Andrew Hussie - Homestuck Pages 431-500 lyrics

> Rose: Hit John in the head with box to get his attention. You give John a swift drubbing in the noggin, but he is undeterred! That is some fit he is throwing. > ==> Perhaps you will take this spare moment to contemplate the Nannasprite's strange tale. It may also behoove you to record your thoughts on these developments in your GameFaqs walkthrough/journal. It can be hard finding time to update it. In fact, you're not even sure where you found the time to write what's already there! > ==> Oh is that so, Jaspers? And just who do you think you're looking at with that smug grin??? The last thing you need is sa** from a dead cat. It's pretty much all his fault you're in this mess in the first place, so he can just bu*ton it. > JOHN. COOKIES. NOW. You refuse outright! > THIS IMPUDENCE IS INSUFFERABLE. GO GET THE COOKIES!!!!!! Well when you put it so politely, how can John decline?? > JOHN YOU ARE STUPID. You really need to work on your manners. > STUPID STUPID DUMB That's not a command. It's nothing. It's stupid. You're stupid. > FOR THE LAST TIME I COMMAnd you to get the cookies boy It's just not going to happen buddy! > Years in the future... But really not enough to write home about. An agitated finger slips mid-keystroke. > ==> She's not finished with this yet! Jeez, cut her some slack. Maybe you could go bug someone somewhere else for a while? Or at the very least, somewhen else. > Months in the past, but not many... > ==> GG: hi happy birthday rose!!! <3 TT: Hello, and thanks. GG: did you get johns present yet? TT: I just opened it this very moment. What a stunning coincidence you would ask about it now. I am stunned. GG: yeah i know!! GG: what will you make with it? TT: And who said it was something from which something else could be made? GG: well john did tell me what it was duh..... TT: I suppose I'll take a stab at learning the craft. TT: It's the least I can do in response to the subtle dig concealed in his gesture. TT: He often tells me I "need a new hobby" when I make perfectly reasonable an*lytical remarks. GG: oh but rose i dont think he meant anything like that by it!! GG: you see not everybody always means the opposite of what they say the way you and dave always do TT: Maybe. TT: His birthday is in a few months, isn't it? GG: yep! GG: i finally finished a present for him GG: ive been working on it for years!!!! TT: Years? TT: It's so hard to tell when you're joking. TT: Or if you're even capable of it. GG: heheheh.... :) GG: i just mailed it too so it is sure to get there on time GG: mail takes a while to get anywhere from here!!! TT: I'll probably craft something with strong sentimental value. TT: That should burn him. GG: i dont think you really mean that! TT: I guess not. TT: So, shall I expect a green package dropped to my house via airmail from whatever screwball cranny of the globe you're tucked into? GG: err....... GG: no :( GG: sorry but you are sort of hard shop for <_< GG: besides i have something for you today that i think you will like better than some thing in a box! TT: Oh? GG: it is a tip!!!! TT: This is already intriguing enough to compensate for the grave scarcity of lavish gifts parachuting from the sky. Please go on. GG: did you have a pet a long time ago that died? TT: Yes. GG: ok well how did you feel about your cat, did you love him a lot? TT: "ok well", I didn't mention it was a cat, or that it was a male. Let's pretend I'm surprised and you're embarra**ed and move on. TT: To answer your question, I would describe my feelings toward the animal as lukewarm. GG: ummmmm ok.... GG: thats fine!!! GG: it doesnt really matter i think, just..... GG: what if someone told you you could play a game that would bring him back to life? TT: If someone told me that, I would regard the remark with a great deal of skepticism. TT: If that someone was you, on the other hand, then I would have to ask preemptively: TT: Is that someone you? GG: yes that someone is me!!!!!!!! GG: i just thought you might find it interesting TT: So what is this game? GG: oh i dont know GG: im just saying is all GG: i think youll hear about it later and maybe you can talk to john and dave about it GG: they are way more into all that stuff than i am!!!! TT: I'll see what the word on the street is about it. In due time. TT: For now I should probably order a copy of Knitting for a**holes. It would be a shame if I ran late with John's present. > Dave: Get katana. You captchalogue your KATANA (2+1+2+1+2+1 = 9%10 = 9) and prepare to venture out into the apartment to retrieve your BRO's copy of the game. But first, maybe... Just maybe... > [S] Dave: Retrieve dead bird. Dude, that bird is long gone. It probably won't last long in this heat anyway. You don't even know what's up with this sick heat. The sun threatens to set but won't step off. It's staring you down, like the big red eye of a hot needle skipping on a groove its tracing 'round the earth. While lingering in midair its heat seems to suspend time itself, stretching it like warped vinyl. It's meant to rain this season but there ain't been a drop in sight. Even a little drizzle would help. Might help to fizzle this sizzle a little bizzle, set the record straight on this global turn-tizzle. "So don't change the dizzle, turn it up a little I got a living room full of fine dime brizzles Waiting on the Pizzle, the Dizzle and the Shizzle G's to the bizzack, now ladies here we gizzo When the pimp's in the crib ma Drop it like it's hot Drop it like it's hot Drop it like it's hot..." -English Romantic poet, John Keats > Dave: Exit your room, and go into the living room. Sorry little dude, coming through. Gotta put you down for a bit. You figure you've left him hanging long enough. > Dave: Hastily enter the room with wild abandon. You barge in and see a familiar face. A friendly face. > ==> You stand in the living room. Your BRO spends most of his days in here. At night he crashes on the FUTON over there. You don't see him anywhere though. There's the PUPPET CHEST he stores LIL' CAL in when he takes him out on gigs. But when he's home he usually leaves CAL on display somewhere. And with good reason cause CAL is totally sweet. So sweet. Man. > Dave: Pity da fool. It's your brother's MR. T PUPPET, which of course is kept in the apartment with a sense of profound humorous irony. But as usual with your BRO's exploits, this is no ordinary irony, or anything close to a pedestrian TIER 1 IRONIC GESTURE which is a meager single step removed from sincerity. This is like ten levels of irony removed from the original joke. It might have been funny like eight years ago to joke about Mr. T and how he was sort of lame, but that was the very thing that made him awesome and bada**, and that his awesomeness was also sort of the joke. But in this case, the joke is the joke, and that degree of irony itself is ALSO the joke, and so on. Only highly adept satirical ninjas like you and your BRO can appreciate stuff like this. It's cool taking stuff that other people think is funny but you know really isn't, and making it funny again by adding subtle strata of irony which are utterly undetectable to the untrained eye. Also, for good measure, Mr. T is wearing a LEATHER THONG and handcuffed to a pantsless CHUCK NORRIS PUPPET. God you hope you can be as good as your BRO at this some day. You'd never tell him that though. > Dave: Find Lil' Cal and give fistbumps. CAL's nowhere in sight. All you see is a bunch of your BRO's weird nude puppets strewn around haphazardly. You... You guess these things are kinda cool. Sort of... > Dave: Play a game on the Xbox. It looks like your BRO was playing. It's not like him to leave in the middle of some totally intense gaming. Not like him to misplace CAL either... man you hope the little guy's alright. > ==> Oh there you are dude. Didn't see you there. We be chill today, Cal? Yeah you better f**in' believe we be chill. Cal is the man. > Dave: Resist great urge to play Bro's Xbox. You fail to resist the urge. You start thrashing up stunts something uncannybrutal on your quest for "MAD SNACKS YO" and get this way rude hunger under control. sh** is basically flying off the hook. It's like sh** wants nothing to do with that hook. The hook is dead to that sh**. But you get stuck in some poorly modeled 3D fixture or something. Like a railing or a piece of the wall? You'll have to reset. f** this sh**. > Dave: Give Lil' Cal a bro fistbump. Aw man you almost forgot. Gotta give the C-man some props. > ==> > Dave: Check out your BRO's sweet gear. Your BRO has so much sweet gear it's hard to keep up with it all sometimes. Here's his computer setup. He's usually got a lot of stuff cooking on here at any given moment. Since he's not around you might as well sneak a peep. > Dave: Look at your brother's computer. Your BRO's computer is pa**word protected of course to protect all the incredible top secret sh** he's got on the burners. Of course you know what the pa**word is, and he knows you know it, and you're both cool with that because the pa**word is the most awesome thing it can be. > ==> You enter the pa**word. On the desktop is a hodgepodge of unnamed folders to store all the stuff he's working on. No one can decipher his organization system but him. He also tends to use the application COMPLETE BULLsh*t to keep up with the ludicrous amount of websites and news feeds he monitors to stay hip to the scene. > Dave: Open Complete Bullsh**. This is COMPLETE BULLsh*t. > Dave: Check if Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff has a sweet update. Your BRO keeps up with your projects in his aggregator, just like you keep up with his. He's tuned into your various blogs, and of course SWEET BRO AND HELLA JEFF. You navigate to the LATEST COMIC in one of the many BULLsh*t FEEDBANDS. > Dave: Mouse over the orange stripe containing PlushRump. Another one of your BRO's many ironic websites. The difference here is he rakes in thousands of dollars a month through this enterprise. SMUPPETS are a multi-billion dollar a year enterprise, and it's awfully hard to resist taking a firm squeeze from the plump udder of that cash cow. > Dave: Stop wasting time and look for Bro's beta. You guess you've messed around on his computer long enough. Better get a move on before it's too late for Rose, or worse yet, your BRO catches you. But my God... the rumps. They are transfixing. You know this is ironic and all, and your BRO reaches echelons of irony you could only dream of daring to fathom. But on rare occasions, when your guard is down, it all seems just a tad unsettling to you. > ==> > ==> Oh. Uh... Hey... Hey there, Cal. > Dave: Give Lil Cal a nervous fist bump. > ==> You are sort of starting to flip the f** out. Without losing your cool of course. > Dave: Pester John to ease your nerves. You get Egbert on the line again to give him the lowdown on your progress. You feel it's important to keep the wires hot. But he's not answering. You wonder what that guy is up to. > ==> TG: hey what is up TG: what happened with the monster that is totally definitely in your room did you k** it TG: where are you man TG: anyway TG: things are cool here TG: totally cool TG: puppets are still awesome TG: no problems with them or anything TG: like TG: just TG: really really awesome > ==> Looks like Rose is finally logged in again. Didn't John say her house was burning down? You wonder if she's on fire yet or what. > Dave: Pester Rose. TG: oh there you are TG: john said your house was burning down are you on fire yet or what TT: No. For now I have retired to the safety of a smaller building which is much closer to the forest fire threatening my residence. TG: oh well thats a relief TG: john told me to get the game to help get you out of there so im working on that now TT: Working on it? TG: yeah my bros copy long story TG: hey TG: dont tell john this but i think he might have been right about the puppets TG: theyre sort of starting to freak me out a little TT: You're referring to your brother's collection? TG: i mean dont get me wrong i think its cool and all TG: the semi-ironic puppet thing or whatever TG: or semi-semi ironic TG: man i dont even know TG: im just starting to think some of this sh** is going a little far and its kind of f**ed up TT: I've seen his websites. TT: I like them. TG: haha yeah well YOU WOULD TG: oh man i wish lil cal wouldnt look at me like that TG: with those dead eyes jesus TG: sometimes i dream that hes real and hes talking to me and i wake up in a cold sweat and basically flip the f** out TT: Interesting... TG: oh god why did i just tell you my dream TG: youre going to have a field day with that TT: I am currently scrawling notes furiously into one of the many psychoan*lysis journals I maintain for you. Published papers forthcoming. TT: Because, you know, it's not like either of us have anything better to do at the moment than to evaluate each other's radically debilitating pathologies. TG: yeah im gonna get moving TG: oh have you heard from john TG: hes not answering me TT: He won't answer me either. TT: But I am watching him. TT: I suspect he is preoccupied with the fact that he just had a bucket of water dumped on his head by the ghost of his dead grandmother, who also happens to be dressed like a clown. TG: hahahahaha TG: alright im out TG: later > Seconds in the future, but not many... TT: John, what are you doing? TT: Snap out of it. TT: We ought to discuss what your grandmother told you, don't you think? TT: Fine. Enjoy your stupor. TT: I'll go about my business elsewhere. > Rose: Deploy the Punch Designix. TT: John, whenever you read this, you should know I put the shale you collected to use and finally deployed the Punch Designix. TT: It is in your study. TT: I can only drop it though. You'll have to be the one to mess around with it and see what it does. TT: When you're finished with your weird histrionics, maybe you could give it a try? TT: I'm updating my walkthrough, and it would help to know what it does. > ==> TT: Also, I should probably warn you that your house and yard are completely infested with monsters now. Try to be careful. > ==> EB: so i can see. EB: stupid lousy imps. EB: they're mucking up all my cool stuff! TT: Oh, there you are. EB: oh, yeah. EB: sorry! EB: i'm not sure what came over me there, i was acting really crazy for some reason. EB: but my head feels like it's clearing up, i think i'm alright now. > John: Rebuild the claw hammer and return it to specibus. You are getting way better at this sort of thing. > John: Confront Pogo Ride to prepare yourself for Nanna. Thank God your sanity has returned so you can entertain extremely rational, coherent thoughts like this one. You examine the POGO RIDE from the bathroom window. You do not like what you see. > [S] ==> Those sons of b**hes. NO ONE risks painful injury on your GREEN SLIME GHOST POGO RIDE. No one but YOU. > Rose: Drop something heavy on one of those imps. > ==> EB: rose my piano!!! EB: :C TT: Sorry. TT: No nuance to these controls at all. TT: I was hoping to bludgeon the imp without letting go of it. Guess I can't really do that. TT: A broken piano isn't the end of the world though. EB: i guess you're right. TT: You'll need to pick up the spoils in person. I can't interact with the grist. EB: so... EB: that means i have to go out the back door? TT: Yes. Is there a problem? EB: well it may sound dumb, but i was hoping to avoid nanna and her spooky ghost cookies. TT: You're right, that does sound dumb. EB: can you see her in the kitchen? TT: Yeah. EB: what's she doing, is she baking? TT: You could say that. EB: are you SURE you can't get that grist up to me somehow? TT: Maybe. > Rose: Use pogo ride to fling grist through window. Doesn't look like that GRIST is going anywhere. You just never know with these gaming abstractions. > ==> > Rose: Drop pogo ride in John's bathroom. > John: Get grist. TT: There you go. TT: Now why don't you check out the Designix? TT: You can do that while I get to work. EB: on what? > Piano: Level up for slaying the imp. The piano in its valiant effort has unfortunately been slain. But if it hadn't, it would have raked in so many BOONDOLLARS, you have no idea. SO MANY. > Rose: It's time to build. TT: Nanna said to build, so that's what I'm doing. EB: oh yeah. ok. TT: But this sure is going to take a lot of grist. TT: Looks like you're going to be busy, John. EB: blargh! EB: well, what are you building? TT: Stairs. TT: They are fairly expensive actually. EB: oh man... EB: i could have warned you about stairs, rose! > ==> TT: I'll try recouping some of the grist from the catwalk I built earlier. EB: IT KEEPS HAPENING TT: Ah, good. Looks like I can get a refund for earlier allocations. EB: i told you rose EB: i TOLD you about stairs! TT: Ok. TT: Consider me fully briefed on the matter of stairs. TT: Now if you don't mind, it's hard enough to concentrate on this without immersing ourselves in Strider's non sequitur. EB: did you know he thinks puppets are cool? TT: Does he? EB: he's so dumb!! > Rose: Use build grist to construct observation tower on roof Ok, you obviously don't have enough grist yet for something that ambitious. But you can get started with something of a foundation for upward construction, at least. > John: Check cabinets for imps or useful items. No imps in here. Just a lot of SHAVING CREAM. Dads love shaving. It's basically all they do. (When they're not baking, that is.) > John: Bring 2 cans of shaving cream. You captchalogue two cans of SHAVING CREAM just in case. You never know when you'll need to bust out a hilarious SHAVING CREAM SANTA BEARD to ratchet up your PRANKSTER'S GAMBIT. Your TELESCOPE goes flying out the window. > John: Ride pogo ride. It's a little cramped in here for any sort of proper reckless pogoing. You'll just grab it and hang on to it until the right moment presents itself. > ==> The TOWEL floats back down to the rack. The circle of stupidity is complete. > Rose: Check up on Nannaquin, see what's cookin'! > ==> > John: Make your way to the study. > ==> It looks like the imps have taken a shining to the CRUXTRUDER. Cruxite and black goo. Everywhere. > John: Ride Slimer pogo and one-up that imp. Well ok, it's not a Slimer pogo, but you mount it anyway and brandish your deadly armaments. > John: Ride your steed to victory. > ==> This is incredibly dangerous! > John: Flip the f** out. Let's see how they like the old doublebarrel latherblaster WHOOPS OH sh*t. > ==> > mister john, respectfully ask that you please stand up. DON'T MOVE OR THE POGO GETS IT > now sir boy, flee from this boorish rabble post haste.