Author Topic: Joke (Read 21161 times)

Pseudonym · « **Reply #100 on:** November 09, 2007, 07:31:22 PM »

A man walks into the Leringard Inn fancy dress party, completely naked with a naked woman on his back. Kali, somewhat concerned approaches and says,
"Pardon me Sir, no costume, no admittance"
"But I am in costume" he counters.
"What have you come as?"
"I'm a tortoise", says the man.
"Well why have you got a naked woman on your back?" asks Kali.
"That's not a woman - its Michelle" says the man.

Stephen_Zuckerman · « **Reply #101 on:** November 09, 2007, 11:36:38 PM »

I don't get it.

Acacea · « **Reply #102 on:** November 10, 2007, 12:18:22 AM »

(Tortoise... michelle...m'shell...)

Stephen_Zuckerman · « **Reply #103 on:** November 10, 2007, 12:45:15 AM »

*Groans and dies.*

You made a pun I didn't get. For this, you lose your joking license.

Marswipp · « **Reply #104 on:** November 11, 2007, 01:31:12 PM »

Quote from: Acacea

(Tortoise... michelle...m'shell...)

"My shell"

Pseudonym · « **Reply #105 on:** November 22, 2007, 12:24:30 AM »

I'm really happy with how that last joke went .. it's generally agreed that jokes are much funnier when they're explained anyway. If you need this next one explained, feel free to PM me!

Once upon a recent time, there was a dwarven adventurer named Fenrir who showed no fear when facing his enemies. There came a day, while carving his way through the rift, one of his companions spotted a party of vicious dark elves approaching, and the small party became very nervous about their impending doom. Brave Fenrir bellowed, "Bring me ma' red breastplate!"

His mate quickly retrieved the Fenrir's red breastplate, and while wearing the brightly coloured armour, Fenrir led his companions into battle and defeated the dangerous dark elves. That evening, back on the surface, all the adventurers sat around recounting the triumph of earlier. One of them asked Fenrir, "Fenrir? Why did ye call fer yur red breastplate before battle?"

Fenrir replied, "Laddie, If I were to be wounded in the fight, the plate would nay show me blood. Thus, you lads would keep up tha fight, nay afraid."

All of the party sat and marvelled at the courage of such a dwarfly dwarf's dwarf. As the sun rose the next morning, the CNR respawned and the party heaed down again and again they reach the site of the dark elf spawn. This time however they discover a GM has been at work and there is not double, not treble, but TEN times the amount of dark elves as normal rushing to attack. The party stared in worshipful silence at Fenrir and wait for his usual orders.

Fenrir gazed with steely eyes upon the vast army of dark elves arrayed against him and without fear, turned and calmly shouted, "Get me ma' brown pants."

Stephen_Zuckerman · « **Reply #106 on:** November 22, 2007, 12:41:15 AM »

HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA i'm totally doing that with Cutter

Acacea · « **Reply #107 on:** November 22, 2007, 12:44:12 AM »

Hee hee.

Falonthas · « **Reply #108 on:** November 22, 2007, 10:44:47 AM »

that was good

Pseudonym · « **Reply #109 on:** November 22, 2007, 05:37:39 PM »

Zupzupzandzawae is working on his beetle bus and collecting tickets. He rings the bell to signal the beetle is about to set off while there's a gnomish lady still getting on the giant bug. Zup sets off, the gnomish lady falls from the beetle and is killed underneath it's giant feet.

At the trial Zup is sent down for murder and seeing as it's a city governed by Rofireinite law he's sent to the electric chair. Yes, they have electric chairs, read on. On the day of his execution he's strapped in the chair and the Judge of Rofirein grants him a final wish.

"Well" says Zup, "is that your packed lunch over there?"
"Yes" answers the Rofireinite.
"Can I have that green banana?" Zup asks.
The Rofireinte gives Zup his green banana and waits until he's eaten it. When Zup has finished, the judge motions to the two clerics standing by who cast their call lightning spells down upon him. When the smoke clears he is still alive! The judge can't believe it.

"Can I go?" Zup asks.
"I suppose so" says the judge, "that's never happened before."

Zup leaves and eventually gets his job back on the beetle. A few days into it he again rings the bell for the beetle to go when people are still getting on. This time an elderly gnomish gent falls under the bug and is killed. Zup is sent down for murder again and sent to the electric chair.

The judge of Rofirein is determined to do it right this time so calls in a dozen of Rofi's finest clerics. Zup is again strapped in the chair.

"What is your final wish?" asks the judge.
"Can I have that green banana in your packed lunch?" says the condemned adventurer. The judge sighs and reluctantly gives up his banana. Zup eats the banana all up and the judge again motions to the clerics.

A veritable storm of lightning bolts rain down upon poor little Zup. When the smoke clears Zup is still there smiling in the chair. The judge can't believe it and lets him go.

Well, would you believe, Zup gets his job back on the giant beetle. Once again he rings the bell whilst passengers are still getting on, this time killing three of them. He is sent to the electric chair again.

The judge summons all the clerics of Rofirein and calls in some mages for their chain lightnings and a few druids as well for good measure, determined to get his gnome this time. Zup sits down in the chair smiling.

"What's your final wish?" asks the judge.
"Well" says Zup, "Can I have that green banana out of your packed lunch?"
The judge hands over his banana and Zup eats it all, skin included. The judge motions and a zillion lightning bolts rain down on little Zup. When the smoke rises he is still there, alive, without even a burn mark.

"I give up" says the judge, "I don't understand. How you can still be alive after all that?" He strokes his chin. "It's something to do with that green banana isn't it?"

"Nah" says Zup ... "I'm just a really bad conductor."

Stephen_Zuckerman · « **Reply #110 on:** November 22, 2007, 06:14:13 PM »

You and your beetle bus. *Chuckles.*

Pseudonym · « **Reply #111 on:** November 30, 2007, 09:48:06 PM »

It's a sunny morning in the Forest of Fog and the Dire Bear family is just waking up. Baby Dire Bear goes downstairs and sits in his small chair at the table. He looks into his small bowl. It is empty!

"Who's been eating my porridge?" he squeaks.

Daddy Dire Bear arrives at the table and sits in his big chair. He looks into his big bowl. It is also empty!

"Who's been eating my porridge?" he roars.

Mummy Dire Bear puts her head through the serving hatch from the kitchen and yells,

"For Pete's sake, how many times do we have to go through this? It was Mummy Dire Bear who got up first. It was Mummy Dire Bear who woke everybody else in the cave up. It was Mummy Dire Bear who cleaned the bones from the over-confident adventurers last night and put everything away. It was Mummy Dire Bear who went out into the cold early morning air to fetch the Dragon's Whisper. It was Mummy Dire Bear who set the table. It was Mummy Dire Bear who put the cat out, cleaned the litter box, and filled the cat's water and food dish. And now that you've decided to come down stairs and grace me with your presence, you'd better listen real good because I'm only going to say this one more time: I haven't made the porridge yet!!!!"

darkstorme · « **Reply #112 on:** November 30, 2007, 11:47:02 PM »

Three priests were slated for execution in Prantz, having been discovered (separately) to possess material with intent to undermine Lord Rael's rule. On the day immediately preceding the execution, the three were tossed in a cell together. Their looming deaths notwithstanding, priests are priests, and they set to arguing whose god was the greatest.

The first, a human, was a Corathite. Tattooed with black ink in patterns that made the eyes hurt even to look at, he sneered at the other two in his cell. "The Black Sun could brush your paltry excuses for gods away at his leisure!", he boasted. "Count yourselves fortunate that He hasn't yet deigned to do so!"

The second, an elf, and an Aragenite, scoffed. "Perhaps you're familiar with the phrase, 'Knowledge is power', you trumped up little cretin? Corath knows of nothing but destruction. The Lord of Knowledge wields ultimate power."

The third, a gnome, bounced about as if brimming with energy, despite their imprisonment. "You'rebothwrong, it'sGoranwho'smostpowerful! Hecanmakeanythinghewants, andhecouldeasilycontriveamechanismtoeliminateeitherofyourmasters."

After the gnome caught his breath, the three managed to come to an agreement. Before their execution, each would do their utmost to prove, as a representative of their deity, that theirs was, indeed, the greatest.

First to the guillotine was the Corathite. As his neck was placed in the notch, he snarled imprecations at the crowd, the executioner... virtually anyone. The headsman pulled the lever... and the blade did not fall. "See!", cried the man. "My Master is the Lord of Death - if I am not cast into the darkness by this blade, it must be that He does not wish it, and intercedes on my behalf! Cower, brief mortals, for you face the wrath of Corath, should you again make an attempt on my life!"

While the executioners were not deeply pious men themselves, this seemed serious. They let the man go, and he grinned triumphantly up at the other two as he headed for the city gates.

The Aragenite was a bit put out by this, but as he mounted the stage, and his head was forced down, his fertile mind was at work. The headsman pulled the switch... and again, the blade did not fall. His mind blazing with inspiration, the elf launched into a diatribe, focusing on a footnote to a chapter of the Prantz legal code, that even the lawmakers had to look up. The priest's exhaustive knowledge of the code, however, left the officials so hopelessly befuddled that they had no choice but to set him free. He smiled beatifically as he strode towards the gate, sparing a glance for the gnome, left alone on the grandstand.

The Goranite was quite concerned now, that he might not make a proper showing of himself. After all, the other two had drawn on their deity's baliwicks so effectively - how could he hope to match their performance? As they laid him down, his neck through the notch, he looked upwards at the glittering blade.. and started to laugh! The executioners, understandably nonplussed, asked what it was that he found so amusing?

"Those fools!", he laughed. "Thinking they're so clever, or so powerful. Any Goranite worth his salt could tell you that all you need to do is replace that spring up there, and the blade release mechanism will work perfectly!"

LightlyFrosted · « **Reply #113 on:** December 01, 2007, 12:49:22 PM »

A half orc walks into a bar.

Ouch.

LightlyFrosted · « **Reply #114 on:** December 02, 2007, 11:21:19 PM »

Okay. I've got to redeem myself here...

Jimble Thornmallow, a very old male halfling, is on his deathbed, age one hundred and thirty-two. Beside him is his wife, Dotty, to whom he has been married for some eighty years. He's surrounded by relatives, and he gazes into the eyes of his wife, and begins to speak.

"Dotty.. you've been my wife for eighty years and change. Through every bit, thick and thin, you've been by my side." He takes a drink of water, then continues.

"When the war with Bloodstone began, and I went out as a merchant sailor on one of the warships, you were by my side whenever you could be. When our business was robbed, you clung tight to me, and re-assured me that everything was going to be alright. When they slew Blood, and that big cloud blotted out the sun, you held my hands all day, as we wondered if the world was coming to an end. And now, Dotty, here I am, dying in bed, and you're still right here by my side."

The halfling manages something that's more of a smile than a wince. "Dotty.. You're a jinx."

darkstorme · « **Reply #115 on:** December 03, 2007, 12:17:36 AM »

'Tis said that Storold Doesscha, great Protector of the Weave and wizard of tremendous acumen, recently took an acolyte of Lucinda out camping, to familiarize him with the manifold connections between Nature and the Weave.

They lit a campfire, and Storold lectured the lad on the ethics of power, and that all magic is done to glorify Lucinda, whatever its secondary purpose. Then they pitched their tent and bedded down for the night.

The acolyte awoke, to find it still dark, at an insistent prodding at his side. He turned to see that Storold had awakened him. "W-*yawn*-what is it, Protector?", he asked.

Storold pointed to the sky above them. "Lad, you see those stars above us? What do they mean to you?"

Thinking it a test, the acolyte thought quickly. "Well, I see the Circle of Eight has moved into a prominent position - this bodes well for our Lady in future troubles amongst the gods." He thought for a second further, "On a grander scale, I suppose that the Dragons came from out there someplace, and so we can only assume that Dragons live throughout the skies... and as Dragons are, in their very nature, magical, so too our Lady's reach must extend beyond this single planet." Finally, considering the subjects under discussion earlier, he added, "Also, that we can see the constellations at all suggests that tomorrow will be clear, and a pleasant day." He turned to Storold, hoping he had answered the question correctly.

"All very good," the Protector nodded, "But what the fact that we can see the constellations at all truly suggests... is that someone has stolen our tent."

Pseudonym · « **Reply #116 on:** December 13, 2007, 06:29:18 PM »

// If I get banned for this, please remember me by my good work in other threads. //

One of the vampires from Arindor's Demise wandered past the mercenaries ... past the gnolls ... straight into the township of Haven. It being a pretty long walk (on the map if not in game) and not having enjoyed a meal since the party of level <10 adventurers that came in last week, he was very glad when a Lt Jursen, visiting from Fort Llast wandered past him. It didn't take the vampire long to grab Jursen, drag him up into the nearby hills and suck every drop of blood out of him. Now the vampire was faced with a problem.
"How do I dispose of this body?" he wondered.
The only solution he could come with was to throw the new corpse down to the town below.
"I'm so high up, they'll never trace the body back to me. Ha ha!" he cackled. So *whoosh* down went the corpse.

It just so happens that right below that spot was the customary station of an itinerant street singer. BANG! The singer got hit right on his noggin by the falling body and was knocked unconscious. Alarmed by the commotion Officer Kit runs up the mountain to investigate.

Ten minutes later the she arrives and the vampire attacks! Again, afterwards, the fearsome undead wondered,
"How do I get rid of the body?" and then thought, "Well, it worked once and, in fact, brought me another meal. Why not again?"

So down the hill went his latest victim. At that moment the street singer below had just regained consciousness and was wondering what the heck was going on. His consciousness didn't last long, however, as he was instantly knocked out cold by the vampire's second victim.

Some time later the singer woke up and saw that a small crowd had gathered around. As he regained his bearings, one of the onlookers asked,
"What happened here?"
"It's terrible," sang the street singer.

"Drained cops keep falling on my head!"

Stephen_Zuckerman · « **Reply #117 on:** December 13, 2007, 06:34:21 PM »

That's just too terrible. You fail. Forever.

Acacea · « **Reply #118 on:** December 13, 2007, 07:28:37 PM »

Ughhhhh. *Falls down dead.*

darkstorme · « **Reply #119 on:** December 13, 2007, 08:50:38 PM »

Now, many people wake in Vehl (or go to bed after a long night of muggings, stabbings, and dirty dealings) to the sound of the bell in the Rofireinite chapel tolling to the morning's light.

Few people, however, realize that an aged halfling, Thornwait Twinkletoes, once a cleric of Rofirein before he suffered a crippling injury that made it difficult to walk, let alone stand for a whole sermon, or worse, adventure, lives in the bell tower. He took the job of ringing the bell regularly, every day. However, he was getting too old to do his job, so he put out an ad in the Harpy for a replacement.

A human showed up the first day. Peering up at the human, Thornwait said, "Don't tell me your name, sonny.. we'll have to see if you fit the bill before we get all formal-like. You ever rung a bell before?"

"No sir, but I try hard."

"Hmph. We'll see." The halfling led the tall man up the stairs into the bell tower. "Now, y'see here, we've only got the one rope. It's right next to the bell, so you'll have to duck when you pull it, got it?"

"Got it!"

"Alright, let's see you ring this thing." The human grabbed the rope, and pulled hard. And forgot to duck. He turned just in time to see the bell swinging towards him like the claw of the Gold. With a resounding *BONNNG*, the heavy bronze hit him square in the face and knocked him out through the bell tower's window. He fell, screaming, and died on impact.

The guard hurried over, just as Thornwait made his painful way out of the church. "Mr. Twinkletoes - do you know this man?"

The halfing looked at the fallen man and shook his head. "I dunno his name.. but his face rings a bell!"