Com-Central.net

Ah, the smell of a freshly kilt rookie in the mornin - ain't nothing better.

But, comeon TC, weren't you a rook once in your life? LOL

everyone was a rookie once in their life... even the great rookie kilter TC sry to burst your kilting bubble TC

Yo!

Sweets, nice pic.....

Im happy you enjoy my moderately funny humor.



TC-





Hi TC yes I enjoy it very much and thank you kind sir

TC never kilted me, but had me rolling in his games.

dont think TC kilted me but then again that was years ago. cant remember much from back then... other than i know i miss all the good times we all had. isnt that right shades?

dont miss them do something about them babes, lifes to short *big hugz*

Yo!

This is a story I wrote about 4 years ago. It has all the well developed characters that lived in TC’s neighborhood in Hollywood, California. TC, himself is at his full development in all his little ways of doing things. If you followed TC through the years you know he changed and developed to the character that is in this story.

Enjoy TC in all his glory as he gets himself into a big mess with his new neighbor Clint Eastwood.



TC arose early on Saturday morning and sat down on his imitation nagahyde leather sofa and reached for the imitation plastic remote control for his imitation wood grained encased TV. TC then flicked through the stations until he found his favorite cartoon show.

“Darn that Roadrunner got away from that coyote pally again. I thought he had that pesky Roadrunner this time. I think I’ll email Whyllie Coyote and tell him to forget all that ACME crap and buy one of my Genuine Roadrunner Kilters.� TC thought to himself as he heard a sound of a large truck outside of his house. TC got up from his imitation nagahyde sofa and walked over to the window and peered out.

“Hmmmm….. Seems like we have a new neighbor moving in across the street. I hope he’s not an odd ball like the rest of the people living on this street.� Said TC to himself as he cracked open a fresh can of diet Coke.

“Holy moving van Batman.� said the boy wonder as the dynamic due stopped their morning game of croquet. “Yes Dick, it appears our new neighbors are moving in. I hope he’s not an odd ball like that jerk Tigercat.� said the caped crusader.

“No one can be as bad as that loser Tigercat. Not even the guy in the Chuck-E-Cheese suit.� said Dick Grayson
“Quick Robin, duck behind this Bat-Bush. It appears that Tigercat is crossing the street to greet our new neighbor.� said Bruce Wayne millionaire playboy.


“I think I’ll be neighborly like and go introduce myself to our new neighbor and welcome him to the neighborhood.� Thought TC to himself as he laced up his finest pair of barrowed bowling shoes and splashed on 3/4 ‘s of a bottle of Aqua Velva.

“You fellas did a fine job moving my furniture to my new house. Not a scratch.� said Clint as he was writing out a check for MoveMasters.
“Thank you Mr. Eastwood. We at MoveMasters try to do our best.� said the moving man.
Clint looked up from his check writing to see TC coming over from across the street.
“Oh no, what’s this thing coming across the street, looks like a reject from loserville.� said Clint in his usual tone of voice.
“Hey Yo! Pally! said TC as he approached the famous actor. “I’m your neighbor from across the street.�
“I know, I seen you wading through that jungle of a lawn of yours. Don’t you own a lawn mower?� ask Clint Eastwood.
“Well..errr….no pally, mind if I barrow yours? I’ll bring it back to ya tomorrow.� Asked TC
“What are neighbors for, sure go ahead Mr..ahh..� asked Clint.
“The names Tigercat, but my friends call me TC. What your name pal?�
The names Eastwood, Clint Eastwood, you know the actor.� said Clint.
“Never heard of ya pal. Were ya ever on an episode of Gilliagan Island?� asked TC
“No� replied Clint
“Then how about F-Troop?�
“NO�
“OK, how about Mr. ED, or a Leave it to Beaver?�
“NO, I never did a Mr. ED or a Beaver.� said Clint in his soft but stern tone.
“Then just what were ya in pally?� said TC
“Well I just make movies now, but I did do some TV work. Ever hear of a TV show called Raw Hide?� said Clint “And by the way, who are those two loser odd balls across the street hiding behind that bush wearing the masks and capes?� asked Clint

“Them two? Their just a couple of super-hero crime fighters. And never mind about the TV show thing pally.� Said TC as he started back across the street with Clint’s lawn mower. “He calls himself and actor and he never did a Gilligans Island.� said TC to himself as he was shaking his head.

“Holly lawn mower Batman! That creep Tigercat barrowed our new neighbors lawn mower.� said the boy wonder.
“Yes Robin,� said Batman as he peered from behind the Bat-Bush. “That’s the last time that guy will ever see his lawn mower.�
“Yeah Bruce, that creep still has the Bat-Trimmer and the Bat-leaf-blower.� said Robin.
“Let’s go Robin, to the Bat Cave.’ said Batman.
But as Batman turned he tripped over TC’s extension cord that was running from TC’s garage directly to the circuit box of Stately Wayne Manor.
“Holy extension cord Bruce are you ok?� said Dick as he was helping Batman to his feet.
“Darn that punk Tigercat, he’ll pay for this Robin.� said Batman as he was limping to the entrance of the Batcave.

“Ok guys.� said TC to Wally and Beaver. “Make sure you don’t forget to dump the lawn clippings in Ozzie Nelson’s backyard.�
“Are you gonna pay us this time Mr� asked the Beaver
“Yeah, Lumpy and Eddie Haskell told us that you were a low down, rotten, good for nothing, loser punk, slime ball. And, yeah we want to be paid this time.� said Wally Cleaver.
“Pallys, I invested your money wisely into one of my rookie kilters at my emporium. That way your hard earned money is growing in value.� said the crafty TC.
“No foolin Mr?� asked the excited Beaver.
“No foolin Beav.� said the convincing TC. “Now you pallys get to work and I’ll invest your money for ya right now.� Hehehehe.

1 week later…..

Ding-Dong…
TC could hear Clint’s footsteps approaching the front door. As the door opens TC says.
“Yo! Hi ya Clint, Mind if I barrow your weedwacker?� asked TC
“Hey hold your horses and wait a minute there partner, you haven’t returned my lawn mower yet.� said Clint as he was looking directly into TC’s blood shot eyes.
“Well..err..pally, when im done with the weedwacker I’ll bring both back at the same time. So, what ya say pal?� asked TC
“Not so fast there cowboy, I want some thing for collateral, just in case.� said Clint in his typical Eastwood fashion.
“Collateral?Gee, pal don’t ya trust me?...sheesh..ok,ok.ummm….I’ll let ya hold on to my Bat.err.my trimmer and my leafblower for collateral. What ya say to that pal?� said TC
“OK, it’s a deal partner.� said Dirty Harry.

“Holly Trimmer and leafblower Bruce!� said the Boy wonder. “That creep TC is taking our Bat-Trimmer and the Bat-Leafblower over to the new neighbor’s house.�
“It appears so Robin.� said the caped crusader as he hobbled over to take a look from behind the Bat-Trash Cans.
“Holly Aqua Velva bottles Batman!� “Look!.. Our trash cans are filled with empty diet coke cans and Aqua Velva bottles.� said Dick Grayson. Bruce Wayne’s youthful ward.
“I told that punk TC to cease and desist dumping his trash in the Bat-trash cans. Wait until I get my Bat-gloves around Tigercats scrawny neck…ummm…I’m sorry Dick, but super-hero crime fighters are above such petty anger.� said Bruce Wayne millionaire playboy. “To the Bat-polls Robin!�
But as batman turned to head towards the Bat-polls he tripped over a hose that was running from a water spicket from stately Wayne Manor to TC’s above the ground wadding pool.
“Holy water stealing Batman! That freak is stealing our water too!� said Robin as he was helping Bruce Wayne back to his feet.
Yes Dick, there isn’t a form of scum crawling on the face of this planet lower than Tigercat.� said Batman
“Lower than Weird Al Yankovic?� asked Robin
“Yes Dick, even lower than Weird Al Yankovic. But maybe one rung above a bakery supply salesman.� said Bruce as he was dis-connecting TC’s hose from the water spicket.


A few days later…



Ding-Dong….

“Hmmm….Clint doesn’t appear to be home. I’ll check his door….it’s unlocked. I’m sure Clint won’t mind if I come in and barrow his TV set for a few days.� said TC to himself.
But as TC walks past Clint’s study he sees Clint at his computer. “What’s this?� thought TC. As he overhears Clint saying.
“Shawdow_Weedwakr, good game, looks like I got the best of ya this time partner.� said Clint through RW.
“Yeah, Dirty_Harry, I’ll kick your butt next time.� said Shadow_Weedwakr.
“Dirty_Harry, you from La Habra by any chance?� asked Van_Mustang.
“Nada on La Habra there partner. Just moved down from Carmel.� said Inspector Callahan. “Hey, I’ll catch you guys next time; I have a new movie script I need to go over.�

Just then TC says “..errr…umm…Clint! Thought ya wouldn’t mind pal, just came by to see if I could barrow your TV set for a few days.�
The startled Clint Eastwood turned and looked at TC, and said. “Who let you in here partner? And you want to barrow my TV? You still haven’t returned my lawn mower and my weedwacker.�

“..err…ummm…yeah..Clint! I see you fly CFS. I fly a little CFS, but im just a rookie myself. No where as good as you Clint.� said TC trying to butter up the obviously ticked off Dirty Harry.

“So, you fly CFS? A rookie you say partner..ahhh… yeah partner go ahead and barrow my TV. But first we make a deal.� said Clint Eastwood in his soft but firm voice.

“What do ya mean by a deal pal? asked TC

“This is the deal partner; we fly a match in CFS. If you win, you can come over here anytime you want and barrow anything you want. But if I win, you never, ever come over here and bother me again. Deal partner?� said Dirty Harry through clinched teeth.

“Gee pal, I don’t know, me being just a rookie and all. Tell ya what pal, throw in your Ferrari and it’s a deal.� said TC.

“What! My Ferrari!..ahh…errr…ok,ok partner it’s a deal. I’ll set up a room on the Zone in Furball and I’ll call it “Make my Day� So, get your mangy hide out of here and I’ll meet ya in Hell.� Hehehe. smirked Dirty Harry. “I’ll finally be rid of that moocher for ever.�


TC ran across the street and jumped into his Rainbow-Mother-of-Pearl 63’ Chevy Impala convertible and roared off to his Kilter Builter Emporium.

Once TC left, Clint ran out to his back yard and into a hanger in the corner of his palatial estate. He pushed the hanger doors open and tugged out his pristine North American P-51D “Stock� Mustang. After quickly checking that his six .50s were primed and ready, Clint jumped into the cockpit and fired up the 12-cylinder beauty. Moments later he was roaring on his way where he would meet TC in the air.

TC pulled his Impala to a screeching halt outside of his Kilter Builter Emporium and jumped out and sprinted into his emporium. TC climbed up into the cockpit of his finest Genuine Rookie Kilter. TC cracked open a fresh can of diet coke guzzled it down, then splashed on ¾’s of a bottle of Aqua Velva and was soon winging his way over the desert where Clint was waiting for him.

TC first spotted the bright glittering speck that was Clint’s chrome aluminum P-51D in the red sunlight and pulled his Kilter into a head on pass. Clint did the same. TC pushed the throttle lever up from 45% to 80% to wide open, and inside the cockpit of the P-51, Dirty Harry opened up the supercharger and the Merlin roared.

“I’ll teach that outlaw TC what a real P-51 can do.� muttered Clint as he kept a close eye on TC’s kilter that was rapidly approaching in his reflecting gun site. Closer and closer the two combatants streaked, and Clint carefully set his finger on the trigger on his control stick.
“Make my Day punk!� said Clint as he squeezed the trigger and the six fifties in his
P-51’s wings spewed forth both flame and lead. He saw the flickers on TC’s wings too, and the next thing Clint knew his P-51 was spitting hydraulic fluid all over his canopy and his wing tanks were spewing fuel at an alarming rate. Clint’s wings were perforated with bullet holes. Banking hard to the right, Clint cursed as he saw TC’s kilter veer away for another pass.

But Clint was no rookie in a Hawker. His tough P-51 could take hits and come back for more. He notched the throttle up to war emergency power and lowered his flaps for a tight bank. Although his engine was sputtering and fuel was spraying from the bullet holes in his wings, Clint’s turn took TC totally by surprise. A moment later TC’s Genuine Rookie Kilter was liberally pelted by .50 caliber slugs from Clint’s still potent guns.

“Dagnabbit! That Eastwood punk!� shouted TC as he tried to ignore the ominous engine oil gauge that showed he was losing oil and losing it fast. “Those darn fifties do a lot more damage than those punk rookie hawkers!� As his useless 4,500-hp Rookie Kilting engine slowly wailed and the 5-blade-contra-rotating –prop stopped, TC glided his damaged craft down towards the desert floor. TC spotted a small town and expertly managed to make a 3-point dead stick landing in the middle of the only street in the center of town.
“Sheesh!, what a town.� Said TC as he cracked open his cockpit and opened his engine cowling. As bad luck would have it a single .50 caliber hole had gone through the bottom of the oil reservoir.
“I’ll ask these fine townsfolk if the have any oil I can barrow.� And TC dashed off towards a building named “Tombstone Saloon.�

Clint smirked as he watched TC land, but he was in a very similar situation. His fuel gauge read “Empty� and the misty stream was still spraying from the holes in his wings. Carefully Clint landed his shot up P-51 near where TC landed his. But not before scaring several horses and clipping several of the parked covered wagons that stood in the way.

“I’m gonna finish this with that outlaw TC once and for all.� murmured Rowdy Yates as he rummaged under his P-51 cockpit seat. He pulled out a leather gun belt and holster complete with a .45 Peacemaker and strapped the gun belt to his waist. “I thought this might just come in handy.� Said Clint and he finished buckling his gun belt. Then Clint strode out on to the dusty street of the old ghost town.

TC ran into the saloon and rushed up to the bartender at the counter.

“Hey old-timer pally.� said the impatient TC. “Do you now where I can get some oil?�

“I’m afraid not traveler.� Replied the bartender. “But how about some whisky? Best I can do for ya.�

“Whisky?.. got any diet Coke?� asked TC

“We ain’t got none of that stranger. How about some sarsaparilla?� asked the barkeep.

:Forget it pal.� said TC turning away.

“You might try the train station.� suggested the mixologist. “They might use oil for their new fangled steam locomotive.�

Just then TC spotted a familiar wiry frame of a man through the saloon window. It was Clint Eastwood!

“Hey you in there, you yellow-bellied, nose picking, low-down good for nothing diet Coke drinking buffalo poaching varmint!� roared Clint from the dusty street.
“Tigercat, I’m callin you out!�

The barkeep gulped hard and quickly ducked behind the counter. As the big clock across the street at the town hall struck 5 o’clock in the evening. The red desert sun sent a firey gleam of light through the window and TC could see Clint standing in the middle of the street. His hat pulled low down over his eyes and his boot spurs glistened in the late afternoon sun.
“Hey Tigercat, you flea bitten coward. I said I’m callin you out.� Shouted Clint again. “Better come out here before I go in there and get ya, and if I do, I’m bringing Hell with me.�

TC reached for the security of his Summer Fun Squirt Blaster, the most powerful squirt gun in the world. TC brushed off the dust from his imitation black polyester leisure suit and splashed on ¾ ‘s of a bottle of Aqua Velva and with a heavy gait stomped through the swinging doors of the saloon and his Italian rookie kilting bowling shoes bit into the dust of the street. A thin wind rustled down the empty street and a lone tumbleweed bounded alone behind Clint’s still smoking P-51. Clint’s teeth clenched in a scowl as he tossed his smoldering cigarette into the street and pulled his hat even lower on his face.

“You gonna draw, or are just gonna whistle Dixie partner?� scowled Clint, all the while his trigger finger twitching and his eyes glaring at the silhouette of TC who now faced him in the street about 60 feet away.

“Yo, pal make my day.� Snarled TC, his hand poised over his water pistol.
“Clint,.. I..ahh.. guess this means I can’t barrow you DVD player?�

“Enough talk partner.� said Clint stepping forward, his spurs clanking with each step in the dusty street as the breeze sent the tails of his coat fluttering. His hand inched down towards the ivory handle of his .45. And all the while TC’s stubby fingers crept closer towards the handle of his Summer Fun Squirt Blaster.

Suddenly Clint’s hand dove for his gun, his fingers clenched the grip and his iron cleared leather in a lightning flash. Quick as a streak his hand cocked back the hammer and before TC could even raise his squirt blaster Clint’s Peacemaker was leveled at TC’s head. With a well trained squeeze, Clint pulled the trigger and the pistol hammer fell with a sudden metallic snap. “CLICK�
Nothing happened! For a moment Clint still kept his smirk, expecting to see TC spin around and fall to the ground in a festering heap at any moment. But the pistol had not fired. Frantically, Clint pulled the trigger again, to no avail, and again, and again. Each time only to hear the empty. “CLICK�

“Oh..ahhh..Sorry, Eastwood pal.� said TC after a few seconds. “I forgot to tell ya, I barrowed your bullets. I hope ya don’t mind Clint pally.�
And with that TC squeezed the trigger of his Summer Fun Squirt Blaster and the helpless Clint was blown off his feet by the massive spray of water. While Clint struggled to get up dripping wet from head to toe, TC stood over Clint and said.

“Oh, by the Rowdy pally…. ‘Play Misty for me’…..hehehehehehe.



TC-

ROFL TC!!!! that one was a goodie!

LOL TC....great story!!

HAPPY THANKGIVING from all of us at CC!!

"Ickie Says..."

Hey dudes!
ComCentral has finally come to their senses and got rid of that fat, bald, leisure suit wearing, Aqua Velva reeking, rookie kilting, trim tab technology snatching, diet Coke drinking freak. I don't kilt rookies and I don't live next door to a bunch of old useless unemployed TV actors. From now on you're gonna get some real CFS entertainment. So shut up, sit down, hang on and start laughing at some real CFS humor ...

Our hero Ickie Inline awoke late on Saturday morning and went into the kitchen for his morning coffee. Sitting at the end of the table was his young and beautiful playmate girlfriend, Bunnie.
"Hey, Doll Face," snapped Ickie as he snatched his mug of piping hot coffee, "get up and cook me my breakfast, and make it snappy!"
"Ickie, babe, you were the best last night," said the blushing Bunnie as she hurriedly began making His Highnesses breakfast.
"I was, doll face, the best .. just like always," said the bragdashes Ickie Inline, leaning back on his chair sipping coffee and with his feet propped up on the table. "Oh, and doll face, don't forget to ask that raise at work today. I need the extra money for my new super mod project."
After eating his hearty breakfast our Hero and all-around Good Guy, Ickie Inline, turned around to his playmate girlfriend and said "Doll Face, make sure you do the laundry and mow the lawn, and don't forget to fix the plumbing and you'd better have my dinner on the table at exactly 5:00 PM ... or ... out you go!"

"Oh of course babe, oh most high and glorious master of all," said the desirable Miss Bunnie in her thong.
A little while later at Ickie Inline's Mod Making Compound ....
"CROW FOOT!" screamed his Noble Highness, the Regal Ickie Inline of Modding Fame. "Get me the goose that lays the golden eggs!"
"Yes, oh great paleface Chief of Chiefs and Higher than Thunderbird," said Crow Foot, bowing to the God of CFS. "Me will get goose that lays golden eggs. Does paleface Chief of Chiefs want more from humble Crow Foot?"

"Yeah," snapped Ickie, tossing away a toothpick over his shoulder and adjusting his robes. "Tell that good-for-nothing Bruno Superfort to get his Frenchie butt in here and start massaging my feet!"
"I obey, Greater than Thunderbird Chief of Chiefs," answered Crow Foot, and he bowed again and then scampered off to get the goose that lays the golden eggs.
Then Snake Ears came running into the Throne Room of Ickie's Compound and knelt at the foot of His Greatnesses throne.
"You may address me, knave!" screamed Ickie, "the Great Highness of the CFS."

"Oh sire of sires," stammered Snake Ears, terrified of Ickie's wrath especially when His Highness had not had his feet massaged yet, "we have taken back what is rightfully yours, oh Great Highness of CFS."
"What does this mean, knave? You mean the Trim Tab Technology?" Ickie turned red and started to jump up and down on his throne, nearly tripping on his muslin robes of state. "Answer me, tyke!"
"Yes, O Great One, the Trim Tab Technology!" cried Snake Ears, dodging the Royal Scepter that Ickie hurled at him. "We beat up that punk TC and took it from him."

"You will be rewarded, Snake .... for this I will spare your worthless life ... this time ... but do not try my Noble Patience, as it grows thin. So be off with you, peasant!" ordered the Noble, Regal, Chivalrous, Integral, Majestic, Imperialistic, Glorious Ickie Inline, God of CFS. And then the Great Highness of the Zone started to chuckle ...

"Heh heh heh," resounded the majestic chuckle of the great Ickie Inline. "I have finally beaten that loser TC! Now all that I must do is overthrow that punk Shadow_Weedwkr and take over ComCentral ... and then All of CFS will be MINE! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

The noble Ickie recovered his godly composure, recovered his Royal Scepter, and shouted to his servants "I must go to the Ridge Runners and see what my subjects are up to. Crow Foot, forget the goose, but fetch me my Rolls Royce. We are off to Ridge Runners. To work, knave!"

As Ickie's Rolls Royce pulled up to the Ridge Runners building (soon to be rededicated as the "Ickie Building") hordes of screaming girls came running up, trying to catch a glimpse of the devilishly handsome idol, the great Ickie Inline. The girls were chanting "we love Ickie, we love Ickie, we love Ickie," and carrying signs that read "Ickie is the King of all that is Good" and one that read "Eat at Ricks."

But the security guards did their jobs well and kept the screaming horde from blocking Ickies path. The devilishly handsome and filthy rich Ickie Inline strolled into the Ridge Runners with two beautiful girls, Foxy_Female and Long_Legged_Vixen, at his sides.
In the Ridge Runners main Chat .....

<FMS_Superglued> Yeah CB, I like the one about the horse and the nurse. hehehehe
<ColdBreeze> ColdBreeze Rulz!!!!!!!
<ColdBreeze> ColdBreeze Rulz!!!!!!!
<ColdBreeze> ColdBreeze Rulz!!!!!!!
<ColdBreeze> ColdBreeze Rulz!!!!!!!
<ColdBreeze> ColdBreeze Rulz!!!!!!!
<ColdBreeze> ColdBreeze Rulz!!!!!!!
<ColdBreeze> ColdBreeze Rulz!!!!!!!
+Crabby_Female> Breeze stop flooding or you will be gagged. Please help keep the Zone a fun place for all :- )
<ColdBreeze> As if I'm afraid of YOU, girlie!
<Van_Mustang> You tell her CB!
<FS_Ozzy_Elmer> lmao CB
<Wild_Cobra_2> Don't ya just hate that rubbish TC writes for ComCentral?
<_57th_Adman1> You tell'em Cobra, that stuff TC writes SUCKS!
<Van_Mustang> Any of you guys from La Habra?
Enter <Ickie_Inline>
<_57th_Adman1> Look! His Highness is gracing us with his presence!
<ColdBreeze> Its Ickie, the Way and the Light! I am humbled in your presence oh Great One. Speak, and I will do.
<Ickie_Inline> Greetings, subjects! Cut the crap CB ... any of you seen that punk loser TC?
<ColdBreeze> Ickie Rulz!!!!!!!
<ColdBreeze> Ickie Rulz!!!!!!!
<ColdBreeze> Ickie Rulz!!!!!!!
<ColdBreeze> Ickie Rulz!!!!!!!
<ColdBreeze> Ickie Rulz!!!!!!!
+Crabby_Female> Nice flooding for the Great One, CB! Keep it up! Long live Ickie, the Majestic Hero of CFS!
<FMS_Superglued> Oh King Ickie, I see that punk TC kilting Rookies in game 6! Go show that punk loser who is boss!
<Van_Mustang> Yeah, you show him Ickie! That TC is a punk!
<Ickie_Inline> Bruno! Prepare the TC Kilter! I am going after that loser punk!
<Bruno_Superfort> Oui oui, le Monsieur Ickquie!
<ColdBreeze> Kick that Aqua Velva using punks @$$ Ickie!
<ColdBreeze> and by the way ICKIE RULZ!
+Crabby_Female> Yeah, nice caps for the Great one, CB. ICKIE RULZ! ICKIE RULZ!
<FMS_Superglued> ICKIE RULZ!
<_57th_Adman1> ICKIE RULZ!
Enter <Shadow_Weedwkr>
<Shadow_Weedwkr> Hi, all. Hey Ickie, when you gonna get Ickie's Corner to me so I can put it up on ComCentral?
<Ickie_Inline> *Gasp* I don't think you really know who you are addressing, Wacker ....
<Shadow_Weedwkr> Um, no, what are you talking about, Ickster?
<Ickie_Inline> Its Mr. Ickster to you, punk! I just took over ComCentral. You are out on your ear, Wacker.
<Shadow_Weedwkr> What? This is an outrage! You'll hear from my barrister about this!
+Crabby_Female> Sorry Shadow, you spoke against the Great Ickie Highness, I'm gonna have to boot you.
Exit <Shadow_Weedwkr>
Meanwhile, in Game 6 ...
<Rookie_Doofus> Wow! I sure blew up real nice that time
<PGTigercat> You sure did pally. One hit and you lit up the whole sky
<Rookie_Doofus> Well, 47 kills and 6 deaths you have Tiger ... I don't think you are a Rookie
<PGTigercat> Gee pally, I'm really lucky see, This is only my second time on the Zone
Enter <Ickie_Inline>
<Ickie_Inline> Prepare to die, Tigercat!
<PGTigercat> Yo! Ready up Ickie and I'll teach you a lesson you won't soon forget!
<Ickie_Inline> Well you fat little punk perhaps you have forgotten that I now have the TRIM TAB TECHNOLOGY!
Enter <Shadow_Weedwkr>
<Shadow_Weedwkr> TC! Look out, Ickie is coming in after yo --- Oh no, he's already here!!!
<PGTigercat!> Yo! Weedwkr! By the way I just finished the next TC's Corner, I'll send it over right away,
<Ickie_Inline> Wacker won't be needing anymore of your crap stories TC. I have taken over ComCentral, and you are O-U-T! Got it? All the way O-U-T
<Shadow_Weedwkr> You won't get away with this Ickie!
<Ickie_Inline> Doofus, leave the game NOW! I am taking over as host.
Exit <Rookie_Doofus>
<Ickie_Inline> Now I am the host! Ready up Tigercat, prepare to be blasted! As for you Wacker ....
The Host has removed Shadow_Weedwkr from the session!
The Game Starts!
<Ickie_Inline> This is the end of the line for you TC!
<PGTigercat> We'll see about that Ickie
<Ickie_Inline> Your Rookie Kilter is useless against my TC Killer Mod with Trim Tab Technology!
<PGTigercat> Oh No! You got the Trim Tab Technology!
<Ickie_Inline> As you would say "You got that right, pally!" Now take this, you punk! Muahahahaha!
<PGTigercat> Agghhh! I'm hit!
<Ickie_Inline> So long TC! I am rid of you at last! I'll have Zeke scrape you off the Ceement! Muuahahahaha
Back in the main Chat ....
<Wild_Cobra_2> So when you going out with me, Crabby?
+Crabby_Female> I wouldn't date you even if you were made of solid gold
<ColdBreeze> hahaha Cobra! Too bad you're only made of mud. hahahaha
<Van_Mustang> Anyone here live in La Habra?
<FMS_Superguled> LMAO! What idiot would ever live in La Habra?
<Ickie_Inline> I have returned, and that punk TC is nothing more than a splat on the cement!
<Van_Mustang> Way to go, Glorious Ickie! I grovel at your Mighty feet!
<ColdBreeze> ICKIE RULZ! ICKIE RULZ!
<ColdBreeze> ICKIE RULZ!
<ColdBreeze> ICKIE RULZ!
<ColdBreeze> ICKIE RULZ!
<Ickie_Inline> Cut it CB ... I rule the ZONE! I rule COMCENTRAL! I rule the WORLD! ... !!!!!!!!!!
"ICKIE! .... wake up man! You're havin a bad nightmare!" cried Snake Ears, shaking the sleeping Ickie Inline in his hospital bed.
"Who, wha, wha, whats going on?" cried Ickie, feeling for his Royal Sceptre but finding only a crumpled Rookie Kilter magazine. "What do you mean nightmare?"
"You were having a bad nightmare bro," said Snake Ears. "Tossing and turning, and saying 'I rule, I'm the man, haha take that you punk TC!' and 'ICKIE RULZ.'"

"What? You mean I'm not the Noble, Regal, Chivalrous King of CFS? And I don't have the Trim Tab Technology? And TC isn't really splatted on the Cement? And ... and I don't have a playmate girlfriend Bunnie?" said Ickie, starting to shake and grabbing his head.

"King of CFS??? TC on the Cement? Playmate Girlfriend Bunnie? You gotta be kidding m bro. TC's the one who shot you down, we thought you'd never wake up bro. And playmate girlfriend? Bro, you haven't even had a date in three years!" explained the laughing Snake Ears.

"No CFS Empire, no playmate girlfriend, no filthy riches, no corner on ComCentral, no splatted TC, and no Trim Tab Technology ... it was all a stupid dream!" cried Ickie, bawling his head off.

"I'll get you TC! I'll get you if its the last thing I do!"


-- Ickie .... errrr .... TC

_57th_Adman1 Now TC i will give ya credit for that one hehehe. Nothin like TCs Corner for a thanksgiving gift

Ahhhh the ColdBreeze!
How I miss his charm, wit, insightful wisdom, and strange way with the ladies, since the CFS1 Zone days....
[;)]

i hear ya shadeypoo

Yo!

Boy, I wish I could write moderately funny crap like that TC guy can.

Yeah, I miss the old Zone days. Was a real hoot.

Happy Thanks Giving to everyone!


TC-

happy thanksgiving TC. i sure do miss "As The Zone Turns"