Choose Your Own Banter
 

I'm really bored right now, so I thought I may as well start a choose your own adventure story. Basically, I'll write a story in segments, and each segment will end with a choice, and then you guys pick the option that you like best. Whichever choice has the most votes by the time I decide to write the next segment becomes canon. So, first things first, what should the story be about?

A. A story about two female wrestlers trying to win a tag team championship in a post apocalyptic city filled with radioactive monsters and mutated freaks.

B. A story about a wandering swordsman in a strange land, taking on quests and building a party.

C. Yet another uber meta ego stroking story about the members of MB doing goofy shit.

A

C and you better finally stroke mine.

R

Oops, I almost forgot option R, thanks for reminding me.

R. Janszoon buys a cursed saxaphone from an antique shop, and is possessed by the ghost of a serial killing Jazz musician.

Edit: P.S. I'm rooting for option A.

Then the ghost goes on to invent a new jazz subgenre: Janz.

Dude, spoilers!

That's an easy pick:

A

I like it. My title suggestion: Blow Hard.

Two for A, one for C, and one for R. Option A it is, then. Oh, and just for Mondo Bungle, I'll try to go easy on the expletives.

A Post Apocalyptic Wrestling Thing

"Fuck!" groans Jessica as she falls to the mat. After taking a deep breath and wiping her hair out of her eyes, she turns herself over onto her elbows. Standing above her, glowing under the bright light of the lamp hanging over the ring, a massive woman with blue eyes and reptilian skin smiles. Taking a heavy step forward, the large woman launches herself into the air, raising a leg as she prepares to drop it onto Jessica's neck with the full weight of her body. Rolling to the side, Jessica narrowly evades the deadly blow, and shoots out a leg as she kicks her enemy square in the jaw. Taking the hit without so much as flinching, the reptilian woman simply smiles, and answers by grabbing Jessica's leg and wrapping her arms around it, locking her knee.

After finishing his beer, the announcer unceremoniously burps into the microphone, before continuing his half-hearted commentary. "Welp, the Rose sisters put up a pretty good fight, but it looks like they ain't got shit on the Lovely Serpents after all. I give 'em 'bout two minutes 'fore they get made. Anyway, I've just run outta beer, so if any of you gorgeous mutant fucks out there tonight brings me another cold one, I'll slip ya' some of that radioactive goop ya'll like so much."

Quickly maneuvering herself out of the lock, Jessica positions herself behind her enemy and wraps her right arm around her neck, pressing her forearm into her windpipe with as much strength as she can muster. The reptilian woman lets out a surprised gasp, and frantically shoots an elbow back, hitting Jessica in the ribs. Bracing herself for another strike, Jessica squeezes her opponent's neck even tighter. Though she can feel her opponent quickly losing strength, Jessica knows that one more elbow from her mighty enemy could very likely shatter her ribs. Catching her breath, she briefly considers using her special ability as a last resort, a technique that she acquired years ago as a result of the waves of radiation that perpetually blanket every corner of her ruined world. However, it would be a gamble, as the use of her ability would completely drain her of her remaining energy.

On the sidelines, Jessica's sister Albany watches the action intently, eager to help. As the reptilian woman elbows Jessica, Albany looks away, glancing at the audience behind her. A mutated fan with red hair and a turtle shell on his back waves at her as their gazes meet, shoveling fried ants into his mouth with his other hand. Albany notices that he is seated on a metal folding chair, as opposed to the flimsy wooden stools underneath most of the other spectators.

What should the sisters do?

A. [Jessica] Keep up the choke hold and hope for the best.
B. [Jessica] Use your mysterious special ability.
C. [Albany] Call for your sister to give up the choke hold, and tag out.
D. [Albany] GIVE 'EM THE CHAIR!!!!!

I'm sure I'm not the only one that thinks it's stupid to say **** 7 times per paragraph

Oh, you're not.

You ****ing bet I'm not you stupid ****ing bitch mother****er

Nah, what's really stupid is when a fan of body horror gorefests filled with swearing whines about how crudity ruins artistic merit.

Btw, I'm gonna interpret your posts as a vote for option D.

It's not my fault you don't pull it off well

I also can't recall ever saying anything like this

Bro in the story you wrote it didn't take a long time before the swearing lost all meaning, and is so blatantly forced that it just gets stupid. It almost reads like you set a precedent for it, like you were thinking "ight I'm gonna use the most curse words in any story ever", and then here we are, something so unnatural in it's language that I wanna beat it up after school for trying to be so hard and falling flat.

You're kind of a moron. And that's why I love you. One day, I'm gonna write a paragraph containing seven "fucks" that is so beautiful that it makes you cry.

Btw, next time you think someone uses swearing poorly in their writing, maybe just say so up front, instead of making broad ass statements about how heavy swearing in general is stupid.

But yeah, I'm sorry you didn't like that shitty horror story I wrote. Tough shit, I guess.

Swear as much you want pal, some people actually pull it off effectively though.

It's not ****ty it could definitely build a large following of middle schoolers

Oh my god, Mondo. I crapped out that story during a break at work, it really doesn't deserve to be talked about like a month later. If you insist on riding my dick like this, don't get mad when I *** on your dress.

well it's not as bad since you admit that it is in fact soulless swearing

So how come you didn't come back and roast me about the stupid violence in my story, that's prime material

Even I think it's gay and did absolutely nothing for the story

Some people just aren't as vindictive.

which choice did you guys pick that brought us to the mondo/ori confrontation

Ori, speaking of post apocalyptic stories, have you ever read this?

https://www.amazon.com/Dark-Advent-B.../dp/155817088X

I think you'd really enjoy it. Your option A in the first post immediately made me think about it for the first time in decades.

^ Never heard of it. I'll check it out, as soon as you watch Angel's Egg like you promised. :finger:

Mondo, let me make something clear. I give a fuck about every story I write. I may write some stories more quickly then others, or joke about how they're shitty, and yeah, some are more ridiculous than others, but I love every one of them. I work my ass off for each one. If I read a story back to myself and don't believe that it's good enough for me, or good enough for anyone else, than I either scrap it or tweak it until I'm proud of it. If you don't like my style, then hey, that's your perogative. But if you really think for a second that my soul hasn't gone into every single word of every story I've written, then you really don't know me at all.

E.

can someone write me a mondo/ori fanfic

Stop arguing kids, I love both of you equally.

What should I do?

A. Continue with this Mondo beef.

B. Write a Mondo/Ori fanfiction for Qwertyy.

C. Whine until people start actually voting for what happens next in the story.

D. GIVE 'EM THE CHAIR!!!!!

b

d

im gonna vote D but also B cuz me

as for the other thing GIVE EM THE CHAIR

The chair has been given
 

"Excuse me," says Albany with a smile, as she yanks the metal chair out from under the mutated spectator. Running back to the ring, she slides the chair under the ropes before lifting herself over. Meanwhile, the reptilian woman elbows Jessica once more in the ribs, breaking her chokehold and sending her tumbling backwards onto the mat. Standing above her, the massive woman lifts her right foot, and wastes no time in stomping it down towards Jessica's face. Having retrieved her weapon, Albany rushes towards the combatants, when the world around her seems to slow to a crawl in the heat of the moment. "Not gonna make it," she thinks, as the booted heel of the enemy nears its target. In that instant, a decision is made in Albany's mind. "You owe me, Jess..."

The chair in Albany's hands connects with a satisfying sound, as metal, bone, and cartilage sing in harmony. The reptilian woman falls to the ground, her broken nose releasing a stream of bright blood onto the worn and stained mat. Stumbling backwards as though she herself had been struck, Albany lets her weapon fall from her grasp, as blood begins to flow from her nostrils as well. The large woman's partner enters the ring, and rushes towards Albany, who is struggling to keep her balance. Though she is smaller than her compatriot, and lacks her reptilian features, she is equally ferocious, and has imitation scales painted on her pallid skin. Without hesitation, she leaps towards Albany and kicks her in the chest, knocking her down.

"Beautiful," remarks the commentator through a tired laugh, as the referee tries in vain to restore order in the ring. Pushing him aside, the painted woman kicks Albany in the stomach. Slowly standing while nursing her ribs, Jessica lifts the chair off of the mat and cracks it into the back of the attacker's head. The crowd goes wild, jumping from their seats and throwing their refreshments into the air as they begin fighting amongst themselves, a custom that is often observed when the rules are so flagrantly broken in a match. "Every week..." mutters the commentator, as someone steals his freshly opened bottle of beer and tosses it into the ring, hitting the referee in the shin. Looking up at the window of the owner's office, the commentator sees a red light begin to glow.

"Well, looks like that's it for tonight folks. Try to duck outta here before security starts crackin' skulls, and I'll see ya'll tomorrow. And remember, stay hungry," he says, before disappearing amidst the chaos.

A drunk mutant picks up the commentator's now vacant microphone, and shouts "Star dogs!" before a stool flies into his head, causing the speakers around the ring to let out a shriek as both the mutant and the microphone tumble to the floor.


"You morons crack me up," laughs the owner, looking up at a reflection of the sisters as he fixes his greased hair in his bronze mirror. As his gaze falls upon Albany, she shudders. Ever since a former champion had put a blade to his face, leaving a pink scar down his forehead and cheek, the lids of the owner's left eye had become severely drooped, giving him an unnerving leer.

"Look, I'm sorry," replies Jessica, as she moves the bag of ice on her ribs up to her bruised eye. "We just... got caught up in the heat, you know?"

The owner shrugs as he runs a brown plastic comb through his hair. "Sure. I get it. Hell, carnage like that every now and then isn't so bad. People love it. But I've got three problems right now."

"Yeah?" asks Jessica, shifting in her seat.

"Yeah," replies the owner. "The first is that you aren't the one who should be apologizing to me." Having said that, he fixes his gaze back on Albany.

"Hey," says Jessica, lowering the ice, "we both messed up, alright? She wasn't the only one swinging that chair."

"No," replies the owner, "but she's the one that brought it into the ring, without my say so, bringing me to my second problem, which I'll elaborate on once your sister gives me an apology."

"I'm sorry," says Albany sheepishly, looking to the side.

"Thank you," replies the owner amicably. "Now, my second problem is that I had the misfortune of being brought up in a backwater sinkhole, and the only thing that's gonna get me to Caesataea is if I come up in the world. And I intend to do just that. But it's hard to get respect when my dogs don't obey. Do you understand?"

"We were just giving the crowd what they wanted," mutters Jessica.

"Forget the crowd," replies the owner in a commanding voice, glaring at Jessica. "You answer to me. I make the matches. I call the shots. I decide who gets crippled, how, and when. And I decide who lives and who dies. The next time you give your opponents so much as a nosebleed without my say so, then you will be the one that dies."

"Speaking of nosebleeds, how's 'ole Mattilda doing?" asks Jessica in an undaunted voice.

The owner stares at her for a moment, before laughing through his nose. "She was halfway to Potter's Hill when we took her outta the ring. Now she's all the way."

"Better her than me. You saw that drop, near the end," replies Jessica, looking hard at the owner. "Bet you had a good long talk with those lizards about 'who lives and who dies' before the match."

The owner flashes her a telling smile, before shrugging innocently. "Hey, you shouldn't have sucker punched her sister in that bar two nights ago. Not my fault that you have a way of inspiring grudges in people. But now, we come to my third problem. Matty and Sis were big draws. The freaks out there ate those scales up. Now, Matty is pushing up glow-weeds, and Sis is vomiting blood all over one of the sawbones' beds. And that's what happens when you don't obey me. I lose my big draws."

"I'm really, really sorry," says Albany in a sincere voice. "It was my fault. I'll make it up to you."

"How?" asks the owner.

Albany shrugs. "You were looking for someone to fight those Tumor Hounds you rounded up, right? I'll do it."

The owner laughs. "Forget the Tumor Hounds. You two are out of here for a week. And when you come back, you'll get half rations till you show me you're worth more than that."

"Hell with that!" yells Jessica.

Before she can go on a tirade, the owner silences her by raising a hand. "One more word, and you won't come back at all. I know you two came up from the Rulies, same as me. You're used to fighting half melted clowns in some two bit rodeo on the bottom of the toilet of society. But now, you're on the rim, and you can go even higher if you just follow my orders. The suits in the Royal League already think I'm a joke. I have to clean this place up, show them I'm serious, if we're ever gonna get registered on the circuit, and you jokers putting chairs in faces makes it that much harder for me. So get out of here. Cool off. And when you come back, follow the rules, and follow my lead. You do that, and maybe I'll save a chair for you when I get to the top."


"We're licked," says Albany, walking alongside her sister with her hands in the pockets of her jacket. As they push their way through the doors, a warm radiation-tinged breeze greets them.

Jessica takes in a deep breath of metallic air, looking up at the perpetually cloudy sky as thick drops of muddy rain begin to patter on the sidewalk. "We'll make do, like always."

After looking down in thought for a moment, Albany says "I really am sorry, you know. I just..."

Jessica smiles and shakes her head. "I know. I saw. And I'm glad you're always looking out for me. That means a whole hell of a lot more to me than rations. How's your head, by the way?"

"Fine," lies Albany. In truth, her head hadn't stopped churning and ringing since she had used her ability.

Though unconvinced, Jessica nods. "You wanna sit down?"

"No," answers Albany. "Really, I'm fine. In fact, I'm feeling kinda restless. We should go do something. You know, to clear our heads."

"Alright," replies Jessica, humoring her. "What'd you have in mind?"

A. Get some drinks at a bar.

B. Check out the wares in the marketplace.

C. Head to the outskirts and try to win some quick resources in an anything-goes back alley fight.

D. Head to the theater, and watch a play (or maybe even a movie, if the projector isn't acting up again).

Uh... thanks?

A

Raising the bar
 

Nestled between a warehouse and a death box, and perpetually coated in a grimy film of moisture from the thick dockside air, McTannon's smoky hole in the wall certainly isn't one of the rad-free lounges on the hill, but it gets the job done. As the Rose sisters push their way past the faded red door, a two-headed mutant lets loose a spray of glowing green vomit onto Jessica's pants and shoes.

"Aw, come on!" cries Jessica, as she examines the damage. Leering up at the mutant, who mutters a halfhearted apology through a burp, she strikes him with an uppercut that sends his jaw careening off into the crowd.

Holding back a laugh, Albany retrieves a tattered rag from the floor, and hands it to her sister. "You alright?" she asks through a smile, sounding more amused than concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just lemme..." replies Jessica as she attempts to clean the mess. After the towel does little more than spread the vomit around even more, she angrily tosses it into the crowd. "Fucking balls," she mutters in a frustrated voice.

Stepping out of the kitchen, a three-armed mutant with blue skin wearing a dirty white apron serves a plate of fried ants to a patron at the bar. Spotting the Rose sisters near the door, he raises all three of his hands in a wave. "Yo, Jessica! Get anything for you?" he calls over the noise of the crowd.

"Beer," shouts Jessica back. "And, uh, something to get vomit out of pants! Oh, and..." glancing at Albany she asks "Whatchya want?", to which Albany simply shrugs. Turning back to the mutated bartender, Jessica adds "Make that two beers! And maybe some ants!"

Laughing, the bartender nods, waving a hand and saying something that is washed out by the din as he retreats back into the kitchen. By the time the Rose sisters have pushed their way through the crowd and reached the bar, the bartender has returned with two orange bottles, which he sets down in front of Jessica.

"That the beer, or for the vomit?" asks Jessica as she eyes the bottles suspiciously.

The bartender shrugs. "Both."

Jessica shrugs in kind. Snatching one of the bottles, she pours some of its contents on her pants. As the liquid makes contact with her leg, it hisses and bubbles like an acid. "God damn it!" yells Jessica, stealing a glass of muddy water from a nearby mutant and splashing it on the acid before it can do any more damage. "Where did you get that shit?"

Laughing, the bartender wipes his brow with a grimy towel. "Traded all that hork palm I got last week for a buncha cases of it. Strong as hell, but you know, it actually doesn't taste so bad. It ain't cream, I know, but with our still out of commission, it's all I could get my hands on."

"Well, I ain't drinking this shit," replies Jessica, setting the bottle back down on the counter.

The bartender shrugs. "Fair enough. It's either that or water, though. How bad you wanna get drunk?"

As the bartender ducks back into the kitchen, Jessica stares at the bottle in silence, weighing in her mind whether potentially killing herself is preferable to sobriety. Internally wincing with pain and shame, Jessica lifts the bottle to her lips, and takes a healthy swig from it. After swallowing, she hurriedly sets the bottle back down on the counter and coughs, a thin wisp of smoke trailing out of her throat. Unable to hold back her laughter for any longer, Albany nears falls out of her chair.

Returning to the bar, the bartender sets down a plate of fried ants in front of the sisters. Noticing that Jessica is doubled over in pain, he smiles. "See what I mean? Didn't taste so bad, did it?"

Jessica gags. "Like... a... fucking... citrus... suicide..." Looking down at her pants, she notices that the majority of the vomit has been burned away, though her pants are still glowing faintly from the radiation. "Looks... better?" she asks, glancing at her sister.

"Positively glowing," replies Albany, before eating a fistful of fried ants.

While wiping a pool of mysterious liquid off of a section of the bar top, the bartender notices a fresh jaw on the ground behind the bar. Shrugging, he picks it up, and takes it into the kitchen. As he returns to the bar and glances at the sisters, suddenly the smile vanishes from his face. "Hey!" he yells, at someone behind Jessica.

Jessica turns around just in time to see a mutant swinging a machete at her face. Sliding her bottom half forward on the slick bar stool, Jessica lowers her head and shoots out one of her knees. Just barely evading the blade as it cuts the air above her, her knee strikes her opponent between his legs, causing him to buckle. Kicking him hard in the chest, she sends her attacker stumbling backwards into the crowd, struggling to keep his balance. "What... the... fuck?" she asks.

"What did you expect to happen?" shouts the mutant in a pained voice, dropping his machete as he nurses his groin. "You killed Matty, you bitch..."

"What the hell are you talking about?" asks a nearby mutant, as the noise of the crowd dims.

"Didn't you hear?" replies the attacker. "'Bout an hour ago, in the ring, those cheating bitches cracked her skull open with a fucking chair."

As mumblings and murmors spread through the crowd, a few mutants step forward, eyeing the sisters angrily.

"Wrgh drdn't mern to," says Albany through a mouthful of ants.

"Take... it... easy... boys..." says Jessica, smiling innocently.

After helping the attacker up, the mutants slowly approach the sisters.

What should the Rose sisters do?

A. Run! If they cut through the kitchen, the sisters might be able to escape through the backdoor.

B. Try to talk it out. These gooey mutants aren't exactly known for their intelligence, so maybe the sisters can trick them, or turn them against each other.

C. They should do something so crazy that it stuns and confuses the mutant mob.

D. GIVE 'EM THE CHAIR!!!!

don't pick d
don't pick d
don't pick d


... D!!!!

Without a Chair in the World
 

As the crowd of mutants approaches, Jessica shoots her sister a glance. "Run?" she asks, her voice still worn from the acidic beer she had earlier consumed in her quest to conquer sobriety.

After appraising the oncoming gang, Albany swallows the mouthful of fried ants and looks back at her sister, smiling. "Nah. The other one."

Smiling back, Jessica shrugs. "Alright."

Though the gang of mutants outnumber the sisters, they nevertheless approach cautiously, each of them afraid of being at the head of the pack when the fight finally begins. Feeling a surge of boldness, one of them finally steps ahead of the others, brandishing a knife. "You humans never fucking learn," he mutters angrily. "Maybe I oughtta cut Matty's name into the two of ya, 'fore I gut ya."

"Sounds good," says Jessica. "First, can you do me a quick favor?"

The mutant pauses, staring back at her in heated amusement. "Got a last request, do ya bitch? Let's hear it, then. As long as it isn't a painless death, I might even oblige ya."

"Psh," laughs Jessica. "Who'd want something as boring as that?" Hopping off of her chair, she smiles. "I just wanted to know if you'd hold this for me." Quickly grabbing the chair behind her, she throws it towards the mutant, splattering his soft skull open as one of the metal legs makes contact.

"Kill em!" shouts a mutant wielding two small swords, throwing one of them at Jessica as the gang rushes forward.

Ducking down, Jessica evades the knife. The blade sails onward until it collides with the rack of drinks on the wall behind the bar, shattering a bottle, and sending the acidic contents flying out in a splatter.

That gives Jessica an idea. Hurriedly standing, she grabs her drink off of the bar and tosses it at the gang. The bottle strikes one of the mutants in the forehead, shattering in a splash of glass and acid, and halting a good number of the gang in their tracks. Screaming in pain, their skin and eyes being eaten by the corrosive liquid, they stumble to the ground.

The mutants that remain unhindered by the acid are soon met with Albany's fists as she rushes into their midst, shouting a battlecry. Shattering jaws and dismembering arms with every strike, she proves more than a match for the fragile mutants, though she is nevertheless damaged by the occasional knife slash. Jessica soon rushes in beside her, her bootheel getting stuck in a mutant's skull as her kick passes through his face.

Quickly seizing a billiard cue from one of the mutants, Albany spins as a mutant stabs at her from behind, his knife clipping her waist. After knocking his head off with a mighty swing, she struggles to keep herself calm, trying to focus on taking out the remaining mutants that are armed with bladed weapons as opportunities present themselves. However, it's hard to focus when surrounded by a gang of mutants swinging knives and boards of wood wildly.

Regaining his composure, the mutant armed with the machete leaps into the fray, cutting a large gash into Jessica's forearm. Disarming him as he lashes out once more, she quickly seizes the weapon and strikes back at him in one fluid motion, sending his head careening off into the cheering crowd of barpatrons now gathered along the back wall.

Between the two of them, the sisters soon dispatch the entirety of the gang, save for the few that fled out of the bar after realizing the futility of their assault. Covered in deep cuts and red marks that would soon flower into brilliant bruises, the sisters drop their weapons and stumble back to the bar. Swiping a drink that had been abandoned by one of the patrons, Jessica drinks deeply, smoke trailing out of her nostrils as the liquid sears her throat.

Peeking up from behind the bar, the bartender eyes the monsoon of glowing mutant blood and limbs strewn about his establishment, a garter of intestines draped across one of the hands of the ceiling fan, swaying and dripping as it spins lazily.

"Sorry," says Albany.

Straightening up, the bartender waves a hand dismissively. "Don't worry 'bout it. I knew what I was gettin' into when I bought this place. I mean, what's Friday night without a good massacre?"

"Right... on," coughs Jessica, tossing the half finished drink into the mutant pasta.

"Still," says the bartender, scanning the damage, "I'm probably gonna have to spend all night cleaning out the guts."

"Yeah," agrees Jessica, turning to appraise the chaos with him. "That's... a... real... pisser."

The bartender shrugs. "Well, you know, you two could give me a hand, considering that you-"

Jessica raises a hand. "Hey... say... no... more."

The bartender narrows his eyes. More often than not, the two sisters skip out after causing carnage, leaving the clean-up to someone else. "Seriously?"

Jessica shrugs and smiles. "Sure." Stepping into the body part stroganoff, she retrieves a dismembered hand, and tosses it back to the bartender. "All... yours... friend." Having said that, she makes her way to the door.

Laughing through his nose and rolling his eyes, the bartender tosses the hand into the kitchen, and then glances at Albany. "How 'bout you?"

Albany stares back at him innocently for a moment, before snatching the plate of fried ants and following after Jessica in silence. Catching up to her, she shoves a mouthful of ants into her mouth, savoring the sharp crunch.

Jessica glances at her. "Your head feel any clearer, now?"

Albany swallows the ants and smiles. "Much." She looks down at the injuries scattered over her body, streaks of blood dashed across her clothing and skin. "Soon as I plug all these leaks, I'll be right as acid rain."

Brushing an errant hair away from her eyes, blood dripping down from her elbow to the concrete below, Jessica laughs. "Yeah. Much as I hate to spend our resources on frivolities like injuries, maybe we ought to check in with the sawbones."

Up ahead, a man in a trenchcoat rushes out of a ruined building, his arms crossed tightly around a large briefcase as he holds it to his chest.

What should the Rose sisters do?

A. Better safe than sorry. The sisters should get their wounds treated.

B. Screw all that band-aid shit. It's time for some physical therapy. The sisters should find some more skulls to crack. There are still assholes in the world that haven't been given the chair.

C. They shouldn't waste their resources on treatment, but they also shouldn't go looking for trouble. They should just turn in for the night, and hope that they don't bleed to death in their sleep.

D. They should investigate the man up ahead. After all, people in trenchcoats are legally required to be up to no good.

D: Man up

I didnt read any of this but Frown said D so D it is.