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Welcome, to the crazy world of Altec Lansing. What is it you ask? Not just another last GAD attempt, but a completely random er.. place. Well I hope I can amuse some of you, and if not, just lie to make me feel better. I may do another, if this goes down well, but this particular issue, follows the obscure events of Metal Gear Solid 2 creator Hideo Kojima…
----------
‘I don’t think that’s relevant!’ exclaimed Mr Kojima powerfully, looking towards the back of the classroom. The students watched as the penguin folded up his newspaper, and edged out of the door, somewhat disturbed. ‘Now, let’s return to our work.’
‘Sir?’ the voice came from a certain young Timmy, a frail boy who was prone to unfortunate accidents involving fire.
‘Yes?’
‘Well, what are we supposed to be doing?’ demanded the young boy, surprising even himself. His question was punctuated by murmurs of agreement from his classmates. Mr Kojima was rather taken aback.
‘Why yes, that is a pickle,’ said the MGS2 creator, indicating towards a pickle in his lunchbox. ‘But that’s not answering your question.’ After thinking for a few short moments, and consulting his ‘idea notebook’, Kojima-san dialled the number for his education administrator. Due to his clumsy dialling wand, however, he reached Penguin’s Anonymous.
‘Hello, who is it?’ said Herman the Happy Snail quickly, as if busy.
‘Erm.. this is Mr Kojima…’ There was a brief pause on the other end, until…
‘Oy! Fred! It’s that nutcase that kicked you out of his lesson!’
‘No wait!’ begged Kojima-san, ‘I’m actually a penguin in a subtle disguise!’
‘Araggahhahhahhgghahhahhghghaaa?’ yelled the petrified snail, confusing himself into a state of self-implosion. The line went dead.
‘Heh heh heh,’ chuckled Mr Kojima ‘works every time. Bye!’ And with that, he took off at pace, mounted his noble steed, and rode off into the desert – the school exploding symbolically behind him, and various parts of young Timmy’s burning carcass flying amongst the wreckage, to be later gnawed at by hungry penguins.
-----
The sun beat down on the old Japanese developer’s back, as he urged his trusty horse forward. ‘Faster Mr Shinkawa! Faster!’ he would chant, using his whip to emphasise his words every so often. Eventually, the two stopped at an old, western bar. As Kojima dismounted, he felt a strange presence around his body.
‘Raiden! For crying out loud! Must you do that?’
‘Sorry. I.. er.. had the urge.’ admitted the frisky homosexual ‘Anyway, what are you doing here?’ he added, leading Mr K into the building and up to the bar.
‘Just looking to whet my whistle’ Kojima-san enforced.
‘Well you’ve come to the right place!’ chanted the other members of the YMCA, enticingly.
‘So what’ll it be… partner?’ grinned the barkeep.
Mr Kojima was already galloping away, beating Mr Shinkawa so much that they travelled at an immense speed and turned half the barflies on in the process.
-----
We caught up with Kojima-san back at his house, enjoying a cool glass of rum and paint shavings with his parents. Taking advantage of this opportunity, we saw a chance to get a bit of background information on this special guy.
‘Mr Kojima’s first word was ‘tickleatoe’, at the age of two’ chuckled Mr K’s mother, his father looking eager. ‘He then taught himself programming at the age of four. When he told us he wanted to become a games creator, we thought he was kidding!’ his parents quite literally roared with laughter at this point, and we had to slip them a quick sedative to calm them down.
‘But it turned out he was serious,’ continued his now rather out of it father ‘deadly serious…’ The rest of us watched as the poor man slumped to the floor, and began to chase his non-existent tail.
‘Of course, there were some down points in his life’ said his mother, concerned. His father gave a grave rotation as if to nod. ‘Remember that song? Well it was about our son. Yes, he did kill the radio star. That was back under his name of… Hideo.’
‘Mother!’ exclaimed Mr Kojima, orgasmically.
‘Argh! Speak not the name! Speak not the name!’ rotated his father, terrified.
‘I am sorry,’ apologised Mrs Kojima ‘I am now only allowed to call him… Hideo… at 6:00 PM on Sundays. It’s a strict rule, that we stick to.’
Unfortunately, we had to leave Mr Kojima at this point, for he had to appear in a chicken-fighting tournament as a surprise contestant. We hope however, we have provided you with an interesting insight into the crazy world of Altec Lansing.
----------
----------
‘I don’t think that’s relevant!’ exclaimed Mr Kojima powerfully, looking towards the back of the classroom. The students watched as the penguin folded up his newspaper, and edged out of the door, somewhat disturbed. ‘Now, let’s return to our work.’
‘Sir?’ the voice came from a certain young Timmy, a frail boy who was prone to unfortunate accidents involving fire.
‘Yes?’
‘Well, what are we supposed to be doing?’ demanded the young boy, surprising even himself. His question was punctuated by murmurs of agreement from his classmates. Mr Kojima was rather taken aback.
‘Why yes, that is a pickle,’ said the MGS2 creator, indicating towards a pickle in his lunchbox. ‘But that’s not answering your question.’ After thinking for a few short moments, and consulting his ‘idea notebook’, Kojima-san dialled the number for his education administrator. Due to his clumsy dialling wand, however, he reached Penguin’s Anonymous.
‘Hello, who is it?’ said Herman the Happy Snail quickly, as if busy.
‘Erm.. this is Mr Kojima…’ There was a brief pause on the other end, until…
‘Oy! Fred! It’s that nutcase that kicked you out of his lesson!’
‘No wait!’ begged Kojima-san, ‘I’m actually a penguin in a subtle disguise!’
‘Araggahhahhahhgghahhahhghghaaa?’ yelled the petrified snail, confusing himself into a state of self-implosion. The line went dead.
‘Heh heh heh,’ chuckled Mr Kojima ‘works every time. Bye!’ And with that, he took off at pace, mounted his noble steed, and rode off into the desert – the school exploding symbolically behind him, and various parts of young Timmy’s burning carcass flying amongst the wreckage, to be later gnawed at by hungry penguins.
-----
The sun beat down on the old Japanese developer’s back, as he urged his trusty horse forward. ‘Faster Mr Shinkawa! Faster!’ he would chant, using his whip to emphasise his words every so often. Eventually, the two stopped at an old, western bar. As Kojima dismounted, he felt a strange presence around his body.
‘Raiden! For crying out loud! Must you do that?’
‘Sorry. I.. er.. had the urge.’ admitted the frisky homosexual ‘Anyway, what are you doing here?’ he added, leading Mr K into the building and up to the bar.
‘Just looking to whet my whistle’ Kojima-san enforced.
‘Well you’ve come to the right place!’ chanted the other members of the YMCA, enticingly.
‘So what’ll it be… partner?’ grinned the barkeep.
Mr Kojima was already galloping away, beating Mr Shinkawa so much that they travelled at an immense speed and turned half the barflies on in the process.
-----
We caught up with Kojima-san back at his house, enjoying a cool glass of rum and paint shavings with his parents. Taking advantage of this opportunity, we saw a chance to get a bit of background information on this special guy.
‘Mr Kojima’s first word was ‘tickleatoe’, at the age of two’ chuckled Mr K’s mother, his father looking eager. ‘He then taught himself programming at the age of four. When he told us he wanted to become a games creator, we thought he was kidding!’ his parents quite literally roared with laughter at this point, and we had to slip them a quick sedative to calm them down.
‘But it turned out he was serious,’ continued his now rather out of it father ‘deadly serious…’ The rest of us watched as the poor man slumped to the floor, and began to chase his non-existent tail.
‘Of course, there were some down points in his life’ said his mother, concerned. His father gave a grave rotation as if to nod. ‘Remember that song? Well it was about our son. Yes, he did kill the radio star. That was back under his name of… Hideo.’
‘Mother!’ exclaimed Mr Kojima, orgasmically.
‘Argh! Speak not the name! Speak not the name!’ rotated his father, terrified.
‘I am sorry,’ apologised Mrs Kojima ‘I am now only allowed to call him… Hideo… at 6:00 PM on Sundays. It’s a strict rule, that we stick to.’
Unfortunately, we had to leave Mr Kojima at this point, for he had to appear in a chicken-fighting tournament as a surprise contestant. We hope however, we have provided you with an interesting insight into the crazy world of Altec Lansing.
----------
Heh, thanks :).
Hoho, penguins!
They add that little something to a story.
Nice one Mr M42!
They add that little something to a story.
Nice one Mr M42!
Cheers :D.
One of the strangest posts I have ever read yet the style and language used was top draw! Great post!
I'll interpret that as 'genius'..
wierd....
:-D
:-D
Ohhhhhhh k.
Welcome, to the crazy world of Altec Lansing. What is it you ask? Not just another last GAD attempt, but a completely random er.. place. Well I hope I can amuse some of you, and if not, just lie to make me feel better. I may do another, if this goes down well, but this particular issue, follows the obscure events of Metal Gear Solid 2 creator Hideo Kojima…
----------
‘I don’t think that’s relevant!’ exclaimed Mr Kojima powerfully, looking towards the back of the classroom. The students watched as the penguin folded up his newspaper, and edged out of the door, somewhat disturbed. ‘Now, let’s return to our work.’
‘Sir?’ the voice came from a certain young Timmy, a frail boy who was prone to unfortunate accidents involving fire.
‘Yes?’
‘Well, what are we supposed to be doing?’ demanded the young boy, surprising even himself. His question was punctuated by murmurs of agreement from his classmates. Mr Kojima was rather taken aback.
‘Why yes, that is a pickle,’ said the MGS2 creator, indicating towards a pickle in his lunchbox. ‘But that’s not answering your question.’ After thinking for a few short moments, and consulting his ‘idea notebook’, Kojima-san dialled the number for his education administrator. Due to his clumsy dialling wand, however, he reached Penguin’s Anonymous.
‘Hello, who is it?’ said Herman the Happy Snail quickly, as if busy.
‘Erm.. this is Mr Kojima…’ There was a brief pause on the other end, until…
‘Oy! Fred! It’s that nutcase that kicked you out of his lesson!’
‘No wait!’ begged Kojima-san, ‘I’m actually a penguin in a subtle disguise!’
‘Araggahhahhahhgghahhahhghghaaa?’ yelled the petrified snail, confusing himself into a state of self-implosion. The line went dead.
‘Heh heh heh,’ chuckled Mr Kojima ‘works every time. Bye!’ And with that, he took off at pace, mounted his noble steed, and rode off into the desert – the school exploding symbolically behind him, and various parts of young Timmy’s burning carcass flying amongst the wreckage, to be later gnawed at by hungry penguins.
-----
The sun beat down on the old Japanese developer’s back, as he urged his trusty horse forward. ‘Faster Mr Shinkawa! Faster!’ he would chant, using his whip to emphasise his words every so often. Eventually, the two stopped at an old, western bar. As Kojima dismounted, he felt a strange presence around his body.
‘Raiden! For crying out loud! Must you do that?’
‘Sorry. I.. er.. had the urge.’ admitted the frisky homosexual ‘Anyway, what are you doing here?’ he added, leading Mr K into the building and up to the bar.
‘Just looking to whet my whistle’ Kojima-san enforced.
‘Well you’ve come to the right place!’ chanted the other members of the YMCA, enticingly.
‘So what’ll it be… partner?’ grinned the barkeep.
Mr Kojima was already galloping away, beating Mr Shinkawa so much that they travelled at an immense speed and turned half the barflies on in the process.
-----
We caught up with Kojima-san back at his house, enjoying a cool glass of rum and paint shavings with his parents. Taking advantage of this opportunity, we saw a chance to get a bit of background information on this special guy.
‘Mr Kojima’s first word was ‘tickleatoe’, at the age of two’ chuckled Mr K’s mother, his father looking eager. ‘He then taught himself programming at the age of four. When he told us he wanted to become a games creator, we thought he was kidding!’ his parents quite literally roared with laughter at this point, and we had to slip them a quick sedative to calm them down.
‘But it turned out he was serious,’ continued his now rather out of it father ‘deadly serious…’ The rest of us watched as the poor man slumped to the floor, and began to chase his non-existent tail.
‘Of course, there were some down points in his life’ said his mother, concerned. His father gave a grave rotation as if to nod. ‘Remember that song? Well it was about our son. Yes, he did kill the radio star. That was back under his name of… Hideo.’
‘Mother!’ exclaimed Mr Kojima, orgasmically.
‘Argh! Speak not the name! Speak not the name!’ rotated his father, terrified.
‘I am sorry,’ apologised Mrs Kojima ‘I am now only allowed to call him… Hideo… at 6:00 PM on Sundays. It’s a strict rule, that we stick to.’
Unfortunately, we had to leave Mr Kojima at this point, for he had to appear in a chicken-fighting tournament as a surprise contestant. We hope however, we have provided you with an interesting insight into the crazy world of Altec Lansing.
----------
----------
‘I don’t think that’s relevant!’ exclaimed Mr Kojima powerfully, looking towards the back of the classroom. The students watched as the penguin folded up his newspaper, and edged out of the door, somewhat disturbed. ‘Now, let’s return to our work.’
‘Sir?’ the voice came from a certain young Timmy, a frail boy who was prone to unfortunate accidents involving fire.
‘Yes?’
‘Well, what are we supposed to be doing?’ demanded the young boy, surprising even himself. His question was punctuated by murmurs of agreement from his classmates. Mr Kojima was rather taken aback.
‘Why yes, that is a pickle,’ said the MGS2 creator, indicating towards a pickle in his lunchbox. ‘But that’s not answering your question.’ After thinking for a few short moments, and consulting his ‘idea notebook’, Kojima-san dialled the number for his education administrator. Due to his clumsy dialling wand, however, he reached Penguin’s Anonymous.
‘Hello, who is it?’ said Herman the Happy Snail quickly, as if busy.
‘Erm.. this is Mr Kojima…’ There was a brief pause on the other end, until…
‘Oy! Fred! It’s that nutcase that kicked you out of his lesson!’
‘No wait!’ begged Kojima-san, ‘I’m actually a penguin in a subtle disguise!’
‘Araggahhahhahhgghahhahhghghaaa?’ yelled the petrified snail, confusing himself into a state of self-implosion. The line went dead.
‘Heh heh heh,’ chuckled Mr Kojima ‘works every time. Bye!’ And with that, he took off at pace, mounted his noble steed, and rode off into the desert – the school exploding symbolically behind him, and various parts of young Timmy’s burning carcass flying amongst the wreckage, to be later gnawed at by hungry penguins.
-----
The sun beat down on the old Japanese developer’s back, as he urged his trusty horse forward. ‘Faster Mr Shinkawa! Faster!’ he would chant, using his whip to emphasise his words every so often. Eventually, the two stopped at an old, western bar. As Kojima dismounted, he felt a strange presence around his body.
‘Raiden! For crying out loud! Must you do that?’
‘Sorry. I.. er.. had the urge.’ admitted the frisky homosexual ‘Anyway, what are you doing here?’ he added, leading Mr K into the building and up to the bar.
‘Just looking to whet my whistle’ Kojima-san enforced.
‘Well you’ve come to the right place!’ chanted the other members of the YMCA, enticingly.
‘So what’ll it be… partner?’ grinned the barkeep.
Mr Kojima was already galloping away, beating Mr Shinkawa so much that they travelled at an immense speed and turned half the barflies on in the process.
-----
We caught up with Kojima-san back at his house, enjoying a cool glass of rum and paint shavings with his parents. Taking advantage of this opportunity, we saw a chance to get a bit of background information on this special guy.
‘Mr Kojima’s first word was ‘tickleatoe’, at the age of two’ chuckled Mr K’s mother, his father looking eager. ‘He then taught himself programming at the age of four. When he told us he wanted to become a games creator, we thought he was kidding!’ his parents quite literally roared with laughter at this point, and we had to slip them a quick sedative to calm them down.
‘But it turned out he was serious,’ continued his now rather out of it father ‘deadly serious…’ The rest of us watched as the poor man slumped to the floor, and began to chase his non-existent tail.
‘Of course, there were some down points in his life’ said his mother, concerned. His father gave a grave rotation as if to nod. ‘Remember that song? Well it was about our son. Yes, he did kill the radio star. That was back under his name of… Hideo.’
‘Mother!’ exclaimed Mr Kojima, orgasmically.
‘Argh! Speak not the name! Speak not the name!’ rotated his father, terrified.
‘I am sorry,’ apologised Mrs Kojima ‘I am now only allowed to call him… Hideo… at 6:00 PM on Sundays. It’s a strict rule, that we stick to.’
Unfortunately, we had to leave Mr Kojima at this point, for he had to appear in a chicken-fighting tournament as a surprise contestant. We hope however, we have provided you with an interesting insight into the crazy world of Altec Lansing.
----------