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Outtakes - ScoutVeemon and Mortem play Superman 64SCENE 1
Guilneer: Okay, Rolling. Take 1. Action.
Pyromander is running around in the background
ScoutVeemon: Well I do believe I've forgotten why I'm standing- Dammit Pyromander, get out of the scene.
ScoutVeemon: I'm sorry what was the line?
Necro Mortem: Cut. the line is "Well I do believe I've-"
ScoutVeemon: Well I do beleive I've forgotten why- *muffled ringing* Wait, who's phone is that?
Pyromander: Not mine.
ScoutVeemon: CUT. Wait, It's my phone. (on phone) Footix, I'll call you back later.
ScoutVeemon: Mortem? Apperently Sonic 06 came back, and Superman 69-
Necro Mortem giggles softly.
ScoutVeemon: Oh jeez, Cut. Can we do that again?
ScoutVeemon: Mortem? Apperently Sonic 06 came back, and Superman 64... crashed... down like a... meteor?
Necro Mortem: Cut. Are you okay?
ScoutVeemon: Let's try that again. Apperently the script writers couldn't think of anything else better.
ScoutVeemon: Mortem? Apperently Sonic 06 came back, and S
PYROMANDER - Let's Get this Terrible Party StartedOh shit! Congrats your ass just got invited
To the party of your life are you motherfucking excited?
It's a Pyromander party so you know it's the shit
I hope you like fun cause were havin it
LET'S GET THIS FUCKIN PARTY STARTED!!!!
OH GOD! It's all going down!
FUCK YEAH! Your life was bullshit until right now!
WOO-HOO! Go ahead and let your pants hit the floor!
Your destiny awaits behind that door! HERE WE GO!
Pyromander: Hey guys.
Party members: Hey.
Pyromander: You guys playing Dungeons and Dragons?
ALL RIGHT! This party's off to a bit of a slow start
But soon it's gonna melt your brain and bitchslap your heart!
Check out this leaf-collecting album that I made back in Autumn
Don't get me started on balloons - You want em? We fuckin' got em!
And when the music starts to drop, the vibe's gonna change
We've got the country-themed bar mitzvah band Shalom on the Range
The hot girls are showing up I am so sorry you waited
But now they're finally inflated
SO WE CAN GET THIS FUCKING PARTY STA
ScoutVeemon and Mortem play Superman 64ScoutVeemon went outside, and enjoyed the nice fresh air.
ScoutVeemon: What perfection, What a beautiful day, wouldn't you say?
Sonic 06, in space, hits Superman 64 and they both fall back to earth
ScoutVeemon: Well I do believe I've forgotten why I'm standing here. Guess i'll go back inside.
ScoutVeemon Walks inside, but before he reaches the door, Superman 64 and Sonic '06 crash behind him, making him fall over.
ScoutVeemon: What happened over here?
ScoutVeemon Picks up Sonic 06, and then brushes it off with his hand.
ScoutVeemon: Fine, I guess i'll continue this game, like when I played the game with Mortem. but wait, I see an N64 Game.
ScoutVeemon picks up Superman 64 and then brushes it off with his hand.
ScoutVeemon: Superman 64, I see. I guess I'm gonna play you.
Necro Mortem enters ScoutVeemon's universe with his portal.
ScoutVeemon: Mortem? Apperently Sonic 06 came back, and Superman 64 crashed down like a meteor.
Necro Mortem: Well maybe you didn't throw it in the right angle
You're Not A PoetYou’re not a poet because of strung words
Together on row upon row again
Of blank verse or perhaps liberal rhyme.
‘Slam’ all you want, other poets wonder;
Your ignorance of couplets a blunder?
Yes! I speak harshly, but it’s no gross crime,
To point with honesty failed verse of thine.
No real poet discards upper case words;
Lets prose crawl on paper like listless worms.
You seek to free verse of those stern letters,
Sever away bleak capital fetters,
But it doesn’t sing of great speech sublime,
Rather, it sneaks of writing in spare time.
Wait! before you throw me in the icy Rhine;
It’s hard to put verse together in rhyme,
To make our dull words sound great all the time,
Hear them ring out loud, like a clear clock’s chime,
Heralding a poet’s summer prime.
Yet the sacred muses weep at your crime;
Your pentameter mangled thick like slime,
The subject not gilded in raiment fine;
Your bold ink font, crystal waters divine
Tastes bitter to the ton
Un roti de Cupidon"Patron.. je suis pas sûr que ça soit une si bonne idée..."
Un bruissement d'ailes presque froufroutant sur sa gauche le fit se retourner d'un bond, mais il ne put percevoir qu'un bref mouvement du coin de l'oeil. Ils étaient rapides, bien trop rapides. Jamais le vieux ne réussirait. De nouveau ce bruit soyeux, semblable à des ailes de tourterelles, mais bien plus proche. Dans son esprit il pouvait les voir, tournant au dessus de sa tête comme autant de vautours prêts à la curée.
Le bruit assourdi des détonations résonna et tout autour d'Emmanuel une pluie de plumes commença à virevolter tandis que cinq bruits sourds accompagnaient la chute d'autant de corps autour de lui.
"Ramasse les, petit. On a encore du boulot."
Avec une grimace mi admirative, mi dégoûtée, le jeune homme se mit au travail, enfilant des lourds gants de cuir pour se protéger. Son sup
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