Off-topic Bay 13 Survivor: Cockburn (2016). We have a winner! (links in OP)

[Morganashlee]

Challenge #1 entry

"NOOOOOOOOOOO, bombres, please don't remove the stickers!"

I sit up, terrified and shaking, awoken by the sound of my own blood curdling screech. Twelve months of consultations with Hodgepodge's therapist and I still can't sleep through the night. At least one of us can say they have been screwed by that bitch.

The ocean breeze bites my barely covered skin, "All part of the rehabiliation" they told me as they removed my clothes and replaced them with stickers, exact replicas of the ones Bombers had used over on Not Convicted Island. Bunch of campaigners.

The boat stops abruptly and we are instructed to swim ashore. TootToot! is first in, being well accustomed to getting in too deep at the first opportunity to get his dick wet. Jose falls in the water after him, still adjusting his floaties. "Look at me TootToot! I sheepishly followed you and now I am in the water, too!" What an attention whore.

Flogs pile out of the boat and into the icy sea, with Bosk bringing up the rear.

hazard looks somewhat puffed, but buoyant at the opportunity to be amongst more people than attended Port games prior to 2013. Thankfully he brought a tarp with him so setting up a shelter shouldn't be too hard.

royals1922 makes it to dry land in the the first group, those water aerobics classes at the retirement home clearly paying off for him. Cooksen stalls and starts splashing Allikat, having never made a girl wet before he jumps at the opportunity to seal the deal and quarter poundher.

Things are looking bleak for Red mist and Duritz as the drunken flogs stammer around in the dark, spluttering incoherently. Nothing new to see here then.

I set foot on the island and take in my surroundings and am instantly overcome by an incredible stench ... what a decrepit shithole this is. Remnants of buildings appear in the distance, with debris stretching all the way along the coastline. DapperJong looks disgusted, these scenes would not be acceptable in downtown Pyongyang. "Be positive!", Benwah83 chimes in, "We could have been dropped at Whitten Oval"

One look at the remaining flogs that I am stuck with and every ounce of positivity leaves my body quicker than an Adelaide crowd at 3/4 time. Covering every part of the spectrum, these flogs should be grateful that Dinsdale has arrived because they sure as shit are a sandwich short of a picnic.

Memories flood back thick and fast and the lingering odour becomes seemingly more familiar. I walk hesitantly away from the group and search for the source of the emanating aura. Beyond the palms I spot it, a body of water so sickening a dark cloud hangs above it.

Now I know precisely where we have been stranded ... The Islands of Bathwater Bay



Get me the **** out of here!

 

[Stan_Darsh72]

. Cooksen stalls and starts splashing Allikat, having never made a girl wet before he jumps at the opportunity to seal the deal and quarter poundher.

I am one smooth mofo

 

[Morganashlee]

I am one smooth mofo

Hopefully for you this island is part of another continent lol

 

[ChappyUK]

I am one smooth mofo

I think she's implying Nicky Dal would put you to shame.

 

[Stan_Darsh72]

Challenge #1

Dearest Diary, I dont know why i knicked cameron mccarthys diary from Benwah83 but who cares i need something to write in.

I was going to the airport as i won the bay 13 photoshopping comp for the week and got invited to this island and it required the usage of a hydrofoil plane to travel to, however i was very weary when i looked at the capatin, who constantly talked over everyone, called people a bitch and had severe emotions about gary ablett jr.

A man in a mod do rag gave myself and numerous others consent forms to be on the island as according to them there can be a severe risk of melting and meeting a divvy man fan on the island, I signed the consent form but when doing so I got jabbed with a needle which made me pass out.

The island where i am on is very tropical for some reason but it feels like the isalnd is decaying but it does not feel as bad as being in west horsham which is a story for another day

When I woke up I saw the hydrofoil has been crashed and there are many suriviours that i have found on the island with me, i walk over to them while trying to find my luggage as i could not live without my limited edition the streak dvd and my fabled cook book. I walk and i can find a person who is wearing a cats shirt hug the hydofoil captain about his dreams of gary ablett jr and that how it is ok we have Rhys Stanley now.

I shake my head in disbelief and continue to walk along where is see 2 people talking about accountcy things, It looks like one had been battered and bruised form what appeared to be a big watch and the other was gushing over his love for equity and all that bullshit.

The second one introduced himself as JoseMourinho and he demanded that i give any photos or hints of cameron mccarthy going to freo, I tell him to **** off as i walk away a cranky old man comes up to be and tells me to be weary of the 2 evil looking fellows sitting down by themselves near the water and they look like they will do whatever it takes to get off this island, the cranky old man leaves as he tells me that he must read exerpts from "I was the crap twin" A brad scott story with foreword by Sooz.

I hurdle over a drunk passed out ranga, and see that the captain is agruing with a lady with a big watch and after many words the lady calmy takes off her watch and whacks it across the captains head and i think the captain is dead "holy ****" i yell and the watch lady stares me down and walks away while giving me glare. I think to myself what the **** is going on in a place called East Geelong Island

 

[A Cut Above]

Challenge #1 entry








"Mmmmmm......." he moaned with infinite pleasure & longing. I frowned. This had already gone too far and now he had me trapped by his ample frame.

"I have a large Brownlow... would you like to see it? Its shiny and hard, maybe you can polish it for me."

He was so close now his curlish locks were brushing my face and I was overwhelmed by his aftershave. "Nat, I only came here to talk about football...."

"I know what you want because I want it too.... don't fight it..." To my horror I saw he had one hand around my belt buckle and was slowly untying it...

I woke to the sound of deus ex machina ringing in my ears. My head ached and my vision span.... was this another acid flashback?

No I realized, as the sky yawned in front of me and the earth swam into view beneath my feet. Pain, fear, and confusion.. but behind all was the memory of a plane. A midnight charter over a stormy sea, a tiny Cessna buffeted by howling winds, and a cabin shared by disreputable faces.

Had I been flying back to my private island in the Bahamas? Was I being taken back to Australia in chains for my smuggling activities? With a pang of regret it dawned on me that the memory of my old life had been wiped clean by the trauma of whatever had brought me to this place.

Suddenly my body relaxed of its' own accord and again the darkness took me.

I cannot say how long consciousness deserted me, it may have been minutes or days. When I awoke the acrid stench of sulfur filled me as my mind grasped its first cohesive thought; "island or continent? I wondered.

Sitting up and rubbing the dirt from my eyes the landscape gradually solidified from a shifting, nameless thing into one laden with hopelessness and despair. It was horrible. Stretched out in front of me was an endless vista of pools of muck dotted with rotten brambles, punctuated with gnarled trees of drooping decay, themselves strangled by all manner of roots and vines.

"Wonderful" I muttered. "I always wanted a holiday in the Dagobah system".

Musing that even a harsh landscape can be conquered by Man's ingenuity, my hopes fell further upon turning my head and glancing behind me. I was not alone... most of my companions from that fateful flight had survived.

As I surveyed their motley faces it occurred to me that at least being murdered & r*ped would be preferable to a slow death from starvation.

I walked among them, politely nodding my head or offering a weak smile while I helped the injured to their feet, wondering if any of these dubious characters would become worthwhile companions.

Having read The Lord of the Flies as a child, my instincts warned me that a group stranded in a wasteland of few resources would soon give birth to competition & rivalries, and a man who stands alone is an easier target than one surrounded by allies. I must be brave and hide my suspiciousness from them, with one hand offering friendship, the other curled into a fist to guard against treachery.

Surrounded but alone, trapped but free to wander, owner of nothing but master of all the eye could see, truly this was a strange fate I shared with these strangers.

As the hot sun blazed overhead I looked up and saw a lone cloud on the horizon, floating silently in a sea of nothing. As it slowly crawled across the sky I silently vowed not to be beaten, that despite all the tortures of this land and its' inhabitants I would SURVIVE.

Thus began my first day in Fyfetopia.

 

[Probsty]

Challenge #1 entry.

I came to and found myself on a boat with about a dozen other 'Mods'. I use that term very loosely as I couldn't recognise any of this group. Maybe they are podcasters.

There was one very old campaigner who introduced himself as royals1922. Boy this guy must have been a mod since the beginning. He'll be lucky if he can get out of the boat let alone survive a few weeks in the jungle.

This other bloke calling himself Yidaki whispered in my ear that he had smuggled about 5 avocados in up his arse and that if I'd be his friend he'd share them with me. Avocado already taste like arse so it couldn't harm the taste.

As I looked further around the boat there was a couple of boring looking idiots making accounting jokes, the guy from the IT crowd, a bloke with a wok on his head doing an asian impersonation and a cougar pashing a kid in the corner that I really hoped wasn't her son.

I thought to myself 'This doesn't seem right' 'No one on this boat looks like mod material. They just look like garden variety flogs'

A sinking feeling came over me abd the blood drained from my face.

Where the **** was I?

Just then the boat pulled up to what looked like a deserted island. 'This can't be right' I thought. My agent told me we would be staying in the Queensland rainforest.

The producer ushered us off the boat and pointed at an area amongst the palm trees and said. ' That's home guys. See you later'. They then sped off in the boat.

I really started to panic now. I looked at the group of flogs staring at me and then at the boat speeding off into the distance. I can't do this.

I ran into the water and shouted.

'I'M A MOD. GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!!'

They didn't hear me. I yelled again. No luck.

I looked around to the flogs and a camp looking guy dressed in a mesh t shirt fashioned out of a Hawks jumper says to me. 'Where do you think you are honey? This is Survivor'

'You're ******* kidding me'

It the dawned on me. Those gooses Starburns and BigJoeD_ and Teach must have done this as part of my initiation

One of the flogs then started laughing and clapping. He came up to me and said. 'Hey I'm Stronzo I used to be a mod and the pricks did the same thing to me. You're here now just enjoy it'

One of the boring accountants then popped his head in and said. ' Are you guys mods? I'm boydshow can I hang with you guys?'

'NO!!! **** off' we shouted in unison.

Just then Jeff 'Probsty' Probsty appears from behind a palm tree.

'Welcome Survivors' he said. He then looks at me and says 'especially you ChappyUK. They got you good'.

'Cheers campaigner' I thought to myself.

'Your first task is to name this island.' Probsty said.

I looked at the shithole around me and pictured Teach in the Mod lounge back home laughing and saying 'We ******* got the prick good'

I thought there can be only be one name for this hell hole.

East Geelong Island

You left out the bit where you cried like a mothergoose.

 

[Dinsdale]

“Challenge #1 entry.”

Diary Entry.
Its like deja vu all over again. Again with the waking up. Again with the waking up not knowing where I am. Again with the waking up not knowing where I am and surrounded by wierdos. Again with the waking up not knowing where I am and surrounded by wierdos some of who are already pairing and tripling up with scant regard for decency or any idea on how to spell it.

I'm wondering why the water on these islands is always stagnant? Why is my vacinity both a thick jungle and a barren hill at the same time? I made my way to the top of a barren hill encrusted with thick jungle and surveyed my surroundings and fellow islanders...did none of them shave? Are they emo's or hipsters? Why all the cardigans? Why are they whinging so much? Why so many questions?

I'm naming this dump Neckbeard Island...the neckbeards will never be truly happy. However, I'm happy I have fresh sandwiches in my backpack...

 

[Haduken]

Challenge Entry 1

It was supposed to have been a routine flight to Wangaratta. DapperJong and I had boarded at Tullamarine without incident, strangely a small group of non-Essendon supporters had also gathered on the tarmac to board. They appeared to be held up by all the consent forms they had to fill in, seemingly oblivious to each completed form being tossed into a paper shredder by zackah once it was done.

Once aboard the plane quickly lifted off when, perhaps just a few minutes after take-off, the pilot screamed as his headset sparked with electricity and he slumped forward over the controls. Wondering if this was just one of Dapper Jong’s little ‘much glorious jokes’ I was wandering up to the cockpit to try and figure out what was going on when a woman’s voice echoed over the planes intercom.

“Sorry shitheads, I hope you’re comfortable, you’re going on a little detour.”

“Oh No Morganashlee had cancelled our flight and somehow gotten it diverted!” Somehow she had used her flight center powers to gain direct control of the plane. Again! Dapper Jong would have Doss flogged for this one (The D/H had been obsessed with the soccer lately!) “I’ve booked you all on a holiday to the scene of my greatest ever Internet victory! Over the last year I’ve had a crack team of flogs working on it for me! Haha”

The rest of the plane’s occupants squealed in fright. Morgs might just have gone mad with power and e-fame but she was still a Collingwood supporter, so there would be a ****-up somewhere, we just needed to be ready for it! Looking out the window to try and get an idea of where we were heading I saw Melbourne disappearing in the distance, below us was a large Paddle Steamer covered in what looked like bikini-wearing short people smeared in some kind of Yoplait. It could possibly be Fruit of the Forest; although it was hard to tell from up here.

“Mod Party at Teach’s place” I turned to see Stronzo looking down with a look on his face normally reserved for survivors of Concentration Camps. Chappyuk was next to him, looking horrified. Behind both of them was boydshow who appeared to crying, while rocking back and forth slightly murmuring to himself “I should be there now, covered in short people and Yoplait! I should have been there!” Duritz gave him a comforting reach-around, cupping him gently while whispering "I know buddy! I know."

Suddenly the plane went into a steep dive towards an island I’d not seen before... There was the sound of a massive impact. I awoke to find myself on a tropical beach. A Cut Above was lurking about asking if anyone needed “ass to mouth resuscitation”? I must have misheard. Morgs had somehow already found the time to change into a bikini and was looking about imperiously. “Morgs” I mumbled, “How did you get a tropical island somewhere south of Geelong?”

Morgs laughed triumphantly. “After my win last year I had Alfred_ shipped to the volcano here. His constant nuclear melting has raised the average temperature here to an almost constant 32 degrees! The rest of the squad moved in, and CarnDaTiggs runs the place and all 25 staff I employ here!”

“Employ?” I wondered, "doing what exactly?"

“He manages the call center for customer service for my dating company, “MorganAshleyMadison.com”. He and the rest of the TS Squad were so good at impersonating sex-starved, delusional and desperate middle-aged women I made him the manager and let him and the rest of them move onto the island.

“Wait, CarnDaTiggs lives here?” I said in genuine shock now.

Morgs smirked “All the Terror Squad does, and so, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Survivor! Welcome to your new home! Welcome to Camberwell!”

I looked about at my fellow castaways, I would need to assess them more closely, but there was no time now.."

To be continued…

 

[Kangaroos4eva]

Challenge #1 entry


Dear diary,

What a day today was for me and so many others trapped on this island, though l have a distinct feeling that it’s a peninsula. My day started as l awoke behind bars on the prison ship, the P.C. Chris Gayle, captained by Duritz, with a number of flogs.

Bang, shudder! What was that? That was the ship running aground. The skipper decided to make a shit decision after drinking again and ran the ship aground, with everyone escaping onto the island.


This side of the island, resembling Tasmania, was covered in snow and ice.


I kept hearing strange voices from furry, mullet covered creatures that kept shouting carn the paer and l saw John Butcher shouting “Wilson” at a deflated volleyball for some reason.


I saw a bearded man trying to lick the snow off the ground and just ignored him.

All of a sudden l was knocked out from behind and l woke up on a stretch rack in a very familiar looking cave. I heard two individuals plotting and a servant that looked like KB lurking behind them.

One of the voices was that of bombers03 and the other resembled Bill Cosby.

Bombers kept saying, l will soon literally reveal myself to the world. I’ve already captured my arch-nemesis Starburns_ and made him my slave.

Starburns aka KB pictured below:


Suddenly, bombers say me listening in and walking towards me, he stated to himself, “now l am going to have some fun with you,” holding a 12 inch fluffy dildo that belonged to teach for research purposes.

My anus hadn’t clenched so fast since that one time at band camp, where l stuck, l mean, Majak Daw tried to hug me and l played with his hair, but that is another not convicted story.

I feared for the worst, but all of a sudden, DapperJong appeared to save me.




Dapper jong quickly slayed bill cosby, Starburns jumped in to protect his master, stating “l’ll save you my master.” Dapperjong smote the little pimply shit, allowing bombers to make his escape.

Pictured below: Starburns in his true form fighting DapperJong.


Then both Dapperjong and l made our way across to the other side of Punt Road Mountain to a tropical village.

There, was Morganashlee looking in a lustful manner at a picture of teach with hair.

Royals watching re-runs of the cosby show.

boydshow and José discussing micro-economics, whilst Red mist threw his faeces at them both, telling Jose to **** off.

A cut above was wrapped up in a blanket, muttering to himself, can’t sleep, hird is going to inject me, can’t sleep, hird is going to get me.

And that leaves Duritz, having a drunken sleep in a hammock.

Hanging from the tree l saw Brent Harvey fighting a small hairy woman, which l assumed was his wife, over a $1 car raffle ticket, that wasn’t rigged.

All the survivors greeted me and stated welcome to the Island of Lost Flogs.

 

[TootToot!]

Challenge #1 entry

(Part I)

29/12/2015

“I can’t go back to gaol! Not again!” I exclaimed to myself through heaving breaths as I turned down the alley and forced my way through the door. As satisfying as it was to watch the flaming bag of dog shit burn on Rita Punani’s doorstep, it wasn’t worth the sodomy at Bathurst.

The sirens passed and began to fade into the night air as stood silently on my haunches, trying to regain my breath and a voice behind me enquired:

“Can I halp you, sir?” in what appeared to be some sort of heavy oriental accent. I turned to the direction of the voice and then looked around me to find that I was in what appeared to be a small shop selling curious items from the Far East.

“No thanks mate, I just need a moment for the heat to die down and I’ll let you be.” I replied, wiping the sweat from my brow.

“Perhaps I can interest you –“

I sharply cut the man off “Listen Mr Miyagi! I’m not looking for a ****ing gremlin so get off my case!”

The man sighed. “Well firstly Ricky-San, the man in the Gremlins movie was selling a Mogwai, not a gremlin…”

“How do you know my name?!” I asked, clearly shaken.

“My niece Yumi runs the dry cleaner’s near your house, the one that took the restraining order out against you.”

“Which one?!”

The man held his hand up “Never mind, these details are irrelevant. But what is important is that I may have an item that can help catapult you back to stardom.”

I looked around the room. “But I’m already a superstar?!” I exclaimed

“Stop lying to yourself Ricky-San. You and I both know you ate a can of expired dog food for dinner last night and you slept in a storm drain.” The old man said.

My brow furrowed, “You’ve been following me.”

The man shuffled behind his counter and unlocked a draw to remove what looked like an old, soiled map. “This may be the key to your resurgence, but it will cost you dearly.”

“Hmmm. Would you swap it for an autographed copy of my latest book?!”

The man’s expression soured like I had just farted in his face and he motioned to a book stand in the corner where 30 copies of my book sat collecting dust.

“No, I will require something from you that is far more valuable.” he said.

“Okay old man,” I replied. “Chuck in some of that ground up Tiger Penis and we’ll discuss terms…”

To be continued…

#TootToot!

 

[DapperJong]

Challenge #1 Entry


Dear Dennis,

I hope this finds you well, and I hope there was enough meth in the carrier pigeon for this to reach you.

I'm finally here!! What a weird place. My tent is ok I guess, I mean, most people back home would kill for a place like this. I can't say that I'm used to it yet but anyway.

I packed my herbal moisturiser that you told me to pack, I know I'll need my skin to be soft and glowing in this harsh environment.

What I'm really looking forward to is all of the things I will learn while I'm here. The first thing should probably be the meaning of the word 'survive'. I have no concept of this word. But, the competition is named after it so I'll get started on that after I finish writing this. Other things include cooking, washing myself, give myself a sweeeeeet-ass fade haircut to look fr-fr-fr-fr-eeessshhhhhh all the time. Oh and I've been hearing whispers that it's good to learn how to not get r*ped by some dude in a cave.

Also, and I don't want you to take this personally, but I need to learn how to make new friends BY MYSELF. You've been very good to me but if I'm to one day take over the world, I need more than just one friend. You'll always be my number one.

I have to admit it's not going well on that front so far... No one has really spoken to me yet.

I approached a lad named royals1922 and said what I normally say when greeting new people:

America is the arch criminal and unchangeable principal enemy of North Korea

but it seems as though I scared him. Maybe I said it too loud? It was kinda out of nowhere...

Then there was a man called Red mist and I was like hmm i like red so I went to chat to him:

North Korean missiles will reduce Washington, DC, to ashes

I said it really quiet this time. Almost whispering, right next to his ear while I lightly caressed him. I thought that might make things less abrasive but then he just slowly slinked away from me. sigh...

Then this duder called A Cut Above walks in and I was like cutting people to death is cool maybe this guy is too so I waddled on over:

In America, the law of the jungle governs

And sadly, for his sake, he just ignored me. That will be a mistake for ANYONE who ignores that message. Because here we are, in the jungle. And if I have to reduce myself to the tactics of capitalist pigs around the world to win this thing, I will.

Failing that I'll just call in a missile strike (actually can you get Terry on the phone and ask him if he's fixed that shit yet? **** me dead).

Tinder doesn't work very well here.

There's only two girls that ever show up and I haven't even got a single match yet. What gives??
I KNOW I'm a nice guy with lot's of ambition, was also voted sexiest man alive. What more do you ****ing want?!?! Anyway I'll keep you updated on this. I hope I don't have to send them dick pics, that's where it usually falls down.

You're not still getting calls from Carmen are you? If she bothers you again I'll slap her **** off.

Anyway that's kind of it for now.... Oh yeah I have to name the bloody island...

um

let's see.....

Win or lose I guess I'll come back here and invade, take the place over kinda thing.

NORTH KOREA 2: SECOND BEST KOREA

 

[TootToot!]

Challenge #1 entry

(Part II)

01/01/2016


“Oh, that feels good. Really good! Geez don’t stop I’m almost there! Huh?! What the ****?!” I woke sharply, my head still thumping like I had been hit by a Byron Pickett shirtfront after all the champagne and yayo the night before to find my mobile lodged in my arse crack, vibrating to notify me that my agent was calling.

I swiped across and answered “Jesus Max, what do you call this ungodly hour, it’s barely 3pm?!”

“Sorry Ricky, but I’ve got news I thought you’d like to hear!” My schlepp of an agent dribbled down the phone in his whiny little voice. Max was the kind of guy that would stand next to you at the urinal in an otherwise empty rest room. A bit of a weird little chump, but a hard worker none the less.

“Well spit it out you pathetic little worm!” I yelled into the phone as I stood in front of the mirror at the basin where I had stopped to flex my pecs. They were looking sharp today, like less man-booby than usual. “Good for you Ricky.” I whispered to myself as I pulsated the muscles on my chest individually, “good for you.”

“Oh yes sorry Ricky. I just got a call back from the producers of Survivor, I’ve managed to get you spot!”

“You bloody ripper!” I exclaimed, almost throwing my back out. “Well done Maxy-pad! If things pay off there’s gonna be a nice little bonus in it for you!” I said as I glanced over to a pile of my unsold books and setting one aside to personally autograph and send to him.

“I hope it’s not another copy of your book Ricky, you’ve already given me 3 and that’s not including the other 10 that I bought…”

“Of course not Maxy!” I replied. Damn that little shit. I’ll still send him another anyway for being an ungrateful little snot.

“Great! Can’t wait! In the meantime, I’ll send you and email with all the details about the show!” Max chimed.

“Excellent, thanks Max. And do me a solid would ya? Pop by later with some cold-sore cream, I’ve got another herpes out-break I need to take care of before putting my beautiful face on camera again!” I replied before hanging up on him.

I made my way to the table where the map was and stood over it whilst nodding. “You better be worth the blow-job I gave to that old Chinese bloke!” I said to the map.

Damn I could really go some pop-tarts…

To be continued…


#TootToot!

 

[JoseMourinho]

This TootToot story might be longer than all my essays combined.

 

[Duritz]

Wtf is with these two part things?

 

[TootToot!]

Challenge #1 entry

(Part III)

05/01/2016


“This isn’t ****ing first class!” I yelled in the little pip-squeak’s face. “Ricky doesn’t do coach! I’m the ****ing star of this show and I demand to be treated like!” The little man scurried off, cowering like Dyson Heppell hearing foot-steps as I flung my NW magazine at him. I made a note of his name for when I make a formal complaint to the producers; Chief, the most stable genius,.

I looked around at the rest of the contestants. What the hell had Max gotten me into? A more pathetic collection of miscreants I have not seen. And the stench! My god the stench that permeated from the mouths of most of them! It literally made my guts churn!

I sat back in my seat and clicked my fingers at the boat attendant waitress lady thingy (seriously, what the **** do you call them?) and she slowly acknowledged me and made her way over.

“Another complimentary Harvey Wallbanger please love!” I spat at her. She nodded and turned to take care of my drink. I could tell by the way she walked that she wanted a piece. “They all want a piece” I whispered to myself before leaning down to kiss my bicep.

“Excuse me sir, would you mind autographing my breasts?” a sexy, high pitched little voice said from behind me.

“Well of cour- AHH!” I turned to see a fat little ranga with his shirt open, covered in freckles like he’d spent the day hiding behind a flyscreen door whilst people flung pieces of shit at him. It was the one they called Durex. “GET THE **** OUT OF HERE YOU DISGUSTING LITTLE RODENT!” I bellowed at him as he fled, his eyes wild with fear and an obvious erection protruding from his shorts.

I sat back in my seat and looked out the window as the island came into view on the horizon and my mood brightened at the thought of map that sat safely in my pocket. The old man call it Cheijixian Island, which loosely translated to Lemon Chicken with no added MSG. I chuckled to myself – I should write that down for my next stand up gig! But no, I won’t be calling it that, I’m gonna give it a name far more respectable and to be remembered:

Nixonville


#TootToot!

 

[DapperJong]

Zzzz

 

[Duritz]

Challenge #1 Entry

We moored like a finished prostitute on the beaches of an unknown island. I had kept to myself, semi deliberately but also because by ****ing God most of these losers would not shut up. One flog told the longest ****ing story in history - and he even broke it up into parts 1,2 and 3! Then, when he finished, it reached no tangible conclusion anyway. Insane ramblings from nearly all of them.

However, that was not the worst of it. To my horror i realised that I had no phone coverage.

"No..." I muttered in fear. "Tell me this isn't so. Tell me it isn't so..."

But it was so. SOS only.

"Noooo!!!" I yelled. "I have one I really like in the last at Sandown and I haven't backed it yet!!!"

No one cared, however. They were lost in varying levels of debauchery ranging from faecal consumption to group copulation. Several of them were involved in this, I had overheard them earlier, they were calling themselves "the podcast crew".

This was all interrupted, however, by an unexpected sight: a man with flowing, perfect blonde hair rode up to us, mounted on a horse with the face of a woman. As he arrived he dismounted, flicking his perfect locks slightly so they hung fetchingly off his face. As he dismounted, the horse sat down, and to my surprise pulled out a notepad and pen.

"Greetings," said the man, "I am Sir James Albert Hird, ruler of this land. With my faithful steed here Tania we rule this entire island. Let me show you around. We are in a really good place."

We followed him down a track until we came upon a giant hall.

"You have heard of the great Sphinx of Egypt?" He asked rhetorically. "Well, it has long been theorised that beneath one of the sphinxes paws like an ancient Hall of Records. This is not actually true, because that priceless and immensely important Hall in fact lies here. I have it. Come in, and I shall show it to you."

We followed Sir Albert and his horse inside.

"Here on my left is my two premierships," he said. "I was great in both of those. Further on is my Brownlow, which I totally deserved, then my five best and fairests, I was really great to win those. Next, my All Australian awards - five times you know. I take full responsibility for that."

None of us could speak. Dumbfounded, we were. "He sure says some darnedest things!" someone quipped.

"In fact," he continued, "there are many awards in my hall of records, but I want to show you the most important, the most significant, the most special of all."

He took us now into a chamber to the side, dimly lit. Against one wall sat a vault, made of gold. On the face of the vault was a carving. It was the face of Sir Albert. Underneath his face were carved the words "So Brave..."

He walked up to the vault, bowed his head to it, then opened it. He removed three items from within. "My three ANZAC day medals."

I was aware of a slurping sound all of a sudden. I looked down and noticed one of the Essendon supporting castaways was on his knees, performing fellatio on Sir Albert.

"Yes," moaned Sir Albert, "that must feel so good for you to do that."

The rest of us left in disgust. Walking out of the hall, we noted the centaur waiting at the door.

"You are welcome to stay here for as long as you wish," she said, "so long as you abide by one rule: The Word of Sir Albert is law, and unquestionable. Even if The Word contradicts an earlier version of The Word, it is still law. Even if it makes no sense whatsoever, it is still law. Always. In the name of Sir Albert."

We crept away from there as quickly as we could, and made our way to the opposite side of the island. We noted as we went that there were no other inhabitants. Sir Albert and his centaur were all alone on this island. They ruled no one at all. They inhabited a world solely and utterly of their own invention. Everything here was their construct. To the rest of the world this place did not exist, only was it so in the joint realities of Sir Albert and his centaur. Thus did we name this place, The Island of Hirdlantis!

 

[hazard]

Better luck next time

I copied the title from BayMod_ : http://www.bigfooty.com/forum/threa...os-islands-2015.1086298/page-12#post-36818633

In retrospect, this was a very bad idea.

 

[royals1922]

I am one smooth mofo

Paddles is smoother

 

[TootToot!]

Challenge #1 Entry

snip

I I I ME ME ME

Geez what a boring narcissistic campaigner you are.

 

[hazard]

I I I ME ME ME

Geez what a boring narcissistic campaigner you are.

Homer: You see? You see? I just left my first session and I haven't opened my mouth yet.

 

[Duritz]

I I I ME ME ME

Geez what a boring narcissistic campaigner you are.

It's called writing in the first person...

 

[Yidaki]

I I I ME ME ME

Geez what a boring narcissistic campaigner you are.

Boring? It was pretty good actually.

Your three part TLDR essay, now that was boring. Stick to sales bitch.

 

[TootToot!]

It's called writing in the first person...

Well Ricky likes reading about his favourite subject: Ricky.

Remember that for next time.

Boring? It was pretty damn good actually.

Your three part TLDR essay, now that was boring. Stick to sales bitch.

Hey Shit-dicky, if you're too slow to recognise self-deprecating humour then maybe you should stick to your initial excuse of "how you don't have enough time to participate" despite making 50 posts in this thread already.

#TootToot!