Never mind WhatsAppitis, Nintendonitis and
- Never mind WhatsAppitis, Nintendonitis and Blackberry Thumb, what about Folditis? Our company is losing 100s of work days to this scourge. We need to do something about it!
- Okay! I'll hack into FoldingStory's server and make the max character count only 60. That should make storytelling impossible! What else should we do?
- Ooh, let's make vowels cost 250 points. That should kill the storytelling, but what about the "collaborative" part? FoldingStory's hippy-dippy agenda needs a little misanthropy, so
- what if we censored socially ambiguous material? It'll be like McCarthyism only for the digital era on a microcosmic scale. We could also liven up FS by mining the backdrop so your
- agents can infiltrate the likes of SlimWhitman and MoralEnd. The head of the NSA steepled his fingers. Who are these people really? He needed a sniveling mole to report back. Chaz?
- BlastedHeath leaned into the mike, "It wasn't me, Senator." Ira Levin and Terry Eagleton snickered in their secret viewing room. The Maple Street Investigations next interrogated
- a known troublemaker & subversive, Valetta Prof. "Mrs. Prof" the Inquisitor began "where were you on the night in question?" "Hello Senator. I was watching my favorite niece. She
- 's kicked cancer's ass, you know. We spent the evening drinking tea & talking about the ravages of radiation. I went home around 11." Valetta answered. The Inquisitor wasn't buying
- it. Valetta seemed shifty. She wouldn't meet the Insquisitor's eyes as she gave her account of her whereabouts. That & she had her hands on her hips, a defensive pose. "I think you
- better put your pants back on", she said with more confidence. "That is, if you can find them." The Inquisitor fell back with a shock, disappearing forever in a puff of Febreeze.
- Started
- 2014-03-26 17:24:22
- Finished
- 2014-04-19 17:32:00
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