NationStates Jolt Archive

((OOC: For the record, this is a parody of an older, similar thread. Nathicana ought to recall this thread's inspiration quite well. EDIT: And credit Kaenei with the original. I need to find a link to that...))

The commerical finds its way to the television screens of countless hoardes, depicting a sharply-dressed, slightly balding man. Beside him in a glass display box is what appears to be some sort of black and red teddy (http://www.fredericks.com/images/4/42547_69_itm_a_3600.jpg) (not the bear kind). The camera lingers for a long moment on the lingerie before returning to the man.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" He begins with a flourish and a wink to the camera. "But mostly the gentlemen, I wager."

He indicates the glass box and its contents. "I have some truly rare goods for auction today! An item so rare, any serious collector of Leading Ladies of the World memorabilia will want this!"

The camera pans back over to the garment as the guy continues. "Rarer than the panties of the Dread Lady Nathicana by an order of magnitude! The Nekoa Bay Auction House had to go to considerable lengths just to acquire this piece!" There is a pause for dramatic effect. "The lingerie of Lady Shogun Eternal under the Wings of Chaos! I present to you, valued customers, Firefury Amahira's underwear!"

A brief graphic of the reploid queen (http://rpstudios.ian-justman.com/junk/CGgoods/pissyqueenie.JPG) is displayed on the screen as the auctioneer explains further. "You might ask yourself- what does an armored reploid with no feminine figure whatsoever need lingerie for? Well that's a story in itself!"

Contact information for placing bids displays at the bottom of the screen as he explains. "It's well known that Firefury enjoys an odd range of activities. This underwear was part of a game of "Truth or Dare" among her closest friends! According to our sources, she was "dared" to put this fine piece of lingerie on, and did so. We could not obtain pictures of the event (but we'd sell them if we did!), but through a great deal of effort were able to obtain the underwear and bring it to you! Place your bids today before this rare collectible is GONE forever!"

The commercial ends with a long look at the glass box containing the lingerie, the bidding information displayed on screen.

OOC: *Raises an eyebrow* Quite interesting.

Petrovich Kolani, the leader of Mirfak, watches the commercial with bemusement. "Those look like my panties..." he says.
"Excuse me?" replies his aide, startling him.
"Dammit Johnson, don't sneak up on me like that! I said hose book Mike my... mantis. Now get out of here, or I'll execute you alongside those damn reform protesters!"

Hmm, now where did I see that ... oh, yes ...

... here ... (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=6139419&postcount=37)

Captain Timofeyev Bondayehr looks over at the screen in a TYCS/member nation military lounge on Valhalla station and sighs deeply. So deeply that it sounds like he should be about to fall over unconscious from a sudden drop of oxygen in his bloodstream. Excusing himself from his Sakkran friends for a moment, he makes a quick trip to the local copy center after snagging a telecom directory along the way.

* - * - *

The fax machine at the address advertised beeps, then prints out what appears to be a photocopy of a fist with middle finger extended, a bright white hole on a black background as if the lid were left open while this was done. In the black portion, written in white pen (probably a correction solution marker), is the legend: "Not funny. Love, The White Knight."

CEO Kargaah looks at the advertisement, and laughs a deep, throaty laugh in a low volume. "Ah, a chance for redemption. I may have been foiled by the thrice-cursed White Knight before, but this time I will be victorious!" He reaches into his desk, and pulls out an over-sized fake moustache. He places it onto his upper jaw, and begins twirling the ends of it. "Nyah ya ha ha ha!"

He presses the comm to summon his aide, who enters the CEO's office and does a double-take. "Uhmmmm...sir? How did you grow a moustache?"

"Never mind that!" He points at the ad still running until it comes to the shot of the lingerie once more. "Get me those frilly unmentionables."

Imperial Palace, Arpia - Reploid Productions

Few things exist that can stop Firefury Amahira dead in her tracks. Through the experiances of long life, she has gained an odd sort of equilibrium with the world, and it is not often that something surprises her to the point of just stopping in that moment of stunned "What?".

This was one of those things.

"... That thing is mine?" The reploid who's apparent undergarment is on auction blinks confusedly at her TV. "... How the hell did that thing wind up... there?" Baffled, the reploid thinks back, quickly recalling the Truth or Dare game in question.

"Hey, Wingleader, truth or dare?"

"Hell, dare!"

"I dare you then, oh mighty Lady Shogun, to put THIS on!"

"... You cannot be serious. Hello! Armor! Reploid physique! GIANT METAL FEET!"

"I am serious! Or is the Wingleader of the 337th and leader of the Shogunate a chicken?"

".... Oh fine, gimme that stupid piece of fabric. Honestly, what is it with your people and skanky undergarments?! I'm not even human for Shimeki's sake!"

"Good thing that one ties shut in the back..."

"... I can't believe she accepted the dare."

"GYAAAARGH! Get on you stupid sleazy useless bloody piece of Goddess-damned scrap of something that allegedly passes for clothing!!"

".... Somebody on the cleaning staff is getting fired." Firefury decides, quickly figuring the most likely route the undergarment took from the palace to the Nekoa Bay Auction House. "Honestly, some people will hawk anything for a little cash."

A short, indefinably ugly man stretches out his legs before reaching for the glass of scotch he'd just poured for himself. Allowing himself a brief moment of respite is a welcome relief, and he intends to use it to watch the idiot box and take his mind off the hook, figuratively speaking.

"You might ask yourself- what does an armored reploid with no feminine figure whatsoever need lingerie for? Well that's a story in itself!"

He blinks and stares at the television screen. Then he shakes his head. Oh no. No no no no no. The last time I participated in that, I ultimately ended up getting shot and grumbled at by a kid still wet behind the ears.

He reaches for the remote to change the channel, then stops.

On the other hand, Carlos' birthday is coming up...

He sighs and picks up the phone, instead. "Alex? Tune your tv to channel 78. Yeah. Got it? Send one of our people to bid on this discretely. I suggest going through Callas."

He pauses to stare at the screen a moment longer before it registers that his subordinate had asked him a question. This is silly. I think I need a vacation.

"Hmm? Oh, cap it at twenty million. No need to get crazy, I suppose. Yeah, g'night."

He sets the phone back down and reaches for his remote. If Nath doesn't strip the flesh from my bones for this, Amahira will. Oh well, I need the exercise.

**************************
http://www.pwfc.org/images/gallery/smtorso3.jpg
**************************

The man from the first auction ad is again shown next to the glass box and infamous underwear, a thick stack of papers in his hands. "Ladies and gents, sentients of all species! Time is running out to bid on these collectibles!"

The camera lingers and zooms in on the frilly unmentionables, contact information displayed at the bottom of the screen. "We've received numerous calls regarding this item, and the current high bid is $276 by one Mr. Dragonis! Will this plucky bidder win the prize? Or will someone come from behind to steal the booty away? Place your bids, folks!"

The ad ends on another shot of the panties, bidding information across the bottom of the screen, the current high bid in the upper left corner.

Imperial Palace, Arpia - Reploid Productions

"... At least they only said 'Mr. Dragonis'. I'd hate for somebody to get the wrong idea about this affair." Tsume Dragonis watches the television, calculator in hand.

Kargaah's aide looks over the contact details. If a Sakkran could sweat, he'd be sweating bullets from his upper lip. But they can't. So he doesn't.

Regardless, the contact is made and the bid is placed.

I hereby place the bid for $300 in the name of corporation and country.

Mr. Scalebutt

The bid is sent, and the aide awaits the news.

"Do you have any idea why the Boss wants us to bid on stolen robotic women's lingerie?"

"No. Do you really want the Boss finding out that you asked?"

"Point. Bidding on women's underwear it is."

We tender a bid of $325 for our anonymous client.

Mr. Black

The Foreign Ministry of the Five Civilized Nations tenders a bid of US$350 for an anonymous client.

~Foreign Minister Zhong Da

Sitting back in his easy chair and sipping on a Margarita, flipping through channels in the middle of the night the Protectorate of Henrytopia is suffering from insomnia again..

"Those damn pills never work and this bed is simply awful, I must remember to replace it first thing in the morning." *click*
"Hey now, what is this we have here?!" A message scrolls across the bottom of the screen.. its an auction.
"What have we here? Are those what I think they are?"
Another camera angle, he lets out a chuckle and presses a button on the side of his easy chair..

"You rang sir?" His aide, quite used to receiving summons in the middle of the night from The Protectorate experiencing his bouts of insomnia, was not surprised at the call. Usually he would find some ridiculous item on an infomercial or even one of those shopping channels and want it.. he did as he was told, he would order it using an assumed identity to keep the news hounds at bay.

"I need you to come to my quarters, I have found something that I fancy adding to my collection.."

"As you wish, I will be there in a moment." wondering what it was this time.. "Not another ab crunch device." he muttered under his breath as he made his way up the stairs.

+++ Bob Smith from The Protectorate of Henrytopia bids one thousand dollars.. +++

Still glued to the television, seemingly entranced by the lingere worn once by a robot..

"Ahhh yes, things are going swimmingly.."

The Foreign Ministry of the Five Civilized Nations tenders a bid of US$2000 for an anonymous client.

~Foreign Minister Zhong Da

"I don't care what it costs, sell the countryside estate if you must but get me those panties!"

"As you wish sir.." his humble servant bowed and exited with the slightest hint of a snicker as he walked the hallway to the ministerial office.. "This is rich.."

-- an unnamed source within Winters End would like to tender an offer of $3500 USD for the lingere

"Fredrick!!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.. "Get in here!!"

"Yes sir?" he rushed up the stairs once more. (I must remember to slip him a mickey on nights he gets like this..) he said to himself.

Why am I not winning this auction? Do you not understand how much I want that lingere? Fredrick, do I need to stress how much I want that lingere??
His gaze spoke volumes..

"I will take care of the matter sir." as he turned he heard him chide him once more.

"See that it happens Fredrick."

"Yes Sir." he walked away hastily and made a phone call.

+++ Bob Smith from The Protectorate of Henrytopia increases his bid to five thousand dollars.. +++

"They bumped it up how much?"

"To a cool grand, two bids after ours."

"Are these people insane?"

"I bet you they go into the millions within an hour."

"Nobody is that stupid. It's a bet."

We raise our bid to five thousand and fifty dollars for our anonymous client.

Mr. Silver

CEO Kargaah, still twirling his waxy black fake moustache, rambles on insanely. "You must pay the rent! Mwah ha ha haha! How's that auction looking?" His aide steps into his office and shuts the heavy doors.

"You are being outbid, sir. Current total shows five thousand fifty."

"Unacceptable! Tender a bid for that, plus 5 dollars. And throw in a set of fine silverware!"

The aide looks quizically for a moment. "Yes, sir."

Kargaah looks out his panoramic window, and puts his arms behind his head. "The game is a foot.....what an odd saying. How can a game be a foot?"

********************

In the name of corporation and country, we tender a bid of 5,055$ and a set of fine silverware.

Mr. Scalebutt

"Merciful father if the Protectorate sees this he will have my hide.." A fine bead of sweat began to form on his brow.
"Why didn't I become a lawyer like mum wanted me to?" He quietly picked up the phone and dialed the all too familiar number once again.. whispering so no one would hear him.

+++ Bob Smith from The Protectorate of Henrytopia increases his bid to five thousand eighty dollars and seventy three cents. +++

OOC: It's good to see that some traditions live on! ;)

“WHAT!?!”

“I’m sorry, sir… They’ve upped the bid to $5,080.73.”

“Is this a joke!?!”

“I’m afraid not, sir.”

The Foreign Ministry of the Five Civilized Nations tenders a bid of US$7500 for an anonymous client.

~Foreign Minister Zhong Da

Governor's Villa, New Pegasii City - Aquamarine

"It's up to what?!" Tsume Dragonis mouths a few choice phrases he's learned from Firefury. "The things I do for that orange idiot. So much for my holiday bonus."

**********************************
Mr. Dragonis would like to up his bid to US$8,000
~Mr. Dragonis's secretary

O_o
Rave: Nothing of mine better be on there...

Tiara: actually there is a pretty good chance of that...you do have stalkers.
Someone will probably have something of yours....

Rave: O_o

"Yes, yes.. I am serious. Look, The Protectorate is having dinner and has not had a chance to watch the auction as of late. I assured him I would not fail so make the offer already."

+++ Bob Smith from The Protectorate of Henrytopia increases his bid to eight thousand fifty three dollars. +++

Gregor eyes Tarvi. Tarvi eyes Gregor. Gregor, remembering the after-effects of the last time he jokingly bid on a set of panties, watches the screen as bids get increasingly higher before slowly saying, "Soooooo..."

"No."

"But think of how funny it would be to-"

"No."

"Oh, fine. We wouldn't win anyways, I supp- Wait, what's that."

Tarvi looks at Gregor suspiciously. "What's what?"

"It looks like an Ingolfson just bid."

This draws the other man's attention. "Which one?"

"At two, no, three of them," Gregor replies, shaking his head. "I always knew they were a bit too interested in their little toys, but I had no idea they were this perverted."

"Dear god. Is that the Mastercrafter herself?" Tarvi remarks, looking over Gregor's shoulder. "That's disgusting. She's what, eighty-something? You don't think she wants to wear it herself, do you?"

"I don't know, but she's bumped up the bid."

=====

{Public Comms RELAY IngolfTech Headquarters -> CIEED Public Network -> YUTLINK -> Arpia Public Network}
x Lady Svetlana Ingolfson (CetaTechEngDir, IUoCetaganda)
o Nekoa Bay Auction House

I bid 10,000 US$.

Lady Ingolfson
Mastercrafter

"Fredricccccck!!!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, it seemed like the walls would fall apart.

"Coming sir.." - Oh God no.. as he made his way up the stairs he thought to himself, we've been outbid again?

"I'm not happy Fredrick!!!"

"Stephen, get the intelligence services working on this, I want to know the names of the major players in this auction and I want them now! Do not disappoint me.."

"Yes sir, as you wish.."

He snapped a salute, turned crisply on his heels and made his way out the door. On the way to his office he thought to himself, 'this is going to be a long night'..

+++ Bob Smith from The Protectorate of Henrytopia increases his bid to ten thousand fifty dollars. +++

"Hah! I won the bet."

"Okay, it's taking more than an hour. But they'll still get there."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because of our bidding cap."

"I don't get it. He can afford more than that."

"Yes, but he's not as insane as they are."

"Doesn't that imply he's still insane?"

"You really are looking for a bullet, aren't you?"

"Just make the damned bid."

We increase our bid to ten thousand and fifty-five dollars for our anonymous client.

-Mr. Black

"What? You want to submit a bid?"

"Yes... it's hardly ever these things come up for auction..."

"Whatever for? You have no use for it!"

"Oh, I do, Ha~e*. Just do it."

--The Football Association of Liverpool England would like to tender a bid of $11 000 for this item.
-Ha~e Hangila, FALE Director of National Football Affairs--

The Hack tenders a bid of one (1) bottle of Coke, in the olde fashioned green bottle. It's really nice. Much nicer than filthy currency.

Isn't it?

- Dargan Zaraad, Office of Unofficial Official Statements
The Semi-Autonomous Technocratic Oligarchy of the Most Glorious Hack

"What!? A bottle of Coke, you say?"

"Yes, Paul. The old green type."

"Well, Ha~e, do we have any of them"

"I'm afraid not."

"Well, come up with something good."

"All right."

--The Football Association of Liverpool England would like to bid the equivalent value of whatever the highest bid currently is, plus ten dollars.--

Governor's Villa, New Pegasii City - Aquamarine

Tsume cringes, monitoring the auction's progress while attending to his duties. "I may have to bow out before much longer."

*******************
Mr. Dragonis would like to up his bid to US$20,000
~Mr. Dragonis' secretary

Monitoring an underwear auction can be difficult. Just ask the now-bald (from pulling his hair out) Ha~e Hangila.

"Paul..."

"Good gosh, whatever happened to your hair!?"

"Never mind that. Are you sure you want to keep going?"

"Why? Has there been a new bid?"

"You wouldn't believe how much people would spend on buying lingerie."

"What's the highest bid right now?"

"It's twenty thousand dollars, Paul."

"Hrm. Wait a while. Bid 30 grand when the highest bid hits 25."

"Okay."

"Well that didn't work. Hmm..."


The Hack will also add fifteen (15) cases of 5w40 motor oil for the auctioneer to use as a bribe for Queen Firefury to keep her from killing them over this auction. This is in addition to the the one (1) bottle of Coke in the olde thyme green bottle.

- Dargan Zaraad, Office of Unofficial Official Statements
The Semi-Autonomous Technocratic Oligarchy of the Most Glorious Hack

As President and Queen Lerathen of Liebermonk saw the rediculous ad she could do nothing but burst out laughing.

"You got to be kidding me! They sell WHAT on TV now!?!? That poor lady, I would hate it if my underwear ended up on there." After pressing a button on her desk, "James, I would like to do a favor for another lady-leader. Go to channell 78 and bid on those underwear, and continue adding two thousand to the highest bid, which puts us at $22,000 USD at the moment. Don't worry about the books, I'll pay for this myself."

James in his desk could not believe what he just heard, but he wanted to follow orders. He turned his television to channell 78, and could not help but burst out laughing when he saw what it really was... After his laughter had calmed, he began placing his President and Queen's bids.

He sat there with bloodshot eyes and dark circles that looked like he was on the losing end of a bar brawl.. but he wasn't. He was the Protectorate and he had spent the last 24 hours obsessing over something ridiculous. As he sat in front of the television, glued to the information he saw in front of him, he seemed mesmerized. He didn't even look away for a moment as he reached behind him searching for his drink.

"I'll get you another sir." his faithful aide told him as he picked up the near empty glass and walked to the back of the room to where his top adviser and long-time friend, Markus stood.

"You are telling me he has been at this since last night Fredrick?" Markus asked.

"He has a dreadful insomnia, he was watching the tele and happened upon this and became obsessed. I have been bidding on his behalf since then I am afraid."

"Fredrick!! Why am I not winning?!?" the Protectorate yelled.

"Right away sir, I will take care of it right away."

"I think he's finally cracked Fredrick." Markus muttered.

He stared at the television.. giggling, laughing.
"Soon they will be mine, all mine!"

+++ For the sanity of the Protectorate, Bob Smith from The Protectorate of Henrytopia tenders a bid of fifty thousand dollars. $50,000.00 +++

"What did I tell you?"

"They're not up to a million yet, though."

"Look at the way they're jumping. They will be. Oh yes, they will be."

We raise our bid to fifty-one thousand dollars.

Mr. Silver

As they watched now from the command center, the auction was now being broadcast live on the big screens. Markus had given the staff an unexpected day off so he sat alone, watching and wondering why a set of underwear obsessed his long-time time friend so much.

"I hope the newshounds never find out about this.." he said to himself as he reclined back in the command chair and sipped on his coffee. He reached over and picked up the phone and dialed the number Fredrick had given him. "Yes, that is correct.. fifty two thousand." *click*

+++ John Adams raises the bid once more.. fifty two thousand dollars. +++

"BUGGER!"

The Foreign Ministry of the Five Civilized Nations bids $100,000 for an anonymous client.

~Zhong Da, the Foreign Minister

The Collector simply smiled, and opened a direct feed to the auction house. His message was simple.

"We, the Collectors Guild of Gawdly, offer FIVE million dollars per item of unmentionables, with a bonus payment of five million if the collection is complete. The funds are ready to be wired. This offer is limited, and will expire in 24 hours."

Dondel Worthington
Chief Collector
Gawdly

The Protectorate took one look at the updated auction bid, mumbled and fainted..

"Frak!" was the curse from Fredrick. Now what the hell am I supposed to do? The Protectorate is on an insomnia and Margarita induced bender and now he faints? He thought to himself then muttered.. "I hate this job.." with that, he walked out of the room and closed the door behind him and went to the telephone in the hallway table.
"He is on his own Markus, I am not going to be responsible for bidding over ten million dollars for ladies panties."

"They bid how much?" came the incredulous response from the scarred man from behind the desk.

"Did I stutter? Five million. With a five million bonus if the supposed 'collection' is complete," the younger man said, looking mildly amused.

"What a pack of raving idiots. What sort of collector pays more than he needs to get the goods? Bad business that. No sense, either. No style. No flair," the first man muttered, lighting up his usual clove cigarette and shaking his head.

The Arabic-looking man grins broadly. "No brains?"

"That too. Collection? There is no bloody collection, only one piece, the gits. No idea what the hell grouping they think they're gonna get, but ten million for a piece o' satin and lace that's likely been stretched all outta shape after Queenie managed to get the damn thing on, is ... is ..." he gestures, trying to come up with a proper analogy.

"Bah. It's like going to a hooker for some wild mind-blowing kinky sex and then paying ten times her usual going rate for some quiet no-touchie conversation instead."

"So," the younger man says, glancing idly in the direction of the room where the auction coverage was playing.

"No. Not even to make those idiots pay more. No," the other growls, clove-scented smoke writhing slowly around his head.

"But Jas--"

"No, Maz. Out. Right damn now."

The telegrams and emails were flowing in, many of which were censored automatically for abusive content. The Collector smiled...he was used to this treatment. Unhappy amateurs upset that their bid had been blown out of the water was part of the burden he bore, as his job was to collect, and he did his job very well. His boss payed him too much for failure to be an option.

Though THIS particular collection surprised him...and if they indeed eventually won the bidding, the boss's orders were to return the "dainties" to their original owners in an unmarked package. Strange, but then again, no one ever accused Darius Steele of sanity before.

"HOW much?" Kargaah's fake moustache drops off at his disbelief.

"Five million at last count, sir." His aide looks over his datapad, just to make sure of the number.

"Is there some manner of gold sewn into those frillys? Sexual favors expected? What in the Void would make someone pay that much......unless they're a total freak for undies. Hmmm...." A long beat passes with Kargaah looking about his office.

"I don't suppose we have any panties around here, do we? I could use a new vacation home."

A howl of glee erupts from the individual sporting the nom de guerre of Mr. Black. "See? See? I told you! Complete and utter insanity."

"No question, some people have no concept of economics, that's for sure."

"I bet you he bids into the billions."

"No bet."

"Aw."

On authority of our anonymous client, we raise our bid to five million and one.

Mr. Black

"They what!?!"

"Yes sir..."

"Five million and one... By the gods above, offer ten million."

The Foreign Ministry of the Five Civilized Nations bids $10 million for an anonymous client.

~Zhong Da, the Foreign Minister

Il Sultano looks blandly at the television screen, a half-expired Treasurer hanging from his lips and still smoking out of the glowing end. Rolling his eyes--a gesture not visible behind the huge dark plastic sunglasses that were either molded to his face or his face has grown around--he flips through a magazine he produces through a front, The Most Expensive of Anything Ever. Checking the price of the current unmentionables with the indexed value of the most expensive matched set in recorded history. "Bah," he mutters to himself, "too cheap for me."

Broken, dejected, a shell of a man he once was.. the Protectorate sat in his easy chair sipping on a watered down Margarita contemplating his next move. Frozen, he watched the screen as the numbers increased by massive amounts..

"I've lost it, haven't I Fredrick?"

"No sir, we will continue to fight for it. We can still bid if you would like, but it will become much more difficult to explain to the treasury and the people what the necessity of such an item is to the nation?"

"Yes, I see it now, you always make things much more clear at times like this. You may leave now."

"Yes sir." and he departed, leaving the Protectorate sitting in his easy chair by the dim light of the television.

The Collector smiled yet again, this one with a tint of cruelty. These...chidren...were playing in an arena that was much to big for them. He was a professional, and knew how to win this particular game. Punching the button on his intercom, he barked at his assistant.

"Let the boss know the status of these golden thongs, and get authorization to napalm the bidding."

He sat back, and watched the bids go higher, sipping his green tea peacefully. Less than a minute passed before his red line rang, the call coming from Steele himself. He picked up the receiver, and awaited the storm.

"Were my instructions unclear, Dondel? I want those panties, at all costs! Divert whatever funding is necessary, and make it happen. Don't bother me again until you have that underwear in your possession."

Sighing, he leaned back in his chair, staring at the open space in his latest telegram. He tapped in a few numbers, then sent the email.

"The Collectors would like to revise their bid to Twenty-Five (25) Million per unmentionable, with the complete collection bonus being raised to Ten (10) Million. We are also adding a Five (5) Million bonus for the auctioneer, and a Ten (10) Million dollar donation to the "Save the Thong" fund of your choice.

As always, our offer is time sensitive."

Dondel Worthington
Chief Collector
Gawdly

"What!?! Some stupid collector dares to compete with us!?!"

"Yes sir."

"The time has come to damn him to the tenth level of hell that he belongs in. Increase our offer to 100 million."

The Foreign Ministry of the Five Civilized Nations bids $100 million for an anonymous client.

~Zhong Da, the Foreign Minister

"Surely we can sell the air force, can't we Fredrick?" he asked his trusted aide, almost in a whimper. You could see it in his face, he was like a little boy who could not afford to buy a candy bar at the store.

"No sir, the opportunity has gone. We tried our best but I fear the power wielded by this undergarment is much larger than we could have anticipated.. now drink your hot cocoa and take your Valium and it will be all right in the morning."

"Yep. It's official, alright. Sanity and a grasp o' reality fled this auction. No idea on how to place bets, no concept on how it works ... Jesus, don't they have anything better to do with their money than flash it around and dickfence over who's gonna be top dog?" Jas says with utter incredulity.

Mazar shrugs helplessly in response. "Well ... compensation I suppose takes many forms ..."

Jas snorts derisively, letting out a stream of smoke through his notstrils. "Must be nearly non-existant the way they're wanking off to all this, using hundred-thou bills as tissue even. I swear, too many bastards with more money than they can responsibly handle involved here. And I think I know just how to humble 'em."

The younger man arches a brow at that, seeing the wheels turning as Jas scowls, not once removing the cigarette from his lips. Noting the expression, the Black Companies Commander shifts the smoke to the other side of his mouth, sitting forward a bit. "You pondering what I'm pondering?" he asks wryly.

The young Arab just smiles broadly, and nods.

Governor's Villa, New Pegasii City - Aquamarine

Tsume feels his toothy jaw nearly come unhinged as he checks up on the auction. "One-hundred-MILLION?!" The mechanical dragon gapes. "I don't care WHO's panties they were, nobody's underwear is worth that much!"

The black drake paces, talons clicking on the tiled floor. "One-hundred-million... you could spend that sort of money on something productive! Who has the sort of money to waste on a cheap piece of battered lingerie?!"

Tsume pauses in his pacing. "Oh well. I tried to get 'em back, but that's way too rich for my salary."

"Hmmmm...a gambling man." mused Worthington as he saw the bid top 100 million. Punching some keys, he did a quick calculation and assessed his budgetary restrictions, of which their were virtually none. He knew that the Zhong-meister from 5CN was probably just trying to boost the bid, most likely at the behest of the auctioneers themselves. It was an old ploy, and one that often worked...but Dondel had seen it all. It took him less than 30 seconds to frame his reply.

"In hopes of bringing this sham to a quick and painless end, our final bid for these items is 1 Billion Dollars per dainty piece of lingerie. A complete set bonus of 25 Million will be paid in addition, as well as a personal payout of 1 Million dollars to every employee involved in the auction (not to exceed 100 Million). This offer will be our final one, and expires in 12 hours."

Dondel Worthington
Chief Collector
Gawdly

Nekoa Bay Auction House, Nekoa Bay - Reploid Productions

The balding man from the televised ads stares at the computer busily tallying bids. "I didn't think anyone would seriously want these panties. I mean, geez, a reploid! An armored combat machine with absolutely no female figure whatsoever! And these people are offering what for it?"

"One billion dollars, plus bonuses if we close the auction now." A technician reports.

"Close it now? Rubbish!" The auctioneer scoffs. "What's the present high bid if we don't take the offer?"

"One hundred million, sir."

"Hmm.... we've outsold the Dread Lady's panties by an order of magnitude already, haven't we?"

"It would appear so, sir. People and possibly national governments have a fair bit of money to expend on useless trinkets instead of on national programs and the like."

**********************
Dear Mr. Worthington,
While we appreciate your generous offer, our policy and Shogunate commerce law forbid accepting "closeout offers" on auctions of this variety, and we regrettfully are unable to accept. You are welcome to continue bidding on this item however, and we look forward to handing over these fine underpants to the winner.
~Nekoa Bay Auction House

"Damn this collector!!!"

"Sir, please do calm down... It's just some underwear..."

"Shut up! With it I can finally take over the world!!! MUWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"

"Er... How about not..."

"Do it! Or I'll have your job!"

The Foreign Ministry of the Five Civilized Nations bids $1.5 billion for an anonymous client.

~Zhong Da, the Foreign Minister

"What did I say? Did I call it? I think I did."

"Yes, you did."

"Did what? Let's hear you say it."

"You called it. The pathetic fools bid a billion and more."

"And the very fools I said would do it."

"Yes, you did. Are you finished, now?"

"Of course not."

"So, what are we going to tell the Boss?"

"That we were outbid. We were given our bidding cap, and it went far, far over it. As I knew it would."

"There's gonna be no living with you, is there?"

"I'm sure you'd like to be right so often."

On the instructions of our anonymous client, we formally withdraw from the bidding.

Mr. Black and Mr. Silver

**********************
Dear Mr. Worthington,
While we appreciate your generous offer, our policy and Shogunate commerce law forbid accepting "closeout offers" on auctions of this variety, and we regrettfully are unable to accept. You are welcome to continue bidding on this item however, and we look forward to handing over these fine underpants to the winner.
~Nekoa Bay Auction House

“Well, this won’t do…this won’t do at all.” The small, bespectacled man regarded the missive yet again, aghast that his very generous offer had been rebuked. As the Chief Collector for Darius Steele, Dondel Worthington was used to purchasing strange and obscure items at exhorbitant prices, but things were getting a little bit ridiculous now. One billion dollars for a pair of soiled undergarments, and the offer had been refused nonetheless! Knowing he could go no further without approval at a higher level, he reached towards the red phone on his desk. He noticed that his hand was shaking. A moment after he put the receiver to his ear, he heard Steele’s gruff voice barking out from it.

“This better be good, son…what the frag is it now?”

“Well, sir…it seems our latest offer has been turned down, and I wanted to get authorization before exploring a higher bid.”

Steele’s voice was quiet, deadly with subdued menace.

“…and your problem is?”

“Sir, our last bid was worth 1.3 BILLION dollars…”

The silence was deafening. Worthington tried to remember to breathe. Steele’s voice was even quieter than before. After a moment that stretched into eternity, the powerful man spoke again.

“I thought I gave you your orders. We cannot let the Dread Lady Nath’s underwear fall into the wrong hands…they must be returned to her…at all cost. After all, a Lady’s honor is at stake, is it not?”
Dondel Worthington blanched, and watch as his life danced before his eyes. Trying to control the rising dread within him, he stuttered hesitantly into the phone.

“Uhhh, sir? There must have been some sort of miscommunication somewhere…heh…uhm, you see, we’re not bidding on the unmentionables of the Lady actually…we’re bidding on Firefury Amahira’s underoo’s….”

“WHO?” bellowed Steele, all pretense of calm gone from his voice.

“Firefury Amahira, sir…she’s a Reploid.” Dondel added helpfully.

Another long silence. “Let me get this straight: you’ve bid over a billion dollars of MY money for an oversized pair of robot panties?” Again with the silence, longer this time.

“Shut it down, if it’s already not too late…oh, and Dondel? Why don’t you come up to my office when that’s done…”

Worthington replaced the receiver, his heart in his throat. He knew his job was safe - he was a very valuable resource – but Steele had other ways of expressing his dissatisfaction. Seeing that the bidding was continuing, he opened up his comm program. Dondel shuddered, and sent out a final message to the auction house.

“Thank-you for the opportunity to bid on such a fine item, but we retract our offer at this time in lieu of the most recent bid from our esteemed competitor, Five Civilised Nations.”

Dondel Worthington
Chief Collector
Gawdly

"What!!!!?"

"Yes, $1.5 billion, Paul."

"Goodness, all the teams in our country spend a combined $2 billion a year only!"

"Do you want to continue bidding?"

"Well, I suppose we could salary-cap the teams awfully low, then collect fines from teams who ignore it."

"Hmmm, great idea!"

--The Football Association of Liverpool England would like to submit a final bid of $2,300,000,000.--

"What?"

"Yes, Paul, the Government has learnt of this."

"What'd they say?"

"They've asked you to either pull out, or lower your bid."

"You've got to be joking. All right, lower it."

--The Football Association of Liverpool England respectfully withdraws it's $2.3 billion bid, and would like to submit a final offer of no more than five hundred dollars ($500) more than the current highest bid.--

"Well, well well. These people just will not stop bidding on this underwear. It's okay, I'll just have to begin placing some bids myself. Take it out of the healthcare fund. Say we payed $1,000 for a saringe or somthing.. no one checks the books that closely. Raise the bid to 2.5 Billion dollars."
James coughed at this bid. "Queen Lerathen, you really wish to bid more!"
"Of course I do, I am a Queen, aren't I. I'm allowed to splurge a little here and there...."

Liebermonk hereby raises the bid to 2.5 Billion Dollars.

Why did 5CN raise his own highest bid? Or did we not notice that Gawdly's 1 billion bid was TURNED DOWN?

Liberties taken.

Reploid Productions

Hiro was a rather simple man. Office job, 50m^2 apartment, usually dark clothing. 178cm tall, somewhat skinny.

He was reowned for his quiet, careful, almost pedantic lifestyle. So, it hadn't been a surprise that many, many people were almost outraged and most certainly shocked when he chose to go on vacation, something he had done before, but never abroad.

And now, Reploid Productions?

But of course, there was a reason for this.

He walked into the store, quietly. It was always a little bit thrilling, doing this... He didn't like it, alas, his desires forced him to.

It didn't take long for him to find what he searched for. And evading the curious looks of the women around him, he walked towards the counter.

"This ones, please."

He smiled, faintly, blushing slightly. So did the woman behind the counter. "That's fifteen credits."

He paid, and left the shop, slowly, with carefully measured steps.

Half an hour later, back in the hotel, he tried them out.

Pink... Oooo... And they fit perfectly! Damn, I should have bought a bra, too...

Indeed, Hiro had some strange fetishes, but then, he wasn't insane enough to spend billions on them, when he could get off for 1/1000000000 the money.

Unlike certain other people.

Floating Fortress Vivace

The Heart often spend her time this way, shuffling through the endless chatter of the satellites high above her; some were silent, while other had voices of their own, but most simply repeated their mindless payload of encoded data. It was a way to pass the time, and cut through the loneliness...

She was deeply bemused by this program, though she understood the basics to a degree; a room full of people seemed to be betting they had more money than each other. It seemed a rather odd game, but she had seen stranger.

What she couldn't understand was what seemed to be the prize. She'd seen people given houses and cars on other things like this, and the little scrap of material seemed, well, fairly worthless.

It was more puzzling still why the prize seemed to appeal to so many men...She thought they'd look ridiculous in it.

Their ways are not ours, clearly. The gestalt sighed softly, and went back to running the last of the system checks.

Sigrun rubbed his eyes as he watched the portal-vision. Nothing was on, nothing except cheesy movies, old game shows, and of course the usual "Buy-now-or-cry-now" infomercials.

"Our latest bid is at two point five billion dollars. Once again, we have here the lovely unmentionable of Firefury Amahira, the black and red lace teddy that has taken many of our loyal watchers racing to write out those checks!"

Sigrun's mouth dropped open in shock. The lembas bread fell from his mouth.

Just then, Arleni walked through the door, "Hey Sigrun, there's a few of the council members here to talk about the yearly budg--"

She too fell silent with shock.

Crackling noises were heard, followed momentarily by the portal-vision exploding.

In the darkness, Sigrun's voice was heard finally, after what seemed to be an eternity of silence.

"I-I don't know what to say."

Arleni broke in, "What in the hell would drive someone to bid ANYTHING for a piece of lingerie with grease skid marks on it??!!"

He shuffled through his papers.

Where are they? Where are they?

Knock...knock...it became more consistent and louder.

A voice, monotonous, but slightly annoyed, "Come in."

"I cannot find anything to give to the auction, Lady Amanda."

"Well, of course silly."

A confused look came across his face, "But what do you mean?"

"How would you sell my underwear, when I do not wear any?"

Nekoa Bay Auction House, Nekoa Bay - Reploid Productions

"Good heavens, it's up to what now?" The auctioneer stares at the rather large number on screen.

"The current high bid is US$2,500,000,000 by somebody from the country of Liebermonk." A technician replies. "Assuming the winner comes through on their bid, the entire auction house staff is getting a hefty holiday bonus this year, isn't it?"

"Even after taxes, we'll have a lot of that money to play with." The auctioneer nods numbly.

"Retiring to the Ring sounds pretty nice right about now, doesn't it?"

"Oh, and with a vacation house in the Dominion!"

"And a personal spaceship!"

*********************
We thank all of the participants for their lively bidding on the lingerie auction. The auction will close in 24 hours unless additional bids occur, in which case it will close once 24 hours has passed without a new bid.
~Nekoa Bay Auction House

It was like watching a train wreck. No matter how hard they tried, the two men were unable to stop watching the bidding.

"Hey, Tarvi..."

"Yes, Gregor..."

"Do you remember those cost estimates for the next armada we're adding to the Second?"

"Vaguely."

"How much was it per line frigate, again?"

"A litte a bit less that the last bid, not including the missiles and parasite craft."

"Huh." A few more moments of silence pass, before, "Hey, Tarvi."

"Yes, Gregor?"

"You don't happen to have any panties, do you?"

This draws an odd look. "I'm sly, Gregor, not a cross dresser."

"Still, I've heard stories from your friends about before we met..."

A sigh. "Even if such items do exist - I won't deny the possibility, as I may not remember it - I was always careful to destroy any evidence."

"Pity."

Perverts.

Perverts.

OOC: It's all in good fun. It never is smart to flame(bait?) in a topic where mods haveparticipated.

Perverts.

((OOC: It's a parody thread of a comedy thread. of course it's going to come across as weird/perverse/etc!))

President and Queen Lerathen was dead asleep in her desk. Lack of sleep due to watching the bidding for the past few days had driven her to exuastion. The television still played int he background on channel 78 saying that she was still the highest bidder. She had expected someone to beat her bid while she was napping, however it seems that it was still at her number. James slighty tapped her shoulder as he set down some warm tea and biscuits. Upon seeing the dish she lost all sense of hunger. She never could understand the Brittish customs. "Whats the bid at?" she groagily asked.
"Mrs. President, you are still winning."
"WHAT!" she was wide awake now. "Its been more than a day! I can't waste that much money... oh my god, I'm going to have to pull some extreme strings if no one beats my bid."
"Yes you are Mam, you'll have to pull every string you can."

Sitting from his easy chair, sipping on a Margarita, he watched the auction unfold on channel 73 and snickered.

"Fredrick, can you believe that I had become so obsessed over lingerie that a Reploid once wore?"

"Ridiculous sir...” Fredrick replied "but nothing a good dose of medication was not able cure."

"Good point."

Nekoa Bay Auction House, Nekoa Bay - Reploid Productions

"No new bids, huh?"

"No sir, it was rather unlikely to go much further than it has."

"Well then, 2.5 billion, let's close up and find out if our lucky winner actually has the money."

************************
Many thanks to all for a lively auction, but alas, all good things must come to an end. The winner has 48 hours to confirm payment on the item. If the auction winner fails to do so, the item will be offered to the second highest bidder at the same price. All sales are final, and at least half the payment must be made up front. Thank you all, and congratualations!
~Nekoa Bay Auction House

Queen Lerathen paced her office nervously. "I was just trying to raise the price, I didnt really WANT those panties. Where are we going to pay for this, what department will we take the money away from? I don't know, I don't know, I don't know."
James looked as if he had an idea, but did not want to push his idea too much. "My Queen, may I suggest taking the funding out of the public transportation department. Since we have moved to space, we dont really need all the buses anymore. We could sell tham all and use some of the extra money we have from this past year."
"But what of the book keepers. I am terrified now, someone will catch me. I can't do this." Queen and President Lerathen looked terrified.
"Allow me to handle this. I will ensure you are not caught." James now saw the need for confidence, so he was acting the part.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We have 1.25 Billion dollars ready to transfer to whichever account you wish. The remaining can be payed off in any way you wish. Please, just give us the remaining details and we will gladly take the underwear.

**************************************
All payments can be made to account # xxx-xxxx-xx-x of the First City Bank of Nekoa Bay. We will ship the item via private courier after payment has been received. Due to various circumstances, we cannot guarentee the item's condition upon arrival, though it will be insured for quadruple its market value.

Thank you for doing business with the Nekoa Bay Auction House!
~Nekoa Bay Auction House staff
***************************************

"Quadruple market value, sir?"

"I think we can be a bit generous. The thing's only worth maybe $20 at most lingerie shops, after all."

"Ah, righto, sir."

((ooc: Roflmao! $20!?))

President and Queen Lerathan cringed in pain as she sent a total of $2,500,000,000.00 to account # xxx-xxxx-xx-x of the First City Bank of Nekoa Bay in many small batches from sperate account from all over Liebermonk. She wanted to make this huge transfer to seem as small as possible to any book-keeper that decided to get nosey.

As the computer finally showed the transfer as finished, Queen Lerathen decided to block the channel on her television forever. Her anger and frustration at herself for being foolish with money that was not hers was too great for words to describe. She needed to calm her mind to forget about this.

She turned on her bath water, lit some candles and rested. However her mind could not drift from one subject:
WHAT THE HELL WILL SHE DO WITH REPLOID UNDERWEAR!

Two men and a large serpent watch the television, quietly discussing the auction.

"So how much did they get for that silly piece of fabric?" The dragon inquires, an amused hiss in her tone.

"Assuming the buyer doesn't flake out, two-point-five billion. What was our cut again for helping obtain the item?"

"Our deal states a 40% cut, or one billion. That should be a great boost to our plans, Lady Celeste."

"Very good, very good. Funny that such a trivial thing would drive men's passions to such lengths. What shall we spend our share on?" The dragon identified as Lady Celeste ponders aloud.

Lady Bryce leaned against her desk and watched the wall-sized TV in fascinated astonishment. Then she felt behind her till her fingers found the button on her desk and pressed it.

A small while later the butler came in and gave her a quizzical look.

She nodded towards the screen. "Were you watching that?"

"No, my Lady. I was aware of it, though."

"Did someone just spend two and a half billion dollars on Reploid underwear?"

"Yes, my Lady."

Lady Bryce looked thoughtfully at the screen. "You know, I have a pair of--"

"I'll just see to dinner, shall I, my Lady?"

"Mmm."