Categories > Games > Zelda > The World in Brief
Timeline: Twilight Princess (massive AU)
Warnings: Swearing, mature references, general mayhem.
Characters: Link/Purlo, Zelda/Ilia
Theme: phrase - ass antlers
Author's Notes: The theme was derived from an argument regarding what the proper slang was for tattoos placed on the lower back - fondly recalled by most of us as "tramp stamps," though some of our non-American buddies took dissent to the, ah, nomenclature. Sadly, I cannot levy responsibility of this craziness on any sort of inebriation - just a generally pervasive sense of the typical silliness. If you want to see another author's take on these themes (from the same chat room, in fact!), head over to the webpage of author "an awesome blossom." She's got some explosively amazing work over there, and it is truly something worth experiencing.
Author's Notes (II): For those who have read /Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas/, I'm sure you'll catch the obvious homage. All credit should be sent careening at ninety miles per hour via Red Shark to Hunter S. Thompson. (And if you haven't read it, do so and soon.)
"JESUS CHRIST, HOW MUCH DID WE DRINK LAST NIGHT?" Link screamed maniacally, poking ("ow, ow, ow, ow!" the chorus went) at his newest set of ass antlers, which had settled themselves pluckily against his left ass cheek in perfect union to its right ass cheek sister (in-law) and SCREAMED in a wildly frictional fantasia of cheap tattoo ink, "PROPERTY OF PURLO: DO NOT PASS GO, DO NOT COLLECT $200 UNTIL DADDY HAS A NEW CIRCUS TENT."
"Personally, I think it's HOT," Purlo yelled over the racket as Aerosmith rocked this way over airborne frequencies set to the high-pitched octave of HEAVY METAL and AND IT'S TOO LOUD, YOU'RE TOO OLD, MAN and Ilia rolled her eyes like Las Vegas jackpot dollar signs and waved emphatically to Zelda, who was 10.213 feet too far away wrapped up in serious meditation to the old school sound of Bob Dylan and obnoxious plaid print of an old couch.
"THERE IS TOO MUCH Y-CHROMOSOME GOING ON HERE." She battled Steven Tyler and came to a draw, and made a circular tumble of legs and body and drunken wheeling to the perpendicular heaven of 70s upholstery to curl like a cat against Zelda's side. She lifted a head phone and yelled, "WE CAN'T STAY HERE, THIS IS MAN COUNTRY."
"JESUS, I KNOW," Zelda and made a half-circle of petticoats around them both. "BUT THERE'S A WHOLD WORLD OUT THERE WITHOUT ASS-ANTLERS AND BOB DYLAN AND LESBIAN COUCHES, SO WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO GO?"
So they didn't.
Warnings: Swearing, mature references, general mayhem.
Characters: Link/Purlo, Zelda/Ilia
Theme: phrase - ass antlers
Author's Notes: The theme was derived from an argument regarding what the proper slang was for tattoos placed on the lower back - fondly recalled by most of us as "tramp stamps," though some of our non-American buddies took dissent to the, ah, nomenclature. Sadly, I cannot levy responsibility of this craziness on any sort of inebriation - just a generally pervasive sense of the typical silliness. If you want to see another author's take on these themes (from the same chat room, in fact!), head over to the webpage of author "an awesome blossom." She's got some explosively amazing work over there, and it is truly something worth experiencing.
Author's Notes (II): For those who have read /Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas/, I'm sure you'll catch the obvious homage. All credit should be sent careening at ninety miles per hour via Red Shark to Hunter S. Thompson. (And if you haven't read it, do so and soon.)
"JESUS CHRIST, HOW MUCH DID WE DRINK LAST NIGHT?" Link screamed maniacally, poking ("ow, ow, ow, ow!" the chorus went) at his newest set of ass antlers, which had settled themselves pluckily against his left ass cheek in perfect union to its right ass cheek sister (in-law) and SCREAMED in a wildly frictional fantasia of cheap tattoo ink, "PROPERTY OF PURLO: DO NOT PASS GO, DO NOT COLLECT $200 UNTIL DADDY HAS A NEW CIRCUS TENT."
"Personally, I think it's HOT," Purlo yelled over the racket as Aerosmith rocked this way over airborne frequencies set to the high-pitched octave of HEAVY METAL and AND IT'S TOO LOUD, YOU'RE TOO OLD, MAN and Ilia rolled her eyes like Las Vegas jackpot dollar signs and waved emphatically to Zelda, who was 10.213 feet too far away wrapped up in serious meditation to the old school sound of Bob Dylan and obnoxious plaid print of an old couch.
"THERE IS TOO MUCH Y-CHROMOSOME GOING ON HERE." She battled Steven Tyler and came to a draw, and made a circular tumble of legs and body and drunken wheeling to the perpendicular heaven of 70s upholstery to curl like a cat against Zelda's side. She lifted a head phone and yelled, "WE CAN'T STAY HERE, THIS IS MAN COUNTRY."
"JESUS, I KNOW," Zelda and made a half-circle of petticoats around them both. "BUT THERE'S A WHOLD WORLD OUT THERE WITHOUT ASS-ANTLERS AND BOB DYLAN AND LESBIAN COUCHES, SO WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO GO?"
So they didn't.
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