated over the array of toothpicks contained within. The baobab, he decided, thumbing out a dark sliver. Definitely the baobab. The exotic wood would be the perfect complement to both the sweet, tingling glaze and the musky, silken taste of flytrap flesh.

 

Shards of broken glassware tinkled to the floor like sprinkles of cinnamon on Gregor's tongue, and an angel-wing shifted from beneath the rack of gorgon ribs.

 

Gregor paused, savoring the moment even more than the thought of the treats in front of him. "The Akashans have Kurt," the food-taster repeated. He looked down at the adamantium-clad figure that was once again lying motionless under a mound of meat and shook his head. "They just don't know that they have him."

 

Tinkered with, the modified post read:

 

[Name of Pennite] focused on the tray of [Plural Noun] before him, rows of tidbits arranged in a perfect, [Adjective] [shape]. The smell of the [Noun] glaze was warm against his skin. If he took one [Noun] from each corner, he mused, the array would still be [Adverb]. It was not as if guests would be after them, not now. Shifting his grip, the [A Profession] produced a [A Material] case. The clasp pinged like the twinkle of the evening's first [Noun] and he [Verb, Past Tense] over the array of [Dining Utensil, Plural] contained within. The [Nonsense Word], he decided, thumbing out a dark . Definitely the [same Nonsense Word]. The [Adjective] wood would be the perfect complement to both the sweet, tingling glaze and the musky, silken taste of [A Plant] flesh.

 

Shards of broken glassware tinkled to the floor like sprinkles of cinnamon on [same Pennite]'s tongue, and an [Part of Body] shifted from beneath the rack of [An Exotic Food].

 

[same Pennite] paused, savoring the moment even more than the thought of the treats in front of him. "[Name of a Group] have [Name of Another Pennite]," the [same Profession] repeated. He looked down at the [Article of Clothing]-clad figure that was once again lying motionless under a mound of [same Exotic Food] and shook his head. "They just don't know that they have him."

 

Finally, with the different words applied, the following versions were created:

 

 

Tanuchan's Version:

 

Venefyxatu focused on the tray of cans before him, rows of tidbits arranged in a perfect, ornate catenary. The smell of the canary glaze was warm against his skin. If he took one tiger from each corner, he mused, the array would still be simply. It was not as if guests would be after them, not now. Shifting his grip, the killer produced a glass case. The clasp pinged like the twinkle of the evening's first cemetary and he wrote over the array of forks contained within. The grelanphrat, he decided, thumbing out a dark mauve. Definitely the grelanphrat. The blind wood would be the perfect complement to both the sweet, tingling glaze and the musky, silken taste of venus flytrap flesh.

 

Shards of broken glassware tinkled to the floor like sprinkles of cinnamon on Venefyxatu's tongue, and a wrist shifted from beneath the rack of bird’s nest.

 

Venefyxatu paused, savoring the moment even more than the thought of the treats in front of him. "Greenpeace have Patrick," the killer repeated. He looked down at the mini-skirt-clad figure that was once again lying motionless under a mound of bird’s nest and shook his head. "They just don't know that they have him."

 

 

Signe's Version:

 

Lord Panther focused on the tray of boardgames before him, rows of tidbits arranged in a perfect, spicy round circle. The smell of the cat glaze was warm against his skin. If he took one closet from each corner, he mused, the array would still be oozingly. It was not as if guests would be after them, not now. Shifting his grip, the astrologist produced an obsidian case. The clasp pinged like the twinkle of the evening's first candy and he flirted over the array of chopsticks contained within. The gurgleschmurtz, he decided, thumbing out a dark violet. Definitely the gurgleschmurtz. The shapely wood would be the perfect complement to both the sweet, tingling glaze and the musky, silken taste of venus flytrap flesh.

 

Shards of broken glassware tinkled to the floor like sprinkles of cinnamon on Lord Panther's tongue, and a left earlobe shifted from beneath the rack of prairie oysters.

 

Lord Panther paused, savoring the moment even more than the thought of the treats in front of him. "The Anti-Olympic Protestors have Wrenwind," the astrologist repeated. He looked down at the bloomer-clad figure that was once again lying motionless under a mound of prairie oysters and shook his head. "They just don't know that they have him."

 

 

Patrick's Version:

 

Wyvern focused on the tray of toads before him, rows of tidbits arranged in a perfect, bulbous double-helix. The smell of the feather glaze was warm against his skin. If he took one book from each corner, he mused, the array would still be coldly. It was not as if guests would be after them, not now. Shifting his grip, the telemarketer produced a broiled-leather. The clasp pinged like the twinkle of the evening's first order and he hustled over the array of spoons contained within. The globlaghart, he decided, thumbing out a dark blood-red. Definitely the globlaghart. The porous wood would be the perfect complement to both the sweet, tingling glaze and the musky, silken taste of Wyvernus Devourous Grandus flesh.

 

Shards of broken glassware tinkled to the floor like sprinkles of cinnamon on Wyvern's tongue, and a tongue shifted from beneath the rack of Wyvern feet.

 

Wyvern paused, savoring the moment even more than the thought of the treats in front of him. "The Bards have Peredhil," the telemarketer repeated. He looked down at the sock-clad figure that was once again lying motionless under a mound of Wyvern feet and shook his head. "They just don't know that they have him."