NationStates Jolt Archive

As some of you may recall distantly, a long time ago our predecessor the Grand Poobah initiated plans to build a real Victory class Star Destroyer, (http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?p=1073556&highlight=#1073556) most notably after a certain silly nation barely more impressive than ourselves completed an entire fleet of cardboard ISDs! :evil:

At this point in time, we have completed and placed into orbit the entirety of the furniture and decorative objects required to appropriately furnish it, as well as a large scaffolding, paint, and an orbiting greenhouse! At this point in time, we require technological assistance, and most notably, actual working technical blueprints for such an object, rather than the LucasFilm decorative editions!

Furthermore, if we are not supplied with such technology and plans shortly, we will be sending out number of canoes full of mean people with guns to conquer those who have this technology until they yield it to us! :evil:

Why us...?
Arcel, why? What's with the canoes, anyway?

Nice to see that you improved your spelling, though.

Why us...?
Arcel, why? What's with the canoes, anyway?

Nice to see that you improved your spelling, though.

How many times must we make this clear?

We, the Grand Poobah of Thunk Thud Puppet, have no diplomatic ties, relationships, similarities, kinships, decent opinions of, (OOC: or any RL connection) or any other such connections with Arcel! :evil:

We, the Grand Poobah, deplore this repeated mistake and demand that Resi Corp issue a retraction of and apology for this grievous diplomatic blunder!

*is doubtful, but decides to give the benefit of the doubt*

No appology will be issued, though.

No appology will be issued, though.

Outrageous! No apology? We demand a discount on the purchase of functional Victory Star Destroyer technical blueprints from you! :evil:

No appology will be issued, though.

Outrageous! No apology? We demand a discount on the purchase of functional Victory Star Destroyer technical blueprints from you! :evil:

Don't push it

Outrageous! No apology? We demand a discount on the purchase of functional Victory Star Destroyer technical blueprints from you! :evil:We have such blueprints, but the only way you're going to get them is by using force. We don't like to sell space technology.

We, the Grand Poobah of Thunk Thud Puppet, will take that into consideration!

Is there another nation which will send us such plans peacefully? We wish to complete the Victory within our 100 Year Plan for completing it, and further delays in acquiring the technology needed to continue will bring us behind our current schedule! :evil:

Without forthcoming cooperation from any other nation possessing the plans for a Victory Star Destroyer, we will have no other choice but to explore non-commercial options! :evil:

We demand, beg, whine, and plead for such plans! This is your last chance! :evil:

Should you solumnly vow never again to use the :evil: or :twisted: smileys, our respect of your nation will increase tenfold.

We are now seeking maps to Resi Corp in order to best direct our canoes of warriors!

Edit: Added (didn't see your post, oops):

Does that mean that you will sell us the plans? (Particularly if we cease to make faces in our communiques?)

Does that mean that you will sell us the plans? (Particularly if we cease to make faces in our communiques?)You can make faces, just not the :twisted: and :evil: ones. They are so overused, it's just plain not funny.

And no, that doesn't mean that we'll send you the plans. It means that we'll stop calling you "Arcel" behind your back, though. :P

Official Communique Sent to Resi Corp CEO:

Outrageous! Prepare to face the wrath of our several soldiers! :evil:

Mid-Ocean:

"Row harder!"

"Are you sure that Resi Corp HQ can be found in this direction?"

"The map said so, so onward ho!" The speaker checked the GPS in front of him just in case before grabbing his oar and helping push the war canoe along. With great ominous intent, the very small fleet of war canoes pushed forward, RPGs and assault rifles ready.

An International Airport:

The businessman talked loudly into his cell phone and the ticket booth attendant at the same time. To all intents and appearances, he somehow managed to pull off urgent stock trades and buying ticket claiming to go to Resi Corp territory at the same time. Unfortunately, he managed to lose a bag full of designer neckties in the process.

A company of orbital Raven Units spots the fleet of canoes.
"Hey Bob, what do ya recon those all are?"
"Looks ter me like a buncha pansy hippies, Joe. I say we give 'em a dose of ol' betsy 'ere."
"Ya means blast 'em?"
"Course that's what I means, what'dya think I meansed?"

Ten Raven Units (headed by Bob 'n' Joe) open fire with their heavy plasma cannons on the small fleet.
"Yee-harw! This'in more fun thun duck huntin'!"

OOC: This has GOT to be one of the wierdest war threads yet!

Vice President Erin "Sneezy" Aireserkeiel reads through reports "They're for real, right? Put out a call to the Navy to watch out for fanatics in canoes. Don't even bother raising the Military Alert Level."

OOC: This has GOT to be one of the wierdest war threads yet!OOC: We like to use troops with intelligence levels comparable to our opponents'. :P

A company of orbital Raven Units spots the fleet of canoes.
"Hey Bob, what do ya recon those all are?"
"Looks ter me like a buncha pansy hippies, Joe. I say we give 'em a dose of ol' betsy 'ere."
"Ya means blast 'em?"
"Course that's what I means, what'dya think I meansed?"

Ten Raven Units (headed by Bob 'n' Joe) open fire with their heavy plasma cannons on the small fleet.
"Yee-harw! This'in more fun thun duck huntin'!"

Communique, desk of Gand Poobah to Resi Corp CEO:

We are outraged! You dare to resist the might of our military? :evil: We demand that you surrender the plans immediately or face annihilation!

Mid-Ocean:

"Aieee! It burns, it burns!" The lead canoist managed to escape complete annihilation by the clever expedient of abandoning ship and taking a deep dive, but the rest were torched into chunky soup by the vicous attack, captured on live feed briefly and rebroadcast by Puppet Stations other places around the globe. The canoes charred and fell apart instantly at the touch of the plasma, and the ammunition on board detonated at the touch of flying canoe shards. The camera, floating in the water, somehow survived long enough to confirm the hideous destruction of all four canoes and nineteen of the twenty intrepid canoists.

Meanwhile...

"I'm telling you, now is a good time to drop soybean futures and drop it into oil."

The businessman, ever glued to his phone, waved off a fourth refill of his martini in the first class section of the plane. The ditzy flight attendant gave him a funny look and then moved on down the aisle.

Elsewhere:

The five stared at each other briefly over the table.

One man stirred uncomfortably.

Resi Corp internal security is going to catch us if we meet again... and me only a proxy passing blind-drop coded messages along. Man, I'm glad this is my last meeting...

"Yee-haw! Call in dah huntin' dawg, Joe! I nailed me some birdies!"
"Uhh... Bob, I dun think there ain't no huntin' dawg..."
"Aw, bugger ya motha, I guess I'ma gonna hafta go down and git collect dem targets m'self..."

Bob's Raven (a Steel Maiden) swoops down, scans the area, and grabs the leader of the canoes. Hovering over the ocean, Bob lets out a yell.
"LOOKIE WAT I FOUND! IT'S A BIG MUTHA!"

Over the Water:

"HELP! Rape! Mean men in metal suits! EEK!"

A flight to Resi Corp:

The businessman held his cell phone off to the side for a moment, dispelling the illusion that it was permanently attached.

"Hey! You! Stewardess! Are we landing soon?"

A dark office building:

The secretary shivered momentarily, hoping that nobody would take her being in the building after hours amiss. Tiptoeing down the hall, she held the small black box in her purse nervously.

It just takes a picture, right? I'm safe, they said I'd be safe, and I wouldn't have to work another day of my life...

She picked at the lock on the file cabinet carefully, darting looks over her shoulder at every little sound.

I hope there aren't any cameras watching...

She pulled a file from the cabinet and opened it, whipping out the black box...

Internal Communique to the Desk of the Grand Poobah of Thunk Thud Puppet:

Box 4 active. Agent should be broadcasting our data shortly.

"Why yes, sir," the stewardess replies, "but don't expect to be anywhere fast once we hit the ground. During these times of war they practically strip-search you to make sure you don't have anything. I don't know why they do it, it's not like they don't watch us 24/7 anyway."

OOC: Where's the secretary, in Resi Corp?

OOC: An office building for an old established aeronautics military contractor (think Lockheed Martin-ish) that someone suspects - and the secretary thinks she could confirm - might have certain plans relevant to a VSD - e.g., ion cannons, turbolasers, appropriate power plants, concussion missiles, etc. The black box is emitting loud heavily encrypted shots of what it sees.

The flight:

"Rmph. I don't have anything to be embarassed for on a strip search, chickie." He demonstrably sucked in his small potbelly and leered. "Care to come find out with me?"

Elsewhere:

The man typed an e-mail to his ex-girlfriend.

"Man, I'm glad that's over. Whoever they were, they paid me well for a while, but it's scary. I think they were working for some government agency, maybe even not one of our own. Something about 'our great VICTORY,' one of them said one time. But I'm through. I'm telling you, they gave me enough that we could play it real and have a nice apartment somewhere for a while, if you want to come back and be with me. I miss ya."

He clicked the send button, not fully realizing the degree to which Resi Corp monitored their citizens' online activities.

"Here, sir," the secretary responds, "I have a little something to show you."
She reaches into her back pocket, and in a flash pulls out a taser and shocks the guy flat.
"Bastard..." she mutters, walking off.

OOC: How much do we monitor our citizens' e-mail? That would be fully, like everything else in Resi Corp. :)

IC: Suddenly, S.H.E.L.A.'s face appears on the man's computer.
http://invisionfree.com/forums/Corporate_Islands/index.php?act=Attach&type=post&id=132
{Just what do you think you're doing, human? We have your room surrounded by robots, and you'll}
{only have a chance of surviving the coming skirmish if I make sure that the robots miss. The only way}
{that they'll EVER do that is if I tell them to, and I'll only tell them to if you tell me what you just sent. Capiche?}

Dark Office Building:

The secretary carefully flipped through each sheet in the folder, making sure to push the little red button on the black box each time. She couldn't understand the technical contents of the folder at all, but it was worth a whole lot to somebody, as far as she could tell, and taking pictures of it would let her cash in on that.

I have, you want, me get money. Same thing that happens all the time here.

What she didn't know is that each click sent a rather powerful radio transmission out as well.

And green button to turn it off and save the pictures. They make spy cameras so simply these days.

The green button clicked audibly, and she carefully replaced the folder back in the cabinet, rushing towards a bathroom that she could flush her gloves down.

On the plane:

"OW!" The rather obnoxious businessman slumped in his seat. His neighbor, a skinnier and more somber looking fellow, whispered quiet thanks at the flight attendant.

As other flight attendant passed by - the blonde ditzy one - he asked for a towel to wipe his neighbor's drool off his seat.

Resi Corp, a computer terminal:

"AIEEE!" The man stared at the screen, jaw bobbing up and down as he blubbered half-coherently. "Don't kill me! I don't wanna die! I'm going clean, I swear, I just wanted to write my girlfriend! Don't let the robots kill me and render me down for soap!"

They're going to kill me and take away all my money! He couldn't decide which was a worse fate.

From the Desk of the Grand Poobah, incidental miscellaneous:

We, the Grand Poobah of Thunk Thud Puppet, have been disappointed of late with our harem! Who dared to come in the dead of night and spread false rumors amongst them of our incapacity? :evil:

Heads will roll, we say! Heads! They may even be detached from bodies, if this continues and turns out to be a systematic security problem! :evil:

bump

S.H.E.L.A. continues...
{I want to know what this "Victory" stuff is about. Victory over what, pray tell?}

The Resi Corporation's offical statement on the harem issue:
Maybe your harlots came upon those conclusions by their own accord. :wink:

The man blubbered.

"I don't know what this 'victory' was over or how they were going to beat whoever they wanted it over, I just heard one of them say it quietly to another once. And then he smiled, and said I wouldn't understand, and so I didn't ask about it."

He shifted, the wet stain on his pants now visible, but consumed by terror, he didn't even care about his appearance.

"I'll tell you anything I know! Just don't kill me!"

Dark Office Building:

The secretary flushed the gloves down the toilet with great relief, tucked the black box into her purse, and began heading for the back exit.

Resi Airport:

The businessman rubbed his head as he blearily came to consciousness. When did they start giving flight attendants tasers? My head hurts... I think I missed some calls. Where did I put my cell phone?

The ditzy blonde flight attendant smiled at the somber skinny fellow who'd sat next to the irritating cell-phone businessman as he disembarked.

"Have a nice day and welcome to Resi Corp."

Elsewhere:

"I sense a disturbance..."

"Yes, sir, I'll replace the air filter immediately, sir."

{Hmm... I see. Now sit tight, the robots are going to burst in here at any moment and begin shooting. If you}
{remain perfectly still, they won't hit you.}

The robots burst into the room, circle around the man, taser him, and drag him off. On the computer screen, S.H.E.L.A. types:
{Or they could take you into custody. Hey, at least you're still alive...}

OOC: We have cameras literally EVERYWHERE in the Resi Corporation. As such, there's a whole mess of robots waiting at the back exit for the secretary. She doesn't have to stumble blindly into their trap, though, as she could hear one of 'em step on something, or the like.

Back Exit, Dark Office Building:

The secretary hesitated at the exit. Is there somebody there?

She paused a moment. There was silence, and she stepped out the exit, and a muffled beep from her purse...

:shock:

Satellite Imagery Center, Some Anonymous Militaristic Nosy Nation Somewhere:

"As you can see from the images, people or robots - we're suspecting robots - were gathered outside the back of this building, identified as the central engineering offices of a prominent Resi aerospace firm."

The aide clicked a button, and the grainy black and white images of dots gathered around a large box that must have been an office building.

"This was fifteen minutes ago. Thirteen seconds after this slide was taken, we picked up something that brought it to the attention of our analysts."

The aide clicked a button again. The next slide was even less clear - a great white smear highlighting the same box.

"After some analysis, we've determined that someone exited the building immediately before this happened."

The aide clicked again.

"Hmm... interesting. Resi Corp, you say? I wonder what this relates to..."

*bump*

The robots immeadiately grab the secretary and drag her underground to the Eden Level prisons for future tortur... er, "interrogation".

The robots immeadiately grab the secretary and drag her underground to the Eden Level prisons for future tortur... er, "interrogation".

OOC: Erm, the one that just got blown up by that evil little black box she was given and lied to about?

The businessman, back to yapping on his cell phone, went to go flag down a taxi to get to his meeting, yapping as if to make up for lost time.

The ditzy blonde flight attendant collapsed for the night with great weariness. What a day...

The somber slender fellow checked the Obituary section. Any other funerals I'm going to need to go to?

OOC: Erm, the one that just got blown up by that evil little black box she was given and lied to about?OOC: Well, you weren't perticularly clear that she got blown to smithereens...

The businessman, back to yapping on his cell phone, went to go flag down a taxi to get to his meeting, yapping as if to make up for lost time.

The ditzy blonde flight attendant collapsed for the night with great weariness. What a day...

The somber slender fellow checked the Obituary section. Any other funerals I'm going to need to go to?OOC: Procede, nothing for me to RP here...

A meeting of prominent businessmen, Resi Corp:

"...and that's why I think that a merger is a good idea. Corner the international market, and they'll have no recourse left but to knuckle under on trade terms. All of them. It would be a glorious day for all of us when that finally happened."

A question.

"Yes, I realize you may have security concerns; we are also accustomed to dealing with governmental classification issues."

Funeral for a suddenly suicided and well traveled widow with no children:

The somber man sat through the funeral with a stony face, sitting there long after most departed. He walked up to the podium and pressed his hands on it, closing his eyes. With a shudder, he pulled his hands away, rubbing at the rainbow smudges left upon it with his elbow. They glistened and then faded away in the light.

He walked out, still stony faced and silent.

lol he sounds like arcel all of a sudden

"Skuse me, guys, but I think that a merger is against all operating procedure here in the corporation."
This voice came from Joey Dufferson, the Head Chair of the Resi Brewing Company. He was dressed in his best clothes, which were his old faded jeans, a flannel T-shirt, and his novelty "CAUTION! I AM BOOZER" hat he bought in Japan.
http://invisionfree.com/forums/Corporate_Islands/index.php?act=Attach&type=post&id=130
"We never merge unless we take over a company by force, seeing as we wouldn't want to jeopardize our jobs, now would we?

Meeting:

"By all means, I think you misunderstand me." The businessman backpedalled quickly. "I didn't mean to imply a subordinate position for Resi at all; if anything, you would be taking over us on the big picture of things, pretty much. It's a simple matter of reenergizing our export business solutions into a win-win synchronity marketing paradigm, really, and initiating organizational efficiencies to maximize revenue growth dividends..."

Airport:

The somber man hopped a bus back to the airport from the car rental, having gone to a total of three other funerals in the day at different places in town, although never anywhere else did he smear the podium after.

OOC: You really have no idea what you just wrote, do you? :lol:
IC:

"But y'see," Dufferson continued, "if we take over you, you will have non-Resi-approved executives. We will be forced to bring 'em in to our workplace, and for all we know they could be spys for a larger Corporation. I say no, the whole affair is too messy. I don't care if we'd corner the market in whatever, if by absorbing you we corner the market, then we simply must overpower your business economically so that you are forced to give all of your assets to us, and under our rules, too.

OOC: Oh, I know exactly what I just wrote :D

The Meeting:

"Erm, well..." The businessman fiddled with his expensive silk tie momentarily. "Perhaps we can leave those negotiations for later? I have a couple of little... business proposals for you. They are, I assure you, profitable, come from a handful of different sources, and profit is what business is all about."

The Airport:

The somber man prepared to leave on a flight back out of Resi Corp territory in a couple hours, single overnight bag packed with nothing of any particular interest - clothes, a few books, a CD player, headphones, and a small booklet of unmarked CDs, a toothbrush, toothpaste.

"Okay, what are these proposals?"

Meeting:

"Well..." The businessman began launching into a long presentation overview.


*A marketing campaign designed to simoultaneously boost Resi Beer and the shoe sales of an undisclosed company through advertising linking the two in a rather curious fashion to some high profile unsolved murders.

*A small autocratic state wanting three big four-legged tank to terrorize the local populace into submission. And the know-how needed to service them. The rebels might have hovertanks, too, so they will pay well for knowledge on how to sabotage them.

*An aerospace company, which, having outsourced all its engineers, promised a customer a squadron of TIE fighters without having any design or production capabilities. In order to keep the hoax up long enough to bauil on the stockholders, the executives need to produce the @$% things.... and will pay through the nose for them.

*Hit men for hire. Will work in return for favorable media coverage on their church, which they think Resi Corp can provide.

*Robotics manufacturer has a surplus of DNA-analyzer and tracker/hunter drones that were banned by law in their country, looking for a goverment to export all of the drones to.

Meanwhile at the airport:

The somber man strolled to the boarding gate, walking calmly to his flight. Time to leave this place.

*A marketing campaign designed to simoultaneously boost Resi Beer and the shoe sales of an undisclosed company through advertising linking the two in a rather curious fashion to some high profile unsolved murders."Personally, we like to keep our products, especially our Beer, as far away from murders as possible."
*A small autocratic state wanting three big four-legged tank to terrorize the local populace into submission. And the know-how needed to service them. The rebels might have hovertanks, too, so they will pay well for knowledge on how to sabotage them.OOC: It's a bit of a Faux Pas not to know the name of one of our famed FARQs.
IC: "We can do this. However, we'd need to know exactly who this country is. We reccommend that you learn what a FARQ is before you go talking to any of the higher management."
*An aerospace company, which, having outsourced all its engineers, promised a customer a squadron of TIE fighters without having any design or production capabilities. In order to keep the hoax up long enough to bauil on the stockholders, the executives need to produce the @$% things.... and will pay through the nose for them."Well, that's a bit of a problem. Why? Because we don't build TIEs. They're ugly, weak, and a waste of resources that could go towards building FARQs, Raven Units, and Plasma Tanks."
*Hit men for hire. Will work in return for favorable media coverage on their church, which they think Resi Corp can provide."Yes, we may need their services later, but there's no one in perticular we'd like to 'off' right now."
*Robotics manufacturer has a surplus of DNA-analyzer and tracker/hunter drones that were banned by law in their country, looking for a goverment to export all of the drones to."We'll take 'em. After through screening, of course."

Meeting:

"Oh, those poor aerospace executives will be so disappointed." The businessman shuffled in his briefcase for a few more papers. As he did so, a note fell out.

Grand Poobah of Thunk Thud Puppet will cut you a check for $2,500,000,000 if you can get them to agree to anything that puts the full VSD blueprints in his hands. Distracting them and gathering most of their executives in one place would also be ... appreciated. Particularly if they still remain uncooperative. Don't worry about calling us, we're tracking your cell phone and backtransmitting up on the carrier wave.

Of course, we still have those pictures on file, so you'd best deliver to our satisfaction.

Airport:

The somber man lay back in his seat, reading through Dostoyevsky as the airplane taxied on the runway.

He fought the urge to wash his hands.

ooc: I must say this is some funny stuff