UNNAMED PORNO FANFIC XXXIX: Part Two, "A Convenient Solution" and Part Three, "Academia Nut Kick Ass Guest Chapter"
Las Vegas, Nevada (Early in the morning hours ofSeptember 19th 2007)
A drunken, stumbling, and decidedly broke Shep tried to make his way as quietly as he could along the exterior of the motel towards the door that would lead to his room. Briefly he considering chewing on some dirt or one of the nearby bushes in the landscaping to erase the alcohol from his breath, thinking he might be able to lie and claim that he was mugged. But deep down he knew that even if he were sober, Zaia would still see through the lie and cut him down. At least he could spare what remained of his dignity by confessing.
He reached into his pocket for the key, but moving his arm caused him to lose his balance and he faceplanted into the cracked concrete of the poorly maintained walkway. He lifted his head, and he saw himself standing in front of him, so incredibly inebriated that he was having an out of body experience.
"Hey, sober up you fucking shit." He yelled at himself, or perhaps himself yelled it at he? You see, these paradoxes create terrible confusions in the time space continuum, and sometimes a narrator such as myself ends up writing about things in the first person. I've represented a disembodied voice this entire series, and now i'm taking on a life of my own.
See what happens when you violate the laws of casualty? Anyways, back to our story...
"Hey sober up you fucking shit." The incredibly realistic apparation of Sheppard said to himself, Shep patted his hands on his chest and realized he wasn't having an out of body experience, but the experience was far too vivid for a hallucination.
"Okay, I know what you're thinking right now. I know because I was the one that originally thought it. You're really hammered, but you need to listen good right now for no other reason aside from the fact that it will save your life."
Drunk Shep immediately listened up, even if his evil (or perhaps good?) twin was freaking him out to no end, the possibility of preserving his manhood was too good to pass up.
"Listen, i'm you from the future. Any other time in your life and that statement sounds like complete bullshit, but right now you're the dumbfuck from the 24th century stranded in the past with a woman not even born on this planet hoping to one day go back to the future and cruise around on his refitted alien spaceship. So right now, YES you are not fucking crazy."
Future Shep then tossed the suitcase at Drunken Shep. "There's about two hundred fifty grand in there in the local currency, it's enough to rent a very nice apartment for a year and eat well. Oh yeah, i'd set aside a few thousand though for "emergency expenses."
Drunken Shep hiccuped, and fought back vertigo and nausea as he stood back up. "What kind of emergency expenses?"
Future Shep cringed. "That you wouldn't believe."
"Wait," Drunken Shep interrupted. "Why should we even be having this discussion, you obviously have the time machine, give it to me now and this whole nightmare is over!"
"Because," Future Shep said, "leaving you here with this money is the only way that you will ever hook up with HER." He said, pointing at the door of the hotel room with Zaia inside.
Drunken Shep looked at the suitcase, shocked into a greater level of sobriety by the news. Trapped in time, in a more primitive era no less, for a year on a fixed income, was it worth but one night with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen?
It didn't even take him a heartbeat to answer. "Alright have fun! I guess i'll be back here myself to tell the next me to do what you told me now to ....uhhh tell...uh"
Future Shep held his hands in his head. "Sweet fucking Jesus I can't believe I was this goddamn retarded." He thought for a second, as if pondering something before saying his goodbye. "Don't forget when you get in there to call her sugar daddy okay? All right I gotta run, oh, and you will be very sorely tempted to take that money and run back to the Casino, DO NOT DO IT."
Drunken Shep just waved goodbye and sat down on the ground, attempting to regain his breath by sitting down on the ground next to the suitcase. When Future Shep was out of sight Drunken Shep grabbed the suitcase, looked around and started walking in the opposite direction, making his way right back for the Casino. Without warning, from behind a nearby bush, Future Shep returned and planted a steel toed boot right in Drunken Shep's nuts.
"YOU STUPID ASS HUFFING JACKED UP SHIT SUCKING IDIOT! WHAT DID I FUCKING TELL YOU?" After planting the kick Future Shep turned and started yelling off into the distance , "All right Falk it worked this time let's get the fuck out of here!"
Indeed the plan did work, Drunken Shep crawled to the front door and pulled himself back up to his feet and used his key to unlock the hotel room door, hoping that he would go unnoticed
"YOU SLIMY FUCK!" Zaia screamed as his attempt at stealth failed miserably.
Las Vegas, Nevada (September 18th, 2008)
"I can't fucking believe that you did that, I appreciate it, but I still cannot believe that you would risk altering the timeline, or worse yet destroying everything in past, present, and future just so you could cover your ass after you got drunk and lost all of our money in a Casino!" Zaia said as the one true Sheppard climbed into the passenger seat of the Time machine, with Falk at the helm and Zaia cradling the baby Marina in the back. "Oh, and we really should have a safety seat for her. After we figure out what the gnomes have done and fix everything she and I are going to..."
Zaia was interrupted by a short laugh from Falkenhorst, which drew a sharp stare from Zaia. "I don't see what's so funny about safety considerations for an infant you prick!"
"Oh it's not that," Falk said, still grinning. "What's funny is that you think your kid is going back with you to our time."
"I'd ask you to explain your statement, but I since you are driving I don't want you saying anything that would force me to drive a knife into the back of your skull with the blade coming out between your eyes and spreading chunks of bone and what little gray matter you might have all over the controls."
"You can go right ahead, that will be a lot easier to explain that how it was you had a child while trying to preserve the timeline, I know how Zeon leadership works, you think that because you did something heroic they are going to overlook the fact that you had a one-night stand with a flesh-peddling smutlord because you were drunk and he managed to violate casualty in order to give himself $250,000? You Zeek Chicks are so bent up on your laws against unregulated heterosexual sex that they might clone you just so they can kill you again. Lying won't work either with the interrogation techniques that i'm sure you know. Face it, going through with this mission is the WORST thing you can do to you and your kid. I say we go back, collect a little more cash and set ourselves up as fuckin' kings in an earlier time before every interstellar STD of a species figures out where Earth is and this entire planet goes fucking pinko."
Zaia looked over at Shep, who was far from disagreeing, having buried his head in his hands trying not to think about it. "But...the Duchess, she's my mother! Well nto my birth mother, but she could...." But her own memories put that thought aside, memories of being held to a far higher standard than everyone else, including adherence to the strict policies of the Zeon Code of Law.
Shep broke the silence. "Falk, take us to one of the years in the early 24th century, I don't care which one. We'll leave her off here on Earth and she can grow up in a good home on the government's dime, and then when she's older she'll be around to see Zeon get founded, then her mom can meet her one day and she doesn't have to know what I do and I won't have to leave anything for her in my will, I mean errrrr...uhhh...evidence of her heritage in my will."
Shep expected Zaia to argue against the idea, and he half expected Falk to object to running another errand and wasting their time running around, but the silence returned and nobody objected.
Time Unknown, Location Unknown
THE FOLLOWING PORTION OF THIS CHAPTER WAS WRITTEN BY ACADEMIA NUT AND IS BEING PRESERVED IN FULL FOR YOUR READING PLEASURE. IT IS A CROSSOVER WITH THE "OPEN DOOR" UNIVERSE AND IS CONSIDERED PART OF UPF CANON.
Fanboy clutched at his head, groaning for a moment before he sent out a probative hand to find the one thing guaranteed to cure his hangover. A bit of fumbling later and he had the bottle of twenty year old premium Jack Daniels to his lips. Ah, sweet, sweet liquor, cure to all ills.
So revived, Fanboy looked up and about the detritus about him and discovered that he couldn’t remember what exactly he’d been doing. Lighting a blunt to clear his head, he sat down, half empty bottle of whisky in one hand and a slowly burning bundle of paper and marijuana in the other and he assumed the ‘Stoned Philosopher’ look as he tried to dredge up the still hidden memories.
“Pizza!” He suddenly cried out. “I left the party to go get pizza, but those asshole Romans hadn’t invented it yet!”
Sometimes the way you could really get yourself lost if piloting while inebriated really outweighed the convenience of a time machine. Checking over the gauges, Fanboy realized he didn’t have a clue when or where he was. He didn’t even know if he was in the normal confines of the multiverse.
“Piece of crap,” Fanboy muttered while smacking the completely un-enlightening instruments.
Mentioning bodily excretions did however remind Fanboy of the copious amounts of liquid he had consumed the previous night, so taking another swig from his JD before he set it down on a stack of rolling papers a foot high, he sauntered over to the TARDASS’ bathroom.
One look inside had him exiting at a considerably higher speed than he had arrived at.
Inhaling a long, hard drag on his blunt to help banish the smell, he muttered, “Right… going to need to hold a plumber and a crack team of illegal immigrant Mexican maids at gunpoint for that one.”
He made a mental note: next time he ran into a guy with simultaneous twin and obesity fetishes, he would also check for coprophilic urges as well so he could put the fucker out of the universe’s misery right then and there.
Still, while he would have to watch himself and make sure he didn’t slip and go to bed sober for the next month or the horrors he seen within that bathroom would haunt his dreams, he did still have the rather pressing need to piss.
Glancing at the environmental sensors, he noted that if he stepped outside he wouldn’t immediately die or have something likely to bite his dick off, so with a shrug he said, “Fuck it,” and opened the door.
Stepping out of his TARDASS, he glanced about and discovered that the phone booth shaped time machine had landed somewhere wooded and quiet at night. Glancing about, he walked over to a nearby bush, tucked his blunt behind his ear, and unzipped.
However, as glorious relief began to stream, he noted with some dismay that he heard screaming from somewhere else in the woods nearby. It sounded young and feminine and of the ‘oh help I’m about to be ravished by a tentacle monster’ sort of scream. Sighing, Fanboy finished off, zipped back up, and then went out to examine what was going on.
Moving relatively quietly through the woods, he discovered a small clearing where… where well a young, nubile woman in a school girl outfit was being ravished by a tentacle monster. Well… half tentacle monster. The creature looked mostly human except for the fact that his arms were bundles of extremely long and flexible tentacles, except instead of suckers he had dozens of little human mouths on each one. Currently he had his victim wrapped up like some sort of rope fetish doll and pinned against a tree, her legs wide open to admit his thrusting, surprisingly non-prehensile cock. His little mouths were also spreading a copious amount of droll over her body as they licked and suckled and bit at her sensitive spots, although judging by the thin welts the tentacles could also function as whips. It would also occasionally shut the girl up by plunging a tentacle or two, often wet from penetrating another orifice, down her mouth, but once she could breath again she would inevitably wail like a banshee.
Not one to let shit like this fly, especially since tentacle rape tended to make the victims super horny for their saviors afterward for some logic defying reason, Fanboy decided to interrupt this little moment by charging in.
In retrospect, trying to grapple with a creature that grappled its enemies and raped them probably wasn’t the greatest of strategies, but hey, in his defense, Fanboy was incredibly high and it seemed like a good idea at the time.
Rather started, the tentacle monster dropped his victim and turned to get the rather large, rather inebriated man off of him. Despite the ability to tie up and support off the ground the struggling girl, the finger thin appendages were no match for Fanboy’s superior strength and combat training, and with surprise on his side, Fanboy quickly had the monster pinned to the ground, his hands about its throat.
Then the element of surprise turned on him when he got a rather large tree branch, more of a leafy club really, across the back of the head. The girl, her underwear still about one of her ankles and her shirt still completely unbuttoned, started whaling on Fanboy while crying out, “Get the fuck off my boyfriend!”
Fanboy had just enough time to look confused before he blacked out from a minor concussion.
He woke a short time later to a hand smelling rather strongly of feminine secretions smacking him over the face. His eyes flickering open, he stared up at the ‘tentacle monster’, who now that he had his tentacles wound into a tight bundle that acted like a rather flexible arm, looked remarkably like a rather frightened young man.
“Hey man, you okay? Cathy hit you over the head pretty hard,” the kid asked. He glanced over, and Fanboy’s gaze followed to see the girl, still half dressed and with all the parts that were supposed to stay hidden still in plain view, with a distinctly miffed look on her face.
“What just happened?” Fanboy asked, his head still ringing from the unexpected blows.
“Well, you interrupted me just before I got my girlfriend to climax, so now its going to take me an hour to get her back there as she’s kinda pissed now, and she expended all that orgasm mojo in hitting you over the head. Why’d you do that man?” The guy asked.
“Do what?” Fanboy asked, still trying to put two and two together and not get duck.
“Attack us while we were getting it on? Come on man, you don’t get the tentacles unless the gods like you and they don’t put up with rapist fucks,” the guy said.
“Why the screaming? And what gods?” Fanboy asked, the ringing finally starting to fade enough that he could try and prop himself up.
“Man Cathy, you must have nearly added him to the throne you hit him so hard! Come on man, don’t be dense, any girl who likes to play with a dude like me is gonna be into the kinky stuff. Cathy likes the role play and she’s practically bound to a banshee she’s such a screamer anyway,” the guy explained.
“So I just broke up consensual sex between a schoolgirl and a guy with prehensile tentacle arms… alright, I think I need a drink,” Fanboy groaned as he discovered that he was still getting three as an answer to the square of two.
“Sure man. Come on Cathy; let’s buy the dude a beer. I don’t think he meant any harm even if he was an idiot,” the kid asked his girlfriend.
She turned up her nose and said, “He drinks, you fuck! My pussy’s all tight with anger and I need it loosened up!”
He extended out one of his rather long tentacle arms to where she was standing and started playing with her clit while his little mouths made slurping noises.
“Yes dear,” he said with a smile.
Fanboy really needed that drink.
About five minutes later and the three of them, Fanboy leaning on the tentacle guy, whose name turned out to be Tyler, while he tried to clear his head and get his full balance back. Cathy seemed like the kind of girl who really needed a good fucking to pound the bitch out of her if that was how she hit normally. She seemed content to half kiss half suck on one of his tentacles while they walked, and while she had pulled up her underwear, her ample rack was still on display.
Fanboy had to give Tyler credit in that while his girlfriend was a needy bitch, at least he had fine taste in picking a bitch.
Walking down a quiet road on the outskirts of what looked like a thin suburban area around a major high tech metropolis, massive towers glowing with gold and silver light and twinkling with every color of the rainbow in the distance, Fanboy finally had the presence to ask, “So how did you get those things in the first place? Were you uh… always like that?”
“What? My tentacles? Nah, I got them as a gift for impressing Mislaato in a Tzintchian ‘Fuck-Off Duel’,” Tyler explained.
Fanboy stared at him blankly.
“Cathy, you really hit this guy hard. Okay man; let’s see if I can jog your memory. A Tzintchian Fuck-Off Duel is a kind of duel where the objective is to piss off the other guy to the point where he meets the failure conditions. So anyway, this big Asukhon fucker decides that he doesn’t like how I make my money so he gets out and challenges me to a duel. I accept and declare that it shall be in Tzintchi’s name with Mislaato overseeing, which is to say that instead of directly fighting, we plot and scheme until one of us uses the safe word, which in this case was ‘Fuck off you fucking bastard!’. Well… not exactly, but that was the point where everyone agreed he lost,” Tyler explained, half the words going over Fanboy’s head, but he just nodded as if he understood.
“So anyway, the fucker’s all with the petty pranks as I think he invested everything into his fighting prowess and not much else. I get hit a couple of times, things like having a case of cement dropped on me and breaking a shoulder, or the toilet bowl rigged with a hydrochloric acid bomb, but nothing permanent. Me though, I’m clever. I get his sister, his girlfriend, and his mom to all agree to wear gimp masks and bondage rope and nothing else while I fuck them up the ass on the steps of city hall and hold up a sign that says ‘Fuck you Petrov’ for ever bystander and the local news to see. Mislaato was so impressed she gave me the tentacles as soon as I won. It was awesome,” Tyler explained.
Pulling the tentacle out of her mouth, and throat judging by the length she had down there, Cathy said, “I was part of the orgy that celebrated his victory and trying out his new enhancements. We hit it off after that. He’s like a fucking machine now.”
Fanboy just sort of gaped in awe. He needed to know more about these guys, they sounded either insane and/or completely and utterly awesome.
“So what other kinds of duels are their?” Fanboy asked.
“One for each god and one set of victory conditions for each god, plus reversed conditions, for thirty-two different varieties, although most of those aren’t used. There’s Tzintchian Fuck-Off Duels, which are matching wits; then there’s Mislaati Fuck Duels which are basically a grappling contests; then you have Asukhonate Weapons Duels, which are where you try and hurt your opponents with sharp and pointy things; and then you have Reiglish Endurance Duel which is either a long distance race or two people taking turns punching each other, sometimes both. The conditions depend on which god you request to observe. With Mislaato, it’s until someone yields; with Asukhon, it’s until first blood; with Reigle, it’s until knockout; with Tzintchi, it’s to death, and sometimes beyond. You need legal permission to have Tzintchi observe duels as they tend to turn into riots, terrorist campaigns, or vendettas quickly. You can also reverse the conditions, like the first person to draw blood loses. Tzintchian Fuck-Off Duels are always normally reversed as the point is to piss off your foe to the point where they break the condition, but you can play them straight,” Tyler explained.
Fanboy was only sort of half listening as other people were starting to appear on the streets, and not only did Tyler look normal, but Cathy looked modest. There were guys walking around with pricks on display that looked like the belonged to ancient fertility gods, and girls that looked slutty enough to get double penetrated by those ridiculous cocks. There was a guy who looked like he’d been dead and left in a dark damp place for quite some time as he had mushrooms growing on the rot, while a chick with excessive scarring, dreadlocks full of glass and rusty nails and whole human skulls as part of a belt leaned into him and had her hand down his pants.
There were also ordinary looking people walking around doing ordinary looking things, except that some of them were also publicly having sex or other strange things. Not just vanilla sex, there was bondage and a whippings and spankings and doing lines of drugs off of asses. Hetero, homo, bi, ones, twos, and threes, there was every sort of depravity going on. But no one cared, they just stepped around the participants, who usually had the decency to move off to the side of the streets in any case, and it just seemed like a normal day to everyone.
How anyone got anything done was a question that rattled about Fanboy’s head while he also tried to figure out if he wanted to burn this place to the ground or ask for an application form.
“Here’s the bar,” Tyler said while pulling open a door to a boxy little building that didn’t seem to have any noticeable signs that Fanboy understood indicated it was a place to get liquor.
Looking inside, Fanboy discovered a place that appeared like it a strip club designed by H.R. Giger. The place was dark and smoky with burning drugs and there were dozens of little booths where topless women- and some men with really nice racks- in gimp masks lounged with what appeared to be large dildos on the ends of pipes connected to the ceiling surrounded their heads. Occasionally one of the loungers would unzip their masks, reach up and suck off one or more of the dildos. Meanwhile people would suck on the tits of the loungers while not otherwise busy fucking each other or doing drugs.
It was all rather strange and twisted to Fanboy’s perspective, but he didn’t exactly argue.
Tyler and Cathy led him to a table where a particular strange woman had curled up. Literally. She didn’t have legs, she had a lower serpentine body complete with scales and then intentional scarring to simulate the appearance of scales up her back and sides. She was also idly playing with herself while waiting for… something.
Muttering, “Fuck it,” Cathy lay face down on the table before thrusting her hips up and pulling down her underwear, with Tyler immediately penetrating her. Lying there, she said to the snake woman, “Hey Natty, how’s life?”
The snake woman just shrugged nonchalantly, the entire scenario obviously utterly mundane to her.
“Well this fucker we dragged in with us decided to interrupt us about thirty seconds before climax, but it looks like he got amnesia sometime before or after I whacked him on the head so we agreed to buy him a beer. Well before he gets one I’m gonna need a round to loosen up my cunt again. The usual please,” Cathy demanded before tossing a bill of some sort into a bucket filled with other such bills and coins.
Nodding, the snake woman unzipped the mouth of her gimp mask and reached up to begin sucking off one of the ribbed, alien wang dildos, which contained sort of liquid as Fanboy could see stuff flowing through the translucent, neon illuminated pipes this close up. She then thrust her tits in Cathy’s face and in turn Cathy started sucking on one of the snake woman’s nipples.
Fanboy had to admit, a girl in a schoolgirl outfit lying on a table sucking off a gimp mask snake woman’s tits while her tentacles for arms boyfriend fucked her was pretty hot, but it didn’t bring any understanding to him.
“What the…?” Fanboy demanded.
“Have you been stuck in the woods since the first Tangday?” Tyler asked while he continued to thrust into Cathy’s pussy and have his tentacles play with her tits.
“Uhhh… just bear with me here. What’s going on?” Fanboy asked.
“The beer comes from the tits. All the waitresses here have special breast implants that turn their knockers into miniature chemical plants. They can rapidly synthesize the materials they ingest into just about anything, and in this case they produce alcoholic beverages right from the nipple,” Tyler explained.
Finishing up, Cathy exhaled happily before wiping some foam off her lips and patting the breast before her fondly.
Fanboy was quiet as the implications dawned and he asked, “What about other drinks?”
“Rum, vodka, flavored schnapps, whisky, rye, whatever you want, these girls can cook it up in about a minute. Although if you really want to see a show, they’re going to whip up some jizzpagne in about ten minutes. The owner of this place will suck off like fifty guys while getting whipped, wax dripped on her, and mild electric shocks applied to her pussy, asshole, and tits. She’ll then process all the spunk and add in the endorphins released by pain and make a sparkling wine out of it, then sell it off to the highest bidder. Girls who drink that stuff can fuck for days and have full body orgasms for hours,” Tyler explained while giving the thumbs up. Cathy seemed to smile at a fond memory.
“What about if you want your drink cold?” Fanboy asked tentatively.
Tyler shrugged and said, “Tell them. Their implants have temperature controls so you can get ice cold beer or hot cider if you want. You can also get a chilled glass if you want to relax for bit.”
“So you’re telling me I can get any alcoholic beverage I want straight from the tit?” Fanboy asked.
A single, joyous tear rolled down Fanboy’s cheek. He had found his holy land.
Fanboy clutched at his head, groaning for a moment before he sent out a probative hand to find the one thing guaranteed to cure his hangover. A bit of fumbling later and he had the bottle of twenty year old premium Jack Daniels to his lips. Ah, sweet, sweet liquor, cure to all ills.
…wait a second…
Fanboy jumped to his feet and ran over to the TARDASS controls. He wasn’t where he had last been.
“Noooooooooo!” Fanboy cried out in agony. Had it all been just a dream? Or worse, had he actually found such a heavenly place and then lost it?
The universe was a cruel, merciless bitch.
Author's note: end of AN's contribution, now all of the other chapters I write following it will suck in comparison :p.
Aboard the starship Fontaine's Folly, near the center of the Fanfic Galaxy
For the first time in his life, Prime Dalton knew failure. His home, the Fanfic Fortress of Solitude had fallen to the gnomish invasion, and was spitting out fire and flames as Prime Dalton's personal starliner turned escape vessel made its way through the cosmos.
"My Lord," yelled Dalton #86 "we're registering a very large neutrino build up in the Fortress' pulse capcitors! It could be a crossover!"
Prime Dalton nearly jumped out of his seat and double checked the reading on the instruments. "A crossover? between two universes? Now? But the Fortress is damaged and the space-time regulators have been demolished! A crossover now will lead to a...."
The eyes of everyone watching the carnage unfold went blind as the explosions destroyed the Fanfic Fortress of Solitude, The bright whitish green lights sparkled against the dark void of space in an elegant yet chaotic pattern that erased everything in its path from existance, including a small planetoid at the outskirts of the Fanfic System."
"Well fuck there goes Fantastica." Prime Dalton cursed. "I'll bet UPF is behind this, although what sick bastard willing to combine literary efforts with those cretins also deserves my wrath!
"But my lord, at least the explosion destroyed the gnomes! They'll never be able to recover the Indestructible Black Box of Restoration now! So long as we have that then we can restore everything to it's rightful place!"
Prime Dalton crossed his arms, feeling a sense of satisfaction for the first time in a long time. "Good, I do not want to be denied my luckdragon rides. Fetch the Indestructible Black Box from the ship's hold and we will begin celebrating our victory at once!"
"The ship's hold? It's not in there sir," yelled Dalton #411, "I did the whole manifest before we lifted off, there wasn't anything like that in there."
Prime Dalton became livid. "WELL WHO WAS SUPPOSED TO LOAD IT? BRING THEM TO ME!"
Dalton #86 coughed nervously. "Errr, I believe the movements and usage of the IBB are limited strictly to Dalton designated Prime."
"WELL THEN BRING ME THIS PRIME DALTON AT ONCE OR....orrr......ohhhhhhhh....."
"Sir, we've located the IBB!" said Dalton #6969, working feverishly at his sensor console. "It's right at the epicenter of that huge scary looking rift in space at the epicenter of the explosion which destroyed the old Fortress."
Prime Dalton turned around and slumped back into his chair. "Some days it just doesn't pay to be the omniscient immportal being in charge of amateur literature based off of established properties."
"If it's true that our species is alone in the universe, then I'd have to say that the universe aimed rather low and settled for very little."
-George Carlin (1937-2008)
"Have some of you Americans actually seen Football? Of course there are 0-0 draws but that doesn't make them any less exciting."
-Dr Roberts, with quite possibly the dumbest thing ever said in 10 years of SDNet.