>>6385693
>"You Laugh, You Lose" thread.
oh shit here we go

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>>6385694
>"You Laugh, You Lose" thread.
oh shit here we go

Craymond - *blows bubbles out of his antique Riverwood gentleman's bubbling pipe* Once again — Democracy, common decency, and the pursuit of a higher class wins out! We shall unto this encroaching twilight supping on the freshly, hot foam of good natured guffaws. Our laughs shall unite us as brothers, laughing both at the clever and crude jests as well as our freshly, hot foam mustaches!

You click the thread, and the page loads at a relative speed. A banner, adorned with a 3D PIG-VIXEN bewitches you with promises of “HOT AI SEX NOW FAST YOU PAY NO NO $ PIG” in much smaller text. A lesser man would have already succumbed, but your years of internet prowess have made you immune to such temptations. Your arm…it quivers….It’s guiding you towards the banner.

Craymond - MASTER! YOU MUSN’T! Control yourself, lest you end up on another episode of those tasteless late night “prank shows”! Surely they got the best of you once and the shame should stay adorned on their shoulders!

ROLL YOUR 8D8’S TO SEE IF YOUR 64-BIT STATS CAN OVERCOME THE SIREN’S CALL OF THE PIGVIXEN BANNER.

Rolled 5, 2, 7, 6, 4, 4, 4, 7 = 39 (8d8)

>>6385735

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>>6385736
your mental faculties, astute, honed after 10000 hours playing twitchy fps' and alt-tabbing while listening for footsteps, allowed you to circumvent the wiles of the dreaded PigVixen. Despite your priest-like celibacy, it still maintains a sense of lingering grasp over you, it's wiles emanating towards you like a freshly-baked cherry pie on the windowsill. You quickly scroll down, your willpower is met with congratulations from the ever-dutiful hands of your imagined crustaceous butler.

"That's the making of a FINE gentleman!"

The thread is still only beginning to hatch, the embriotic dew fresh on the claws of its cackling bird-child-like habitants. You are fresh to the feeding and you have a decision to make. You cannot get the FPBP bonus you so desire, but there are plenty of (you) to farm.

Will you:

1. Post a meme.

2. Comment on other people's memes.

3. Troll

"Master, this is the haven of fine upstanding gentleman. We are all here to relax and have a good day, please do not sully this evening with some cheap-trick taught to you by either that dastardly checkboarded scoundrel or the war-lusting lady-of-the-night!" advises your life-long attendant.

>>6385760
Post a meme

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>>6385767

a lone fictionkin stands up, looming over the complacent sheepkinz audience. “Post a meme” it states, met by uproarious applause. This is all happening in your head of-course, too much clapping triggers your noise sensitivities. You enter your brain-mansion to recollect what memes you have in your collection, as the carpal tunnel in your hands makes folder navigation quite unbearable. Unfortunately, your working long-term memory has been shattered into a fractal of fiction-kinz, so you can only remember three.

1. Prism-Ryde-Jok Wizard Fighters meme: a famous panel from the Manga-To-Anime Adaptation of Wizard Fighters. You edited it to the moment where Prism slaps Ryde-jok with her overwhelming Carnie-tickets after they were both transported to the Blue Screen. Out of the question. Absolutely out of the question. You may engross yourself into the barbarism and short-sighted plotlines of Wizard FIghters alongside that red-colored gender-confused HARLOT, but I will not stand-by silently and endorse it while enjoying the seat of prime FictionKinz.

2. Fryer-Tuck’s Round-A-Mouse look-a-like: incredibly popular a few years back, a meme where anything round enough was edited to look like the famous fast food mascot Round-A-Mouse. Fryer-Tuck’s revelation that he was actually a little-man on-top of this larger Fryer-Tuck makes the meme have a deeper layer only true meme auteurs would appreciate.
ha-HA! A classic, Master! Please choose this one, it will surely bring “the fellas” to such an agreement that you will be dubbed king of your image-board!

3. baraba_funny webm edit: A niche choice. Baraba_funny has a following on Digit where people will post nonsensical videos, relating to the early eras of the internet. Only a true veteran of the years will understand the flow of time and the way memes come and go. In this case, early wa.tch videos showing poor tutorials and school-children trying to circumvent parental filters. Only those blessed to have been born in this era will carry the knowledge of these experiences, which builds the feeling from slight chuckles to uproarious laughter.

If Master wanted a lesson in art history, we could schedule a trip to the museum. Otherwise, it would be in his best interest to keep some modicum of common sense within this crowd, lest they pull you deep into the tides of esoteric memory. There are no jobs for such an expert Master and your romantic prospects will suffer for it!

The greater forum is now in attendance, they must choose:

1. Wizard Fight Edit[/red

2. Round-A-Mouse

3. Baraba_Funny Webm

>>6386066
3. Baraba_Funny Webm

If they get it, they get it.

>>6386066
>3. Baraba_Funny Webm

>>6386437
>>6386439

You snap awake from the daydream where your father was being hit by a car to the dull gray ambience of the cage you call your room. You don’t know how much time has passed, a prime FictionKinz shifted your clock to military time so you could, in his words, “get this hunk o’ junk shipshape for WAR”. The hour number doesn’t seem different and that’s enough to soothe your ego. You drag the mouse across, clicking on Documents -> Memes -> Tadipc Memes -> Tadipc Memes I made please be careful I don’t want to be judged. Inside lies your bounty — baraba_funny_tadipc.webm. You snicker to yourself, the thought is building already. Everyone will love this, it’s a new one, they’ve never seen it before.

No one will call you a Scooper now, no “go back to Scoop”, or “pooper-scooper”. It’s all smooth internet-highway-if-the-highway-was-an-ocean-actually sailing from here on out. You snigger to yourself, typing in each letter to your post with singular digit presses like an elderly widow working a keyboard for the first time. “Found a new one, it made me LOL”. You’re nearly cackling. Your hands go up to your face and they play around your nose while you make small noises with your mouth like “pyew!” or “bang!”. You press both hands to your lap, clench them into a fist, and take a deep breath. You wish you could stop doing that embarrassing tic, you’re not even sure it’s a tic. Thoughts of your parents mocking you, glaring at you silently behind doorways, or banging on the bathroom when you wanted to do it in peace. You grit your teeth.

Flooded with adrenochromes, you mash the “get captcha” button. You forgot you had to cut the premium account from your budget and have to do one of the new captcha puzzles. They make no sense, you ignore the text on the panel and go straight to the shapes, yelling at them to make sense. “WHICH IS IT!?” you blurt out loud. Truly this was designed by Daedalus himself, commissioned to ensnare the beasts of this awful “Webbed Site” from tormenting the greater public at large.

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>>6386788

After about three or four captcha failures, each met with a greater SHRIEK of frustration, you manage to doohickey your post into posting. You SLAM your hands into the table and stand-up, breathing heavily. Each inhale carried the air of insults from fetid-thugs, especially your parents, all spouting curses at you for whatever indignity they could think of. Oh it makes you so MAD!!!!

Ungh….your arm….it’s trembling once more…it needs BLOOD!

Just as you start to reach for your signed Hollow-Live game controller, there’s a knock on the door. Your desire for conquest is washed away to a clean, overwhelming fear. The shower those fetid-thugs have mocked you over has finally come in the form of a storm of dread. Another knock. This one arrives slightly louder, authoritative, familiar. You cannot guess which neighbor, but you know they have all aligned themselves against you like everyone else you’ve ever known. With your hands tucked to your chest, you shuffle to the door.

>>6386908
The door stands in front of you, a 「VIOLENT VIOLET」aura emenates from beyond the threshold. You fear for your life, you fear for your fictionkinz. The only thing holding you back from being being a "dumpy little coward" is to spite those terrible fetid-thugs. You approach the door...it's aura increases tenfold

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>>6386912
Go ahead, Master, you musn't keep them waiting

One deep breath, you imagine yourself as a Ronin of Eld, and you steel yourself.

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>>6386931
OH NO!!!1 THE WORST FATE HAS BEFALLEN YOU. IT'S YOUR CATTY NEIGHBOR

SHE’S SUCH A JERKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK
She’s like if hitler was born a woman and was dedicated to holocausting your good time. GO AWAY!!!!

Of course, you could never say that to her.

“Can you keep it the fuck down? I can hear you all the way down the hall. I know it’s you” lashing you with her fucking sand-barbed tongue because she’s a cat and they have barbed tongues. You try to stop yourself from tic’ing and instead rub your hands all over your head. You look like you’re about to collapse.

She is unmoved like a 3D model made by someone who forgot to give her an idle animation.

ROLL YOUR 8D8’s, SEE IF YOU CAN TAME THIS CAT-HITLER

Rolled 5, 6, 3, 3, 7, 3, 8, 2 = 37 (8d8)

>>6386950
stupid foid doesn't understand the captcha pain

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>>6387003
Urgh....YOUR ARM

IT'S TOO MUCH

ALL THOSE FETID THUGS
ALL THOSE UNSOLVABLE CAPTCHAS
YOU CANNOT HOLD BACK ANY LONGER.

TAKE THIS, YOUR SECRET CHARISMA TECHNIQUE!!!!!!!

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>>6387098
you maintain your Ronin's true secret stance, both as a way to hold the upper hand and to invite the oncoming Cat retaliation. Your opponent stares in what appears to be exhausted disbelief in your ability.

"I'm a cat." she states flatly. "Not a fox."

Your stance wavers like a poor Japanese fisher-boat folded from paper ten-thousand times caught in a Tsunami from Susano himself. "itsthenameofmytechniquenotaboutyou" you quickly apologize while breathing in.

She turns away "whatever, keep it down". Her little pitter-patter steps disappear in the glow of the emission-carpet lighting.

Wow! A real victory! Against a woman! You're on your way up now...wait...you can feel it. It's happening, a real, genuine, LEVEL UP! YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS!?

YOU GET TO CHOOSE ONE STAT TO INCREASE OUT OF THE EIGHTFOLD PATH.
YOU ONLY GET ONE POINT AND ONLY GET FOUR OF THE EIGHT CHOICES, SO MAKE SURE IT'S RIGHT!

Wonderful Master, truly wonderful. You are well on your way to the tip-top of civil society. Do you see now Master? My expertise guides you to greatness while your other Prime Hooligans are harrying road bumps aimed to knock you into the path of a barrel-living vagrant.


COME TOGETHER FICTIONKINZ, CHOOSE WHICH ONE YOU WANT, THE CHOICES ARE:

1. Charisma — no matter what world you're in, no matter how many Fictionkinz are fucking your social life up, a good roll of Charisma can fix anything.

2. Dignity — What you endured the Pigvixens with, while subtle, most of life's problems fall away with some good old fashioned self-respect
This would be my choice Master. Even the most harrowing trials may be overcome by someone with a good demeanor and disciplined patience.

3. Avant-garde — What little French and Art you can recall, you do remember Avant-garde is weird art and means "first-to-attack". Your abstract memes and aggressive posturing will be enhanced.

4. Esoteric Calibrations — your probable autism allows you to both recall and apply incredibly niche information in a variety of situations. You're not a swiss army knife, you're a cinnamon-roll tubing that is the exact perfect shape and material to open a Sterwell Deadbolt Vault.

Which do you choose, ye fictionkin furies?

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>>6387117
2. Dignity — What you endured the Pigvixens with, while subtle, most of life's problems fall away with some good old fashioned self-respect

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>>6387131
May your counsel of Fictionkinz always be so astute. You may not have been the most upstanding gentleman in your approach from an aggressive, possible suitor yet you reflected upon your actions and realized the possibility of a new way of socializing.

Remember, Master, that a man grows from practice AND reflection.

Your eight-fold path screen closes with a *blip*.
The newfound energy from the incremental improvement has nestled itself deep within the blackened heart of your volcel body. A chorus sings out in unified yearning: let us choose! Let us choose!

Craymond nods with the quiet strength of a father that beliefs in their son and isn't a stupid piece of shit. Let them choose.

Suggest a course of action, you may call upon a skill-check roll from the Eightfold Path to attempt something that might otherwise be humanly impossible. Note, some actions may only be available depending on certain conditions — whether through story events, status effects, or because you're not a total fucking retard.

If you are needing a nudge in understanding, my little sheepy sheepish fictionkinz, here are some suggested choices.

Play a game.

Warm-up some left-overs.
**Ultimate Aim Check** - try to cook your own meal.

Dignity Threshold Met — Look in the mirror.
**Dignity Check** — practice poses befitting the gentleman you are becoming.

See how the meme you posted is doing, also actually look at the meme.

**Avant-garde Check** — make another meme.

**Needs Status Effect: Suicidal ** — Jump out of the window

**Needs Status Effect: fucking Retarded** — livestream yourself having sex with a video-game console

a strange feeling is in the air, as if you experienced the same moment but some small details were changed, like reposting the same post on an image board site with the tags working properly.

Rolled 1, 8, 6, 5, 7, 7, 3, 6 = 43 (8d8)

>>6387304
>Ignore the craving to check for the meme and clean your room. Warming up the leftovers will feel much better when the room has been tidied up. And a dignified person will only casually browse the ylyl thread while having some food.
Rolling dignity to see if we can muster that amount of composure.

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>>6388250
You break out of your stupor. It seems like it's been a few days but really it was only a bit....you think. The fictionkinz counsel is displeased. Both that you were enjoying a mental break from their constant noise but also that you're about to do boring ass labor. Your room currently has 3 AURAS which need cleaning.

...okay there's 4 but you don't want to clean around your microwave just yet, you specifically built piles around the AURAS to get those accomplished first. The instant-noodle wall around your microwave is accidental, you just didn't know where else to put your "Triple Pallette Pack of Instant Noodles by Maru-Maruchan".

The roll was strong enough that any of the 3 AURAS may be chosen.

If I may be so bold Master, my preference would be a full-frontal assault upon the Easter Egg Collection surrounding your bed. Who knows if Hypnos' ephemeral fingers may lay upon your eyes as you undertake this weary task.

As the consul is quite rowdy, you will be undertaking the Prime-FictionKinz choice within 15 minutes unless some brave fictionkin announces their own votes.

The choices are:

1. The Violet Pokepile

2. The Cyan Slumberparty

3. The star-dewed Tissues

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>>6390052
As more than double the allotted time has past, permitting yourself a sweet ole snacky break, you have taken upon yourself the herculean feat of "putting together all of these eggs".

Thankfully you will not be putting anything in them.
Thankfully's evil-twin, UnThankfully, has a sinister plan. The sinister plan requires total compliance. That is to say you have to snap together over 2000 of these fucking eggs.

"It is a gift" you say to the rowdy crowdy of rootin-tootin fictionkinz. They are rooting for the tooting of your last breath. That's a shit ton of eggs you have to put together.

"It is a gift to my Hey-Eye-Emm friend!"
They're still rowdy.
"NOT DOOD, A DIFFERENT FRIEND" you scream out as the senate descends on you like if Caeser was stabbed by the entire senate and not just Brutus.
Their rowdiness meters drop exponentially. They stare at the leftmost screen on your $9800 Gay-Z-Boy Scorpion Gaming chair with an overwhelming hate, grumbling to themselves as they allow you to stand in the shadow of the Goliath you face. You're like if David had to make stones rather than throw them.

Your 「Diligent Dusty」begins....resounding...

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>>6390079
the Clacks of the eggs are sounding out nicely. Each one meticulously placed onto it's sibling color. You've made a lot of headway! You keep saying "You've made a lot of headway!" for each egg you clack.

You're only around 40 or 50 and it's been about 3 minutes. at this rate it'd be around...

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>>6390115
Your assisted-learning mathematics FictionKinz steps in: Qwik-Mafz. His street-smarts helped many urban-and/or-underperforming students to duck the ever-scanning bureaucratic eye of Public Education. You took a liking to him and even his voice joins the Choir.

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>>6390119
you begin...

to SOUP....UP!!!!

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>>6390170
You are now face-to-face with a Scottish Dinosaur Edu-kinz that can give you information on anything you'd like. Note: he's only able to access information you have access to and have knowledge of. Please understand that our host is in a fragile condition and may know more than he realizes.

The good news: You can call The-saurus at anytime you like. It's Thesaurus. Blarney the Thesaurus. None o' those nonsense hyphen's ye add everywhere ye can. Right. Right. Thesaurus, easy to remember, hard-to-gogle see? everywhere. Yeah, our host has a fondness for hyphen's. As I was saying, you can now call Thesaurus at anytime you like to ask about anything.

The bad news: You have to use the entire phrase. If you fuck up even a little bit of it, you can't call him. This is why You forgot how to do it in the first place, you have a ton of these phrases and you don't remember ANY OF THEM.

Maybe we should make a place tae write it doon?

Maybe so. Maybe one of our Congressional Fictionkinz wants to get off their fucking ass and do something for the constituents of our Host. Maybe we even have a writing Fictionkinz of some other category, but we'll never know. At least, we might. How do you even work like that anyways? Do you know all the groups?

Maybe I dae, but ye didnae call me did ye?
Maybe you can fu—
I would be your gentleman caller, so please do please entertain me, O Terrible Lizard.

Guid tae see ye as aye Kraymond, whit dae ye need?/blue]

Our host is having trouble with his...*ahem* "Souped-up Mode". Could you give our Fiction-kinz, both young and old, a primer on its systems?

Can dae ma Seafood Servant.

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>>6390199

The "Souped-up Mode" is whin our regent supreme takes a freshly made Maru Maruchan Ramen and devours the entire thin', bowl and all. This came aboot only after Maru Maruchan started makin' edible soup containers after Mr. Pajamas In Public was uh...eatin' the bowl.

His temporary disposal caused Maru Maruchan stock prices tae drop four tae five points on the regular

That much...? How is he alive...?

Master is resilient, rather than born a coal-miner he was born in a coal-furnace. His glowing heart forges each day in the ever-diamonding pressures demanded of him.

His heart is glowin' due tae the sodium.

Anyways, ye can call this up tae three times per day, provided ye've the requisite ramen bowls. He keeps plenty o' spares and a portable kettle within his Cat A Back Log. Ye can access that at anytime tae either see or use by sayin' Cat A Back Log Up!

You have to say "Cat-A-Back-Log Up!" every time. EVERY TIME. EVERY. TIME.

Ye dinnae hae tae use the hyphens!

Yeah, you don't.

If ye awready ken whit item ye want tae use, say "use" after callin' the Cat A Back Log.

Alright, let's kick this puppy intae gear!

Rabbit.

Is he a rabbit now? I thought master was still on his horse-fond-phase for his furr-i-nation of Chex?

Don't ask me.

**CAT A BACK LOG UP USE FRESH SOUP!**

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>>6390236
you're done. you finished. you click so many eggs in such a short time that the sheer force of your movements blended the eggs into various colors. You're pretty sure your friend won't mind. They just wanted a bunch of eggs. Easter Eggs. A bunch of clicked together Easter Eggs with nothing inside them. You reach the far recesses of your limited mind-space to search for whatever reason they might have for needing pure colored, plastic easter eggs with nothing in them.

You try to stuff down the angry voices of your parents, lecturing on whatever they would find stupid or a waste of time. It's not easy being more than a turd, but you're doing your best.

Standing amidst the other eggs is a large, Solid, empty easter egg. It came pre-Clacked. Your empty mind doesn't wonder what it does.

Perhaps we should try out our newfound Edukinz ability, Master? Craymond railroadingly suggests.

You realize you're free to do whatever you want at this point, there's a gnawing feeling that the Egg might be useful and the other __AURAS__ might also reveal some sort of utility for you.

Alas, you are a FictionKinz democracy.

oh aye, those are aye run well.