NationStates Jolt Archive

"The Chief Intelligence Officer of The Borderlands of Snub Nose 38, Bertram Frankle, sat in his office starring out the window across the city park. Bertrams office was NOT in the Ministry of Intelligence, known outside the country as "The Large Grouping of Individuals Gathered to Determine What Was Going On", but in a buiding that gave the appearance of a small inconspicuous apartment house. The Ministry Building, as much else in Snub Nose 38, was really not much more than a ruse. While some of the lower level intelligence offices were in the Ministry Building, the real work of the agency was guided by the offices in Bertrams building. On the credenza next to his desk stood a TV, permanently tuned to the Asteroid News Network. ANN wasn't necessarily the best news agency available, but it did provide coverage 24/7. All one had to do was glean the bits of real news from the rest of the babble, much like panning for gold."
"Bert considered the most recent report he'd received from his chief agent in Creep. They had still uncovered absolutely no information that was not common knowledge, which was the surest sign that there was something hidden there, a little deeper than they'd managed to dig. Bert turned to his computer and sent a coded email to his Chief of Covert Operations, directing her to send a special agent to Creep, unknown to anyone else."
"He picked up the phone and dialed Ernest Sproings number. He knew his deputy would be in - Ernie never left until he knew Bert had gone home."
"Ernie? Listen, I'm a little concerned about the situation in Intropulus. We can't leave it to chance. Yes, Slater's a competent guy, but I think he needs more manpower. No, not them. I thought another five man special ops team, and not in the capitol - we have that pretty well covered. Activate Charlie Hall's team, and notify Slater by carrier pigeon. Yeah, you to Ernie. Take care."
"Bert swung slowly back around in his chair to stare out the window again. He could just see the Tam River, the border between Snub Nose 38 and Selidor, where a smallish brown dragon was flying slowly upstream, back and forth across the river. Every so often the dragon stooped down a snatched something from the river - either a sturgeon if it was lucky, or just a very wet log if not. There was always one or two dragons fishing up or down the river. Bert had been trying for some time to think of a way to bring one down on this side of the river without creating an incident - dragons were Selidors national animal, and a protected species. They were also a very likely place to mount a spy camera, and Bert wanted to find out if Selidor thought so, too."
"Bert reached over and picked up the note pad on the window sill, and scanned the list he'd made earlier that day. The first seven items had been dealt with to one degree or another. There were two left."
"His eyes rested on the line that said "Slingshot". Slingshot was the code name of the secret weapon recently developed by Malogenhoglig, which was now missing. Rumor was that it might have been "borrowed" by Nodnerbia, or Intropulus. Bert didn't think so. Most often in this business rumors were created to hide the more plausible truth. But there had been no leaks, no hints, nothing at all to indicate were the Slingshot might really be. Well, perhaps something would develop tomorrow."
"The last item on the list simply said, 'Pick up two cans of tuna fish and a gallon of milk on the way home'."

bump

bump? :?: :shock:

bump? :?: :shock:
B - ring
U - p
M - y
P - ost

which brings the thread you post in back to page one. which i did so my regional neighbors could find it. which they don't seem to want to. so, there will be no more bumpin'. either they join in, or it'll just fade away. :wink:

(In the secret lab of Intropulus...)

Introbulus, the main official of Intropulus and #1 representative of INTROBULUS himself, sat in his relaxation chair, observing the rain. It had been raining for several days now, and the weather sattelite wouldn't be fixed until Monday. It was Thursday. That meant three more days of pure rainfall at the minimum. Fortunatly, all the robotic animals had been rust-proofed before the rain, and were safe from it's corroding properties. Introbulus picked up his left hand, and pushed a nearby button. He then spoke.

Introbulus: Lackey #23, come in here and give me the satistic report.

Instantly, a pathetic-looking person, dressed in formal, yet sloppy buisness suit, rushed into the room, carrying with him a small sheet of paper. This was what Introbulus had called for.

Lackey: Yes sir! Statistics show that advancements in robotic pet and agriculture research are showing a suprisingly fast increase in advancement! Also, laser pistol production should be ready within a few years.

Introbulus: Right on schedule. What about the human-thinking research?

At this point, Minion #23 frowned with great solomnity.

Lackey: :( Sorry sir, but we're still in a grey area.

Introbulus: That's okay, as long as our research progects for aviation and snack-despensal are up to date by the big sproing festival. By the way, how's that research coming along?

Lackey #23 smiled once again.

Lackey: :) Yes, sir! research should be ready well-before the sproing festival takes place!

Introbulus: Excellent. You are dismissed. Oh, and Minion?

Lackey: Yes sir?

Introbulus: Your socks don't match.

Lackey: :D Yes sir! It's an experiment to see if non-matching socks are more efficient!

Introbulus: Then shouldn't more people be wearing non-matching socks?

Lackey: At least 1 million people, sir!

Introbulus: Increase it by 1/2 million. You can never be too careful!

Lackey: Yes sir!

Lackey #23 left.

Introbulus: Maybe I should promote him to "Minion"...

ANN NEWS reporter Chonnie Clung has found one of Dominionizer Nodnerb's secret journal entries! Clung says that this was no easy feat, because it wasn't just sticking out in the open.
"I actually had to search!" Clung claims.
And now, here it is! An exciting Nodnerbian journal entry. Treasure it forever. Cherish it. Lick it.

Journal Entry #442
Honkuary 3rd,

My leg hurts. And I just got out of a meeting with my advisor. I told him that I needed to talk with him about something extremely important, something that could decide the fate of the asteroid as we know it!!!
Whether or not I should go to the Sproing Festival.
My advisor suggested that I should go. After all, I didn't get out much anymore, and I needed to start making new comrades. Eventually he convinced me that I should go. But there was only one problem.
"What am I going to wear?" I asked him, as I rubbed my sore leg
"Well," began my advisor, "It would be nice if your socks matched. I would also recommend long pants to hide that nasty bruise, and also a hat made out of only the finest patented puffin."
I thanked my advisor. He always was talented in the ways of fashion.
There was only one more thing to discuss with him.
"Have you checked on Slingshot lately?" I asked him.
"Just before I got here."
"And?"
"It's safe and sound." he smiled.
I smiled back.
Just then, the door flew wide open.
"I FOUND IT!!!!" screamed a woman I had never seen before. But I didn't care about her. All I cared about what she was holding. The stinking robotic dog that had bitten my leg two days ago.
And I kicked that cyber-mutt like there was no tomorrow. (With my other leg)
Later, I rewarded the woman who had found it with 500 spatulas and a free robotic corpse.

So now I'm going to go to sleep. I have many things to think about. The only thing I know is that if anyone ever found these journal entries, all would be lost.

I have sent Nodnerb a reward of 10,000 gil for destroying the evil robotic dog. May our scientists never create another such rabid dog (under breath)unless we happen to go to war, in which case it will be in popular demand!(/under breath)

Is B 612 anywhere near K 240?

We might have stolen your slingshot. I'm not sure, what'd it look like?

And now, this late breaking news, brought to you by Snacky Smores!

*Professor Cornelius F. Rutabaga named to the Ancient and Excellent Order of Draconias*

Professor Rutabaga, reknowned for his work in the field of discovering interesting things about stuff you never pay attention to, was this Thursday named to the Selidorian Nation's highest order of national honor. Named for the famous Dilbertus Draconias, who in time of legend outwitted the Great Dragon Thyrung thereby allowing for the founding of Selidor, this order reconginzes Selidorians for outstanding and noteworthy contributions to Selidorian society and culture. Dr. Rutabaga, Currently Chairman of the Dept. of DITASYNPAT at The University of Tweenisburgh is being honored for lifetime contribution to his field. His most recent work deals with discovering interesting things about what it sounds like when you drop a bunch of stuff down the stairs. With determined patience, through trial and error, he was able to closely approximate the opening twelve bars of "Flight of the Bumblebee" by dropping an array of household objects ranging from a four slot toaster to fifteen beer caps down a 27 step cast iron staircase. The exact sequence and timing of the release of the objects is to become the basis of Professor Rutabaga's 23rd book to date. "This award really means a lot to me, although I cannot avoid commenting on the inherent paradoxicality of publicly honoring and appreciating my work in a field dedicated to the stufy of stuff you never pay attention to. It really is quite funny, if you think about it." The professor then continued on for nearly 45 minutes. We may not be interested in printing it, but if you would like to know what he said, drop by his office, because we get the impression he's ready to go off on that subject at the drop of a hat. This story was written using dolphin safe paper, and ink made from the condensed blood of 1,000 emus.


-Eat Snacky Smores!

To date we have rosters from the following teams:

SN38 Hooligans
Nodnerbia's National Team (no name provided)
Intropulus' National Team (no name provided)
Alces Rex (National team of Runaway Moose)

-We are waiting for a resubmission of the Maho...gian team... transmission was lost in an unstable environment.

Other nations have until noon tomorrow to submit rosters... or if the country celebrates another national sleep-in day, perhaps later. In any case, the tournament will start tomorrow evening.

Is B 612 anywhere near K 240?
The location of Asteroid B 612 is a carefully guarded secret.

OOC: Refer to Le Petit Prince (The Little Prince). (Don't feel bad - I live here, and I had to be told too.) :oops:

***** ANN News Flash Report *****
Today the United Pickle Packers announced that International Pickle Week began on May 12th and would extend through May 21st. The stated intention of International Pickle Week is to bring national attention to this extraordinary vegetable.
***** ANN Signing Off *****

OOC: This is an actual news report from NPR this morning. It went on to note that - 1 That's not a week, that's 10 days. 2 Wondered why an international week had a national goal. 3 A vegetable may be pickled, but a pickle need not be a vegetable. Fruit is sometimes pickled. Meat is sometimes pickled. Boiled eggs are sometimes pickled. 4 A cucumber is not a pickle unless you pickle it in a brine solution.
Ho, boy. :wink:

Pickles are so good they need 10 days.

***** ANN News Report *****
At 2:15 this morning The Borderlands of Snub Nose 38 launched their first satellite into orbit. The launch vehicle was a modified Topol rocket, purchase from the friendly NationState of Klamath.
In related news, a Spokeswoman for The Bunch of Highly Educated Nerds Who Thought Up the Idea of Getting Snub Nose 38 Into Space Exploration said that in the near future SN38 would be using reusable launch craft instead of one-time rockets. It seems a bi-lateral Research and Development Team is being put together by Snub Nose 38 and Astrolia to develop such a craft.
***** :wink: *****

I dislike pickles. :evil:

Then you are clearly evil. More evil, even, then this guy! :arrow: :evil:

Or even this guy! :arrow: :twisted:

Or Even THIS guy! :arrow: :shock:

Oh wait, that last one wasn't evil at all. Nevermind...

bump

Dear everybody whose eyeballs contain screen-glue:

My old most trusted advisor, Crusty Waffle-Biscuit, who unfortunately was an Intropulus Spy, had come up with the motto, "We eat more than you."

When I found out about Crusty's betrayal, I immediately realized that his motto would never do. So, I sought out a new most trusted advisor. (Via my ingenious "Most Trusted Advisor Audition") Eventually, I decided upon my Aunt Bertha. (Who is also the goalie on the Nodnerbian Soccer Team)

Her hair is rather frizzy.

So now, my motto is no longer what it once was. It has changed. The old motto is no more, and it has been replaced. It has been replaced by something less old... something you could call new. Or perhaps even brand new, if you wanted to go overboard. Pretty neat concept, eh? Eh?

Oh no!!! I've turned into the sort of person who says eh!!!! I hate eh!!!! It doesn't even mean anything! It's just this two-letter thing that brainless people say when they can't think of anything else! It's like "um", only worse!

Anyway, if you'd like to see the motto that my Aunt Bertha has come up with, take a glimpse, eh?

Cordially,
Dominionizer Nodnerb, eh?

My spies don't have names! They hide in the shadows of office corners gathering lint and information!

...Pretend you didn't hear that, okay?

My spies don't have names! They hide in the shadows of office corners gathering lint and information!

...Pretend you didn't hear that, okay?
Only if I get 10% of the lint 8)

The importance of a good motto cannot be overstated. The Selidorian motto is omnipresent, including on our money, official documents, billboards, radio stations, TV Stations, pet licenses, fishing licenses, and breakfast cereals.

*** ANN News Special - A Brief, Not in Depth, Interview With The Creep ***
Q - "Why is your nation called "The Creep"?+
A - "It is named after Sir Henry T. Creep founder of The Creep"

Q - "Where was The Creep before settling here on the Asteroid?"
A - "UWC"

Q - "2 + 2 is?"
A - "Pass"

Q - "What does the Guru of Creep like to do for recreation?"
A - "Make fun of Right Wingers"

Q - "If a tree falls in the forest, and there's no one there, does it make a sound?"
A - "Certainly"

Q - "Thursday?"
A - "Yes."

Q - "What would you like to tell the Asteroid about The Creep?"
A - "The Creep:What Being Sexy Is All About"
*** This Has Been An ANN Brief, Not in Depth, Interview ***

Her Royal Regal Magestic Highestness, Queen Scalet of Wynbotel, wonders about Robotic Elephants :idea:

Her Royal Regal Magestic Highestness, Queen Scalet of Wynbotel, wonders about Robotic Elephants :idea:
as well as the commencement of Burpuary

From the Journal of the Dominionizer:

Stardate 1563572:

I have been betrayed yet again. It has been a while since Crusty Waffle-Biscuits, my ex-advisor, had been booted off the face of Nodnerbia, and my injured trust had finally begun to grow back. Just as I was finally ready to forgive and forget, I found that someone else had been plotting against me. Someone that I thought I knew. Someone that I thought I could count on.

My Aunt Bertha.

She had been working for Intropulus as well. It seems that every time I get a new most trusted advisor, they are Intropulan spies. This time, I was more careful in choosing my next most trusted advisor.
His name is simply BLADOBOSTIVOK IMPARTRIGFLAGAM. (He insists that all his letters are capitalized) He doesn't seem like someone who would betray me. But then again, neither did my auntie dearest. -sob-

So, following tradition, I let BLADOBOSTIVOK IMPARTRIGFLAGAM come up with a new motto for my beloved Dominion.

"Give me liberty or give me what fer."

Dear bladobostivok impartfigflagam:

What fer??? Give me liberty or give me a fish!

Dear Snub Nose:

I hate to admit it, but you have come up with a motto that contains more class, more hidden meaning, and much more overall goodstuff than my long-named most trusted advisor has. Therefore, and I don't care what he says, I'm willing to buy from you the motto you have created, for a few trillion spatulas. If you decline my offer, than I'll be forced to take drastic measures.

Cordially,
Dominionizer Nodnerb

Dear Most Famous of Nodnerbians

We insist on 1 spatula, and 1 vodka martini, as the price for the motto you wish to purchase.

TGCICOSFTBOSN38

Well aren't you the bargain hunter??? (No, wait!!! That's me!!!) Well, I suppose I'll have to accept your rather greedy offer...

Notice that one punctuation mark isn't enough anymore... I need three...

Cordially,,,
The most famous of the Nodnerbians

Who is replacing Aunt Bertha on the Nodnerbian soccer team? The second set of scores are up.

Well, since my Aunt Bertha turned out to be a stinker, I have to find a new goalie. The logical thing to do would be to replace her with BLADOBOSTIVOK IMPARTRIGFLAGAM, but he doesn't really have any legs... (DON'T ASK!)... so instead, I'll find the chubbiest patented puffin in my entire Dominion and shove him in the goal. Hopefully he'll be fat enough to just be able to sit there and block the ball with his flubb.

Cordially,
Dominionizer Nodnerb.

P.S. Don't drink seltzer.

P.S. Don't drink seltzer.
* Raspberry Sound, with tongue stuck out !! *

Seltzer = YUCK!!!

Seltzer, spelled backwards, it Reztles
Yuck, spelled backswards, is Kcuy

So, naturally * Trained messenger pigeons fly over the head of The Queen of Wynbotle and - well...I'll leave it to your imagination *

The AIL is not necessarily only for footballers and hooligans, if anyone wants to start another sport in the AIL (croquet was suggested) feel free... also, if anyone wants to enter a team in the next tourney (starting sometime after this one is done)... telegram to Runaway Moose, Attn: Snootius Antlerus: International Athletics Coordinator, Runaway Moose.
Thank you.

Does anyone still read this? If yes, then you can check the AIL strand for the scores of Day 1
If not, check anyway.

Does anyone still read this? If yes, then you can check the AIL strand for the scores of Day 1
If not, check anyway.
Nope. Nobody reads this anymore. So, they WON'T GO LOOK AT THE STUPID SCORES!!! Really, they won't. Really...
* :oops: :shock: {small sobbing sounds are heard coming from the hooligan locker room} :oops: :shock: *

HRRMH,QS has been too busy washing pigeon poo out of her hair to read these stupid messages! :x

Well, I don't read this anymore, unfortunately, so I'll never remember to check the scores, and consequently, I'll never know how much better my team is than everybody else's.

Oh well. I can imagine it anyway.

Is there still life on this Asteroid?

It's become a very quiet asteroid indeed.

It's kinda sad everyone left.