Yes i just had the same result, but i don't use chat much.I can't get into the chatroom, it keeps saying invalid username or password-I'm assuming this is due to the recent shutdown, hoping it'll be resolved soon!
~K
yeah, what happened?
We were attacked by a vicious band of marauding, laser-cannon-mounted cyborg grizzly bears, who wanted our territory due to the vast amount of shoes and socks people here carelessly discarded back in the Great Tickle War of 2011. The long-forgotten apparel would've provided the cyborg bears all the material they needed to craft their braided cloth starships that they use to further their conquest of the galaxy of pervy websites in which people dump their clothing around prior to festivities - a vicious cycle.
It was by pure chance that our staff member Budweiserbob was on guard at the outer southwest outpost, where the cyborg bears started their advance. Well...Bob just so happened to be taking a snooze at the time, but the frequency waves of his very-English snoring somehow agitated the bears' cybernetic audio receptors, throwing them into a crazed frenzy, eliminating their element of surprise.
The rest of us staff was alerted to all the growling and roaring, and entered the battle via airship, where we engaged the cyborg bears with high-velocity feather-guns. We knew the bears wouldn't be ticklish due to the metallic skin and implants, so we modified the guns and used the maximum settings in order to turn the feathers into deadly armor-piercing projectiles. The bears answered our counterattack with their laser cannons, but Mistress Valerie trained us well, and we were able to dodge most of the incoming fire. Commander HDS piloted the airship masterfully while we picked off the bears one-by-one. TheChameleon used his camouflage ability to infiltrate the enemy lines and disabled most of their big guns, and we pushed them further back.
However, out of desperation, the cyborg bears pulled out their last-resort weapon - a massive EMP bomb meant to shut down all electronics. The bomb went off, sending shockwaves everywhere, which hit both the airship and the website. That's when TickleTheater shut off, and our emergency bikini-chick sentinel force stepped in to shield our vulnerable site from other greedy bastards (thus what you all saw when you tried logging in). The airship was also going haywire due to the EMP, and was in danger of crashing, had it not been for the quick actions of our Canadian staff chick extraordinaire, Beckers, who dumped poutine all over the controls and circuits, somehow reconfiguring and further protecting everything with its cheesy gravy goodness.
With the airship back in control, I ran into the mix with my egg-beater and started blasting all that I could, hoping to completely rout the already-panicked cyborg bear force. As they were runnning for their braided cloth ships, TickleTheater himself came up in his own ship and started blasting them all to pieces. The group's counterattack worked, and we were victorious!
But of course, the site was still under the influence of the EMP. So for the next day, while the bikini sentinels kept watch, we were busy cooking up more poutine and fixing up what we could. Now here we are, back from the brink of utter grizzly destruction, with all of our shoes and socks intact.
Thus begins another great age of TickleTheater. May our laughter lift our spirits and give us strength, for our spirit is the light that guides tickle-lovers everywhere.
We were attacked by a vicious band of marauding, laser-cannon-mounted cyborg grizzly bears, who wanted our territory due to the vast amount of shoes and socks people here carelessly discarded back in the Great Tickle War of 2011. The long-forgotten apparel would've provided the cyborg bears all the material they needed to craft their braided cloth starships that they use to further their conquest of the galaxy of pervy websites in which people dump their clothing around prior to festivities - a vicious cycle.
It was by pure chance that our staff member Budweiserbob was on guard at the outer southwest outpost, where the cyborg bears started their advance. Well...Bob just so happened to be taking a snooze at the time, but the frequency waves of his very-English snoring somehow agitated the bears' cybernetic audio receptors, throwing them into a crazed frenzy, eliminating their element of surprise.
The rest of us staff was alerted to all the growling and roaring, and entered the battle via airship, where we engaged the cyborg bears with high-velocity feather-guns. We knew the bears wouldn't be ticklish due to the metallic skin and implants, so we modified the guns and used the maximum settings in order to turn the feathers into deadly armor-piercing projectiles. The bears answered our counterattack with their laser cannons, but Mistress Valerie trained us well, and we were able to dodge most of the incoming fire. Commander HDS piloted the airship masterfully while we picked off the bears one-by-one. TheChameleon used his camouflage ability to infiltrate the enemy lines and disabled most of their big guns, and we pushed them further back.
However, out of desperation, the cyborg bears pulled out their last-resort weapon - a massive EMP bomb meant to shut down all electronics. The bomb went off, sending shockwaves everywhere, which hit both the airship and the website. That's when TickleTheater shut off, and our emergency bikini-chick sentinel force stepped in to shield our vulnerable site from other greedy bastards (thus what you all saw when you tried logging in). The airship was also going haywire due to the EMP, and was in danger of crashing, had it not been for the quick actions of our Canadian staff chick extraordinaire, Beckers, who dumped poutine all over the controls and circuits, somehow reconfiguring and further protecting everything with its cheesy gravy goodness.
With the airship back in control, I ran into the mix with my egg-beater and started blasting all that I could, hoping to completely rout the already-panicked cyborg bear force. As they were runnning for their braided cloth ships, TickleTheater himself came up in his own ship and started blasting them all to pieces. The group's counterattack worked, and we were victorious!
But of course, the site was still under the influence of the EMP. So for the next day, while the bikini sentinels kept watch, we were busy cooking up more poutine and fixing up what we could. Now here we are, back from the brink of utter grizzly destruction, with all of our shoes and socks intact.
Thus begins another great age of TickleTheater. May our laughter lift our spirits and give us strength, for our spirit is the light that guides tickle-lovers everywhere.