NationStates Jolt Archive

No, screw you. Hi, you might remember me as the narrator for the stories that were written here. Also known as the boy behind TIOR. Well, quite frankly I'm never mentioned. Ever. But you need me! You know you need it! Well, I, (and the other three billion Rosians) are sick and tired of being isolationist. So you know what? Screw you, yes, I said it. You don't know a great man even if a sign was held up! Well, now things must happen. Things that will confuse and boggle the mind, things that will make you say "What the f- shut yo mouth!" Those things! Bwa ha ha ha! Won't nominate me for anything eh? Won't mention me in one of your quotes, eh?! Ha ha ha ha ha! You don't know what you started you manthing! Now on to the bloody story! Idiots!

"Bah, bah, bah!" Sergei shouted in boredom, extreme boredom! "Whatever happened to the days when people knew we existed?! We have an Empire that nobody knows we have! In other words, I'm BORED Mr. President. Bored."

"But Sergei, the Rosians like peace!" The President Frederick said. "Besides, only I can turn off the Pax Rosanica remember?"

Sergei stood up. "Nonsense! According to a recent poll the Rosians want to kill something! They want BLOOD. They want CONTROVERSY. They want ATTENTION." He shouted afterwards "Can't you see von Hattensberg?! The billions of citizens of the Imperial Union are BORED."

"So you'd rather forgo prosperity, peace, and great harvests for five minutes in the spotlight?"

"Well fifteen is better, maybe twenty... look that's besides the point! Just let me do what I need to do Frederick! I've never let you down, right?" Sergei asked. "Come on..."

"Oh fine."

"Score! Mr. President, you will not regret it." Sergei said in satisfaction.

"I think I will..."

One hour later

"Okay Sergei, everything is ready." The technician said. "Just push... the button!"

"The button?"

"Yes Mr. Grand Chancellor, the Button... of DOOM!" Dun dun dun! Dun. Oh, and thus Sergei pressed the button.

But what happened? You want to know what happened eh? Well you can't! Because I never got any love! I never got a bloody thank you! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! You manthings! All of you! I bet you think that war is more important then a random story right?! Well it isn't! It's not! I am angry! Angry at YOU. Yes you, the viewer who is looking at pornography and not reading this, you make me sick, you manthing. Oh you're sorry? Sorry's not good enough! Dance for me, dance the Riverdance of Dancing! You stupid Irishman, move your arms! You can't, because you're riverdancing! Bwa ha ha ha! Good... now I'll tell you.

A nuclear explosion just happened above your very nation's atmosphere, away from any spaceships and whatnot. It reads:

Party at Frederick's house! Come clothed, BYOS*!

*Bring your own security.

(That's right. I'm bored, and I want to hold a random party that makes no sense and everybody's invited! Just keep it clean eh?)

So, it was obvious Fedor was going to attend, even though he was controlling an army in a war, and he was about to get married. Whatever, the bitch could wait. So, he took a jet, you know, and landed on the Island of Rose, and ignored most of the Rosians around him, he was way too cool for them, and bought a flat in whatever their capital is on the spot, giving the millions it cost in effective. So, with his pimp new house in the Island of Rose he prepared for this so called party.

So he put on his best closthes, including some nice Anchor Blue extra baggy jeans, with a Audio skating shirt, overlaid by a Fubu sports jacket. So, as his pants sagged under his ass, and his shirt was way too big for his six foot body, he got into his Escalade he just bought and rolled his way to the part-ay.

When he got there he went straight up to the door and said,"I'm here niggaz"

OOC: It's been awhile since Gordon Lew and his family have been out of their cave. They'll join ye.

IC:

Gordon Lew put on his best Brooks Brothers Suit, Victoria Lew put on a simple sailor suit, and Melissa Lew put on a fancy Chinese Style Dress. Jimmy Chang came with them....They then flew to the Island of Rose, whereupon they went to Frederick's house and knocked on the door.

Sergei saw Fedor come in and gave his some flesh. "Hey what's up my nigga? We gots some tracks in heah, look at this."

Sergei thus started to do the 1, 2, step. If you do not know what the 1, 2 step is get out of my sight. Everybody knows what it is, even the hobo who lives across the street knows what it is. Hell, he's doing it right now! Look at the hobo. Look at him dance. Hmmm, he's dancin'! Oh sorry, anywho. "Come on Fedor, we're having grits. Want some?" He then saw Gordon Lew. "Hey, how are ya! Join the party! Where do you come from? Both of you."

OOC:

Lol, well, excuse me for forgetting about you ;) I was dissappointed myself....huh....

IC:

Caster Oblivion read the big explosion over the Motherland of Anagonia. His eyes went wide.

"Party! Hell yea!"

So, whatever, he got into this big Ol' helicopter, or something. He put on a stylin outfit of red, all glittery and whatnot. His last name being Oblivion he had to make a scene. Oh yea, he pimped that suit out, dancing in the Helicopter to a nice beat.

When he got to the Island of Rose, he jumped out, still dancing to the beat. Lights flashin in the helicopter, a jumpin butt-kickin helicopter with music....disco music! He did the Disco Dance, baby! Then it went to a stylin beat, and he danced to the beat, all the way to the door, hell yea!

*EDITED**DOUBLE EDITED*

All of a sudden fireworks appeared out of nowhere and Richard Simmons entered the room making everybody wants to do exercise! Woo! Go Richard Simmons, but I'm not gay... not that there's anything wrong with that. Well there is, I mean... it's so weird. Whatever.

Caster saw Sergei and styled his pimpin large hat, rubbed his finger across its end. The red glitter shinin! Oh yea!

"Whats up, my man? We all havin a ball or what!"

Sergei saw Fedor come in and gave his some flesh. "Hey what's up my nigga? We gots some tracks in heah, look at this."

Sergei thus started to do the 1, 2, step. If you do not know what the 1, 2 step is get out of my sight. Everybody knows what it is, even the hobo who lives across the street knows what it is. Hell, he's doing it right now! Look at the hobo. Look at him dance. Hmmm, he's dancin'! Oh sorry, anywho. "Come on Fedor, we're having grits. Want some?" He then saw Gordon Lew. "Hey, how are ya! Join the party! Where do you come from? Both of you."

Melissa then said, in her thick Rhode Island-style accent, "We just flew in from Xenizen Hong Kong! Gordon has been very busy, so he decided to relax and talk with other people...he heard about the shindig, so here we are!"

Gordon said, "The wife's got that part of the story right. It's been a bitch stitching the country together after the war. Five years, and all I have is angry vets, gang problems, politicians, and a CIA and a huge megacorporation I swear wants me dead."

He then presented a bottle of Suntory and said, "Whaddya think? Need any more liquor? Barring that, take it as a gift."

Sergei suddenly got a pimp hat out and put on his pimp apparel. "You're just in time Comrade! It's the Playa Hater's Ball of 2012! And I must say that that hat looks like it was stolen from the Macy's womens' department. Oh, and your mother is fat." He then looked at Fedor. "Thank you Comrade! Your wife is looking good tonight too!"

"Sergei!"

"But she has herpes! Herpes!" He leaned towards Gordan. "The wife is having her... time of the month."

Sergei suddenly got a pimp hat out and put on his pimp apparel. "You're just in time Comrade! It's the Playa Hater's Ball of 2012! And I must say that that hat looks like it was stolen from the Macy's womens' department. Oh, and your mother is fat." He then looked at Fedor. "Thank you Comrade! Your wife is looking good tonight too!"

"Sergei!"

"But she has herpes! Herpes!" He leaned towards Gordan. "The wife is having her... time of the month."

Gordon said, "Meh. Well, I try not to bother with those things. Life's too short."

Victoria said, "Dad.....you know this is the Playa Hater's Ball, right?"

Gordon said, "Yes."

Victoria said, "Okay. Cause you're supposed to, you know, get witty."

Gordon said, "Well, I'll let them start."

Since everyone knows that a party isn't a party without Emperor Helldawg V (and for good reason), he decided that he must attend to, you know, make it a party. But in order to get to the party, he had to fly there. Now, his personal staff was on coffee break when he recieved word of the party, and he REALLY didn't want to bother them (last time he did that, things blew up...), so he decided he would have to fly himself down there.

Within a few minutes, he was in the cockpit of his uberly futurstic transport of DOOM, which then took off and travelled at near-orbital altitude at approximately mach 20. Now, a normal person would probably be crushed or at least pass out at such speeds, but not the Emperor. He was just that crazy.

As he neared the party, he pushed the big button labeled 'EJECT' and was shot downwards out of the cockpit. He traveled head first going down, gaining more and more speed as he went down, eventualy breaking the sound barrier. Normally he'd be dead from this, but he didn't die. Meh.

So then, as he neared the ground, silly ole' him realized he had once again forgotten his parachute. Big surprise there. Soon enough, he went crashing through the roof head first, smashing through several floors (and passing through the women's bathroom), and eventualy landing in the basement with a big 'thud'.

He casualy stood up, walked up the stairs, and opened the door into the party, followed by a massive cloud of dust.

"Bring me booze, damnit!" he yelled to the first servant to cross his path.

OOC:
Lemme see if I can't do this right, again...

IC:

Caster walked into the room, stylin his glittery red outfit. He snapped his fingers, and a disco ball appeared over his head, with music, lights shining everywhere off of it. Even though this defied all existance, he did it.

Soon, anyone would find him gettin' down and funky wit it, doin the Disco dance one hundred times over. His glittery red outfit shinning into everyones eyes!

Since everyone knows that a party isn't a party without Emperor Helldawg V (and for good reason), he decided that he must attend to, you know, make it a party. But in order to get to the party, he had to fly there. Now, his personal staff was on coffee break when he recieved word of the party, and he REALLY didn't want to bother them (last time he did that, things blew up...), so he decided he would have to fly himself down there.

Within a few minutes, he was in the cockpit of his uberly futurstic transport of DOOM, which then took off and travelled at near-orbital altitude at approximately mach 20. Now, a normal person would probably be crushed or at least pass out at such speeds, but not the Emperor. He was just that crazy.

As he neared the party, he pushed the big button labeled 'EJECT' and was shot downwards out of the cockpit. He traveled head first going down, gaining more and more speed as he went down, eventualy breaking the sound barrier. Normally he'd be dead from this, but he didn't die. Meh.

So then, as he neared the ground, silly ole' him realized he had once again forgotten his parachute. Big surprise there. Soon enough, he went crashing through the roof head first, smashing through several floors (and passing through the women's bathroom), and eventualy landing in the basement with a big 'thud'.

He casualy stood up, walked up the stairs, and opened the door into the party, followed by a massive cloud of dust.

"Bring me booze, damnit!" he yelled to the first servant to cross his path.

Gordon said, "I second that!?"

Melissa said, "ME here! Bring me a Cuba Libre!"

Victoria said, "Can I?"

Gordon said, "What the hell."

Victoria then smiled, and put on her Cute Asian Girl face, saying, "Hey Mister, bring me six shots of Jim Beam, stat!"

The servant looked at the Imperator, he then slapped him. "Hey, who do you think you are?! I ain't getting booze for you! I will free myself from my chains of oppresiion, I will rebel against the rich, I will- oh Emperor! Oh crap! Oh... I'll get your booze..." He then looked at the Lews. "Okay... I'll get your stuff too."

He turned towards another butler. "Get me a dead Fidel, six drunken whiteys, and horse piss!"

Sergei then turned got on the microphone. "Welcome on the Playa Hater's Ball of 2012! I'm glad we have so many people! Ugly stupid people eh? Ha ha ha! Anyway, I see we have commies and imperials all here! Now then, who wishes to insult everything they see first?!"

The servant looked at the Imperator, he then slapped him. "Hey, who do you think you are?! I ain't getting booze for you! I will free myself from my chains of oppresiion, I will rebel against the rich, I will- oh Emperor! Oh crap! Oh... I'll get your booze..." He then looked at the Lews. "Okay... I'll get your stuff too."

He turned towards another butler. "Get me a dead Fidel, six drunken whiteys, and horse piss!"

Sergei then turned got on the microphone. "Welcome on the Playa Hater's Ball of 2012! I'm glad we have so many people! Ugly stupid people eh? Ha ha ha! Anyway, I see we have commies and imperials all here! Now then, who wishes to insult everything they see first?!"

The disco ball stops spinning.

"I do! But I can't think of anything!"

Goes back to disco dancing, the ball spinning, lights flashing, music flaring.

The servant looked at the Imperator, he then slapped him. "Hey, who do you think you are?! I ain't getting booze for you! I will free myself from my chains of oppresiion, I will rebel against the rich, I will- oh Emperor! Oh crap! Oh... I'll get your booze..." He then looked at the Lews. "Okay... I'll get your stuff too."

He turned towards another butler. "Get me a dead Fidel, six drunken whiteys, and horse piss!"

Sergei then turned got on the microphone. "Welcome on the Playa Hater's Ball of 2012! I'm glad we have so many people! Ugly stupid people eh? Ha ha ha! Anyway, I see we have commies and imperials all here! Now then, who wishes to insult everything they see first?!"

Melissa then began talking, saying, "I do. I'll start with that suit of yours. Do they make those for men?"

Sergei smirked. "Yeah, they do. I bet you got those breasts from the 99 cent store too."

Mustapha grinned with an evil flash of the teeth as waved off the young man. The Rosians were deemed "neutral", therefore, suitable for political weakening. The Collective Oligarchy's leadership had conjured a cunning plan during its long hours of cogitation and careful contemplation. The young man sent to undermine the Rosian leadership was only six years old, the same young man also possessed himself an extremely high pitched voice, the kind that shatters glass when he wants to screech something. The kind of voice that bores into your soul and drives you insane.

"Have fun Sergei!" Said Mustapha, his voice shrill with laughter as he turned away from the plane taking off from the tarmac.

*****

"YOYOYO NIGGAS! WHATS GOIN' DOWN BIATCH IN THIS PIMPIN' HOOD YOYOYO!" was the earpiercing screech that erupted from the lips of the six year old wannabe-gangster. He was the kind of pathetic bastard that referred to his white picket neighbourhood as his "ghetto, yoyoyo" and his apron wearing mother as his "hoe". Overall, this guy sucked so bad, he couldn't even spell it.

"I SAID WASSUP BITCHES! WHA'S GOIN' DOWN YOYOYO! <random screeching>" He popped a zit on his pallid complexion, that was another thing about the child, as you may have guessed: he thought he was black. The six year old screeching little pile o' turd, given a very "Gangster" name of "Robert", was going to have fun here at this party. Oh yes he was.

Sergei smirked. "Yeah, they do. I bet you got those breasts from the 99 cent store too."

Melissa then said, "I bet that's where you got your brains. What kinda insult is that? I've heard worse from a deaf dumb and blind monkey."

Melissa then said, "I bet that's where you got your brains. What kinda insult is that? I've heard worse from a deaf dumb and blind monkey."

The six year old only stared at Melissa. His eyes boring into her head before screaming in an insanely highpitched voice but a few wise words: "YOU WANNA GO DOUCHEBAG? COME ON! LETS GO!"

Of course, a six year old putting his fists up and crying such evil words is extremely intimidating...

The six year old only stared at Melissa. His eyes boring into her head before screaming in an insanely highpitched voice but a few wise words: "YOU WANNA GO DOUCHEBAG? COME ON! LETS GO!"

Of course, a six year old putting his fists up and crying such evil words is extremely intimidating...

Melissa then said, "Is it a custom to nose into other people's business where ya come from? Think its tiem to give ye a wicked punishment."

She then put up her fists and said, "Gimme what ya got, peanutboy."

The Emperor quickly grabbed a large jug of whisky from the servant, who had promptly served him upon realizing who he was. He brought it up to his lips and seemed to inhale the liquid, finishing it in a little less than five seconds. As the sweet alchohol began to take effect, a big smile came across the face of the Emperor, who drunkenly swaggered over to his old buddy, Sergei,

"HEYyy....I remember you...*hic*!"

He slowly turned his head, looking at the people around him. He nearly jumped up at the sight at the tiny Kreigo.

"GODDAMNIT! WHO LET THE F*CKIN' SQUIRREL OUT OF IT'S CAGE!" he shouted before running over to the nearest window and leaping out. Buisiness as usual.

"Fo' sho biatch, you are FAT yoyoyo! Do I need to get my posse on you foo'?" The hideous child waited a few moments for his "posse" to appear. Thank god, it never came, so he switched his tactics.

"Yeah' bitch, you aint [b]worth it! <screeching>" The child then runs off to chase the man from Doomingsland who dares defy the hardcore presence of "Robert", leaping out hte window, the ghoul like wannabe-gangster calls everyone "a bunch of whack wannabe homies", before dissappearing after the Doominsland Emperor.

"Fo' sho biatch, you are FAT yoyoyo! Do I need to get my posse on you foo'?" The hideous child waited a few moments for his "posse" to appear. Thank god, it never came, so he switched his tactics.

"Yeah' bitch, you aint [b]worth it! <screeching>" The child then runs off to chase the man from Doomingsland who dares defy the hardcore presence of "Robert", leaping out hte window, the ghoul like wannabe-gangster calls everyone "a bunch of whack wannabe homies", before dissappearing after the Doominsland Emperor.

Melissa said, "That's right, ya little runt! Go home to mommy!"

She then drank her Cuba Libre and said, "Damn that's good."

Vicky then said, "Wow, mom, good job..."

Only a few minutes later the Emperor appeared at the front door, holding the annoying little child by his head with one arm as if he were weightless. He casualy strode through the door, a big grin on his face. A servant passed by, and he grabbed him with his free hand,

"HEY, SLAVE!" he yelled in the poor man's ear quite obnoxiously, "Cook this here *hic* squirrel for me!" he yelled, shoving the child towards him, "It tastes REALLLL gooood *hic*!" he said right into the man's face, his alchohol-smelling breath causing the sevant to cringe

Only a few minutes later the Emperor appeared at the front door, holding the annoying little child by his head with one arm as if he were weightless. He casualy strode through the door, a big grin on his face. A servant passed by, and he grabbed him with his free hand,

"HEY, SLAVE!" he yelled in the poor man's ear quite obnoxiously, "Cook this here *hic* squirrel for me!" he yelled, shoving the child towards him, "It tastes REALLLL gooood *hic*!" he said right into the man's face, his alchohol-smelling breath causing the sevant to cringe

Vicky then said, "Mom....stay out." She could see Melissa eager for a fight or for a cheer.

Gordon then said, "Come on....can't we just spank the brat?"

All of a sudden fireworks appeared out of nowhere and Richard Simmons entered the room making everybody wants to do exercise! Woo! Go Richard Simmons, but I'm not gay... not that there's anything wrong with that. Well there is, I mean... it's so weird. Whatever.


Do you really want this to happen at your Party



http://kev.needham.ca/whafa/whoseline-simmons.wmv

"Sir, there's a party on. Shall we engage the tactical alcohol bombardment systems?"

"No, general. These pitiful, unadvanced creatures who know nothing of us will feel the pain of my presence, the coolness of my dance-floor moves, and the unlimitability of my alcohol supplies!

MUAHAHAHAHAHAH!"

The weird, six-limbed alien ruled six star systems, had unlimited access to resources, had his own fleet for traversing the stars, and, of course, his very own time machine.

"Ima think we move back through time, and gatecrash the party!"

"B-but sir! You're causing the possibility of a paradox, and the end of all space-time"

At this point, the six-limbed alien smirked, and spoke, slowly, in a voice filled with sarcasm.

"Oooh! I thought I heard a voice, but it was questioning my judgement, so it must not have existed!"

With this, he jumped into the psychodelically-coloured police box, and pressed a few buttons, the ship disappearing in a puff of smoke, which was so unlikely it killed several million innocent puppies, mainly because Jorgar liked fried puppies!


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

A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. Sergei's place.

The evil Homie Kid rules over people's minds and hearts, and only the
Squirrel-Emperor can stop him. Lots of weird shit is happening, and
many people are freaked out. Welcome, to the Age of Chaos!

(OOC note: I like to rip off as many franchises as I can!)

The weirdly-coloured, fluctuating police box appeared in the middle of the dance floor, followed by the emergence of a huge, 9-foot tall alien with four arms, which walked on its hind-legs, with huge pincers, a constant hissing sound emanating from his tentacled mouth, and a small paper hat on his head, saying "I am a friendly member of your species. Do not be afraid, or I will kill you."

He looks up, and says, in a hiss louder than anything heard so far "DID I HHHEEAR THHHAT SOMEONE WAS CCCOOKING A SSSSQUIRREL?"

With these words, he rummages in his police box, and pulls out a Star-Trek style phaser. He hands it to the Emperor, who would probably be noticing the multiple settings on it:

Stun
Disintergrate
Kill
Bake
Roast
Fry
Cauterize
Reheat

He smiles, a horrid drip of blue ichor falling from his face, and he casually rips the head off a screaming person, and then arranges their corpse casually, and sits down on it, like nothing has happened...

Emperor Antonius the Magnificent, once sovereign lord of Generia, was now dead. Very dead. Very, very, very dead. However, a little thing like that was not going to stop him from making an appearance at Sergei's party, not with the help of dark voodoo magic.

And so it was that an old, drunken gypsy set about to bring Antonius back from the dead so that he could once again drink, screw, and be merry, albeit in the form of a walking corpse. A cold wind howled and whipped through the stone catacombs as the drunken gypsy mumbled incoherently, flailing his arms about and occasionally collapsing. Then the clouds began to swirl and a thick black fog seeped into the burial chamber. Suddenly, the sweet chords of Paradise City filled the room and the fog parted, revealing a swirling black portal from which inhuman groans drifted. The gypsy grinned, knowing his work was complete, and promptly urinated on one of the walls of the chamber.

The sound of a heavy footstep came behind him and he turned to stare straight into the stretched, discolored skin of Antonius...the zombie. Utterly freaked out, the gypsy shrieked and ran into the same wall he had just relieved himself on, knocking himself unconscious.

Antonius coughed to clear his partially decayed lungs and looked around.

"Who dares summon me to this place?! Seriously, it smells like piss in here."

He turned his one remaining eye on the unconscious body, and grinned.

"Django. I always told you not to use black magic to resurrect my corpse."

Antonius reached down with a skeletal hand and picked up the brown paper bag that rested on top of a nearby memorial statue. He raised it to his black lips and took a swig, letting the liquid run down his throat, seeping through at places and spouting out through holes in his decayed skin. He cast the bottle aside and wiped his mouth.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Antonius is back in town."

With that he walked out of the mausoleum, and flagged down a cab, telling the shocked driver to take him straight to the Imperial airport. He had a flight to catch.

Somehow, Caster Oblivion still had on his stylin red-glittery suit on, his wide glittery red had, and black shoes that slid across the dance floor, or whatever was there. Somehow, this annoying Funkster still danced the Disco-Dance, starting over as the Disco-Ball twirled above his head, sheding a Groovy light over his stylin Disco Funk.

"You can't touch the Funksta. I'm still Groovy, Baby!"

He slid acorss the floor, moon-walking near every other person, the Disco-Ball following him everywheree. Music from an era long past thumped out, and he started dancing again.

"Groovy, baaaaby!"

Somehow, Caster Oblivion still had on his stylin red-glittery suit on, his wide glittery red had, and black shoes that slid across the dance floor, or whatever was there. Somehow, this annoying Funkster still danced the Disco-Dance, starting over as the Disco-Ball twirled above his head, sheding a Groovy light over his stylin Disco Funk.

"You can't touch the Funksta. I'm still Groovy, Baby!"

He slid acorss the floor, moon-walking near every other person, the Disco-Ball following him everywheree. Music from an era long past thumped out, and he started dancing again.

"Groovy, baaaaby!"

Victoria then began dancing herself, doing the Robot very well, and busting out some of her own disco moves.

The child fumed at the presence of the new aliens and at the fact he was being held by the scruff of the neck by the Doomslandian Emperor. The kid was pissed and he was going to let everyone know by utlising his knowledge of how to insult pretty much every group in one sentence. So he started to take in breath and then...

"LET ME GO YOU FUCKIN' ****** CHINK PAKI ARAB MUSLIM CHRISTIAN WHITE AS TOOTHPASTE NAZI COMMIE JEWISH LIBERAL FASCIST CONSERVATE RIGHTWING LEFTIE FUCKING FUCK FACE YOYOYOYO!"

This kid, did indeed, suck to the max.

Groovy Funksat hears about this whining brat, and doesn't like it one bit. He swore if that kid yelled again, he turn into a Soviet Badass and start kicking some butt. But, either way, Oblivion looks at Victoria, giving a wide smile.

"Groovy..."

He moonwalks his way over, his shiny red outfit glittering the Disco Ball revolving around his head. He started doin some more Groovy Disco Dances.

"You got it, bbaaabbbay!"

Groovy Funksat hears about this whining brat, and doesn't like it one bit. He swore if that kid yelled again, he turn into a Soviet Badass and start kicking some butt. But, either way, Oblivion looks at Victoria, giving a wide smile.

"Groovy..."

He moonwalks his way over, his shiny red outfit glittering the Disco Ball revolving around his head. He started doin some more Groovy Disco Dances.

"You got it, bbaaabbbay!"

Victoria then executed a perfect Charlie's Angels-hair swish, and said, "Thanks."

She then began doing more dancing, pulling out some more groovy dances, including a few grinds and the Worm.

Victoria then executed a perfect Charlie's Angels-hair swish, and said, "Thanks."

She then began doing more dancing, pulling out some more groovy dances, including a few grinds and the Worm.

Caster almost lost his groove! Not groovey at all!

He slid his hand across the edge of his glittery hat, giving a nod to Victora.

"No problem at all, Baabay. Your moves match the Funksta's!"

Probably even better, but yet, he still grooved to the beat. Dancing again and doing all kinds of crazy moves, including spinning on the floor.