Insult Beer Pong

From TheKolWiki
Revision as of 04:58, 5 December 2007 by JRSiebz (Talk | contribs) (New page: {{adventuretop |name=Insult Beer Pong |noname=yes |image=beerpong.gif}} You push through the crowd and look Rickets in the eyes. "I reckon I'll take ye on, ye scurvy sea-dog," you growl, ...)

(diff) ← Older revision | Latest revision (diff) | Newer revision → (diff)
Jump to: navigation, search
Beerpong.gif

You push through the crowd and look Rickets in the eyes. "I reckon I'll take ye on, ye scurvy sea-dog," you growl, as menacingly as you can. Rickets laughs mockingly. "So the landlubber wants to face me, eh? All right, whelp, I'll take yer challenge. Beat me an' I'll give ye me title, by gad!" He laughs again. "Not that ye've a bloodless bastard's chance o' defeating me, mark ye, not in a month o' Sundays!" "Bring it, you... um... jerk," you reply. The assembled crowd sighs and shakes their heads. Rickets smirks at you as he dribbles his ping-pong ball on the table. "Are ye ready fer yer drubbin', sprat? I'll give ye no quarter fer bein' green, by odd's blood!"

"Well," you reply, "we'd better get it over with quick, before you become completely incomprehensible."

Your response:

  • It can't be any worse than the smell of your breath!
  • That reminds me, tell your wife and sister I had a lovely time last night.
  • . I'm not really comfortable being compared to your girlfriend that way.
  • I'd've thought yellow would be more your color.
  • (the above are unconfirmed, may be 1,2,3,4 or 2,3,4,5, see page source)
  1.  ?
  2.  ?
  3.  ?
  4.  ?
  5.  ?
  6. It's an honor to learn from such an expert in the field.
  7. Amazing! How do you manage to shave without using a mirror?
  8. It only seems that way because you haven't learned to count to one.
  9. How appropriate, you fight like a cow.
  10. Look, a three-headed monkey!
  11. I'm rubber and you're glue.
  12. I know you are, but what am I?
  13. First you'd better stop waving it around like a feather-duster.




The pirate lobs his ball at your cups. "Do ye hear that, ye craven blackguard? It be the sound of yer doom!" he taunts, with a sneer. (Correct Response: It can't be any worse than the smell of your breath.)

The pirate lobs his ball at your cups. "Suck on this, ye miserable, pestilent wretch!" he taunts, with a sneer. (Correct Response: That reminds me, tell your wife and sister I had a lovely time last night. ) The pirate lobs his ball at your cups. "When I'm through with ye, ye'll be crying like a little girl!" he taunts, with a sneer. (Correct Response: It's an honor to learn from such an expert in the field.)

The pirate lobs his ball at your cups. "The streets will run red with yer blood when I'm through with ye!" he taunts, with a sneer. (Correct Response: I'd have thought yellow was more your color.)

The pirate lobs his ball at your cups. "Arrr, the power of me serve'll flay the skin from yer bones!" he taunts, with a sneer. (Correct Response: "Obviously neither your tongue nor your wit is sharp enough for the job.")

The pirate lobs his ball at your cups. "Not a single man has faced me and lived to tell the tale!" he taunts, with a sneer. (Correct Response: It only seems that way because you haven't learned to count to one.)

The pirate lobs his ball at your cups. "In all my years I've not seen a more loathsome worm than yerself!" he taunts, with a sneer. (Correct Response: Amazing, how did you learn to shave without using a mirror.)

The pirate lobs his ball at your cups. "Yer face is as foul as that of a drowned goat!" he taunts, with a sneer. (Correct Response: I'm not really comfortable being compared to your girlfriend that way)

win round 1 ...(insert insult)... you riposte, catching Ricket's ball on the bounce and deflecting it neatly into one of his own cups. He fishes the ball out and drinks the contents with a scowl. And a twist.


win round 2

...(insert insult)... you sneer. Rickets falters as he makes his throw, and the ball is wide off of the mark. You catch it before it hits the floor, grinning with satisfaction at his narrowed eyes and furrowed brow. He starts to speak, but is cut short by the 'plop!' of the ball landing in another of his cups.

"A thousand curses on ye and the devil take yer luck!" he snarls, as he drinks again.

Win Round 3

...(insert insult)... You laugh as Rickets' eyes widen and he fumbles the shot. The ball bounces high, and you spike it forcefully back to his side of the table, where it lands in one of his cups with a resounding splot!

"Souse me for a gurnet," mutters Rickets, the color draining out of his face. "That be the devil's own backspin, and no mistaking it!" His resolve is clearly broken, and the rest of the game goes quickly. Soon the other pirates are cheering and lifting you up on their shoulders, proclaiming you to be the new master of insult beer pong.

Results: After a few victory laps atop the ocean of revelers, you swagger back over to Cap'm Caronch's table, flush with your victory. "Well, now, Mr. Fancypants," you say, "what do you think of that?"

"Truly, 'twas a most impressive display of verbal prowess," the Cap'm says. "I suppose ye'll be wanting to be inducted into my crew now, eh?"

"Well, actually, I was thinking of going pro on the Insult Beer Pong circuit. Maybe I don't need you and I don't need your crew! What do you think about that?"

"I think," Caronch says, "that there be no such thing as the Insult Beer Pong circuit. So I wish ye good luck, and I'm glad to be rid of ye."

"Wait," you say, "I'm sorry. The rigors of your interview process just had me burned out a little. Please may I join your crew?"

"Well, all right," the Cap'm says, "ye can board the ship and report to the F'c'le for your assignments."

"The what?"

"Well, it's actually called the Forecastle, but we pirates are so busy that we usually just call it the Fo'csle. Me and me crew are even busier than that, so..."

"Got it." you say. "So, what am I going to do in the F'c'le?"

"Well," the Cap'm replies, "for yer insolence, I'll be givin' ye the most menial tasks I can think of. Ye'll have to swab the mizzenmast, polish the cannonballs, and shampoo the rigging before ye'll be a full-fledged member of my crew."

"Do I have to wear some kind of humiliating outfit while I do it?" you ask.

"Great Mike Nesmith, no!" the Cap'm says. "We may be no-good, thieving, lying brigands, but we're not frat boys!"

"Oh," you say, slightly disappointed. "Okay, point me to the ship and I'll get to work."

If you give the wrong comeback:

Shaken by Rickets' words, your faltering attempt at a retort proves ineffective. The ball sails directly into one of your cups, and the pirate sneers as you fish it out and start drinking. "By my bones, I knew ye for a whey-faced scupperlout when first I laid eyes on ye, dawcock that ye are!" he laughs. You attempt to make up for the slip, but it's too late -- your nerve has been broken, and you soon find yourself pushing your way through the crowd, away from the beer pong table and the jeering cat-calls of Old Don Rickets.

Phooey.


Occurs in Barrrney's Barrr as a part of Arrr You Man Enough?.