This is something I wrote during a distressfully sleepless time in my life. Now, as Dave2112 and me are about to start the Club for Delusional and Really Twisted Ticklers (or something, we'll think of a good acronym later), I feel like (*putting flowers into hair*) shaaaring it with you guys. 
So anyway this isn't really a story. Not really. I don't know what it is. I don't wanna know, either. Here, have some! *SPLAT!*
The Foot Police
{This is a very silly, actually really childish fantasy of mine. I guess all of us tickling enthusiasts tend to fantasize about tickling women we see walking barefoot. I just took it one step further... Strangely, this fantasy would fit perfectly if I had been around nine or so when it developed, maybe even younger, but that's not the case! It started nagging at my noggin at around 21, leaving me feeling rather stupid, if aroused. This load of bollocks is by no means realistic! It is something I keep coming back to, however, whenever I don't feel like straining my head for much of a plot line... You might say it's "Marauder on Holiday". By no means would I ever publish any of this incredible thrash (other than I just did... I'm such an attention-whore...)! I just write it down for you, so you can share a few laughs... Perhaps it even gives you an idea for a story! After all, even in the murkiest puddle of slimy goo a shiny golden coin might just be found... Naaah, probably not! So, throw all your common sense overboard, don't even try to see any sort of plot development, forget all you know about writing, and enjoy the silly and delightfully illogical world of... THE FOOT POLICE!!!}
[horrible cheap action/police TV show muzak blaring out of decrepit speakers at a nasty volume, while a artificially excited voice, like a very tinny version of a monster truck announcer, screams into a microphone held to close to the mouth]
The foot police have their eyes everywhere! Everyone could be their spy! In every corner might be one of their microscopic cameras, silently watching and recording! They know who you are! They know where you sleep at night! They know if you've been naughty or nice! And worst of all, they know exactly when you go barefoot, how often, and for how long!
They don't care about it if you're a guy, they only watch women! Why? They won't tell their reasons! They watch young women closely, and woe to the girl they catch walking barefoot in public! At home it's ok, but in public, it means a couple of red marks on the woman's record! The more public, the worse! And when they come get her, there's going to be some major attitude readjustment! I was going to write this stuff in all caps, as trash must be yelled, but I went for the exclamation marks instead!
[darkly whispering, sepulchral voice, music now from an organ, incredibly pathos laden church tunes, hoping to sound foreboding but really being quite annoying]
...somewhere in no-mans-land, there lies the fortress of forced mirth... deep within its bowels, the foot police have their headquarters, and it is here that they bring the girls that are so fond of walking barefoot... bringing them here to be... cured of their misconceptions... helpless, often muffled laughter echoes through the dank, dark, foreboding corridors... (the music reaches a crescendo in d-minor, reducing the last bit of tension to ashes, ruining the mood. Besides, the corridors look pathetically like old Star Trek Classic backgrounds, all cardboard and scarce paint, and the cameraman is drunk... who cares, this is a low budget fantasy) ...it is in these horrible halls that girls and young women suffer for their errors... it is here that they are mercilessly tortured until they'll never think of going barefoot again... it is here that the foot police has the best equipment and personal to perform their inhumane behavior modification, here in the... [fanfare, oh god, how CHEAP, voice pipes up to excited, Bad-50s-Horror-Flic-Preview-At-A-Drive-In-Near-You, crackling heights] ...DUNGEON OF FOOT TICKLING!!! [not even an original name... pity]
[okay, I'll actually put some more budget into this. Have an anchorman! (plop! there he is) and let's not forget the studio, good old news-flash issue! (plop!) And away with the music! At least let's play some good CDs! (easy-listening tunes in the background) Great so far! Now all I need is some popcorn and soda! Let's listen to what the man has to tell us!]
(Anchorman stares around wild eyed, not knowing where he is all of the sudden, then catches himself, smiles at the camera, looks at the teleprompter, frowns deeply at what he reads, then shrugs and smiles again) Good evening! I'm... erm... the Anchorman, I guess... Oh Whatever [I name him Barry! Barry Fewt! WHEEEE!!! this is so much fun!]... oh I seem to remember! I'm Barry Fewt, and I'm here to tell you about the politics of the ultra secret Foot Police... Wait a minute! If they're secret, why the heck am I talking about them on TV?!? [shut up, away with logic! talk, damnit, or you get turned into a potted plant and dropped 300 feet above the surface of a deserted alien planet!] Oh yes, that's the reason! Right. The Foot Police are there to make sure no women under a certain age walks around barefoot... by... taking them one by one if they're caught, taking them to a secret base, and then tickling their feet... oh god, it's so horribly stupid [shut up, get going!]... yes, okay. So, they capture the offending girls... wait a minute! Why would anybody with a foot fetish like you want barefoot girls off the street? that's plain counterproductive! [yeah, but this is MY totally bogus dream, so don't worry about it! common sense is something that happens to other people!] Good. If you say so. They capture the girls, take them to their... oh, the pain, the pain... Dungeon Of Foot Tickling... where they, presumably, tickle their feet... [more exactly! read the small print!]... sorry, forgot my glasses... (squints) ...oh, I see! The intensity and length of the treatment is depending on the amount of time the women have spent barefoot in public, and to the number of people who have seen their naked feet... also, they receive extra strong treatment for showing their soles, by sitting and putting up the feet, or even by flashing them whilst walking... lord, this is silly... okay, so what does intensity mean? It seems that they have an intensity rating of one to a hundred, one being the strokes of a soft feather, 100 being... the super tickling machine? Another horribly unimaginative name... well, and the time... for each minute a single person has seen their feet, they have to endure a full hour of tickling, and for each minute their soles were seen they get one day, a timeframe then multiplied by the number of people... this is plainly impossible! nobody lives that long! [read on, it gets better! wait until you see what else is there in the... sigh... you know, the dungeon...] okay, that means that most women get multiple centuries of tickling, roughly. I guess when they were showing their soles on TV or on the big screen, it would be one hell of a lot of millennia. Happy? [yep, read on already.] To make this possible, the foot police have equipped their... dungeon... with... TIME CHAMBERS?!? [MWAAHAHAHAHA!!! told ya you'd love it! ain't that just plain incredible? what a completely impossible, yet very nasty thought! and so joyously insanely DUMB!!!] Yes, I agree. So, in these Time Chambers, which are integrated into each cell, the girls can be tortured for almost an eternity, because every minute that passes outside corresponds to many years inside... how many? [who cares?] (sigh) and of course they are constantly tickled on their feet [soles!] soles? why just soles? [cause I like soles right now! I can change it back to feet later if I want to. This is my dream!] Okay, they are constantly tickled on their soles [bound and bare! insert a 'helpless' somewhere if you can, and something like hypersensitive! make it juicy, you prune!] Prune? Oh well... They are [from the beginning, and say something about superior equipment, too! JUICY!] Great. Yes.
Harumph.
The Foot Police scans the globe for girls who walk around barefoot. They record the incidents, then one day decide, for no apparent reason, that tonight's the night, and capture the girls. The offenders are then dragged kicking and screaming to the Foot Police's secret headquarter, the Fortress of Forced Mirth, and swiftly imprisoned in the Dungeon Of Foot Tickling. There, the helplessly screaming and laughing girls are subjected to nearly eternal, excruciating tickle tortures, focusing only on their hypersensitive, horribly ticklish, utterly helpless, twitching bare soles, The Policemen utilize special equipment that tickles hundreds of times worse than anything known to mankind, and employ extremely competent sole tickling experts. The length of this treatment is proportional to the number of people who have seen the girls' bare feet, and the amount of time they have been seen, adding up from her birth and each viewing person being counted singly. Each minute their feet have been viewed means one hour, each minute of glimpsed, bare sole means a whole day of unbearable, expert tickle torture! All the girls are subjected to a treatment making them incredibly sensitive to tickling upon their arrival. They suffer the tortures in specially constructed chambers that bend the flow of time in such a way that it's theoretically possible for a girl to be tickled for billions of years, and not age a day.
Pleased? [yes, very! ain't that plain horrible?] oh yes, it is. It's totally wacky. [thanks! bye!] what? [off goes the whole passel, PlopPlopPlop, and no mood music anymore! ah, what joy... WACKY is good! HEHEHEHEHE!!!]
{So that's the background for the short stories I like to whip up when I can't be bothered with thinking. I mostly place girls I know in the clutches of the foot police, but everybody's fair game, as long as they look good and are seen barefoot... ah, the pleasure of seeing a celebrity baring her soles on mainstream TV when I'm tired enough to dig this manure-cart of a fantasy, and the joys of watching a girl I find attractive, but I don't like so much, or one that I simply think deserves a good tickling, walking barefoot through a park... I told you it was childish! But I'll start writing down little, talent- and plot-less foot police thrash stories anyway. This is gonna be fun! Yay! Fantasies with chest hair! Pure testosterone! No stupid long plots, just straight down to the action! And all the women will be gagged, so I don't need to type all that pleading and screaming... WAIT A MINUTE!!! GOT AN IDEA!!!
Somebody-else-but-not-Marauder proudly (cough cough) presents : The first ever...
---DO IT YOURSELF LAUGHING AND PLEADING PUZZLEBOX!!! SELECT YOUR SOUNDTRACK; CUT AND PASTE INTO STORY!!! VOILA, INSTANT TICKLE TORTURE!!! COMING SOON!! ITS EASY!!! ITS FUN!!! AND IT CAN BE YOURS FOR ONLY YOUR ENTIRE FORTUNE PLUS YOUR LIFE INSURANCE, AND YOU EVEN GET A CRAPPY COOKIE!!! BUY!!! BUY!!! BUY!!!
(see, trash's gotta be yelled at the top of the lungs to get across... oh god, my head... oh well, where would I be if I couldn't make fun of myself...? In politics, no doubt...)
Okay, no writing shorts. I just wrote one, and it sucked so horribly that this doc reads like something from Kant in comparison, oh well... some things are just not meant to be... sigh... maybe it's better this way, cause if I started writing that kind of junk, it would reach critical mass in no time, detonate in a blaze of bull, and annihilate the universe as we know it. Once more, Marauder saves the day... This sort of nonsense always happens when I suffer from sleeplessness. See what my close friends have to put up with? But don't worry, the walls are padded and my jacket fits perfectly, I'll go jump around for a bit until I get my Prozak. Taa!
..and now...
The first ever Do It Yourself Laughing and Pleading Puzzlebox
-cut and paste to your heart's content !-
Laugh tracks
Biting back laughter -
"Ngg NNNNG... Argh... NNNNNG... (gasp) GRNFX... nnNNNNNG..."
"Ack ! (snort) mmmpf mmmmmmmpf... grmmmmmmmmpf... (gasp) Ack ! ARGGGGNNNNNNnnnn..."
"Gjjjjjjjjgh... Ammmmnnnnnnnnnah ! (gasp) Gawwwwwwwwd.... Mmmmmmmmnnnnngh..."
"Mmpf Mmmmpf Mmmpf Mpf GNNNN.... GAH ! (gasp) ARGh... GRRRRRMMPF..."
Giggles -
"Eehehehe ehehehehe hehehe eeeehehehe (giggle) no please, that teehehehekles !"
"Eek ! Eek ! Eek ! Pleehehehease ! Hehehehehehehe ! Please stop ! Ehehehehe ! (squirm)"
"Nyeeehehehe ehehehe (giggle) stop eehehehet ! Pleehehehease ! Ehehehehe ! Eek ! Eek ! Eek !"
"Oh god, no, not that ! EEEEH ! EEEH ! Eeehehehehehehehehe eeheehehehehe heeehehehehe !"
Laughter, light -
"Ahahahaha ! Ahahahaha ! Hahahahahaha hahahahaha hahahahaha hahahahaha haha..."
"Hahahaha ! No, please ! Hahaahahahaha ! Hehehehehehehehe ! Hehehehehe..."
"EEK ! EEK ! EEEheheheheheheheeee... stoohohohohop (gasp) nohohohoho..."
"Whooohohohohohahahahahaha Whooooohohohohohohohahahaha ! Aaaahahahahaha !"
Laughter, wild -
"AAAHAHAHAHAHA ! AAAHAHAHAHA ! NOOHOHohohohoho HAHAHAHA !"
"PLEEEHEHEZE ! AAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA ! EEEHEHEHEHEHEHE !"
"YAAAAHAHAHAHAHA ! THAHAHAHAT TEEHEHEKLES ! NOOOHOHOHO !"
"NOOOOHOHOHO ! AAAAH ! AAHAHAHAHAHA ! YAAAHAHAHAHA !"
Laughter, crazy -
"ARGH ARGH AAAH !!! AAAAAAH !!! NOOOOHOHOHO !!! YAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA !!!"
"NYEEEHEHEHAHAHAHAHARGH ARGH AAAHAHA ARGH EEK AAAHAHAHAHAHA !!!"
"NOOOHOHOHO AAAHAHAHAHAHAHA PLEEEHEHEHEHE PLEEEHEHEHEHE AAAHAHAHAHA !"
"GAAAHAHAHA !!! GAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA !!! NOHOHOHO THAAAHAAHAHA AAAAHRGH !"
Laughter, silent -
".............................................................................................."
"....... ! ...................... !!! ...................... ! .............................."
".....(gasp)............... ! .................... (pant) .............................."
"............................................ !! .......................................... ? ...."
Pleads and appeals
Mocking -
"Oh god no, how horrible ! Not that ! You wouldn't think of tickling my feet, would you ?"
"You're going to... tickle me ? Right. Be my guest, I mean, oh no, please don't !"
"Good lord, you seem to be torturously titillating my tender tootsies ! How totally terrible !"
"You can't tickle my feet ! Oh please ! I just soaked them in a bottle of vinegar ! You'll ruin the smell !"
Half hearted -
"My... feet ? You're going to tickle my feet ? But... Why ? Please don't ! Don't do that to me !"
"I don't think I like the sound of that... foot tickling ? Oh, but I think I'm pretty ticklish... Please, let me go !"
"But I don't like being tickled ! Please stop that ! It's very uncomfortable. I said please stop it !"
"No ! Get away from me ! My feet are sensitive ! Don't tickle me, come on, leave me alone, okay ?"
Horrified -
"My...(gulp)...feet ? No, please... you can't tickle my feet ! You don't understand ! I'm very very ticklish !"
"Nonono, wait ! WAIT ! Can't we talk this over ? I'll never do it again ! Please... Not the FEET !!!"
"Oh GOD NOOO !!! Not that ! Anything but that ! This is torture ! Don't do that to me ! NOOOO !!!"
"Please, please, please ! I can't take this, my feet are hypersensitive, please, don't TICKLE !!!"
Desperate -
"NONONONOnonono, please PLEEEHEHEHEZE !!! NOT THAAHAHAHAT !!! STOOOHOHOHOP !"
"WAIT ! I'll do ANYTHING !!! PLEASE ! NOT THE FEEEHEHEHET !!! NOOOHOHOHO !!!"
"AAAHAHA MERCEEEHEHEHE PLEEEHEZE STOOOHOHOP !!! NOT THEEEHEHERE !!!"
"OH GOOOHOHOHOD I CAAHAHANT TAAAHAHAKE EEEHEHET !!! STOOOHOHOHOP !!!
Bland and boring (nicknamed FM tracks for some reason) -
"Oh please, oh no, god, stop, my feet, this is torture, I'm going to die, please stop."
"Ha. Ha. Ha. Stop. Oh No. My poor feet. It tickles."
"Refreshing and yet chock full of important vitamins and cereals - buy Bluoerk-brew, the slimy soda for the connoisseur ! This pleading has been a paid commercial."
"Thank you for calling. Your Pleading track will be send to you if you send a whole bunch of dollars to the following address... TAPE ENDS... BEEEEEEEEEEP !"
So anyway this isn't really a story. Not really. I don't know what it is. I don't wanna know, either. Here, have some! *SPLAT!*The Foot Police
{This is a very silly, actually really childish fantasy of mine. I guess all of us tickling enthusiasts tend to fantasize about tickling women we see walking barefoot. I just took it one step further... Strangely, this fantasy would fit perfectly if I had been around nine or so when it developed, maybe even younger, but that's not the case! It started nagging at my noggin at around 21, leaving me feeling rather stupid, if aroused. This load of bollocks is by no means realistic! It is something I keep coming back to, however, whenever I don't feel like straining my head for much of a plot line... You might say it's "Marauder on Holiday". By no means would I ever publish any of this incredible thrash (other than I just did... I'm such an attention-whore...)! I just write it down for you, so you can share a few laughs... Perhaps it even gives you an idea for a story! After all, even in the murkiest puddle of slimy goo a shiny golden coin might just be found... Naaah, probably not! So, throw all your common sense overboard, don't even try to see any sort of plot development, forget all you know about writing, and enjoy the silly and delightfully illogical world of... THE FOOT POLICE!!!}
[horrible cheap action/police TV show muzak blaring out of decrepit speakers at a nasty volume, while a artificially excited voice, like a very tinny version of a monster truck announcer, screams into a microphone held to close to the mouth]
The foot police have their eyes everywhere! Everyone could be their spy! In every corner might be one of their microscopic cameras, silently watching and recording! They know who you are! They know where you sleep at night! They know if you've been naughty or nice! And worst of all, they know exactly when you go barefoot, how often, and for how long!
They don't care about it if you're a guy, they only watch women! Why? They won't tell their reasons! They watch young women closely, and woe to the girl they catch walking barefoot in public! At home it's ok, but in public, it means a couple of red marks on the woman's record! The more public, the worse! And when they come get her, there's going to be some major attitude readjustment! I was going to write this stuff in all caps, as trash must be yelled, but I went for the exclamation marks instead!
[darkly whispering, sepulchral voice, music now from an organ, incredibly pathos laden church tunes, hoping to sound foreboding but really being quite annoying]
...somewhere in no-mans-land, there lies the fortress of forced mirth... deep within its bowels, the foot police have their headquarters, and it is here that they bring the girls that are so fond of walking barefoot... bringing them here to be... cured of their misconceptions... helpless, often muffled laughter echoes through the dank, dark, foreboding corridors... (the music reaches a crescendo in d-minor, reducing the last bit of tension to ashes, ruining the mood. Besides, the corridors look pathetically like old Star Trek Classic backgrounds, all cardboard and scarce paint, and the cameraman is drunk... who cares, this is a low budget fantasy) ...it is in these horrible halls that girls and young women suffer for their errors... it is here that they are mercilessly tortured until they'll never think of going barefoot again... it is here that the foot police has the best equipment and personal to perform their inhumane behavior modification, here in the... [fanfare, oh god, how CHEAP, voice pipes up to excited, Bad-50s-Horror-Flic-Preview-At-A-Drive-In-Near-You, crackling heights] ...DUNGEON OF FOOT TICKLING!!! [not even an original name... pity]
[okay, I'll actually put some more budget into this. Have an anchorman! (plop! there he is) and let's not forget the studio, good old news-flash issue! (plop!) And away with the music! At least let's play some good CDs! (easy-listening tunes in the background) Great so far! Now all I need is some popcorn and soda! Let's listen to what the man has to tell us!]
(Anchorman stares around wild eyed, not knowing where he is all of the sudden, then catches himself, smiles at the camera, looks at the teleprompter, frowns deeply at what he reads, then shrugs and smiles again) Good evening! I'm... erm... the Anchorman, I guess... Oh Whatever [I name him Barry! Barry Fewt! WHEEEE!!! this is so much fun!]... oh I seem to remember! I'm Barry Fewt, and I'm here to tell you about the politics of the ultra secret Foot Police... Wait a minute! If they're secret, why the heck am I talking about them on TV?!? [shut up, away with logic! talk, damnit, or you get turned into a potted plant and dropped 300 feet above the surface of a deserted alien planet!] Oh yes, that's the reason! Right. The Foot Police are there to make sure no women under a certain age walks around barefoot... by... taking them one by one if they're caught, taking them to a secret base, and then tickling their feet... oh god, it's so horribly stupid [shut up, get going!]... yes, okay. So, they capture the offending girls... wait a minute! Why would anybody with a foot fetish like you want barefoot girls off the street? that's plain counterproductive! [yeah, but this is MY totally bogus dream, so don't worry about it! common sense is something that happens to other people!] Good. If you say so. They capture the girls, take them to their... oh, the pain, the pain... Dungeon Of Foot Tickling... where they, presumably, tickle their feet... [more exactly! read the small print!]... sorry, forgot my glasses... (squints) ...oh, I see! The intensity and length of the treatment is depending on the amount of time the women have spent barefoot in public, and to the number of people who have seen their naked feet... also, they receive extra strong treatment for showing their soles, by sitting and putting up the feet, or even by flashing them whilst walking... lord, this is silly... okay, so what does intensity mean? It seems that they have an intensity rating of one to a hundred, one being the strokes of a soft feather, 100 being... the super tickling machine? Another horribly unimaginative name... well, and the time... for each minute a single person has seen their feet, they have to endure a full hour of tickling, and for each minute their soles were seen they get one day, a timeframe then multiplied by the number of people... this is plainly impossible! nobody lives that long! [read on, it gets better! wait until you see what else is there in the... sigh... you know, the dungeon...] okay, that means that most women get multiple centuries of tickling, roughly. I guess when they were showing their soles on TV or on the big screen, it would be one hell of a lot of millennia. Happy? [yep, read on already.] To make this possible, the foot police have equipped their... dungeon... with... TIME CHAMBERS?!? [MWAAHAHAHAHA!!! told ya you'd love it! ain't that just plain incredible? what a completely impossible, yet very nasty thought! and so joyously insanely DUMB!!!] Yes, I agree. So, in these Time Chambers, which are integrated into each cell, the girls can be tortured for almost an eternity, because every minute that passes outside corresponds to many years inside... how many? [who cares?] (sigh) and of course they are constantly tickled on their feet [soles!] soles? why just soles? [cause I like soles right now! I can change it back to feet later if I want to. This is my dream!] Okay, they are constantly tickled on their soles [bound and bare! insert a 'helpless' somewhere if you can, and something like hypersensitive! make it juicy, you prune!] Prune? Oh well... They are [from the beginning, and say something about superior equipment, too! JUICY!] Great. Yes.
Harumph.
The Foot Police scans the globe for girls who walk around barefoot. They record the incidents, then one day decide, for no apparent reason, that tonight's the night, and capture the girls. The offenders are then dragged kicking and screaming to the Foot Police's secret headquarter, the Fortress of Forced Mirth, and swiftly imprisoned in the Dungeon Of Foot Tickling. There, the helplessly screaming and laughing girls are subjected to nearly eternal, excruciating tickle tortures, focusing only on their hypersensitive, horribly ticklish, utterly helpless, twitching bare soles, The Policemen utilize special equipment that tickles hundreds of times worse than anything known to mankind, and employ extremely competent sole tickling experts. The length of this treatment is proportional to the number of people who have seen the girls' bare feet, and the amount of time they have been seen, adding up from her birth and each viewing person being counted singly. Each minute their feet have been viewed means one hour, each minute of glimpsed, bare sole means a whole day of unbearable, expert tickle torture! All the girls are subjected to a treatment making them incredibly sensitive to tickling upon their arrival. They suffer the tortures in specially constructed chambers that bend the flow of time in such a way that it's theoretically possible for a girl to be tickled for billions of years, and not age a day.
Pleased? [yes, very! ain't that plain horrible?] oh yes, it is. It's totally wacky. [thanks! bye!] what? [off goes the whole passel, PlopPlopPlop, and no mood music anymore! ah, what joy... WACKY is good! HEHEHEHEHE!!!]
{So that's the background for the short stories I like to whip up when I can't be bothered with thinking. I mostly place girls I know in the clutches of the foot police, but everybody's fair game, as long as they look good and are seen barefoot... ah, the pleasure of seeing a celebrity baring her soles on mainstream TV when I'm tired enough to dig this manure-cart of a fantasy, and the joys of watching a girl I find attractive, but I don't like so much, or one that I simply think deserves a good tickling, walking barefoot through a park... I told you it was childish! But I'll start writing down little, talent- and plot-less foot police thrash stories anyway. This is gonna be fun! Yay! Fantasies with chest hair! Pure testosterone! No stupid long plots, just straight down to the action! And all the women will be gagged, so I don't need to type all that pleading and screaming... WAIT A MINUTE!!! GOT AN IDEA!!!
Somebody-else-but-not-Marauder proudly (cough cough) presents : The first ever...
---DO IT YOURSELF LAUGHING AND PLEADING PUZZLEBOX!!! SELECT YOUR SOUNDTRACK; CUT AND PASTE INTO STORY!!! VOILA, INSTANT TICKLE TORTURE!!! COMING SOON!! ITS EASY!!! ITS FUN!!! AND IT CAN BE YOURS FOR ONLY YOUR ENTIRE FORTUNE PLUS YOUR LIFE INSURANCE, AND YOU EVEN GET A CRAPPY COOKIE!!! BUY!!! BUY!!! BUY!!!
(see, trash's gotta be yelled at the top of the lungs to get across... oh god, my head... oh well, where would I be if I couldn't make fun of myself...? In politics, no doubt...)
Okay, no writing shorts. I just wrote one, and it sucked so horribly that this doc reads like something from Kant in comparison, oh well... some things are just not meant to be... sigh... maybe it's better this way, cause if I started writing that kind of junk, it would reach critical mass in no time, detonate in a blaze of bull, and annihilate the universe as we know it. Once more, Marauder saves the day... This sort of nonsense always happens when I suffer from sleeplessness. See what my close friends have to put up with? But don't worry, the walls are padded and my jacket fits perfectly, I'll go jump around for a bit until I get my Prozak. Taa!
..and now...
The first ever Do It Yourself Laughing and Pleading Puzzlebox
-cut and paste to your heart's content !-
Laugh tracks
Biting back laughter -
"Ngg NNNNG... Argh... NNNNNG... (gasp) GRNFX... nnNNNNNG..."
"Ack ! (snort) mmmpf mmmmmmmpf... grmmmmmmmmpf... (gasp) Ack ! ARGGGGNNNNNNnnnn..."
"Gjjjjjjjjgh... Ammmmnnnnnnnnnah ! (gasp) Gawwwwwwwwd.... Mmmmmmmmnnnnngh..."
"Mmpf Mmmmpf Mmmpf Mpf GNNNN.... GAH ! (gasp) ARGh... GRRRRRMMPF..."
Giggles -
"Eehehehe ehehehehe hehehe eeeehehehe (giggle) no please, that teehehehekles !"
"Eek ! Eek ! Eek ! Pleehehehease ! Hehehehehehehe ! Please stop ! Ehehehehe ! (squirm)"
"Nyeeehehehe ehehehe (giggle) stop eehehehet ! Pleehehehease ! Ehehehehe ! Eek ! Eek ! Eek !"
"Oh god, no, not that ! EEEEH ! EEEH ! Eeehehehehehehehehe eeheehehehehe heeehehehehe !"
Laughter, light -
"Ahahahaha ! Ahahahaha ! Hahahahahaha hahahahaha hahahahaha hahahahaha haha..."
"Hahahaha ! No, please ! Hahaahahahaha ! Hehehehehehehehe ! Hehehehehe..."
"EEK ! EEK ! EEEheheheheheheheeee... stoohohohohop (gasp) nohohohoho..."
"Whooohohohohohahahahahaha Whooooohohohohohohohahahaha ! Aaaahahahahaha !"
Laughter, wild -
"AAAHAHAHAHAHA ! AAAHAHAHAHA ! NOOHOHohohohoho HAHAHAHA !"
"PLEEEHEHEZE ! AAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA ! EEEHEHEHEHEHEHE !"
"YAAAAHAHAHAHAHA ! THAHAHAHAT TEEHEHEKLES ! NOOOHOHOHO !"
"NOOOOHOHOHO ! AAAAH ! AAHAHAHAHAHA ! YAAAHAHAHAHA !"
Laughter, crazy -
"ARGH ARGH AAAH !!! AAAAAAH !!! NOOOOHOHOHO !!! YAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA !!!"
"NYEEEHEHEHAHAHAHAHARGH ARGH AAAHAHA ARGH EEK AAAHAHAHAHAHA !!!"
"NOOOHOHOHO AAAHAHAHAHAHAHA PLEEEHEHEHEHE PLEEEHEHEHEHE AAAHAHAHAHA !"
"GAAAHAHAHA !!! GAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA !!! NOHOHOHO THAAAHAAHAHA AAAAHRGH !"
Laughter, silent -
".............................................................................................."
"....... ! ...................... !!! ...................... ! .............................."
".....(gasp)............... ! .................... (pant) .............................."
"............................................ !! .......................................... ? ...."
Pleads and appeals
Mocking -
"Oh god no, how horrible ! Not that ! You wouldn't think of tickling my feet, would you ?"
"You're going to... tickle me ? Right. Be my guest, I mean, oh no, please don't !"
"Good lord, you seem to be torturously titillating my tender tootsies ! How totally terrible !"
"You can't tickle my feet ! Oh please ! I just soaked them in a bottle of vinegar ! You'll ruin the smell !"
Half hearted -
"My... feet ? You're going to tickle my feet ? But... Why ? Please don't ! Don't do that to me !"
"I don't think I like the sound of that... foot tickling ? Oh, but I think I'm pretty ticklish... Please, let me go !"
"But I don't like being tickled ! Please stop that ! It's very uncomfortable. I said please stop it !"
"No ! Get away from me ! My feet are sensitive ! Don't tickle me, come on, leave me alone, okay ?"
Horrified -
"My...(gulp)...feet ? No, please... you can't tickle my feet ! You don't understand ! I'm very very ticklish !"
"Nonono, wait ! WAIT ! Can't we talk this over ? I'll never do it again ! Please... Not the FEET !!!"
"Oh GOD NOOO !!! Not that ! Anything but that ! This is torture ! Don't do that to me ! NOOOO !!!"
"Please, please, please ! I can't take this, my feet are hypersensitive, please, don't TICKLE !!!"
Desperate -
"NONONONOnonono, please PLEEEHEHEHEZE !!! NOT THAAHAHAHAT !!! STOOOHOHOHOP !"
"WAIT ! I'll do ANYTHING !!! PLEASE ! NOT THE FEEEHEHEHET !!! NOOOHOHOHO !!!"
"AAAHAHA MERCEEEHEHEHE PLEEEHEZE STOOOHOHOP !!! NOT THEEEHEHERE !!!"
"OH GOOOHOHOHOD I CAAHAHANT TAAAHAHAKE EEEHEHET !!! STOOOHOHOHOP !!!
Bland and boring (nicknamed FM tracks for some reason) -
"Oh please, oh no, god, stop, my feet, this is torture, I'm going to die, please stop."
"Ha. Ha. Ha. Stop. Oh No. My poor feet. It tickles."
"Refreshing and yet chock full of important vitamins and cereals - buy Bluoerk-brew, the slimy soda for the connoisseur ! This pleading has been a paid commercial."
"Thank you for calling. Your Pleading track will be send to you if you send a whole bunch of dollars to the following address... TAPE ENDS... BEEEEEEEEEEP !"
