The new and improved completely inoffensive BEA Novel thread

[alelsupreme]

"So is there any particular reason we had to travel all the way here?" said Marx, the Taipei 101 looming over him

"Well, if he is back, then we can't stay where we were, can we?" replied Poe.

"Yes but... I don't think this is the best place to be taking him" nodding in the direction of Jason. Jason himself was in a red shirt with a large yellow star, with 4 others, arcing around the right of it. He was fidgeting, cursing under his breath.

"Who is he anyway, your lover?" quipped a smirking Poe.

Hairy grimaced, then quickly exclaimed "We're wasting time, we need to talk about how we're going to get Himself?" Poe looked at him quizzically, before replying, slowly
"He's... in a rather awkward place"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean... he's in the Antarctic"

Hairy stared, mouth wide open for a few seconds before exclaiming "T-the Antarctic? What the hell is he doing there?"
Poe, frowning, responded "All he said is he wanted to find a place free of human interference, with an abstract landscape, whatever the hell that means".
Hairy, still in a state of shock, shouted "Well how the hell are we supposed to get there?"
Before Poe could respond, Jason, unable to hold it in anymore, shouted at a passing soldier "THIS IS RIGHTFUL TERRITORY OF THE PEOPLE'S REPUBLIC OF CHINA, YOU BOURGEOIS PIG!"
"Oh fuck, run!" yelled Marx, setting off back towards the car, He leapt inside but, alas, the ignition mechanism, which required coal (as, according to Poe, gasoline would be far too mainstream) failed to breathe life into the square wheels, as Jason was too busy throwing the fuel at the rapidly approaching troops, and the three of them were arrested.
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Romanelli wrote:

We're all fucked, lads.

[Guest]

Shane O'Speare tried desperately to avoid eye contact. The room was stuffy and the smell of mothballs gave the air an uncomfortable thickness.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?"

Shane muttered something incoherent.

"WHAT THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THIS?", bellowed Joy. "We don't fucking publish pamphlets! Where's the rest of it?"

Eventually Shane mustered up some confidence and let out a little squeak. "The people need to know..."

"Know what?", asked Joy. "What in the fuck is anybody going to glean from these three fucking pages that appear to have been written by several different authors, each with little to no interest in following the same story and whose characters appear to be added in willy fucking nilly with the assumption the reader knows everything about them already? I'm a fucking book publisher, Mr. O'Speare, and this is not anybody's idea of A FUCKING BOOK!"

Shane visibly withered as Joy O'Divijahn's voice grew rapidly louder, but he had to get his words publicised. Terrible things were happening, things beyond his control, somewhere far away or maybe right next door, and he knew. He didn't know how he knew, or why, but he knew, and he had to let other people know. People were dying, and nobody was talking about it.

"Mr. Divijahn... sir... th-there has to be some way of getting this story out, l-l-lives are dep-p-pending on it..."

"What the fuck are you fucking on about, O'Speare?"

"Well, these words aren't my choice. Well, they are. It's difficult to explain. It's like I'm channeling someone, or something. All I know is that everything I've written on those three pages is true. It is happening right now, and I feel like it's up to me to stop it. I need to spread the word."

"What the fuck are you doing at a book publisher then? Nobody fucking reads books anymore, you imbecile. The only reason I'm still rich is because I invested in Pixar back when it looked like fucking Minecraft. This whole publishing house is essentially a vanity project. Look, go and photocopy it, you fucking cretin, there's only three fucking pages." Joy buzzed down to his secretary, "Look Sue, could you show this gentleman to the photocopier and print him off as many copies as he needs? Thanks. Now, Mr. O'Speare, fuck off and go spread the word by yourself."

[alelsupreme]

"I could have you killed quite easily, you know"

Hairy and Poe looked up at the huge chinese man, towering over them. Inside, they both reflected that this wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for the wannabe-Guevera next to them currently shouting about totalitarian brutality. This devastating critique of Taiwan, police and Taiwanese police was countered with an even more devastating punch to the face. The verbal one-man-revolution soon stopped.

After silencing JasonComrade, as he now wished to be called, the officer turned to Poe and Hairy.

"Now, I'd think you were spys, but surely Beijing would be less... obvious. And I also doubt they'd send a Jap and a Brit. So, just what are you doing here?"

Poe, still staring at the floor with his mushroom-like hair obscuring his eyes, mumbled "oh, as if you don't know"

This grabbed the attention of the officer, who then grabbed Poe. Shoving him across the wall he demanded to know, just what was he supposed to know?

"You're in league with them, you helped bring him back!", he was practically screaming at him now. The officer, having had more than enough of this, prepared to have a good go at smashing his face through the wall, was suddenly called in by his superior, the prisoners were to be released immediately. Cursing under his breath, he dropped the Poe to the floor and opened the door. Hairy, utterly baffled at the proceedings, helped the Poe and Jason to their feet and walked them down the corridor. When he reached the end, he was informed as to why they were released: They had been bailed out by the newly crowned prince of the Kingdom of Pakistan: His Junior Excellency Eggtax Walra, or in short, Eggman.
_________________

Romanelli wrote:

We're all fucked, lads.

[Patman360]

"Seriously like, how the fuck did I get into this mess?", the hooded man thought to himself as he waited outside in the grimiest alley he had ever come across.

Turning to see a rat scurrying along near the foot the wall, he drew his pistol, eyeing up a shot, but held back figuring the bullets may come in useful in the near future.

Now was the last chance to bail, he could still get out. Sure, they'd come after him, but either way that was bound to happen from one party or another. All he had to do was turn and walk away before that door swung open. He puffed thoughtfully on his last cigarette, contemplating his future.

And then his future was decided for him...

The door swung open and there was now no turning back now.

"Fuck it, here it goes", in he stepped, cigarette still in one hand and a silver briefcase in the other. The door shut behind him the second he was clear of it.
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2023
2022

[alelsupreme]

The three of them stood there. Their eyes flicked around uncertainly, they were all unused to such glamour. The chairs were gold, the walls were gold - even the goddamn floor had gold lace interwoven. The sight of such decadence had Jason quivering with rage, the sound of his teeth grinding becoming louder and louder. The fact that his saviour was an monarch of all things was nigh on unbearable.

The long wait only made them more nervous - how did they know this wasn't a trap? For all they know the Objectivists had taken Pakistan long ago, it always happened so slowly one didn't know until it was too late. Finally, the prince walked in. He was far younger than they expected, no older than 14 they'd say. He was in a surprisingly un-regal attire - t-shirt and shorts. On the T-Shirt was an Italian man eating a sundae with two spoons encased in a heart. Marx and Poe shared a look - is that him? Jason had his eyes shut tight - everything in this room made him want to scream.

"Well, aren't you going to bow?"
Poe and Marx both looked shocked, and started to bow before Eggman snorted, sneering "I was being facetious."

"So, I hear you want to stop the objectivists?"
The word set Poe off, as all his nerves turned to energy.
"Those white anglo fuckers are ruining the world, we must destroy them!"
After the ensuing awkward pause a worried looking Marx replied "yes, we would rather appreciate some help. What do you intend to do?"
"Oh, well I was going to try nuking them."
Marx gawped at him, horrified. Poe looked very passive about such an idea, while Jason just remained a solitary human pillar of rage.

"Relax, I was being facetious"

This was going to be a very, very long meeting.


TELO admired himself in the mirror. He was the spitting image of Picard, and he'd surely be the envy of the entire convention! He walked out the door, a huge smile on his face and a phaser in his pocket. However, whilst driving to the convention centre, he passed through some rather rough neighbourhoods. The words to the summers smash urban hit rang through, and as darker faces came into view he wound his windows up. However, when he saw a large crowd gathering outside an abandoned building, he chanced a look, to see what they were looking at. He saw very little, all he could make out was an hispanic man lying on the floor, with a hole in his head where his brain should be. However, as he looked closer he was horrified.

The walls said #nezzled.
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Romanelli wrote:

We're all fucked, lads.