Sunday, 25 January 2009

Ad Libbing

[We were bored out of our minds and started ad libbing. Surprisingly enough, we kept it clean. And since I have nothing else to do, I am posting it.]

Nik: Can all mothers kill joy?
Bharat: Yes. Its their one common talent.
Nik: I see. I need to get the fuck out of here.
Bharat: Take me with you.
Nik: Where to?
Bharat: We'll get out of the country and go our separate ways.
Nik: Sure.
Bharat: I'm headed to Turkey.
Nik: I'll go to Italy.
Bharat: You could sail from Turkey to Italy. Go to Sicily.
Nik: Yes. I could do that.
When do we leave? The sooner the better.
Bharat: Yes. How 'bout tonight?
Nik: Ok. Lemme get my socks and my towel. That's all I'll be needing.
Bharat: No wait, I think I should inform my girlfriend before I leave the country. It'd be the gallant thing to do, right?
Nik: Yes, it would. Go on then. Hurry up. We dont have all night.
Bharat: You know what, she's probably studying right now. I'll call her tomorrow. Let's leave
I got my staff and towel.
Nik: Ok then. We're off.
Bharat: Yes we are.
[off the rocker]
Nik: [that happened ages ago. This is a continuation of the same]
Which path do you reckon we should take?
Bharat: Throw your towel. Let it decide.
Nik: It landed hobbes up.
The forest?
Bharat: Yes.
Bharat: Had it been Calvin I'd have called for a space ship. But Hobbes is the forest.
Nik: Fair enough.
To the forrest!
Bugger, what about food?
Bharat: Berries.
Nik: Adequate?
We'll kill a few animals, all I need to do is tie this knife to my staff and we'll have a hunting spear.
Wait, did you get string?
Nik: Nope. Ivy?
Bharat: Yes, ivy.
Nik: We need hermit names.
Bharat: I'll be Cuchulainn.
You be Rimmugygr.
Nik: Works. Might scare the squirrels.
Bharat: Yes.
Nik: Hmm. We need to start a fire.
Bharat: My staff can be a torch too. Tie the towel to it, we'll set it on fire.
Nik: No! The towel is our hope for survival.
Bharat: My towel, it's special, it suffers no fire damage.
Nik: Fascinating staff you have Cuchulainn.
Bharat: Thank you, Rimmugygr.
We need to find you a staff.
Nik: I have socks. Don't require a staff.
Bharat: Chuck some stones and nails into your socks.
Nik: My socks are hardly ordinary. Don't need any rocks to make them hard.
Can be pleasurable.
Bharat: Ohhh, man socks
Nik: Yes, very manly indeed.
Bharat: Let's keep moving, I want to be out of the state by dawn
Nik: Let us eat first.
Bharat: Howbout venison?
Nik: Yes. I'll be back in a moment.
*Back with three dead squirrels*
I think I might have overdone it a bit.
Bharat: Nah, its perfect.
Nik: Ok. You need to cook yours?
I'll stick it in the torch for a bit
Ah! the fur is smoldering. Just right and succulent.
Nik: I think I'll have it raw though.
Bharat: Suitcherself.
We'd better be off now. As you said, out of the state by morning.
Bharat: [In Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha they give a viking funeral to a rat they killed.]
Yes, I'm sure my mum has the police looking for me
Nik: [lol. Gotta read that book.]
I'm sure my parents have the entire intelligence force after me.
Bharat: [Yes.]
Nik: Cuchulainn, be wary.
Bharat: Halt and stay silent.
Nik: I think I heard a bee.
Bharat: Thats a tribal warrior.
Nik: Bee warrior it be.
Bharat: These people communicate using bee sounds.
Nik: Ah, we can fool him by doing the same.
Bharat: No, lets kill him. My knife thirsts for blood.
Nik: And my socks for rigor mortis.
*Throws the knife*
*Kills the warrior*
*Lets the socks sit on the dead mans chest for a while*
Ok, They're both satisfied and tempered. We can go now.
Dawn approaches. We are close to the state boundary. We'll need a plan to circumvent the police. I'm certain, by now, they know our faces
Bharat: We kill them.
*Extinguishes the fire*
*Ties the knife to the staff with the towel*
*Prepares self with socks in either hand*
Bharat: With Gaebolg I will kill them all.
Nik: You take the left flank, I the right.
Bharat: Works.
*Yells the ancient Irish war cry and charges*
*Charges while singing Galway Bay*
Bharat: Ut ut ut ut ut.
No wait, that's Saxon. Meh, who cares.
*Throws Gaebolg*
*Gaebolg slices through the air and kills a dozen soldiers in one go*
*Chokes a few men with her socks*
*Makes a few dozen sniff them*
*Kills the rest with his towel*
*Retrieves towel and kills another dozen*
Nik: All dead.
Bharat: High five!
*Stares at Bharat*
Cuchulainn, you're a friggin hermit.
Bharat: Oh yeah, sorry.
Nik: Let's get moving.
*Dog starts following the duo*
What shall we do with the mutt?
Bharat: Let's domesticate it. Dog meat for when the squirrels die out.
Nik: Yes. Good plan.
It's male. Testicles always taste good.
Bharat: Yes. No need for condiments.
Nik: Yup.
Where in Chewbacca's name are we?
Bharat: We entered a portal. We are in Reykjavik.
You know what's considered edible here, right?
Nik: I know what's considered edible in Gultimysk. Is it the same?
Bharat: Is it fermented?
Nik: Of course.
Bharat: Splendid.
Nik: You still wanna head to turkey? We could live here for a while.
Bharat: Sure.
Nik: I believe grass is legal too.