Failed Wish Game -NONRedwallType

[Maxodis]

Granted! Your pie-home transforms into Giganitc Robot Sir Winston Churchill. Needless to say, Giant Robot Hitler is none to happy to hear about this. they proceed to do epic battle with lollipops.

Here's the BAD thing. You've now given me reason to bring the concept of Giant robot Sir Winston Churchill into existence.

Oh well.

I wish I had more Symphony X music :/

[Wildrun]

Granted. You ahve all the Symphony X music you could ever wish for. Upon playing it, however, you fail to realize that your speakers are turned up full blast. Literally. Your house blows into space, and you end up floating around, trying to explai to Rocky the Immortal Space Lawyer that you really don't want to sue for damages, because the blast forced all the music into your head. Rocky the immortal Space Lawyr does not agaree and you prceed to Alien Court. They rule the veridct of being Supremely Annoyed and eat you. Crud.

...I wish I could bring a Giant Robot Steve Irwin to the sight without causing some strange chain reaction. ^^"

[ferretface]

Granted! However, my Pie/Churchill/Robot/House with me inside makes some kind of inspiring speech....all the pies, Churchill statues and robots of the world unite...Giant Robot Hitler does the same...making a MASSIVE War....of course, Churchill brings the 'colonials'to fight as well...including Giant Robot Steve Irwin...Steve Irwin is then sacrificed to some Turkish statues for no particular strategic gain.

And the war goes on, until Giant Robot Hitler drinks a gasoline-cyanide thingytail that fails to kill him. Then he has a Mountain Dew shower, exploding in a huge ordnance wave, like an Atomic Bomb...obliterating a couple of Cities from the face of the world.

So, victory for the Pies. PIES RULE!

Then my house gets fired.

Meh.

And then elected as Prime Minister a few years later.

It's too hard to get a giant pie robot mobile home onto a plane, so we have to float on a pie dish.

So with that sorted out, I wish I had enough money to hire a helicopter, fly out from my deathtrap, and buy a new house.

EDIT: Note that Ultra-Steve didn't CAUSE the chain reaction...he merely died in it.

[Yves]

Granted. However, having enough money to do something does not mean that those particular items are on the market at that particularly fortuitous time. As it happened, dear old Max had just bought all the helicopters available at the time, just to irk poor Retchen. So, Retchen found that the pieces of paper clutched in his paws were absolutely useless to him.

On the other hand, he did have enough money to buy a house inside the deathtrap.

I wish the death-trap would hurry up and finish its business, while Max and I are somewhere safe.

[Ashstripe]

Granted. But Ash and his Garden Gnome mafia decided, for no particular reason, whatsoever. That we'd bottle a sample of it and mail it off to your undisclosed location while you are on permanent leave.

I wish Johnny Gnome would help Pappa Gnome finish building our Giant Robot Mussolini...WWII GIGANTIC AXIS ROBOTS FTW!!11one!eleventy11

After all, GRH has developed free-will, along with Sparrow, who managed to take his jumpsuit off. And someone has to take care of GRSWC and GRSI. And there's your chain-reaction, in the name of corrupting previous wishes.

[ferretface]

"HEY! WHAT'RE'YER DOIN' WITH MY DEATHTRA-HEY! YOU CAN'T DO THAT!
...TAKE THE WHOLE DAMN THING!"

Granted, but Giant Robot Mussolini comes back into Italy again...they spend 2 years trying to execute him again, but nothing works until someone decides the only way to destroy him is to throw him into Mount Doom...

I wish my evil Giant Robot deathtrap piehome Churchill would give up this business of being prime minister in England and instead represent the Pies at the Council of (insert Italian left-wing presidential candidate here) and be tasked with throwing Mussolini INTO Mount Doom...after 2 years of frantic paddling, you're bound to end up in Europe eventually...

This is becoming seriously WEIRD.

But my house is pretty awesome.

*Sigh* If only it could fly...

[Wildrun]

Granted, he comes home and does exactly what you say. Follows it to the letter. In the process, he accidentally ruins a small buisness by attracting all the magnets they were selling to his person, Rorschach coutns that as stealing, and kicks his sorry robot buttocks.

...WEIRD. *evil laugh here*

...I wish I was understooooodd~!!!! D:

...Uh, NO. X'D I wish that I could fly. And could not be corrupted by being shot down in a no-fly zone. Or abducted by a UFO. Beat THAT! Bwhahahaaa~!

[Maxodis]

Granted! You get shot down in a military training accident.

And that's not corruption. That's a little something that we like to call completion.

I wish my response to her wish had been a bit longer.

[Swing]

Granted. Your response to me was so long I got old reading it, forgot to feed GRH in my old age, and thus the ensuing rampage occured.

...Curse completion, I never use it! DX *shakes fish fist*

I wish I could take over the Ash Cave and taht I could use the cool gizmos in there to make this reply longer (I am not ripping off Maxeh! )

[Yves]

Granted. However, those cool gizmos not only make your post longer, but they do it by involving Global Warming, The Seven Horsemen of Young Conservative Dogs, Russia, and generally incorporating the end of the universe into your response.

I wish I could somehow capitalize monetarily on all the apocalypses I'm causing.

[Wildrun]

D: *dies* GLOBAL WARMING?! *goes on rampage* NOooooOoOooOOOOOoooo~!!! DX<

...Granted, Yves ol' buddy, you capitalize hugely on all the chaos you leave in your wake--and now the French, English, Australian, American, German, AND Namibian governments are bound to hold you directly responsible. You spend the rest of you days scraping barnacles off Log-a-Log's raft.

I wish my mother would let me turn the stinkin' lights off when we're not home ((I mean, c'mon, we're not even HERE!)).

[Yves]

But... I love the French. How could they blame ME for doing what they (and as a result I) do best... I feel so... betrayed... *sniff*

Still, the Germans don't surprise me. When your greatest contribution to the world involves clever ways of turning pig intestines and ground cow-tissues into over-salted sports-food, you probably aren't going to approach the apocalypse all that intelligently.

Granted. Under ordinary circumstances, this energy-saving technique would contribute to cutting carbon emissions and halting the advance of Global War... *erhrm* excuse me, Global Climate Change. However, because you already brought about the Green religion's apocalypse, Global Warming had somehow plunged us into an ice age, and we were really relying on that green-house gas to keep the globe inhabitable. Now, there's absolutely nothing left to warm the globe, and we all die slow, excruciating deaths involving fantastic cold-fronts. Germany and Namibia get it particularly badly.

I wish the French would recognize the fraternity I share with them, and embrace me with acceptance and love, and halt all this nonsense about rat-fink evilness, my role in the apocalypses, and whatnot.

[Tirael]

Granted! The French welcome you with open arms and love. Unfortunately, that's all they give you, and you spend weeks wandering about Paris with no shelter, almost no food or water, and a complete inability to understand exactly what it is everyone's saying to you. Eventually, you break down and scream an angry tirade against France and its people- right in front of an English-speaking reporter who quotes you in an angry editorial. When the people of the country read it, they become furious at you, chase you around Paris, and eventually beat you to death with baguette. Avez-vous apprécié votre temps en France?

I wish that buying a ferret was legal in California under both state law and my mother's laws.

((Oh, and by the way, I'm half-German...))

[dirgecallers]

Granted! But then all ferrets become sentient.....and take over the universe and feed Gray Davis to a giant mouse trap. Then Ferrets shall enslave mankind and force everyone to act in hollywood movies for their amusement.

*THUN* Wehn A person is too old to act anymore he co-stars with Tom cruise

I wish that Humanity would get off their butts and fund a manned mission to Mars

[Tirael]

Manned mission to space? Granted! After four years of preparation, NASA sends out their brand-spanking-new starship Venture off to the red planet. However, once they arrive, they find with the Fleet of the Sentient Ferret Alliance, which has already claimed the planet as their first imperial landholding. Naturally, this disagreement leads to the construction of several more vessels by us humans, culminating in a fantastic space battle for the solar system. Not only do the humans lose, but the ferrets come to Earth in a severely irritated mood and fire on random points. One laser blast incinerates your house. So much for Mars...

I wish my one weekend with no school responsibilities and work hadn't been filled up with boring and useless activities I hate for all occurring at the worst time possible.

[Yves]

((Oh, now don't go being offended. I regard all nationalities with equal, undiscriminating contempt. Yes, that includes the French. Think about it... I've come here as a pretentious, chauvinistic wielder of incompetent, second-rate villains of the most irritating variety, and I have chosen the French to represent the archetypal me. Coincidence? I think not!!.... Um, well, ok, maybe.

Seriously, my mum's mum's dad's dad, and my mum's dad's dad's dad's dad were German immigrants, making me.... largely German. In fact, it makes me nearly as German as I am English, which accounts for the majority of my heritage. I have nothing against... well um... some Germans, and certainly not German culture.))

Granted. Instead, events of mind-rending loss and agony fill your one weekend with no school and/or work responsibilities. You lose your job due to reasons of divine intervention, your school explodes, and everyone you have ever known either turns on you with pointy objects, or turn into chickens, which the pointy-object armed relatives eat for tea-time snacks. When they happen to turn into chickens, through preternatural processes not fully understood by modern man, you feel as though you're being eaten until the chicken is fully digested. You must now live the rest of your life as a fugitive, knowing that anyone who has anything to do with you will either turn into a chicken, or try to kill you.

Oh, and you are also now fully German, instead of only half.

Yes.

I wish that I was less pretentious, and more sensitive to the emotions of those who are not... well, me.

[Tirael]

[[Don't worry, I'm not offended, just a handy little fun fact. I had meant to put a after that; I probably should have figured it would be interpreted wrong otherwise. Besides, I've heard far worse. Far, far worse.]]

Can I have the envelope please? -opens- Granted! You and your characters become the textbook example of compassion, love, and empathy. However, all this gets particularly annoying in the long term, and before long...well, you know all those people with pointy objects? Yeah, well they won't do anything. However, all your characters are denounced as Mary-Sues and Gary-Stus, and you are banished to the Anti-France, where you are promptly beheaded for liking France. But hey, at least you'll have an interesting story to tell during your fishing trips in the afterlife...

I wish I had a car. And a license. And enough money to keep it gassed up and working properly. Oh, and parental permission. (There, find a creative way around that. ^^)

[Yves]

Granted. However, whoever issued your license must have been the brainless evolutionary semi-mammalian monkey-ancestor who is responsible for the Twilight series, because you don't have the slightest idea how to drive. After two minutes of trying despite this, you slam into the hand of a strangely pale teenager, who sparkles like Lucy in the sky when in the sun, and is not a highly unpretentious non-vampire. Thus, you innocently begin the latest unsightly scar on Brahm Stoker's once promising idea. Because of this, I decide that the pointy-object wielders are not getting the job done quickly enough, and come after you myself.

WITH A VERY POINTY CRUCIFIX.

I wish I weren't an erm... uh... what's a LoRA appropriate way of saying smart-**bleepers**?

[Wildrun]

*dies of laughter* Oh gods, more TwiTard bashing! XDThe girls at my school would have a bloody fit ('scuse). XD

It's sad that I only have time to post here before having to do something. -.-"

...GRANTED! *dramtic TSO/Pendulum/Blast music comes on and there is a a drumroll* Igrant your wish with something so damn hilarious and *cough* ORIGINAL cough* taht your smart-bleepers attitude melts right off you, you are forever smiling/laughing, people put you in a fun house (which is in no way really amusing, but hey, gotta give the Joker props for the puns), and you end up laughing so hard at one of the J-man's Kiling Jokes that your #@*! falls off like that commerical on the superbowl, but no one bothers to get it reattached.

*dusts off hands and smirks, pleased with self* There!

...I wish I had more time to post something not that, if it were living, wouldn't have cottage cheese for brains. o_0

[Ashstripe]

The girls in my whole city would come after you with flaming torches and pitch forks. And likely drag their boyfriends along for the Twilight RIOT and as well as the Twilight MOVIE.

What can I say? I'm male.


Granted. You do in fact, post something that does come to life. It's alive. It's a monster. I call him Post-lore and he has enslaved many a good forum to his chains of witty remarks.

It's only a matter of time before he pursues me for stealing many of his remarks in order to make myself appear more intelligent.


...*Realisation*

I wish I would stop creating these crimes against nature. First Sparrow and the Ash-cave. Then the Garden Gnome Mafia. Then GRH. And now Post-lore.

And that's only the ones on this site .