Forums! The Musical

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A loud knocking suddenly turns your attention away from the Christmas Party and towards the front door. You scratch your head, wondering what could be out there that isn’t already in here? Beer, boobs, babes...then it hits you. Oh boy! Your Christmas Pressie must finally be here!

Making your way quickly towards the door, you find yourself opening it to find a rather lanky and inebriated bird wearing a porter’s hat and holding what seems to be an empty cloth bundle. “Congra -hic- congra -hic- congratulations. You’re a mother.” Well, this is awkward. Before you can say a word, the stork’s reddened eyes widen a bit in shock. “Oh jeez, this CAN’T be right. You’re -hic- you’re not going to believe this but -hic- but I think I dropped off your present to the wrong family. They really did it this year, making -hic- making me deliver stuff other than babies. At least they didn’t send the swallows. Can’t even -hic- even carry a coconut.” You don’t seem to be paying much attention seeing as how this winged weirdo just mentioned swallows (heh, swallows), but the thought of your Pressie in the hands of some other person snaps you out of it. Well, until you see something shiny or an ice cream truck drives by or, “I think -hic- I think I left it with SportGuy. He at least invited me in for a bit -hic- for a bit of Christmas cheer.” Assimilating the information, you notice the stork pull out some cheap bottle of spirits from what you thought had been an empty bundle. Before he can put the drink to his lips, though, you pry it from his cold, flustered feathers and trudge out into the wild white yonder to find your gift.

Hell, you’re going to need it more than he does.

(Speak with SportGuy for the next exciting chapter!) 

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After several steps and several sips, you suddenly remember that everyone is back at your house for the Christmas Party and here you are, freezing your pumpkin seeds off for nothing. Go you.

Trudging past the stork and shutting the door rather abruptly in his face, you’re a little frustrated at this point. At least the wine makes a welcome new guest. Back at party central, you schmooze around until SportGuy comes into view. He’s chatting it up with some good-looking women over on the Loser Couch and NOT being beaten over the head after every sarcastic comment. Merry Christmas to him. You march over to SportGuy with half-empty bottle in hand, demanding to know where your gift is. After a moment, he seems to realize what you’re going on about. “I didn’t know it was yours, man. I traded it off to Grokly for a couple of gold rings. You know, for the ladies. Nothing says Happy Birthday to Baby Jesus quite like eight maids a milking, right?” Giving you a quick wink wink nudge nudge, SportGuy hands you an extra ring and gets back to doing...well, you don’t really want to think about it right now.

(Ready to go bother Grokly about this whole mess? Get to it!) 

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Sticking the bottle in your pocket and the ring to your lips...wait. Strike that. Reverse it. Anyways, you’re pretty off your rocker physically and mentally by this point, but you manage to slide across the room in what everyone has shrugged off as a pleasant holiday stupor. What was in that bottle, anyhow?

You don’t take much time to think about it (thinking never was a favorite hobby of yours) before spying a plump, jolly looking figure off in the corner of the room. He’s old, filled to the brim with stuffing and handing out coal to all the naughty partygoers within reach. Why, it must be the big guy himself! It isn’t until you stumble over for a closer look that you realize it’s only Grokly in a Santa suit. Even better! Before you can even explain the predicament, he pulls you in close with a sound pat on the back. At least it wasn’t a friendly spank on the rump, but this situation is awkward enough in its own way. “I just want to say one word to you - just one word...after those three...and those three...damnit! Ok...just one word. Groklinite Ore.” You’re about to protest that the aforementioned word was actually two words, but you sigh instead and simply give in. “Exactly how do you mean?” you ask curiously. “There’s a great future in Groklinite Ore. Think about it. Will you think about it?”

“Well, I guess I will, but...”

“Shh. Enough said. That’s a deal.” And without a moment’s notice, he slips you a piece of ore. Or coal. Whichever one fills you more with Christmas cheer, you naughty boy. As you reminisce over this year’s array of personal dirty deeds, Grokly puts a finger to his nose with a wry grin. Damn, that’s creepy. “Almost forgot. You should go find Impalix. She said she had something special to give you.”

(Oh God, not again! You know what to do...) 

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By now, your bottle is running on completely empty and so is your patience. You want your Christmas Pressie and you want it now-OH! Oh ho ho...Well now...

You spy Impalix well situated in the center of the party, dressed only in her Devil’s Advocates and passing out some very sensual kisses under the mistletoe. Any doubts you had of not rolling out a Christmas outfit this year seem to dry up immediately and, looking her up and down a couple times, you’re a bit disappointed that only 97 words for boobs are coming into your head. It doesn’t matter, though - that outfit is enough to make any rack look real (sounding real, though, is a completely different story). Bumbling over in drunken fashion, she sees you coming and pulls you into a warm hug complete with several [squee]s of joy. “Thanks for playing my little game, hun.” she half whispers in your ear. “Are you ready for your surprise? Merry Christmas.” Giving you a long, luxurious kiss, Impy pulls a blueprint out of her...whoa...and hands it to you. It seems some assembly is required.

Name: Outfront Steakshack Menu

Description: This appears to be a colourful menu adorned with fancy tribal shapes and headed with the catchy (and family friendly) slogan of “No Roo? Will do.” Features include overpriced appetizers, red meat indigenous to countries halfway around the globe and clever spin-offs of normal foods in order to make them sound more appealing to the general theme, including ‘Cheeky Calamari’, the snack that snickers back. If nothing looks that appealing, you could always order a straight-up salad. Not that salads hold any kind of specific orientation...

Type: Documentation

Can not be discarded
Can not be traded

Enjoy Your custom item and Merry Christmas! <3