'Kishi keeps telling me to stop doing that, but my brain just don't never catch on.
Enough to eat Bleys any day
I wouldn't go that far to eat a human - well, not Bleys...
That's disgusting!
No thanks, I'm a vegetarian
'Kishi keeps telling me to stop doing that, but my brain just don't never catch on.
Hah, every time I check a forum, just to see the new threads or topics, I keep seeing this.
Recognized Member
Hey, Cheffie, if you ever read this, what is the best way to serve a Bleys?
Hello Pika Art by Dr Unne ~~~ godhatesfraggles
Stop spamming, heathens! That's it; I'm hiding this in Magestar, where no one'll ever see it again. Wa. Ha. Haa!
Hi.
Apparently, I have been declared banished.
A dark cloud descends over the GameSquad, the host of EoFF. Deep fogs encroach the office buildings, and the air is still. Suddenly, an ominous figure, as if by magic, seems to part the fog with no effort, and passes through it. Bleys Maynard, walking crookedly and nursing what appears to be a broken arm, stumbles towards the building. Moving his hand briefly from his arm to adjust his vest, the reason for his arm requiring aid becomes apparent. He has been bitten, and is missing a rather large amount of flesh. Keeping pressure on the wound is the only thing stopping it from causing him to bleed to death on the spot.
But there is still little time.
He reaches the front doors, and pulls them open. Limping into the front lobby, his gaze meets that of the receptionist, whom only looks up briefly, then non-chalently returns to her computer work.
"I need to speak to the tech in charge of the server hosting Eyes on Final Fantasy," Bleys huffs.
"Excuse me, sir?" comes the reply, with only a raised eyebrow registering as any change of her expression, and continues to type away.
"Eyes on Final Fantasy, Eyes on Final Fantasy! I need to find the one who is responsible for maintainng the server it's hosted on!" Bleys' voice is a mixture of desperation and hostility. This was a matter of life and death, and here was this pencil pusher, treating it like everyday business!
"One moment sir, I'll look up that file." The receptionist reaches for her mouse, and Bleys can see her minimize a window. He peers around to take a look at the screen. As he does, a chill runs along his spine.
By the Gods, it's Windows Millenium! This will take forever! he thinks to himself, and starts to panic.
"Miss, this is rather urgent, is it possible you can just tell me where the server is located and I could go see if the tech is there?" Bleys begins to fidget some, partly from the dull pain, partly from the impatience welling inside him.
The receptionist is still business as usual. "Do you have an appointment, sir? I can't allow you to roam the halls freely--"
This is all Bleys is prepared to hear. Turning sharply, he heads down the hallway in search of the server, barely registering that she is screaming at him from behind.
"Hey, come back here! You can't just run through these offices unescorted!! Security!!"
There was no time to heed her voice. The server had to be reached, and soon. Door after door he passed, with no hints as to whether or not the server he sought was located there or nearby. Left, right, left, right...he had entered a virtual maze of corridors, with no indication of the server he needed being nearby. Another left. Still nothing. Then, at the end of the hallway...
He focused, as best he could with his weaning strength. Peering at the nameplate on the door at the far end of the hallway he was in, he could barely make out the faint lettering:
Eyes on Final Fantasy server
Authorized access only
Yes! There it is! Now, to finally put an end to this thread! he cheered to himself. He started to pace down the hallway. Halfway down the hallway, he heard an authoritative voice demand from behind,
"Halt! You are under arrest!"
EDIT: Damnit, Proto...how about letting it sit still long enough for my reply to make sense??
Last edited by Shiroi Kumo; 12-18-2002 at 04:36 AM.
A song sung by ancient Mist...
Bleys on rye bread sounds pretty good.
SEXY McAWESOME TO YOU, MISTER
Recognized Member
Bleys on rye or Bleys on white.
Or Bleys on brown, maybe toasted light.
Add some salt and a little pepper.
Some lettuce and mayo would be that much better.
Hello Pika Art by Dr Unne ~~~ godhatesfraggles
Will this thread ever freakin' end?
Nope.
Bow before the mighty Javoo!
Give me Bleys, which that I eat,
Which can be bought in a large supermarket,
With a cup of sugar and portridge of wheat.
Bleys is what I want, and I also want more.
More like the gallon of milk and a pair of apples.
So many sweets, eat so little to adore.
I want it all, and a whole lote more.
Combined with the hours in all workdays.
I dedicate this thread to the man named Bleys.
(Yes, this poem sucks. I blame Del.)
Apparently, I have been declared banished.
Bleys' thread is back from the dead. I wonder what a Zombie Bleys' flesh tastes like?
Grab the opportunities life hands you, that's my motto!
Same as the norm, but a little hint of banana bread. Goes well with orange juice. Especially if you spike it.
Instead of making zombie moans which we're all so used to from survival horror games as a stereotype in zombie sounds, Zombie Bleys makes it a trend to moan 'Piiiiipeeeee', over and over again. Then press R1 to dodge and eat his guts.
Proto: I blame Del for everything. Find your own blamelackey.
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