Lord_Nightblade

Recluse:
I feel pretty,
Oh, so pretty,
I feel pretty and witty and bright!
And I pity
Any girl who isn't me tonight.

I feel charming,
Oh, so charming
It's alarming how charming I feel!
And so pretty
That I hardly can believe I'm real.

See the pretty girl in that mirror there:
Who can that attractive girl be?
Such a pretty face,
Such a pretty dress,
Such a pretty smile,
Such a pretty me!

I feel stunning
And entrancing,
Feel like running and dancing for joy,
For I'm loved
By a pretty wonderful boy!

Recluse: (singing) These words they come so whimsically,
I know your wife, Biblically

i'd play it

dude, the current Things Lord Recluse Would Never Say thread has been here since October '05 and you're the only person who has objected to it thus far. kindly remove the stick up your backside and keep the meaningless complaints to yourself.

Recluse: Ah, the research has been completed. Let's see what the results were...Yes! Just as I suspected!

Ghost Widow: What is it, my Lord?

Recluse: The word "underpants" is 20% funnier than the word "underwear".

Ghost Widow: What about "panties" my Lord? Would they not be funnier than "underpants"?

Recluse: Don't be rediculous, Ghost Widow. "Panties" are not funny. "Panties" are arousing.

"I'd like to see Carol Channing in spandex."

Recluse: Lord Palmerston!

Statesman: And I say England's greatest prime minister was Pitt the Elder!

Recluse: Lord Palmerston!

Statesman: Pitt the Elder!

Recluse: LORD PALMERSTON!

Statesman: PITT! THE! ELDER!

Recluse: All right Statesman, you asked for this! *decks States and sends him sprawling on the floor*

Sirocco: You show him, my lord! (derisively) Pitt the Elder!

Recluse: LORD PALMERSTON! *decks Sirocco*

Odysseus: Okay Jenkins. It's been a long initiation process for you...

Jenkins: Yeah, my [censored] still hurts from all the paddling.

Odysseus: But you've finally made it. Welcome to the ranks of the warriors. All that remains is for you to chose your mystical weapon.

*on a weapon rack are a black axe, a highly stylized mace, and a broadsword that glows a sickly red*

Jenkins: Oh! Nice sword! I'll take that one.

Odysseus: Very good choice. This particular sword has an enchantment that causes it to severely wound anyone it hits.

Jenkins: Sweet! I'm going out on patrol and see what this baby can do!

Odysseus: Wait, aren't you forgetting something?

Jenkins: Uuummm...I love you?

Odysseus: No, idiot! You're supposed to name your weapon!

Jenkins: Name it? What the hell for?

Odysseus: It's a mighty weapon! It deserves a name worthy of ledgend!

Jenkins: Oh. Ok, I'll call it, uh, Mother.

Odysseus: (frustrated) You will not call it 'Mother'. Try again!

Jenkins: But I just wanted to go hurt heroes with it!

Odysseus: DO IT! But don't call it 'Mother' or 'Daddy,' give it an epic name!

Jenkins: Ok, ok, sheesh! I shall call it....Mr. Hurty!

Odysseus: (muttering) Oy, what a schmuck.

*Suddenly, a hero crashes through the ceiling*

Hero: Odysseus! I've come to put you behind bars!

Odysseus: Quick Jenkins! Defend your leader!

Jenkins: Prepare to feel the wrath of Mr. Hurty!

Hero: *snicker* ha. haha. hahahahahaha! Mr. Hurty?! Bwaaahahahahahahahahahahahaha!

Odysseus: *sigh* Jenkins?

Jenkins: Yes?

Odysseus: Gimme the sword and get the hell out.

*Odysseus watches Jenkins leave. When he's a block away, Odysseus leans back and throws the sword. It flies at the unsuspecting Jenkins, tumbling end over end, and hits him in the left butt-cheek*

Jenkins: AAAHHHH! BLOODY HELL!

t.v. commercial:
Lord Recluse is walking down the street, a gun strapped to his hip. The camera approaches and focuses on his face.
Voice over: Excuse me, is that an Uzi?

Recluse: Why, yes it is. Hey, self-defense is no laughing matter! That why when I want to look out for number one I pack an Uzi. Accept no substitutes.

Sirocco: My lord, I think perhaps you are under too much stress from your ongoing projects. Maybe a hobby alieviate some of the stress.

Recluse: You know, Sirocco, I think you're right. I'm going to go off and find a hobby today!

*5 hours later*

Sirocco: So, my lord, did you find a suitable hobby?

Recluse: Yes, I think I shall enjoy this hobby very much.

Sirocco: Excellent! and what hobby is that sir?

Recluse: I have decided to take up amateur proctology.

On televisions around the world, a close shot of Lord Recluse's head appears.

Recluse: Attention citizens of the world! I have taken over all broadcast frequencies! There is nothing you can do to stop me from delivering my message! And my message is...

the camera zooms out to reveal that he is wearing nothing except his helmet.

Recluse: (dancing and singing) I'm nekked! Uh uh! I'm nekked! uh uh! Nekked, nekked, nekked!

i tend not to post in this tread mostly because what i'd end up saying is something along the lines of, "You have disposable income to spend on commissioned artwork, I hate you!" (my problem really, i don't fault anyone for it, won't mention it again).

but, back to the point, i think a person's ability to do something and do it well relies on a combination of talent and skill. a person with artistic talent who works hard to achieve a high level of skill will always be better than a person with writing talent who works hard to achieve a high level of skill in drawing.

i'm not trying to say that the writer shouldn't give up on learning to draw or shouldn't try. if it's what makes them happy, then they should go for it. like me, my talent is writing. i am, by no stretch of the imagination, mathematically or scientifically inclined. yet, one of my favorite things in the world is quantum physics (i blame Star Trek for that). do i understand the concepts and theories behind quantum physics? not by a long shot. am i going to give up trying to learn about quantum physics because i don't understand it? hell no.

P.S.-since i started reading this thread i've had a nagging urge to start writing a lot more than i currently do, maybe even do some lengthy stories about my main heroes/villains. we'll see what emerges from that.

In the Freakshow section of Sharkhead, hidden among the shacks, there is a sturdy, well built building, out of place among the shacks and shanties of the Freak village. The sign on the outside reads: Electric Ladyland Laptop Dances. Inside, the air is filled with smoke as the Freaks watch poorly built, vaguely female robots dance around.
Seated at the center stage, Black Scorpion, Lord Recluse, and Siege are on a guys' night out.

Recluse: I don't like this place. It's 120 degrees and there's very little oxygen.

Black Scorpion: Shut up and hoot.

The lights dim and a large fembot rolls on stage

Black Scorpion: Hubba-hubba, she is built -- in Mexico, I believe.

Siege: And that ain't silicon, it's tungsten. And plenty of it!

Recluse: (unsure) Uh, yeah. Look at that exhaust fan.

Siege: Ew!

Black Scorpion: Pervert.

Lord Recluse is in the bar of the Golden Giza on singles' night. He walks up to Silver Mantis.

"If I said you had a beautiful body would you take your pants off and dance around a bit?"

Sirocco: What are you reading milord?

Recluse: The City of Heroes forums. Fools, they are announcing to the world their plans to thwart villainy. Look here, on Freedom a task force is forming to go after the Clockwork King. They're blatantly stating they're going to come after him and I bet the fool doesn't even know it.

Sirocco: How can we turn this to our advantage?

Recluse: Well, it says here that within the year the city will be allowing heroes to wear trenchcoats, an item in very high demand yet mysteriously they are not yet permitted to wear them.

Sirocco: But how does this help us?

Recluse: I'm getting to that fool! So, we wait until the day when heroes can start wearing trenchcoats and then...(dramatic pause)...WE STEAL ALL THE TRENCHCOATS IN THE WORLD! BWAHAHAHAHA!

Sirocco: That's your plan?

Recluse: Yes. What do you think?

Sirocco: It's um, it's good.

Recluse: You don't like it.

Sirocco: No, no! I, uh, like it plenty.

Recluse: Well you don't sound enthusiastic about it.

Sirocco: I think it just has some problems is all. Minor problems mind you.

Recluse: Problems? What problems could it possibly have? It's fool proof!

Sirocco: Well, for starters, where are we going to put that many trenchcoats?

Recluse: Warehouses.

Sirocco: We don't have that many warehouses.

Recluse: Well we'll make more then.

Sirocco: Okay. Second, is ther an exact date when the city will allow heroes to wear trenchcoats?

Recluse: Sometime within the year.

Sirocco: But no exact date?

Recluse: Not...as...such, no.

Sirocco: So how will you know when to steal all the trenchcoats?

Recluse: Ummm...

Sirocco: And once you get the world's trenchcoats, what are you going to do with them all? Just let them sit around in the warehouses?

Recluse: Okay, that's it. I'm going to go find Black Scorpion so I can have a conversaion with a mindless yesman. He'll think my plan is great!

*Five minutes later*

Sirocco: So what did Scorpion think of your plan?

Recluse: Oh shut up!

[ QUOTE ]
Recluse: Ghost Widow! I need you to inform the arbiters of a new law they must enforce. And they must do so without mercy.

Ghost Widow: Certainly my lord. What is this new law?

Recluse: He who smelt it dealt it.

[/ QUOTE ]
Recluse: Wait, I have a corollary to add to that.

Ghost Widow: Yes my lord?

Recluse: The law shall be, 'He who smelt it dealt it, but he who denies it shall be deemed to have supplied it.' Now go forth and carry out my will!

Recluse: Ghost Widow! I need you to inform the arbiters of a new law they must enforce. And they must do so without mercy.

Ghost Widow: Certainly my lord. What is this new law?

Recluse: He who smelt it dealt it.

i would suggest an epic adventure through time itself, but it would be kinda hard considering the absence of time travel in CoX.

perhaps some sort of revenge tale in lieu of time travel? you and your fellow RPers must prevent a friend gone rogue (intent on taking revenge for a past wrong) from carrying out a cold blooded murder or from blowing up something that would cause blocks of collateral damage

Recluse:
You put the boom-boom into my heart
You send my soul sky high when your lovin' starts
Jitterbug into my brain
Goes a bang-bang-bang 'til my feet do the same
But something's bugging you
Something ain't right
My best friend told me what you did last night
Left me sleepin' in my bed
I was dreaming, but I should have been with you instead.

Wake me up before you go-go
Don't leave me hanging on like a yo-yo
Wake me up before you go-go
I don't want to miss it when you hit that high
Wake me up before you go-go
'Cause I'm not plannin' on going solo
Wake me up before you go-go
Take me dancing tonight
I wanna hit that high (yeah, yeah)

all of you are way off base. you tranq both the hero and your CO and them strap them down in chairs in front of a big screen TV. Then, slap them awake, tape their eyes open, and force them to watch every Richard Simmons excersise video ever made while playing Wake Me Up Before You Go Go on a continuous loop.

Recluse (singing to the tune of America the Beautiful): Establishment, establishment. You always know what's best...

((oh i've tried googling it, but all i find is lyrics.))

Ghost Widow: Sirocco what, pray tell, are you doing on the computer?

Sirocco: Well, Lord Recluse is always in debt so I wanted to find out why. I've hacked into his credit card company's database so I can find a record of all his transactions.

GW: What have you found?

S: He's spending a lot of money on something called 'Spiders Gone Wild'...

Recluse (singing slowly):
While driving in my Cadillac, what to my surprise.
A little Nash Rambler was following me, about one third my size.
The guy must have wanted to pass me up, as he kept on tooting his horn.
I'll show him that a Cadillac is not a car to scorn.

Beep beep.
Beep beep.
His horn went beep beep beep.

(sure, it's not original, but it's really obscure. ten bucks to whoever knows how the song ends and tell me where i can get an mp3 of it cause i can't find the blasted thing)

Recluse: 'Evening, squire!

Statesman: (stiffly) Good evening.

Recluse: Is, uh,... Is your wife a goer, eh? Know whatahmean, know whatahmean, nudge nudge, know whatahmean, say no more?

Statesman: I, uh, I beg your pardon?

Recluse: Your, uh, your wife, does she go, eh, does she go, eh?

Statesman: (flustered) Well, she sometimes 'goes', yes.

Recluse: Aaaaaaaah bet she does, I bet she does, say no more, say no more, know whatahmean, nudge nudge?

Statesman: (confused) I'm afraid I don't quite follow you.

Recluse: Follow me. Follow me. That's good, that's good!
A nod's as good as a wink to a blind bat!

Statesman: Are you, uh,... are you selling something?

Recluse: SELLING! Very good, very good! Ay? Ay? Ay?
(pause)
Oooh! Ya wicked Ay! Wicked Ay! Oooh hooh! Say No MORE!

Statesman: Well, I, uh....

Recluse: Is, your uh, is your wife a sport, ay?

Statesman: Um, she likes sport, yes!

Recluse: I bet she does, I bet she does!

Statesman: As a matter of fact she's very fond of cricket.

Recluse: 'Oo isn't? Likes games, eh?
Knew she would. Likes games, eh?
She's been around a bit, been around?

Statesman: She has traveled, yes. She's from Scarsdale.

(pause)

Recluse: SAY NO MORE!! Scarsdale, saynomore, saynomore, saynomore, squire!

Statesman: I wasn't going to!

Recluse: Oh! Well, never mind. Dib dib?
Is your uh, is your wife interested in...photography, ay? 'Photographs, ay', he asked him knowlingly?

Statesman: Photography?

Recluse: Snap snap, grin grin, wink wink, nudge nudge, say no more?

Statesman: Holiday snaps, eh?

Recluse: They could be, they could be taken on holiday.
Candid, you know, CANDID photography?

Statesman: No, no I'm afraid we don't have a camera.

Recluse: Oh.
(leeringly)
Still, mooooooh, ay? Mwoohohohohoo, ay? Hohohohohoho, ay?

Statesman: Look...are you insinuating something?

Recluse: Oh, no, no, no... yes.

Statesman: Well?

Recluse: Well, you're a man of the world, squire.

Statesman: Yes...

Recluse: I mean, you've been around a bit, you know, like, you've, uh... You've 'done it'...

Statesman: What do you mean?

Recluse: Well, I mean like,... you've SLEPT, with a lady...

Statesman: Yes...

Recluse: What's it like?

and now, "Self Defense Against Fresh Fruit"

Lord Recluse: Good evening, class.
Wolf Spiders: Good evening.
Recluse: Where's all the others, then?
Spiders: They're not here.
Recluse: I can see that. What's the matter with them?
Spiders: Dunno.
Spider 1: Perhaps they've got 'flu.
Recluse: Huh! 'Flu, eh? They should eat more fresh fruit. Ha. Right. Now, self-defence. Tonight I shall be carrying on from where we got to last week when I was showing you how to defend yourselves against anyone who attacks you with armed with a piece of fresh fruit.
(Grumbles from all)
Soldier 2: Oh, you promised you wouldn't do fruit this week.
Recluse: What do you mean?
Soldier 3: We've done fruit the last nine weeks.
Recluse: What's wrong with fruit? You think you know it all, eh?
Soldier 2: Can't we do something else?
Soldier 4: Like someone who attacks you with a pointed stick?
Recluse: Pointed stick? Oh, oh, oh. We want to learn how to defend ourselves against pointed sticks, do we? Getting all high and mighty, eh? Fresh fruit not good enough for you eh? Well I'll tell you something my lad. When you're walking home tonight and some great homicidal maniac comes after you with a bunch of loganberries, don't come crying to me! Now, the passion fruit. When your assailant lunges at you with a passion fruit...
All: We done the passion fruit.
R: What?
S1: We done the passion fruit.
S2: We done oranges, apples, grapefruit...
S3: Whole and segments.
S2: Pomegranates, greengages...
S1: Grapes, passion fruit...
S2: Lemons...
S3: Plums...
S1: Mangoes in syrup...
R: How about cherries?
All: We did them.
R: Red *and* black?
All: Yes!
R: All right, bananas.

(All sigh.)

R: We haven't done them, have we? Right. Bananas. How to defend yourself against a man armed with a banana. Now you, come at me with this banana. Catch! Now, it's quite simple to defend yourself against a man armed with a banana. First of all you force him to drop the banana; then, second, you eat the banana, thus disarming him. You have now rendered him 'elpless.
S2: Suppose he's got a bunch.
R: Shut up.
S4: Suppose he's got a pointed stick.
R: Shut up. Right now you, Private Apricot.
S1: 'Arrison.
R: Sorry, Private 'Arrison. Come at me with that banana. Hold it like that, that's it. Now attack me with it. Come on! Come on! Come at me! Come at me then! (Shoots him.)
S1: Aaagh! (dies.)
R: Now, I eat the banana. (Does so.)
S2: You shot him!
S3: He's dead!
S4: He's completely dead!
R: I have now eaten the banana. The deceased, Private Apricot, is now 'elpless.
S2: You shot him. You shot him dead.
R: Well, he was attacking me with a banana.
S3: But you told him to.
R: Look, I'm only doing me job. I have to show you how to defend yourselves against fresh fruit.
S4: And pointed sticks.
R: Shut up.
S2: Suppose I'm attacked by a man with a banana and I haven't got a gun?
R: Run for it.
S3: You could stand and scream for help.
R: Yeah, you try that with a pineapple down your windpipe.
S3: A pineapple?
R: Where?! Where?!
S3: No I just said: a pineapple.
R: Oh. Phew. I thought my number was on that one.
S3: What, on the pineapple?
R: Where?! Where?!
S3: No, I was just repeating it.
R: Oh. Oh. I see. Right. Phew. Right that's bananas then. Now the raspberry. There we are. 'Armless looking thing, isn't it? Now you, Private Tin Peach.
S3: Thompson.
R: Thompson. Come at me with that raspberry. Come on. Be as vicious as you like with it.
S3: No.
R: Why not?
S3: You'll shoot me.
R: I won't.
S3: You shot Private Harrison.
R: That was self-defence. Now come on. I promise I won't shoot you.
S4: You promised you'd tell us about pointed sticks.
R: Shut up. Come on, brandish that raspberry. Come at me with it. Give me Hell.
S3:Throw the gun away.
R: I haven't got a gun.
S3: You have.
R: Haven't.
S3: You shot Private 'Arrison with it.
R: Oh, that gun.
S3: Throw it away.
R: Oh all right. How to defend yourself against a raspberry -- without a gun.
S3: You were going to shoot me!
R: I wasn't.
S3: You were!
R: No, I wasn't, I wasn't. Come on then. Come at me. Come on you weed! You weed, do your worst! Come on, you puny little man. You weed...
(Sgt. pulls a lever in the wall--CRASH! a 16-ton weight falls on spider 3)
S3: Aaagh.
R: If anyone ever attacks you with a raspberry, just pull the lever and the 16-ton weight will fall on top of him.
S2: Suppose there isn't a 16-ton weight?
R: Well that's planning, isn't it? Forethought.
S2: Well how many 16-ton weights are there?
R: Look, look, look, Mr Knowall. The 16-ton weight is just one way of dealing with a raspberry killer. There are millions of others!
S4: Like what?
R: Shootin' him?
S2: Well what if you haven't got a gun or a 16-ton weight?
R: Look, look. All right, smarty-pants. You two, you two, come at me then with raspberries. Come on, both of you, whole basket each.
S2: No guns.
R: No.
S2: No 16-ton weights.
R: No.
S4: No pointed sticks.
R: Shut up.
S2: No rocks up in the ceiling.
R: No.
S2: And you won't kill us.
R: I won't.
S2: Promise.
R: I promise I won't kill you. Now. Are you going to attack me?
S2 & S4: Oh, all right.
R: Right, now don't rush me this time. Stalk me. Do it properly. Stalk me. I'll turn me back. Stalk up behind me, close behind me, then in with the raspberries! Right? O.K. start moving. Now the first thing to do when you're being stalked by an ugly mob with raspberries is to -- release the tiger!

(He does so. Growls. Screams.)

R: The great advantage of the tiger in unarmed combat is that he eats not only the fruit-laden foe but also the raspberries. Tigers however do not relish the peach. The peach assailant should be attacked with a crocodile. Right, now, the rest of you, where are you? I know you're hiding somewhere with your damsons and prunes. Well I'm ready for you. I've wired meself up to 200 tons of gelignite, and if any one of you so much as makes a move we'll all go up together! Right, right. I warned you. That's it...
(Explosion.)