It's My Hill Now

A place for games, jokes and general clean fun and merriment
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Please check any gloominess at the door and come inside where mirth and merriment abound! This is the place for games, stories, jokes, and general hilarity—just keep it clean, please, and remember, no deep, thought-provoking discussions allowed! Host: Heddwen
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Michael C. Page
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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby Michael C. Page » 01 Oct 2014, 01:54

(funnily enough I'm going to have breakfast where they do fry ups. Hmm, egg, black pudding and baked beans this morning, I think)
Michael sends Treegod another telegram from Barbados:

Dear Treegod all is well here - stop. They have wonderful breakfasts in Barbados - stop. Bob the Labrador misses you and wants to play frisbee - stop. If you're free we will send dragons to pick you up - stop.

PS. Tell DaRC he can come too if he wants, but if not CONGRATULATIONS on the HILL over rule - It's your hill now old boy - stop
:grin:
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"If a man does not keep pace with his companions,
perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer.
Let him step to the music he hears,
however measured or far away."
- Thoreau

My harp was sacrificed to the Honorable Snarg.

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MountainGnome
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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby MountainGnome » 01 Oct 2014, 07:26

I approach the base of the hill with a blanket and a picnic basket.

I stop at a safe distance, spread the blanket, and sit down with my picnic basket.

...

You guys have at it. I'm going to sit here and eat my lunch, and enjoy the entertainment. :)

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treegod
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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby treegod » 01 Oct 2014, 07:45

It took a few days to recover from Pwcca Diner's huge breakfast (don't think I'll be repeating that any time soon - I "repeated" it a few times already :sick: ), but I'm back and raring for action.

I stand at the bottom of the hill, near Bsbray and see that he's having difficulty with ants... a lot of them. I go over to help him, collect the whole picnic gear in the blanket and throw it up the hill at DaRC.
DaRC itches... and fidgets... and scratches... and howls... and runs down the hill. The hill's almost mine, except for the ants.

As luck would have it an hungry anteater walks by, which I send up the hill towards the ants. They all get eaten. I walk up to the hill, throw down the picnic back down to Bsbray, along with the anteater for protection.

I stand atop the hill...

That's right, it's mine now. :grin:

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ShadowCat
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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby ShadowCat » 01 Oct 2014, 09:56

Having thouroughly enjoyed the trip to NY, the 5 star hotel (Michael, you might want to extend your creditcardlimit, I emptied the minibar on a daily basis) and all the Broadwayshows, I wander back to Hilda, mindlessly humming showtunes.

To my surprise Treegod has put down his roots atop her again.
I start walking around the perimeter of Hilda and chant a special invocation to a rare, forgotten deity:
"ohm mani chopchop, ohm mani chopchop"

In a flash, deity appears

"Treegod, meet my friend Axegod"

Axegod chops Treegods roots and rolls him from the hill. Before Treegod is transformed into Matchstickgod, he prays for mercy and vows to never again set foot on Hilda again.

I walk up Hilda and start showing her my photo's from my trip. She begins to catch me up on her recent "rocky" love-affairs.
BFF's once more :grin:
Three sounds one should treasure:
the whisper of the wind through the leaves
the songs of one's heart
the callings of the universe

BS13 I BS13 II LI13 SB13 IL14 LI14 SB14 BS15 LI 15
Sacred spaces and places

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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby littlefish » 01 Oct 2014, 20:34

I was overjoyed to see Bsbray arrive with his picnic, having skulked around the hill for days being thoroughly amused, I was starving! ( but not hungry enough foe a Pwcca breakfast, have you seen their suppliers?!)
I hoped Bsbray would swapp some snap for a look through my telescope.
Ooh.......the picnic sailed through the air. Ooh, it sailed back again, anteater saliva covered!
I am crushed, I am hungry, I am angry.

Shadowcat slinks by humming something about Macavity.

Born on a Thursday ,in a storm I call on my good friend Thor. I call for hail, torrential rain and lightening to engulf Hilda, ( as most cats hate water, though I did have one that swam for fun, but then he was called Tarzan)

Thor comes......he comes....... He's not coming, it's the first of the month, Anger Management class.
Where's Loki got to?

Shadowcat, for now, it's still your hill

(Jackie)

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ShadowCat
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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby ShadowCat » 02 Oct 2014, 08:45

Being forwarned I surround myself with those of my brethren that like water and rain: Norwegian Forestcats, Maine Coons, Bengals. Of course I train them to not do their business on Hilda, that would be poor manners. So soon the bottom of the hill is surrounded by a barrier of stink, while cats frolic about, making the hill essentially offlimits to anyone with cat-allergies.

O, and since Loki is a crazy catguy in disguise, he's having tea with me here in case you where wondering.
Three sounds one should treasure:
the whisper of the wind through the leaves
the songs of one's heart
the callings of the universe

BS13 I BS13 II LI13 SB13 IL14 LI14 SB14 BS15 LI 15
Sacred spaces and places

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DaRC
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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby DaRC » 02 Oct 2014, 12:22

DaRC, having plunged into a nearby stream has washed the itchy ants from his pants. Now clean and refreshed his part-hobbit stomach rumbles. He looks up at the Hill and wanders over to the Pwcca Diner for a full on veggie brekkie with a side of black pudding.

As he washed the last bit of pudding down with a nice cuppa builders tea, Loki wanders past and gives him a nod
"Wassail Loki, wassup?"
Loki raises his hand and sotto voce says "See that crazy cat up there?", DaRC nods, "I reckon she'll fall for a similar trick that Freyja did when I liberated the Brisingamen from her neck."
DaRC gives Loki a knowing "Arrrr" and picks up his water flute and pipes for a Knucker. The water dragon appears in a rainbow spray and gives him a knowing look...
"Barbados is it, tropical lunch?"
"Aye, I'll just get me frisbee for Bob. I'll leave Loki to it... it'll only end in tears."
Most dear is fire to the sons of men,
most sweet the sight of the sun;
good is health if one can but keep it,
and to live a life without shame. (Havamal 68)
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minerva5
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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby minerva5 » 03 Oct 2014, 17:21

Leaked emails that Islamic State has set up a base on the hill. U.s President nukes hill. The End.

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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby littlefish » 03 Oct 2014, 18:34

Waking in the shower - Bobby Ewing style- it was something like that, Littlefish is relieved to find nuclear episode all an horrendous nightmare.

Walking to the bottom of the hill she finds her phone call to the RSPCA has taken fruit. Appalled by the mountains of cats scat surrounding the hill, they seize all felines and charge Shadowcat with fouling public spaces.

My hill

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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby minerva5 » 04 Oct 2014, 11:22

It wasn't a dream, you've been referred to Dr.Jung at the Institute. Position as before!
I have now created a hill in L-space all of my very own and I'm not sharing the Dewey address!
Love and hugs ,Queen of the Hill.Evil giggle.

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ShadowCat
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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby ShadowCat » 04 Oct 2014, 17:43

goes off to google "L-space" and "Dewey adress" :oops:
Three sounds one should treasure:
the whisper of the wind through the leaves
the songs of one's heart
the callings of the universe

BS13 I BS13 II LI13 SB13 IL14 LI14 SB14 BS15 LI 15
Sacred spaces and places

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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby minerva5 » 04 Oct 2014, 17:49

Google "Pratchett" as well! :)

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treegod
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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby treegod » 05 Oct 2014, 17:08

Hilda found herself in a quantum contradiction: she was at one a nuked non-hill, and at the same time she had been covered in cats (a quantum contradiction called Hilda's Cats, which means that at once Littlefish has been referred to an institute and has called the RSPCA). But the potential nuking and the amount of potential cat wee had caused her to close her eyes, and until she opens them to see the results, she won't know what state she's in.

Few know, but the Hill here is always the same hill (a quantum hill - it is simultaneously in two places or more at once). Hilda is also in L-space with Minerva5, adding to the quantum confusion.

Upon opening her eyes, Hilda sees a brief moment where she exists in several states and in several places at once. Cat wee, nuclear disaster and L-space all combine. The librarians aren't happy about this and kick the nuclear pile, the hill with cat wee and Littlefish, and the L-space hill out of their quantum probability zone. Minerva5's membership is revoked and she can never return to the library.

Hilda gives the quantum probability a Zen Slap until it behaves itself, and she finds herself outside of L-space, with no radioactive mess, though there is some cat wee to clean up.

't's my hill now. (how quamplicated!)

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minerva5
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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby minerva5 » 06 Oct 2014, 17:03

Sorry but quantum is not operative in L-space so your Hillda stays non-existent.It's a dead cat that doesn't bounce. Ask that nice Mr. Scroedinger!You could rebuild Hillda on the same site in a Billion years thus avoiding fallout then travel back in time with her.... but would you want to make the effort?
I'm still on my hill!

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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby treegod » 06 Oct 2014, 17:17

I walk over to the :shuttle: and give it a :croiss:. In exchange the :latte: moves the :ghug: from underneath the :terra: of :hose:. This allows me to :hop: , which shocks the :sky: so much it has to :hatrack:. Hilda laughs and invites me to stand on her once again. Better three :merlyn: than a :fried: in the :antelope:, that's what I always say.

It's my hill now. :old:

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ShadowCat
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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby ShadowCat » 07 Oct 2014, 07:04

*Calls HG Wells, borrowing his timemachine
*Goes back in time
*Kills Terry Pratchet so this whole confusing Lspace and other things don't exist anymore and never have existed

*Lures Treegod of the hill with a colouringbook and crayons

I reclaim the new hill as my own, and anchor myself to my own magical sword, which only I can wield or move in any way. As long as my sword is in the hill, I rule.

Iz my hill
Three sounds one should treasure:
the whisper of the wind through the leaves
the songs of one's heart
the callings of the universe

BS13 I BS13 II LI13 SB13 IL14 LI14 SB14 BS15 LI 15
Sacred spaces and places

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DaRC
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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby DaRC » 07 Oct 2014, 14:30

:duck: Errm apologies I might have gone a bit overbored....

The Barbadian lifestyle has been comfortable, Michael and DaRC have enjoyed many mohito's whilst topping up their tans and Bob is looking svelte from frisbee chasing through the surf.

One afternoon, whilst the siesta sun shines over a snoozing Michael and his golden Lab', DaRC is wandering through the market looking for something for supper. He notices a new antiques shop, The Bazaar of the Bizarre, upon noticing the picaresque doorway DaRC is cantering across the dusty market square before his brain has quite registered what his body is upto. The place is a palace of nik-naks, brass constructions of indeterminable purpose and rugs, lots and lots of rugs. Interspersed there are various wooden containers of various sizes. Some could loosely be called magazine racks, others tea caddies there were also alien and vaguely obscene wooden objects of indeterminate nature.
Complementing the bizarre shop there was a little man in fantastically bright silks and enormous, curved sinbad-esque slippers who followed him round praising the goods in the shop. DaRC tried to ignore him and ventured further and deeper into the shop, lifting a rug here, peering behind a rug there.

At the back of the shop, just as the bright colours and constant wittering of the shopkeeper were beginning to beguile him, he noticed a movement. A very strange, almost disconcerting movement as if a large wooden container had moved of it's own volition. The shopkeep became panicked, desperately trying to both persuade DaRC to buy something and move him away from the movement at the same time. DaRC whips off the concealing rug to see a large dark trunk, with legs hopping from feet to feet in the background.
DaRC opens the trunk to look inside as, with a shuffle, the Trunk trips him inside and snaps it's lid shut.
Flicking his :where: on he see's a gift receipt
"To DaRC, I hope this trunk called Son-Of-A-Luggage or Soal for short, finds you well. Sheelba and Ningauble."

Which means that derivative fantasy mickey mongerer T. Pratchett must still be alive and Hillda the hill back in all her quantum glory, small but perfectly formed. Just like the previously mentioned Austrian physician's moggy it was time to open the box and find the true king of the Hill.

DaRC had kept a sod of earth from Hillda in his pocket and instructs his Soal to take me to the sodding L-Hill, if baggage could suspiciously squint that was the look the trunk gave him. Fortunately he could sit on his Soal now and enjoyed seeing the luggage tear through time and literary space into a large library with a hill and a Minerva sitting smugly on it. The luggage charged up the hill and knocked Minerva down then through the powers of L-magic seemed to dislocate it's hinges until it could swallow Hillda whole.
DaRC jumped back on the lid as it charged back in time towards the nuked non-hill before barfing the L-Hill in it's spot and swallowing the L-Hill and non-Hill back again.
DaRC is now feeling vaguely quesy but climbs back on for their furore through time and string theory. At this point DaRC is feeling a little stretched as if he's in many concurrent spacetime's just as they arrive at the original Hill. With Shadowcat smugly on top.
The luggage belches and with a little spacetime shimmy barfs out the L-Hill, non-hill over the almost original Hill.
The almost in the hill is a rock...
with a sword in it...
and Shadowcat holding the sword.

The rock rolls down the hill leaving Shadowcat at the entrance to the Pwcca Diner.

DaRC smugly sits on his soal "It's our hill now, well if it'll have us". The Soal folds it's legs and squats on top of the hill. If it were a fantasy trope of a bodyguard it'd be picking it's nails with a very large Broadsword.
Most dear is fire to the sons of men,
most sweet the sight of the sun;
good is health if one can but keep it,
and to live a life without shame. (Havamal 68)
http://gewessiman.blogspot.co.uk Image

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minerva5
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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby minerva5 » 09 Oct 2014, 14:47

As a result of all the preceeding magical activity , the hill has now developed a personality of her own. The hill is still female and feels very put upon. She decides to leave the place and disappear until treegod apologises for exploiting her and using her .She goes into L-space via her multi-dimensional wormhole and lives happily ever after with Minerva5.

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treegod
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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby treegod » 09 Oct 2014, 16:35

Hilda's been a person for a while now (pg 1?), and we've known each other all that time. She also has a sense of humour, so as soon as she gets to the other end of the wormhole, she ditches Minerva5 in some unknown universe and comes straight back, closing the wormhole behind her. And there I am, waiting for her just outside Pwcca's Diner, bacon butty in hand.
"What up, Hilly?"
"DON'T call me that, puny human."
"Er... so sorry, don't crush me."
Laughing, she says, "Just joking."
I swivel my eyes, then grin.
"Now you can tell me all about your trip though the wormhole and L-space."

'tsmy hill now.

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ShadowCat
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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby ShadowCat » 10 Oct 2014, 07:24

After DaRC left me in front of Pwcca's Diner I thought: might as well apply for a kitchenjob for a while. As luck would have it, I was put in charge of the Bacon Butty's, making them with extra lard, just as Treegod likes them. In my element, I've been grillin' and fryin' away, noticing Hilda popping out with Minerva, and coming back alone. While Treegod was chatting with Hilda I brought him his butty. The fool didn't even recognise me. But before long he will remember me, so I go back in, clean up my station, tell the boss I'm quiting and go out with a pint o' mead in hand to watch the spectacle.

Treegod sits on Hilda, munchin' away happily...
nothing happens...
nothing happens...

...


....


...........yawn......






But suddenly Treegod jumps up, runs around on Hilda in a panic, finds the lonely tree on top, pulls down his breaches and is just in time to let the Bacon Butty of Doom pass through. Lard mixed with a generous tripple dose of "McRhydd's extra strength castoroil, will give even your pet dragon a run for his money" seems to have effect at last.

Ofcourse Hilda, a proper lady, doesn't take kindly to this befoulement (I always thought my cats to go off the hill at least). She pushes out the treeroots, knocking Treegod out and down the hill, in a avalance of soiled soil.

I walk back, confess to Hilda what I did and why I did it: BFF's help rid eachother of leaching guys that only want to get on top of hem. So, here we are, BFF's as always.

And just to make sure we stay that way I chant the lullaby I created while working at the Diner, weaving a cloud of sleepiness that automatically sends anyone, no matter where they are, in a perpetual dreamless sleep the first moment they think of Hilda. Now, Hilda, lets have a tea and chat.

BFF's again...
Three sounds one should treasure:
the whisper of the wind through the leaves
the songs of one's heart
the callings of the universe

BS13 I BS13 II LI13 SB13 IL14 LI14 SB14 BS15 LI 15
Sacred spaces and places


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