The MUCH Faster Loading, Floating Tree house by mai

Rat! I LOVE the feathers! That boa is sooo you!

Mal-licious

Co-Holder of the Red Bell from Hell

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Saturday, January 22, 2005 5:55 PM

That's not me, that's someone else! I'm still hideing under the pool table.

-Ratboy

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Saturday, January 22, 2005 6:04 PM

CAGEYBEE

*KGB comes back from the east wing in slinky dress #2 and a pillow version of herself dressed in slinky dress #1*

I just made this in my room. Pretty neato, huh? Anyway, Mal, if you feel like bonking anybody with scepter or bats or microphones, the Pillow Me can take it.

*whispers in Pillow KGB's ear, to which Pillow KGB whips her up a margarita and then sits down next to the bar*

I should have sewed a Pillow Me a long time ago. They're so agreeable...and so pretty.

me

~Mal- "how drunk was i last night?"
~Jayne- "i don't know. i passed out."

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Saturday, January 22, 2005 7:15 PM

* The Real Me dares not look. *

Uh, is Rat wearing something BESIDES the feather boa?

The Real Me

(The Real Me cannot currently receive messages from this site; he is not ignoring you.)

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Saturday, January 22, 2005 7:18 PM

Quote:
Originally posted by cageybee:
*KGB comes back from the east wing in slinky dress #2 and a pillow version of herself dressed in slinky dress #1*

I just made this in my room. Pretty neato, huh? Anyway, Mal, if you feel like bonking anybody with scepter or bats or microphones, the Pillow Me can take it.

*whispers in Pillow KGB's ear, to which Pillow KGB whips her up a margarita and then sits down next to the bar*

I should have sewed a Pillow Me a long time ago. They're so agreeable...and so pretty.

me

~Mal- "how drunk was i last night?"
~Jayne- "i don't know. i passed out."

Huh!

A Pillow Golem!

I thought that you had to make golems out of clay or rock...

The Real Me

(The Real Me cannot currently receive messages from this site; he is not ignoring you.)

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Saturday, January 22, 2005 8:28 PM

trm. FOR THE LAST TIME, THATS NOT ME!!!
I dont know who that is, but I'm still under the pool table. It must be an impostor. I say we shoot first and ask questions later!

-Ratboy

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Saturday, January 22, 2005 11:17 PM

* The Real Me looks at Rat wearing the feather boa, then he looks under the pool table at Rat trying to hide. He looks back and forth a few times. *

Hmmmm...

Maybe when I teleported you over from the (Old) Thread Dedicated to Mal-licious, you were already here? It was done all in a rush, so perhaps I didn't synchronize the time right. Don't worry, I soon expect one of you to go off to Mal-licious' thread, to end up being teleported here. It will work out in the end.

Or maybe one of you IS an imposter?

Oh, or maybe your superpower is that you can split into TWO Rats?

* To the hiding Rat, The Real Me adds: *

Say, do you know that you are in Ebo's spot?

The Real Me

(The Real Me cannot currently receive messages from this site; he is not ignoring you.)

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Sunday, January 23, 2005 8:59 AM

*one of those spiffy porthole things open and ebo falls out.*

Ow.

Bloody hell. English homework is distroying my life! Did i miss the pangent? I hope i diddn't miss the pagent!

*Ebo looks around and sees that there are people in various states of pagent-readyness, but that the pagentistelf had yet to start.*

Yay! Just lemmie get ready!

*Ebo dives under the pool table to find her dress.*

What in the hell is that? There's something under here! Help!

*Ebo scrambles out from under the pool table and clambors up onto YOU's shoulders.*

Did you see that? There's some hairy monster under there! It tired to eat me! Call the police! No, the army! Definatly the army!

Heeeellllppppp!!!

-----------------------------------

Four out of five gynecologists recommend calling Ebo a girl.

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Sunday, January 23, 2005 1:30 PM

Was it blue and feathery? That's Rat.

Mal-licious

Co-Holder of the Red Bell from Hell

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Sunday, January 23, 2005 3:00 PM

Why is he in MY BED!?

-----------------------------------

Four out of five gynecologists recommend calling Ebo a girl.

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Sunday, January 23, 2005 3:07 PM

He forgot your "bed" was under the pool table. He's goin' ta go hide behind the bar and have a Hanks!

-Ratboy

edit- By the way, that's not me in the feather boa! And I think we need to take care of the problem, if ya know what I mean!

2nd edit- The problem being the impostor.

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Sunday, January 23, 2005 3:13 PM

Hey Rat, do you have any Barq's back there, or is that too common for your root beer collection?

Packer fans welcome.
All others tolerated.

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Sunday, January 23, 2005 3:47 PM

I'v got some Barq's, so come on back!

-Ratboy

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Sunday, January 23, 2005 4:08 PM

CAGEYBEE

*swings into the treehouse on her new tire swing, and the Pillow KGB gives her as she sails back out the window*

Wheeeee! Anyway, when is this pagent? And if you menfolk refuse dresses slinky and frilly, what will you be wearing?

me

~Mal- "how drunk was i last night?"
~Jayne- "i don't know. i passed out."

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Sunday, January 23, 2005 4:11 PM

Quote:
Originally posted by Rat:
I'v got some Barq's, so come on back!

-Ratboy

Yea, my favorite, thanks!

So how 'bout a game of Tallcard? I don't actually know how to play, but I reckon if Jayne can figure it out then so can I.

Packer fans welcome.
All others tolerated.

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Sunday, January 23, 2005 4:48 PM

*Ebo crawls down from You's shoulders and back under her pool table. She flicks some blue feathers away and digs around in the blankets before she finds her slinky dress.*

Lemmie just change real fast.

*Ebo trots back into a back room and slips into her slip of a dress. She puts make-up on even. All who witness are very impressed.*

Ta-da!

*Ebo twirls in her short black halter-top dress.*

Let the pagent begin!

-----------------------------------

Four out of five gynecologists recommend calling Ebo a girl.

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Sunday, January 23, 2005 5:29 PM

*a slim, tux clad figure slinks across the treehouse common room, twirls, and leans ever so casually on a simple black cane*

Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please...
*the cane slips and twg falls ungracefully to the floor. she jumps up quickly*

Now that I have your attention, let us begin.
This evening we honor our fearless leader Ebo and the esteemed mistresses, KGB and Mal. These incredible women will select the most alluring man in the treehouse. The men will bejudged in three categories: Evening gown, mistress bidding, and knitting.

*waves left hand dramatically toward the hallway*

Without further ado, I present to you "The Mister of the Mistress of the Treehouse Pageant".

*music surges as we go to commercial break*

www.thatweirdgirl.com

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Sunday, January 23, 2005 6:24 PM

Not to worry, Ebo, that's just Rat under the pool table. I already warned him that he was trespassing in your...

Ebo?

What the...?

* Just a moment ago, it seemed, Ebonezer was sitting on The Real Me's shoulders. NOW where was she? Did The Real Me just have a blackout? THAT will teach him to spend the day in Denver! *

* The Real Me notices an attractive young woman twirling around in a slinky dress. She looks somewhat like Ebo, except for... *

* Stunned, The Real Me realizes that it IS Ebo! The Real Me is very impressed. *

Oh, it looks like a party is starting.

* The Real Me hops back into his lawn chair. He invites one of the Rats to take a seat next to his. *

The Real Me

(The Real Me cannot currently receive messages from this site; he is not ignoring you.)

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Sunday, January 23, 2005 7:12 PM

VOTE RAT ON CTP#11

...........................................................................................................commercial advertisement

-Ratboy

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Sunday, January 23, 2005 7:20 PM

We may be able to work out some sort of deal. I'll vote for you in Caption Tightpants if you agree to participate in the pageant. I have a lovely little wine colored dress that you can wear. Unless you want to stick with the feather boa?

Packer fans welcome.
All others tolerated.

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Sunday, January 23, 2005 7:26 PM

I may be a politician but I won't take a bribe!

-Ratboy

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Sunday, January 23, 2005 7:56 PM

Oh well, I thought I'd at least try.

I like your bouncing smiley faces.

Packer fans welcome.
All others tolerated.

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Sunday, January 23, 2005 8:02 PM

Thanks!!

-Ratboy

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Monday, January 24, 2005 3:51 AM

COSMICFUGITIVE

The pageant's starting?!

Need to get ready!! Where's that gorram outfit?!

*CosmicFugitive runs into his room, looking towards the rest of the crowd. He dives through the doorway and falls over his bunk. A hand shoots into the air from behind the bunk as he holds up his custom made dress in victory.*

"Yes!"

*CosmicFugitive's arm slumps onto the bunk.*

"...Ow!..How do I get up?"

[GIF]

[/GIF]

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Monday, January 24, 2005 10:12 AM

Awwww! Hey, everyone! We will need to go into CosmicFugitive's room to see his dress. That way, he doesn't have to extricate himself from behind his bunk. Hmmm. That will, however, hamper his Mister-ing efforts somewhat, I would imagine.

Mal-licious

Co-Holder of the Red Bell from Hell

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Monday, January 24, 2005 1:28 PM

doo doo doo doo, doo-doo, do-wah! It doesn't matter...

*twg heads backstage (down the hallway) to extricate CosmicFugitive, gently pulling on the outstretched arm* Come on, help me here. I'm tiny and you're a big strong man. *a low groan escapes from the wall. twg tumbles back onto her bum and finds CF sprawled across her*

Hey, get up. We have a show to do. *brushes lint from CF's dress and tucks a stray bit of hair behind his ear* There, you look great! Listen for you cue. I gotta get back out there before Mr. Jones cuts back from the commercial...
...fresh goes better... Crap! Gotta run!

*running thru the hallway, she trips over her own feet and somersaults onto the stage just as the audience hears the fresh maker!

Welcome back!

www.thatweirdgirl.com

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Monday, January 24, 2005 1:35 PM

We're on TEE-VEE??? And here I am sitting in my judge's chair in sweats and an Eagles shirt! I better go spiff up a bit. Perhaps I should change my hair color.....

Mal-licious

Co-Holder of the Red Bell from Hell

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Monday, January 24, 2005 1:49 PM

We're ON THE AIR?

Huh.

* The Real Me reconsiders whether or not he should participate in this fiasco. *

The Real Me

(The Real Me cannot currently receive messages from this site; he is not ignoring you.)

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Monday, January 24, 2005 3:15 PM

*Ebo continues spinning in her slinky black dress.*

You know in pre-school, i was the all-time record holder for longest time spent spinning. I can do this all day.

-----------------------------------

Four out of five gynecologists recommend calling Ebo a girl.

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Monday, January 24, 2005 5:06 PM

*Has been swimming several days. Spots tree floating in the sky. Considers problem. Drowning = not good. Uses convenient cell, dials up coast guard. Gets wrong number, instead out thwops Sikorsy Sea Dragon cargo hauler. Excellent chopper basket ride, Russian pilot conveniently charges cozen's credit card to its max. Hovering above floating treehouse, 'copter creates hurricanelike conditions. Pilot shoves cozen out. cozen plummets thru and kills a few shiny metal butterflies -sorry! - and feels bad for that, but not as bad as after landing on the pool table.*

Ouch!

*Reaches into backpack, removes gold lame dress bought at Wallmart, nice Chinese slippers, a lifesize inflateable Kaylee doll, and a gallon of Napoleon brandy.*

Brought some crystal wineglasses, too, but they seem to have lost their structural integrity.

Don't know what was worse, emerging from the Wallmart fitting room in that dress, or shaving my legs. Need somebody to inflate the doll.

Am I in time for the show?

Consistency is the hobgoblin of simple minds.

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Monday, January 24, 2005 5:36 PM

*while the camera is focused on Ebo Golem dancing to "Strut", twg leaves to check on the manly girly men*

Hey guys, are you almost ready? Lookin' good CosmicFugitve. SimonWho love what you've done with your eyes. Badger? I could have sworn you were in here, where'd ya go? Cozen, nice to meet ya, there's not much time to get all dolled up. Do you understand how you will be judged? No matter, you'll get the hang of it quick enough.

Did I hear TRM reconsider?

*Ebo Golem, sporting leather and lace, makes one last circuit of the stage as we hear the fade... strut hot. put it out. that's what we want from our men... !applause!*

Thank you Ebo Golem. We're certainly glad she hasn't walked out our door. *chirp, chirp* Hehe, now I know how Whoopi felt.

I'd like to introduce our judges: our lovely and talented fearless leader Ebo *applause* our greatly missed and triumphantly returned KGB *applause* and our Mistress Most High, the creme brulee all of us love, Mmmmalicous *applause*

Ladies would you like to go over some of the things you will be looking for while you're judging the Evening Gown portion of the pageant?

www.thatweirdgirl.com

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Monday, January 24, 2005 6:16 PM

*Rummaging in backpack. 3 items left: Victora's Secret Valentine edible "underwear", with silken meshed center. Very damp, from all the swimming. Uck! The things I do for the sake of a thread. Knitting needles, magic thread. Exchanges underthings beneath Wallmart gold lame dress. Ick. Notices tv camera,hopes the station's in commercials. Prays for something, anything to delay start of pageant, while he knits a chocolate ice-cream creme brule sculpture in the shape of Malcolm Reynolds-with-a-grin-like-he's-smiling-at-Inara pose. Looks for pepsimilk to smother it with.. Pepsimilk?!*

This bribing the judges routine looks like a difficult task, what with the maxed-out credit card.

*Casts woeful glance at crumpled up, uninflated inflatable Kaylee doll.* Things not going so good. The rootbeer guy a judge? I can get rootbeer.

Consistency is the hobgoblin of simple minds.

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Monday, January 24, 2005 6:22 PM

just so you know, twg is not one of the judges. If you offer the others Pepsimilk, you'll very likely loose. They don't like the stuff. if you want my opinion, and you probably don't, you should focus on teh mistress bidding. The other guys have had a lot of practice with that, it's your weak spot.

Anywho, I gotta get back to the regualrly scheduled pageant.

*she turns, tossing her hair oh so dramaticaly over her shoulder and smiles at the camera*

www.thatweirdgirl.com

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Monday, January 24, 2005 6:41 PM

*Ebo twirls her way over to a chair*

Woah. Y'all need to stop jumpin about like that if you expect to get judged.

*She shakes her head, then realzes that that probably didn't help much.*

Anyway I'll be judging on slinkyness, how well you got your legs shaved (although I won't be TOO hard on this, I'm not so good at that my own self), air flow, and - um - talent. Yeah. Talent. I got none of my own so share yours!

Do I get a spiffy sash that says "Honorary Judge Extrodanaire?"

-----------------------------------

Four out of five gynecologists recommend calling Ebo a girl.

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Monday, January 24, 2005 6:46 PM

Quote:
Originally posted by thatweirdgirl:
you should focus on teh mistress bidding.
*she turns, tossing her hair oh so dramaticaly over her shoulder and smiles at the camera*

www.thatweirdgirl.com

Bid y'all g'night.

Trumped. Hopes for Miss Congeniality prize. Begins inflating Kaylee doll, to dance with, on stage.

Consistency is the hobgoblin of simple minds.

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Monday, January 24, 2005 6:52 PM

hey , you're not out yet. you got a lovely dress on and you have the magical knitting stuff. Just focus on the fanning and drink bringing when we get to that portion of the competition. I think you have a shot.

www.thatweirdgirl.com

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Monday, January 24, 2005 7:16 PM

A gallon of brandy not enough? Aaarrg! guess I need more learnin' on how to bribe these womenfolk.

*Wishes the entire treehouse crew would ease off slurping the goods.*

*Nervously eyes stage as pageant begins, while furioulsly knitting "Awesomest Judgestress" onto red velvet sash.*

Consistency is the hobgoblin of simple minds.

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Monday, January 24, 2005 8:14 PM

*montanagirl sits at the bar, bumming Barq's off of Rat and watching the proceedings*

Wow, Cozen's knitting a sash! I'm not a judge or anything, but I think that should count towards talent. (Now let's just hope he knows enough to give it to Mal-licious, otherwise she might bonk him with her scepter.)

Packer fans welcome.
All others tolerated.

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Monday, January 24, 2005 9:05 PM

* Reclining in his lawn chair, The Real Me takes another bite out of his hard lemonade and studies the newcomer carefully. Just who IS this guy? The Real Me checks Cozen's profile. Huh. Not much there. He's brand new. But CLEARLY a formidable opponent. He is well prepared. He has studied us well. Perhaps TOO well... *

* But The Real Me has been around since the days of the "Forgotten Not a Guy/Girl Clubhouse", the sole male survivor of those dark days, when all men were enslaved. NOBODY can "minion" better! *

* The Real Me finishes his hard lemonade and leaps up onto his lawn chair. *

I shall enter this contest!

* The Real Me snaps his fingers. *

Ebo Golem! I require your aid to get into my attire!

* The Ebo Golem moves toward The Real Me. The Real Me grabs one of the Rats... the one still wearing the feather boa. *

I'll need your help too, Rat.

* The three of them head off. *

The Real Me

(The Real Me cannot currently receive messages from this site; he is not ignoring you.)

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Monday, January 24, 2005 9:39 PM

Maybe thats not Rat, maybe thats a flying squirrel!

-Ratboy

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Tuesday, January 25, 2005 1:37 AM

PSYCHICRIVER

Ooh...it's soo intense....

Can I be entertainment for while the judges are deciding?

I can show them my new flying tricks!

PsychicRiver

"Two by two, hands of blue."

"We can take care of each other. I'll knit!"

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Tuesday, January 25, 2005 5:56 AM

* The Real Me pauses on his way to his room. *

Say, is minioning considered a separate event from the talent competition?

The Real Me

(The Real Me cannot currently receive messages from this site; he is not ignoring you.)

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Tuesday, January 25, 2005 10:18 AM

Personally, I will be giving high marks for:

1) Quality of palm frond fanning--rapidly enough to cool, yet gentle so as to not muss-up the hair. Not too close, yet not too far away either.
2) Quantity of drinks mixed. Ooops! Did I say "quantity?" I meant QUALITY! Of course. Who knows how to make a French Martini? Purple Slurpee? Lynchburg Lemonade?
3) Quality of fawning. TRM, you've got some competition in Cozen. Jefe--not so much. And CosmicFugitive appears to be a bit clutzy.
4) I will also take into account the level of flattery and adoration. Not just for me either. (I know! GASP!) The other two judges deserve almost as much as me. The....adeptness...of the compliments will be strongly considered.
5) The evening gown and talent competitions are not the only ones either! I have just decided to add the swimsuit competition. AND you must walk gracefully in high-heels.
6) The degree of difficulty for each aspect of what I am judging will also be factored in.

Are we ready to start yet?

Mal-licious

Co-Holder of the Red Bell from Hell

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Tuesday, January 25, 2005 11:54 AM

...they weren't beagles at all.

*laughter and applause*

Now, I have the pleasure to introduce an incredible talent to entertain you while the contestants prepare for the swimsuit challenge. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you...PsychicRiver!

*applause fades as a lone mellow horn echoes in the treehoue. a spotlight shines on a figure floating above the stage floor*

www.thatweirdgirl.com

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Tuesday, January 25, 2005 1:32 PM

cozen's busy day.

*Learns girl in slinky black dress is judge ebonezer! Finds her slumped in chair, eyes spinning spinning spinning. Very carefully drapes Awesomest Judgestress knitted sash around her shoulders. From beneath his dress he removes chain with shiny Kennedy half-dollar, waves it rythmically in front of ebonezer's vision, softly chanting "you will cast all your votes for cozen". Though she's successfully hypnotized, he places a pint of brandy in her hand, just to be sure.*

*Tracks down KGB, reclining by the bar. Spends two hours whispering sweet nothings, quoting bad romantic poetry and trying to massage the kinks from her knotted shoulders. TV crew member informs him he's been wooing a Pillow Me. cozen considers diving off the floating treehouse to drown in the sea below.*

*Doesn't give up. Spies palm frond poking out from the wreckage of the pool table. Knits frond to a hockey stick, spends three hours, between stage appearances, standing exactly 3.5 feet from judge mal-icious and waving the frond in precise 35 degree arcs at a rate of 18 waves per minute.*

*When excused, cozen shaves chest

and orders in a large list of various boozy items, having first extended his credit card limit. Sikorsky arrives,chopping up 150 butterfly thingies -sorry!- and dropping package which lands on montanagirl's lap, causing some serious bruising -sorry!-. Runs away with package, almost all of which has shattered on impact, except for a package of cherry koolaid, a bottle of Bacardi rum, and a gallon of Muscovaia vodka.*

*Re-approaches mal-icious.* On bended knee patiently awaits the half hour required to gain the worthiness of her attention. Offers quart jug.* "Oh most esteemed Queen Of Threads, please accept from this most unworthy cur a vile, yet heartfelt offering. For, with graceless ineptitude, I have destroyed the ingredients of many de-licious concoctions, yet feel you may wish, if only to humiliate me by boozy batism, to accept my pitiful gift." *Hands over jug of Love Potion #9.* "Oh, and here's the knitted grinning Mal sculpture, sans pepsimilk."

*cozen runs off, in search of a spiffing swimsuit*

Consistency is the hobgoblin of simple minds.

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Tuesday, January 25, 2005 1:38 PM

Quote:
Originally posted by cozen:
he places a pint of brandy in her hand, just to be sure.*

Ahh! no. I should have warned ye, she takes the frozen lemonade. You know, the kind in the little cardbaord tubes on the frozen aisle at the grocer, yellow and black? If the alliance finds out we've been serving her that, we may loose the Pepsimilk Bar.

www.thatweirdgirl.com

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Tuesday, January 25, 2005 1:44 PM

(Mal-Licious scribbles some notes on her judge's official check-scroll. Then continues to observe.)

Mal-licious

Co-Holder of the Red Bell from Hell

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Tuesday, January 25, 2005 1:55 PM

*cellphone chirps*

Yeah?

*Convenient remote secretary, couple paychecks due, says: "Moron. judge mal-icious is in Jefe's harem. You lose that vote, idiot! And you got the beverages all wrong."

(Click!)

*cozen is stunned. Needs help. Spies twg slinking around the treehouse.

"Hi. I need help. Oh, and a pair of bitchin' high heeled shoes, men's size 10 (these chinese slippers don't cut it). Anything you can do? I offer a week of utter devotional servitude."

Consistency is the hobgoblin of simple minds.

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Tuesday, January 25, 2005 2:38 PM