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Thread: Take the Cookie

  1. #431
    Son of LO praxis's Avatar
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    523 (x8)

    This leaves me in a three month dilema. I do not know what the hell moons spawn is, was, will be or wherever. My knowledge of SF and fantasy failing to furnish me with a reliable cookie stealing tactic, I restudy all the Captains posts, and it is then I identify his tragic flaw. He is seventeen.

    After getting a haircut and a new suit, I speed up to Winchester in my BMW 5 series 2.8 litre FM and start trolling through all the bars. Eventually I meet Mr and Mrs Corrigan (artistic license, I did not want to publish their real names on the internet) and proceed to show them printed copies of all his LO posts. Believing me to be a sergeant in the global internet police, they agree to question their son for me, without revealing my involvment, in return for not sending him to Borstal, where he would probably become the victim of some sexual shennanigans.

    Under the threat of having his allowance stopped, having to cook his own meals, and having to do his own laundry, Captain Corrigan breaks down in tears, and admits to stealing cookies. Telling him its ok, and honesty is always best, his parents comfort him, and get him to download the cookie onto a memory stick which they promply turn over to me. I ask them not to be too harsh with him, things could be much worse - he could be looking at porn.

    With the cookie in my possession again, I return to south Wales. But now the cookie is divorced from the internet, and exists on a memory stick in the real world. Being only a sad old electrician, and not emperor of the universe, I do the best I can, and hide the memory stick in a bird nesting box in my garden.

    MY COOKIE !

    Jager bombs. Very efficient at wiping out friend or foe.

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  3. #432
    Poet of the Deed Captain Corrigan's Avatar
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    1608 (x8)

    With my parents having followed praxis' request to go easy on me only very loosely, I awaken some days later in the medical quarters of a small fishing trawler off the Marseilles coast, with three bullet wounds and suffering from the second bout of retrograde amnesia of my short life. Somebody suggests to me that I might be Jason Bourne as they discover a laser pointer which displays a series of seemingly incomprehensible numbers and letters, and following the instructions takes me to a Zurich bank where I am informed that the cookie is no longer in my possession. Confused as to what they mean or who I am, or who the mysterious figures chasing me are, I escape and stay in an empty house in south Wales. It is slightly small, and raised off the ground, but inside I find a memory stick and a gun. I take both, running as several armed men clad in black body armour and mirrored visors (seriously, where have these guys been buying their outfits? Evil Henchmen Inc?) and one electrician appear to pursue me.

    All save two lose sight of me as I flee. One, one of the anonymous armed men, bursts out behind me, and I fire at him.

    Shooting men isn't like in films - a headshot is too unreliable - and a trained marksman will aim for the body.

    Not being a trained marksman, I blast away the whole magazine, hitting only once. Luckily, it kills him.

    The second man is more problematic. He is the electrician, and instinct tells me that I know him, even if I can't remember who he is.

    "Who are you people?" I shout at him, covering him with the (now empty) gun. "What do you want with me?"

    "You have something of mine, Corrigan," he answers, calmly, "don't you remember anything?"

    I look at him for a moment, thinking. I remember - something.

    "No," I answer, and jump off the conveniently tall building I have run to and land in a river. Surely, however, even I couldn't have survived the drop, praxis consoles himself later.

    However, search parties later fail to find either my body or the cookie, and I disappear once more.

    My cookie!

    (If you hadn't guessed, I survived the fall. Otherwise, it would be something of a pyrrhic victory.)

    -Corrigan

  4. #433
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    141 (x3)

    I tap captain corrigan's left shoulder and run past his right side grabbing the cookie wel running and disapeare in the night sky.

    My cookie!!

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  6. #434
    Poet of the Deed Captain Corrigan's Avatar
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    1608 (x8)

    To quote praxis, all I can say to that so-called cookie steal is "Must try harder."

    As if in an attempt to restore karmic balance to the universe, life decides to make furrie go drinking with @praxis . This singularly ill-advised decision results in him waking up the next morning hanging upside down from a signpost in Swansea just above a sign reading "Kill our children, not your speed."

    "Eh?" he grunts, trying to move his arm to check the time.

    Its about then that he notices that he doesn't have an arm.

    "Oh *BLAM!*" he shouts, moments before realising that his legs and clothes are missing too.

    "What the hell happened?!" he asks the bartender, who is stifling a snigger nearby.

    "You went on a rampage and donated all your limbs and possessions to charity."

    "And they let me do this?!"

    "Well, you had to haggle a bit. They weren't too keen on the mouldy biscuit you were carrying in your top pocket. Luckily for you, there was a man nearby who offered to take it off you for nothing."

    furrie's blood freezes at this, and he collapses again. Or tries to. Its not easy when you're a disembodied head hanging from a signpost.

    Meanwhile, I hide me newly-recovered cookie behind a stack of books on my bookshelf. Which ones though...well, men have died trying to find books on my bookshelf...

    My cookie!

    -Corrigan

  7. #435
    I AM the Evil Twin! Jared van Kell's Avatar
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    1466 (x8)

    Making fell and horrifying bargins with the ruinous powers (well it was actually more me "asking nicely" with my uber killy crozius in hand.) I protect the cookie with the skeins of fate and the power of chaos. Pouring petrol and kerosene over Corrigan's bookshelves I burn them all to piles of cinders and ashes. Laying neatly on top of one of the piles is the cookie bathed in radiant light for me to see.

    Corrigan tries to retrieve the cookie before I can get to it, sending his weregoats ahead of him. But it is to no avail as both he and his weregoats cower in abject terror and misery as I turn on my legendary uber crozius of AP1 smacky, smacky, killy, killy, no saves what-so-ever (it had an upgrade) death. I show no mercy obliterating both him and his weregoats utterly, scattering their atoms to the corners of existence.

    Once again laughing at the simple minded ineptitude of Captain Corrigan I take the cookie and hide it in a place nobody else but me can get to.

    Suffice to say............

    MY COOKIE!!!!!!!

    JvK
    Last edited by Jared van Kell; May 24th, 2013 at 00:12.
    Basically life sucks, there is only war and you're probably gonna get eaten by Tyranids, have fun.

    http://www.threadbombing.com/data/media/2/trek_hmm.gif

  8. #436
    Captain Obvious! zoinkboy's Avatar
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    1211 (x8)

    So trying to get a longer lunch break JvK goes to his colleagues to check what he can manage...meanwhile leaving his lunchbox unattended.
    And while I am sneaking around his workplace I see this here unguarded lunchbox, curious I peak in and what do i discover....

    ( a cookie would be to simple...) There is a map!
    This map, I take and walk the endless road to the place marked X on it.
    Here I find some smoldering bits of weregoat...but not only that... there is also a box.
    4529-cookie-monster-box-of-12-assorted-cookies_275x267.jpg

    Somewhere back in the real world I hear a loud cry....
    It is not only MY COOKIE, JvK lost his best friend in the same time
    There is too much butter... on... those... trays.
    No. No, no, senor. Not... not "on... those... trays"... No, sir.
    "Uno, dos, tres".

  9. #437
    Poet of the Deed Captain Corrigan's Avatar
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    1608 (x8)

    Eventually, however, I decide that the cookie has languished under your foul tyranny for too long, and devise a fiendishly cunning plan to recover it. Somehow, Zoinkboy managed to forget to hide the cookie despite the long months he has had it in his possession, making this rather easy for me. Re-emerging after months of absence, I smack him round the head with a conveniently-nearby and very heavy object, stunning him long enough for me to snatch the cookie. Considering the utter failure of every gambit I have come up with so far when it comes to hiding the cookie, I call in some favours and have the cookie put on a list of items protected from theft by international law and wait for some poor fool to condemn themselves in the eyes of the international community by stealing it.

    My cookie.

  10. #438
    Community Leader Roboute Guilliman's Avatar
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    553 (x8)

    I'm an African militia leader. I don't give a F*ck about international law. I put an AK-47 to your head and you hand over the cookie

  11. #439
    Senior Member Puganaut's Avatar
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    After several months of watching, waiting and strategising, I am putting my plan into action.

    I direct an unmanned 747 over Roboute Guilliman's lair. Intrigued by the sound of a low flying aircraft, he emerges from his den. Along one of the many ridges surrounding the camp, watching through binoculars, I signal to the Avengers. Stark sends a signal to a low orbiting satellite, which relays the message to Thor, who plummets from the clouds. Pounding the bearer of the cookie into the ground with over 1000 tonnes of force, Thor proceeds to hold off the militia. Stark, Captain and the Hulk demolish the base, while Romanov takes the cookie for herself, disappearing off into the distance. What she forgets, is that the cookie monster was also in the team, and they fight over the cookie in an epic kung-fu fight sequence. When the cookie drops, I dive in, and take a hot air balloon to my private submarine, which transports me to a submerged webway portal, where I hide in the shadow realm with the delicious treat.

    MY COOKIE!
    "The Future is not what it used to be..." -Niels Bohr

  12. #440
    Son of LO Marius the Possessed's Avatar
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    I shine a flashlight into the shadow realm. While Puganaut stumbles around, blinded by the light after being in the dark so long, I step in, take the cookie, then flee to the Eye of Terror and hide on my personal Daemon World, which begins spewing fake cookies (OF DAMNATION!) everywhere to hide the treat by way of decoys.

    My cookie.

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