(no subject)
A conversation involving a grade 7's project, and his frustration.
Ira-Time says:
Fuck you social studies!
Tyre says:
What happened?
Ira-Time says:
I have to make up and write a fucking 10-15 page story.
Ira- Time says:
Guess what.
Tyre says:
What?
Ira-Time says:
You're editing it!
Tyre says:
hmm. *whines* *moans* *complains* *edits anyway*
Ira-Time says:
yay.
Ira-Time says:
Okay, you also need to come up with a story.
Ira-Time says:
City at base of volcano. City created by minor god of volcanoes and fire. City kept worshipping major gods, but forgot their patron over the years. Only god-worshipper in city says that god is gonna destroy city. No one believes her. God sends a sign.
Ira-Time says:
City needs volunteer to go to god to beg him to not destroy city.
Ira-Time says:
Believer's son goes to god.
Ira-Time says:
God says he needs a sword of fire if they want him to spare the city
Tyre says:
Why does the god need a sword of fire?
Tyre says:
God needs a shirt.
Tyre says:
Or socks!
Tyre says:
God needs socks! For... um...
Ira-Time says:
His feet!
Ira-Time says:
hIS FEET ARE COLD!
Ira-Time says:
THE GOD OF FIRE'S FEET ARE COLD!
Ira-Time says:
IT MAKES PERFECT BLOODY SENSE!
And then there was much OMG-ing and lol-ing.
Ira-Time says:
So, any reccomendations for the replacement of the sword of FIRE?!
Ira-Time says:
... other than socks.
Ira-Time says:
This god happens to reside in a cave near the top of the volcano on which this city is on the base of-
Ira-Time says:
ORNAMENTS!
Ira-Time says:
HE NEEDS FUCKING ORNAMENTS!
Tyre says:
The god wants socks, Ira.
Tyre says:
Bring him socks.
Ira-Time says:
Omg!
Ira-Time says:
MAGIC SOCKS!
Tyre says:
Maybe people in the city could argue over what he wanted, because this god was really mysterious and opaque in his wishes.
Ira-Time says:
SO HE CAN WALK IN THE RAIN!
Tyre says:
And at the end they bring him everything, and he looks around and says, "What the flying fuck? No socks?" *smites*
Ira-Time says:
He's destroying the city at the end.
Ira-Time says:
And the hero guy is gonna kill him dead!
Ira-Time says:
Or, you know, poke him and run like hell
Ira-Time says:
He needs 'feet coverings' so he can walk on wet land and not go fo-shizzle.
Tyre says:
'Cause he's secretly a hobbit, and feetfur smells really bad when wet.
Ira-Time says:
HEY!
Ira-Time says:
HELP!
Tyre says:
Like the essence of wet dog and toe cheese combined... what now?
Tyre says:
I'm being creative!
Tyre says:
YOU'RE STIFLING MY CREATIVITY
Ira-Time says:
"Oh what do you need, mighty god, that you do not already have?"
"Magic feet coverings. In an intense burst of irony, my feet get cold easily."
Tyre says:
"Those are known as socks in our land, petit dieu."
Ira-Time says:
Are we playing card games this weekend? Can I come over and work on this?
Ira-Time says:
I'll bring you gifts of food and socks.
Ira-Time says:
0mg.
Tyre says:
?
Ira-Time says:
... Barefeet > socks.
Tyre says:
"And the god said, 'Take these fucking socks off me or I'll smite you all' and the people said, 'Fuck, you're stupid. Why don't you take them off yourself?' and the god said, 'Fuck you. I can't take them off myself, it would defeat the purpose of the story. I need a fucking hero. Duh.'"
Tyre says:
How about the volcano erupts and the god flies away on whatever the villagers fetched for him and yells back, "At least you weren't SMOTE."
Tyre says:
And all the villagers die. You could have a little cartoon at the end with a hundred sock-shaped gravestones that said "Some Villager" on them.
Tyre says:
And the god flew away on MAGIC FUCKING SOCKS, Ira.
Well, I thought it was funny. So did he, but we're a little odd anyway.
Ira-Time says:
Fuck you social studies!
Tyre says:
What happened?
Ira-Time says:
I have to make up and write a fucking 10-15 page story.
Ira- Time says:
Guess what.
Tyre says:
What?
Ira-Time says:
You're editing it!
Tyre says:
hmm. *whines* *moans* *complains* *edits anyway*
Ira-Time says:
yay.
Ira-Time says:
Okay, you also need to come up with a story.
Ira-Time says:
City at base of volcano. City created by minor god of volcanoes and fire. City kept worshipping major gods, but forgot their patron over the years. Only god-worshipper in city says that god is gonna destroy city. No one believes her. God sends a sign.
Ira-Time says:
City needs volunteer to go to god to beg him to not destroy city.
Ira-Time says:
Believer's son goes to god.
Ira-Time says:
God says he needs a sword of fire if they want him to spare the city
Tyre says:
Why does the god need a sword of fire?
Tyre says:
God needs a shirt.
Tyre says:
Or socks!
Tyre says:
God needs socks! For... um...
Ira-Time says:
His feet!
Ira-Time says:
hIS FEET ARE COLD!
Ira-Time says:
THE GOD OF FIRE'S FEET ARE COLD!
Ira-Time says:
IT MAKES PERFECT BLOODY SENSE!
And then there was much OMG-ing and lol-ing.
Ira-Time says:
So, any reccomendations for the replacement of the sword of FIRE?!
Ira-Time says:
... other than socks.
Ira-Time says:
This god happens to reside in a cave near the top of the volcano on which this city is on the base of-
Ira-Time says:
ORNAMENTS!
Ira-Time says:
HE NEEDS FUCKING ORNAMENTS!
Tyre says:
The god wants socks, Ira.
Tyre says:
Bring him socks.
Ira-Time says:
Omg!
Ira-Time says:
MAGIC SOCKS!
Tyre says:
Maybe people in the city could argue over what he wanted, because this god was really mysterious and opaque in his wishes.
Ira-Time says:
SO HE CAN WALK IN THE RAIN!
Tyre says:
And at the end they bring him everything, and he looks around and says, "What the flying fuck? No socks?" *smites*
Ira-Time says:
He's destroying the city at the end.
Ira-Time says:
And the hero guy is gonna kill him dead!
Ira-Time says:
Or, you know, poke him and run like hell
Ira-Time says:
He needs 'feet coverings' so he can walk on wet land and not go fo-shizzle.
Tyre says:
'Cause he's secretly a hobbit, and feetfur smells really bad when wet.
Ira-Time says:
HEY!
Ira-Time says:
HELP!
Tyre says:
Like the essence of wet dog and toe cheese combined... what now?
Tyre says:
I'm being creative!
Tyre says:
YOU'RE STIFLING MY CREATIVITY
Ira-Time says:
"Oh what do you need, mighty god, that you do not already have?"
"Magic feet coverings. In an intense burst of irony, my feet get cold easily."
Tyre says:
"Those are known as socks in our land, petit dieu."
Ira-Time says:
Are we playing card games this weekend? Can I come over and work on this?
Ira-Time says:
I'll bring you gifts of food and socks.
Ira-Time says:
0mg.
Tyre says:
?
Ira-Time says:
... Barefeet > socks.
Tyre says:
"And the god said, 'Take these fucking socks off me or I'll smite you all' and the people said, 'Fuck, you're stupid. Why don't you take them off yourself?' and the god said, 'Fuck you. I can't take them off myself, it would defeat the purpose of the story. I need a fucking hero. Duh.'"
Tyre says:
How about the volcano erupts and the god flies away on whatever the villagers fetched for him and yells back, "At least you weren't SMOTE."
Tyre says:
And all the villagers die. You could have a little cartoon at the end with a hundred sock-shaped gravestones that said "Some Villager" on them.
Tyre says:
And the god flew away on MAGIC FUCKING SOCKS, Ira.
Well, I thought it was funny. So did he, but we're a little odd anyway.