Probably shouldn't do this... eh. *shrugs*
I started my very first Rammstein fiction today! YAY! It's nowhere near complete, but (I typed 'tub'! HAHA!) I figured I'd post what I do have so far. Nothing extremely entertaining, but I like it so far. :D
"AHHHH! MR. VHISKERS!!!"
Whoosh, to one end of the house.
"VHERE ARE YOUUUU?!"
Whoosh, to the other end of the house.
"HERE BUNNY BUNNYYY!"
Whoosh, around in circles like a constipated weiner dog, just inches away from the leather chair that Till had perched his lazy ass in for the day.
Irritated by Richard's incessant whooshing, Till promptly stuck a foot out in his path. Till felt a sick sense of satisfaction as Richard thudded violently to the ground, causing a rumble equivalent to that of a 5.2 earthquake. He laid there, whimpering in defeat, his freshly applied mascara streaming down his face.
"Vat ze sheisse, Reeshardt?" Till grumbled, finally glancing up from his My Little Pony comic.
"It iz mein bunny!" Richard replied with a sniffle. "I cannot find him anyvhere!" His neanderthal brow furrowed as he peeled his face away from the green shag carpet and stood. "You did not eat him again, did you?"
"Eat him again? I zink zat make-up iz clogging ze pores in your brain..." Till's focus returned to the comic. "Look!" he yelled with a giggle. "Ze pink one iz flying!"
"Tilllllll! You better not haff eaten mein fluffy bunny!" As if on cue, a cotton ball zoomed past Richard's head, brushing against his cheek. A sudden shriek emitted from the direction of the bathroom.
"Gottdamn it, Schneider! Get ze rest of zese things off me!"
"But you make ze cutest znowman!"
"I don't care, I... you really zink I'm cute?"
"Er... well... erm..." - the faint sound of shuffling feet could be heard - "Qvit putting vords in mein mouth!"
"I'll put zomething else in your--"
"RAUS!!" A loud 'OOMPH!' was heard as Paul was shoved from the bathroom and sent stumbling down the hall into the living room. Till caught sight of him and roared with laughter: The vertically challenged guitarist was covered from head to toe in cotton balls. The majority of them were the classic white, save for the two pink ones glued to his nipples, and the blue ones glued to his nether region. His red monk cut was the only part of him that was spared.
Richard watched attentively as Paul brought himself to his feet, his eyes gleaming. A joyous grin spread across his face, and he squealed with delight.
"MR. VHISKERS! ZHERE YOU ARE!" Richard immediately tackled Paul, capturing him in a tight bear hug. "Don't you ever run avay from me again you... hey... uh, Mr. Vhiskers, I zink you shrunk..."
"GET ZE FICK OFF OF ME, KNOB GOBBLER!" Paul struggled to break free, but with his slight build, and the fact that the itchiness of the cotton balls weakened him, he could not wriggle out of Richard's grasp...
Yeah... that's all I have so far. I think I'll continue working on it tomorrow, maybe change a few things. Hopefully, I'll be a bit more coherent when writing. Tonight, I'm out of it beyond words. Still exhausted... all I want to do is sleep, and I can't figure out why. Ach! Heh, ah well. At least I have an excuse for poor writing skills tonight! Yay!
My mom called me an alchy... I laugh in her face, and spit upon her shoes! Heh...
"Last night, my mom said the word 'until', and I was like, 'heh... Till... dammit, I'm gonna kill Jen!'" ~ Trista
Oh yeah... who rules now? Who has great powers of corruption, bitch?! YEAH!! Last night, Trista and I decided to sing songs in a Tillian fashion: deep voice, German accent, and very bad English pronunciation. It made for some interesting results. We also decided that Rammstein should do a cover of "Smells Like Teen Spirit" and "In My Place" (Coldplay). *evil grin* I think one of the songs we sang was "Are You Going To Be My Girl?" by Jet. Gott, that sounded funny! *belch*
I'm hungry. Anyone feel like making me a sandwich? Heh... "WHERE'S MY GODDAMN SANDWICH?!" *cracks whip* Richard! Come here! Sit... stay... good boy. Now... go make me a goddamn sandwich. No, no, don't yell at Flake for stealing the extra slice of bologna. He needs it! TILL! That's your 23rd trip to the fridge in the past 10 minutes! *But... but I'm ztarvink! Look how much veight I've lost! **gut blubs over his pants and down past his knees*** Hmmm... well, you do look a little smaller... but... *sigh* Fine, but this is your last trip, all right? *YAY! **skips off with a gallon and a half of ice cream and a box of Twinkies*** Now... Paul... get the Jello, the whip, and Schneider. *what about Olli?* Eh... well, I'd say he can watch, but he looks too much like Will. He can make sure Till stays away from that damn fridge. *Paul leaves the room and comes back on a leash with Schneider walking him ("Mein Teil" anyone?)* Niiiiice...
Eh.. hahaha... I said I was out of it, didn't I? Having far too much fun with that... *teehee* *falls*
I think I'd better post this now... yes... *dinky burp*
"AHHHH! MR. VHISKERS!!!"
Whoosh, to one end of the house.
"VHERE ARE YOUUUU?!"
Whoosh, to the other end of the house.
"HERE BUNNY BUNNYYY!"
Whoosh, around in circles like a constipated weiner dog, just inches away from the leather chair that Till had perched his lazy ass in for the day.
Irritated by Richard's incessant whooshing, Till promptly stuck a foot out in his path. Till felt a sick sense of satisfaction as Richard thudded violently to the ground, causing a rumble equivalent to that of a 5.2 earthquake. He laid there, whimpering in defeat, his freshly applied mascara streaming down his face.
"Vat ze sheisse, Reeshardt?" Till grumbled, finally glancing up from his My Little Pony comic.
"It iz mein bunny!" Richard replied with a sniffle. "I cannot find him anyvhere!" His neanderthal brow furrowed as he peeled his face away from the green shag carpet and stood. "You did not eat him again, did you?"
"Eat him again? I zink zat make-up iz clogging ze pores in your brain..." Till's focus returned to the comic. "Look!" he yelled with a giggle. "Ze pink one iz flying!"
"Tilllllll! You better not haff eaten mein fluffy bunny!" As if on cue, a cotton ball zoomed past Richard's head, brushing against his cheek. A sudden shriek emitted from the direction of the bathroom.
"Gottdamn it, Schneider! Get ze rest of zese things off me!"
"But you make ze cutest znowman!"
"I don't care, I... you really zink I'm cute?"
"Er... well... erm..." - the faint sound of shuffling feet could be heard - "Qvit putting vords in mein mouth!"
"I'll put zomething else in your--"
"RAUS!!" A loud 'OOMPH!' was heard as Paul was shoved from the bathroom and sent stumbling down the hall into the living room. Till caught sight of him and roared with laughter: The vertically challenged guitarist was covered from head to toe in cotton balls. The majority of them were the classic white, save for the two pink ones glued to his nipples, and the blue ones glued to his nether region. His red monk cut was the only part of him that was spared.
Richard watched attentively as Paul brought himself to his feet, his eyes gleaming. A joyous grin spread across his face, and he squealed with delight.
"MR. VHISKERS! ZHERE YOU ARE!" Richard immediately tackled Paul, capturing him in a tight bear hug. "Don't you ever run avay from me again you... hey... uh, Mr. Vhiskers, I zink you shrunk..."
"GET ZE FICK OFF OF ME, KNOB GOBBLER!" Paul struggled to break free, but with his slight build, and the fact that the itchiness of the cotton balls weakened him, he could not wriggle out of Richard's grasp...
Yeah... that's all I have so far. I think I'll continue working on it tomorrow, maybe change a few things. Hopefully, I'll be a bit more coherent when writing. Tonight, I'm out of it beyond words. Still exhausted... all I want to do is sleep, and I can't figure out why. Ach! Heh, ah well. At least I have an excuse for poor writing skills tonight! Yay!
My mom called me an alchy... I laugh in her face, and spit upon her shoes! Heh...
"Last night, my mom said the word 'until', and I was like, 'heh... Till... dammit, I'm gonna kill Jen!'" ~ Trista
Oh yeah... who rules now? Who has great powers of corruption, bitch?! YEAH!! Last night, Trista and I decided to sing songs in a Tillian fashion: deep voice, German accent, and very bad English pronunciation. It made for some interesting results. We also decided that Rammstein should do a cover of "Smells Like Teen Spirit" and "In My Place" (Coldplay). *evil grin* I think one of the songs we sang was "Are You Going To Be My Girl?" by Jet. Gott, that sounded funny! *belch*
I'm hungry. Anyone feel like making me a sandwich? Heh... "WHERE'S MY GODDAMN SANDWICH?!" *cracks whip* Richard! Come here! Sit... stay... good boy. Now... go make me a goddamn sandwich. No, no, don't yell at Flake for stealing the extra slice of bologna. He needs it! TILL! That's your 23rd trip to the fridge in the past 10 minutes! *But... but I'm ztarvink! Look how much veight I've lost! **gut blubs over his pants and down past his knees*** Hmmm... well, you do look a little smaller... but... *sigh* Fine, but this is your last trip, all right? *YAY! **skips off with a gallon and a half of ice cream and a box of Twinkies*** Now... Paul... get the Jello, the whip, and Schneider. *what about Olli?* Eh... well, I'd say he can watch, but he looks too much like Will. He can make sure Till stays away from that damn fridge. *Paul leaves the room and comes back on a leash with Schneider walking him ("Mein Teil" anyone?)* Niiiiice...
Eh.. hahaha... I said I was out of it, didn't I? Having far too much fun with that... *teehee* *falls*
I think I'd better post this now... yes... *dinky burp*