Fed II Star - April 2, 2006

POSTS OF THE WEEK

Stardate: 114335:7621 - Mentallyhayzed: something seems to be standing between me and my sanity
Stardate: 114336:0913 - Zand: Well Mental, would you rather it be sitting?

Stardate: 114338:0688 - Hazed: There are two rules to comedy. Rule 1: always leave them wanting more.

Stardate: 114341:6061 - Art: The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane. -- Marcus Aurelias (And I guess it's too late for me.)

Stardate: 114367:5523 - Nightdroid: Mathematics is the truth. Physics is the rules of the game. Chemistry is the game. Biology is the player.
Stardate: 114368:5727 - Asterix: That's not fair, I failed all those subjects! What about History, Writing, the Social Sciences?
Stardate: 114368:7673 - Buddy: History is a record of all the blunders you made, writing is what actually preserves them in history and social sciences compares all your blunders to those in all societies;)

Stardate: 114374:1119 - Asterix: Insert witty, yet thought provoking saying here> - [Relatively Obscure/somewhat known philosopher/politician]
Stardate: 114374:7662 - Robius: Listen to your mother or you'll end up hurt, laying in a hospital bed with dirty underwear, one eye, and a frozen face.

MOODS OF THE WEEK

Wearing the Mask of Zorro and making a Z in the back of your trousers with his sword, Buddy has left.

Beauty is a light switch away Occy has left.

whips and chains and torturous pain, these are a few of my favorite things, Robius is here.

With his shoelaces very much tied together, Gwaptiva has left.

EXIT OF THE WEEK

Gandroid sneezes, but holds it in. His head expands to twice its original size, his single ocular unit begins to extend like a camera lens trying to focus when he suddenly explodes, leaving tiny fragments of himself scattering and skittering about all over.
Gandroid blindly (and headlessly) fumbles for his comm unit and presses a large red button, summoning the cleaning droids who quickly appear and quietly cart him off through the service entrance. A small, round robot hums over his head fragments, picking them up and then skitters off, following.
Serving, but not dishing it out, Gandroid has left.

If you have nominations for the Quote, Mood, Post, Clothes, Act, or anything else of the Week, send them to fi@ibgames.com.