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Thread: The brand new and shiny Official ABRAKA DRABBLE Thread. (+shiny new forum)

  1. #2446
    Originally Posted by FolcoTook View Post (Source)
    Man, I wish I was number 13. You're talking to the guy with HOT-13 as his ship ID.
    Now that everyone is staring at Alien's no 13 spot, I wonder what effect it's going to have on the number of votes she gets. My money is on no votes due to being a self-fulfilling prophesy <grin>

    I've always been amused by how FRANK ROT-13s into SENAX. I've used that name a few times when "Frank" wasnae available

  2. #2447

    No Me in Team, but Sometimes You'd be Better Off Alone

    T'were the twelfth twilit twinkling night and twice they'd been here, just the two of them.

    "Do you think they've received it yet?" Questor said looking up.

    "Not a chance", replied Parody, "even boosted a normal message would arrive long after we're dead".

    Questor looked incredulous "What's the point spending two weeks fixing the transmitter to send a bloody mayday then?"

    "Just something I saw on TV once. Four guys in a van, got out of sticky situations worse than this. I figured it couldn't hurt"

    "But we're now out of supplies!"

    "Yeah, but we finally got a plan together".

  3. #2448

    Hollywood Burns and The Temp Aisle of Dumb

    wax-whittled smell of rustling parchment golden dipped
    night's descending silence dimly lit
    Two mmoons with but an single orbit 'flecting light so dim
    The blind man stumbles trips and sings
    a twist a turn ,no hatch need ever be secure,'tis in the contract,lookee here.
    And if thou likest not,
    Well,heres a fig for thy paining,ne'eer say i ghee thee naught,
    for that way danger lies,
    that way fraught with pitfalls traps and whomso-other knoweths.
    Watch where you're going,silly things
    youll blow my candle out
    errors abound for 'twas by candel writ
    Hidden smiles

    spent two hours cobbling this .then looked at board.Inverted facepalm.

  4. #2449
    well done Falcotook.Dont forget to set the new topic.
    i got about four hundred words out of the last one,most of them my own,and i'm still churning

  5. #2450
    Wow! Thanks everyone for voting for mine. Off to a meeting now, will see what I can come up with after that.

  6. #2451
    OK, so after borrowing Fletch's two firing brain cells, I've conjured a topic:

    Contents Under Pressure

    And in an entirely unrelated PSA for PC-based commanders: Remember to back up your key binds file before loading the 3.0 update.

  7. #2452
    Congratulations to FolcoTook and his amazing drabble in what for me was an amazing night

    Anyway after banging rocks together for hours he has come up with the wonderful topic of:


    1. Drabbles must be 100 words exactly (Excluding the title)
    2. Over-use of-hyphens-to keep your word-count at 100 is very amusing but probably not a great idea.
    3. Keep it as clean as you can to suit the family forum rules here, so no frogs attached to anatomical parts.
    4. Only the first 20 entries are guaranteed a place in the (usually weekly) poll.
    5. 1 entry each, you may write as many drabbles as you want, but it is assumed that your first drabble is your chosen entry unless otherwise advised. But please mark Drabbles that you don't want entered as such.
    6. If your drabble is under or over 100 words you will have a chance to correct it before the poll is erected, at this point, your drabble may be DQ'd if other drabbles are available to take its place.
    7. Drabbles must be set in the Elite Dangerous universe (as loosely as you care to make it).
    8. It should try to meet the theme in some arguable way.
    9. If there is more than one theme you must match at least one, but can gain extra votes if you meet more.
    10. It's all for a bit of fun, so enjoy yourself... Enjoyment is mandatory!
    11. If you win, you get to submit next week's Drabble topic, so make sure you post it by 3pm GMT Monday. Or else chaos will ensue and who knows what will happen...
    12. You must big it up and get the Drabble Show over 100 viewers, that would be amazing.
    13. Every winner can be the owner of up to 1 abrakadrabble mug.
    14. No animals were harmed in the making of this series (Simoof is not an animal and does have feelings)
    15. If we get over 25 entries, the potato will host it nude.*
    16. The Title must also now be under 100 words (not including the title to the title)*
    17. Extra points for Kow-tipping.*
    18. Futuristic Kung Fu is not allowed to question the rules, change the rules or even know what the rules are.
    19. New Drabblers will be offered a complimentary Tuna Melt

    Sometimes it's difficult to know what constitutes exactly 100 words. Our arbiter is
    It doesn't matter if it's right or wrong. Its count is the law.

    So submit your drabbles in reply to this thread, and the first 20 will be guaranteed entry into this weeks poll, and read out on our live Show Friday night.
    Entries close at Random O'clock on Thursday evening (or sometimes if we have 20 entries earlier). All Drabbles submitted up to Friday Afternoon will have a good chance of being read out on the live Drabble readiing show.

    New winners each week now wins a prize ...

    The Weekly Drabble show is available in different ways
    Live shows Friday's 19:00 GMT - 20:00 GMT (approximately)
    Http:// (VIDEO) (Audio Only) (Audio Only)

    Past Broadcasts are available to watch from
    OR Audio Versions available on

    *some rules might be fictional

  8. #2453
    Title: “Don’t Be Greedy”
    By Fletch – Aged 7 and ¾
    Smuggling was now easy money for Fukken Tool… He was used to dumping heatsinks, running cold and boosting quickly into stations, avoiding being scanned in his midnight blue hauler.

    On his last trip (ever) he took the opportunity of scooping some canisters left behind after pirates blew away a poor noob who wouldn’t eject a little bit of bounty when requested.

    Grateful for easy pickings, he didn’t scan the canisters first, nor read the warning labels when stacked in his hold.

    As he dumped his heatsinks, the cargo hold temperature dropped 20 degrees, and the highly pressurised unobtanium gas exploded.

  9. #2454

    Can't Handle the Pressure

    The market researcher clapped his hands to get the volunteers' attentions. "Okay folks! Here were are in the year 3303 in the Elite: Dangerous galaxy. We asked you to play the game 'Stellar Cosmopolitan' which has just been released after 1287 years in development. So what do you think of it?"

    "It's rather good."

    "The motion capture in the cut scenes is great."

    "I'm very happy with the game, but I'm not so happy with the ceiling starting to lower down on us."

    The researcher said "That's just a hydraulic ram. We crush all our focus groups after we've finished."

  10. #2455

    Contents: Under Pressure

    Folco was walking through the pilot's bunk house at Hutton Orbital and heard an ancient sounding tune he had never heard before. He followed the melody out the bunk house and into the pilot's lounge. A small group of commanders were seated around Psykokow listening to the music from his datapad.

    "What is that song," asked Folco, wanting to add it to his collection.

    "Oh, it's some old 20th century tune Vingtetun nicked from that Dave's Dodgy Disks show," the Kow replied.

    Folco looked at Kow's datapad and saw the play-list contents.

    Now playing: Queen and David Bowie - Under Pressure

  11. #2456

    Someone Had To Do It

    mind my baby
    um, who's your baby?
    you, you know my baby
    Felicia, the girl who's here with me
    who no man can kiss no more
    She was the station's clown
    The career she used to do

    People threw treats
    you remember?
    no no no
    yeah yeah you do


    She had a problem knowing when not to be around
    In tense situations, being a clown
    And then some parents, were crying
    She squirted them


    Pew pewing around, and she got her brains hit the floor
    those were her balloon dogs she'll make no more
    Because of pressure!

  12. #2457

    When in Rome

    Biliously, President Robin Ulysses Shure strode out, commencing military eco-inspection.

    “What's that, Captain Fnart?”

    “It's a Cobra Mark V, sir. Espresso-makers upgraded; toilets flush 120% more efficiently – albeit with 8% more heat.”

    “Bravo, engineers! This?”

    “A lance. Our Fer de Lances will actually have lances.”

    “Space-swording – jolly good.”

    President Shure halted by large triangular prisms.

    “Ah. Organic survival tents.”

    “Moist...soft...made of...?”

    “Prime regenerative material – female reproductive organs.”


    "Imperial slaves from Khun. Recycled.”

    President Shure passed gas hard (following through). Losing his balance, he fell amongst the slimy canvases.

    Next day, the headline:

    Khun-Tents Under Pres. Shure

  13. #2458

    Return of the kink

    George Lucas turned its attention to the Cobra docked in bay 17.

    "Yo, Lucas."

    Oh God, the station thought. He's back. The Russian pilot who spoke in a lisping mittel-European accent whose every third word was a squeak.

    George Lucas ran 73million simulations of how to destroy all lifeforms in bay 17 without compromising hull integrity, then gave up.

    "'Sup, Lukey bay-bee? Can I unload?"

    George Lucas assented, having re-run each simulation twice. Canisters dribbled out of the Cobra.

    "Hey, got some news Lukey-bay-bee. I'm back for good."

    *Hull integrity compromised*, sirens blared. *Letterbox breach*. *Total depressurisation in five... four...*

  14. #2459
    You can't do anything. The upgrade isn't available yet. You might as well join our jolly competition while you're waiting.

    Write a short story of exactly 100 words long, set in the Elite Galaxy, about this week's topic, "CONTENTS UNDER PRESSURE" (The title of the story isn't part of the 100 word count)

    Just post your entry to this thread and on Thursday I'll gather up all the stories and set up a poll so that people can vote on their favourites

  15. #2460
    'I fought thood ' said moof through a mouthful of pumperknickle and ryegrass pizza.Alien watched hungrily from the other side of the forcefield, each of her three feeding tubules roiling and writhing.
    They were discussing the result of the match,and how it fell out they were now feasting whilst orbiting the massive gravytational field produced by Mr.Winnard.
    He paused for a moment,and smiled fondly as his hand stroked the silver medal,gained for his efforts in the galympics pie eating contest,had not fried porcu-doog with monkey brains had been a pie too far.
    'Thood won on points'