PiSketch sighs, somewhat dissapointed, but quickly gets over it.
He also wanders over to the scribbled upon effigy of himself and erases the scribbles.
Having done so, he asks the bartender for some "plain old ink, nothing special."
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"thanks a bunch!!"
Indigo begins sipping his drink when he pauses, gets out a PEN and a PAD OF PAPER, and starts drawing. every body moves over to see what is drawing. first a draws a bit of wall. then he started to draw some ruins. then passes his hand over it and all the animation starts. he then adds a little ship to the beginning of the wall and it is finished.
"isn't that the old art of map making?"
"yes... but i had to steal this from Mr. Pen. he had a big backup of sketchtopia and some extra pads. is was relatively simple, but the pen is running out of ink."
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"Sayyyyy Mr. Bartender. Do you have Scumble?"
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The lack of paper hiccups, then, on second though, decides against hiccuping, prints a retraction in the local news lack-of-paper, and instead hiccoughs. As this wave-like and/or particle-like disturbance spreads outward at a constant speed once corrected for framerate lag, it causes the area of Sketchtopia not occupied by maps to jiggle in a manner somewhat reminiscent of a two-dimensional version of a brand name flavored gelatin snack, and for a moment everything in existence orbits the bistro. Just as suddenly, everything in existence gets over it and goes back to whatever it was doing before. For the most part this involves sipping tea and teasing physicists in between watching reruns of The Cosby Show.
All of these events chaotically amplify in accordance with the sketched-butterfly-like-sprite effect, setting off the most furious tornado ever experienced in the bistro. This huge vortex is nearly as tall as the tip of a pen is wide and, given the innate inability of helical motion to exist in Euclidean 2-space, promptly peters out. The only sign of its passing is a few drops of rain that, upon closer inspection, appear to be grue colored ink, which fall into a closed container with today's date printed on it.
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"Oh my. That was decidedly odd. I need a drink."
GSN opens his dimensional pocket and pulls out a tall glass of Octarine colored ink.
"To the eternal Void!"
GSN downs the ink and turns Octarine colored. -
GSN pets one of the bugs.
"Hmmm needs something "
GSN draws kitty ears on the bug.
"Perfect! It's so cuuuuuuute!" :wub: -
A wizened looking Sketchfighter glances at the newly drawn door from the bar.
"Ah, some folk from distant parts!" he remarks, motioning at the bugs now pouring in from the doorway. "Do you hail from my neck of the Forest, or would you be Wastelanders?"
"You'd be right at the second guess." answers the largest of the bugs, not picking up on the 'neck of the Forest' joke.
"Well what news from the Wasteland? I've not been there since my last Missile upgrade."
"Well, most folk around there are finding it increasingly difficult to remain un-bothered by The Pen. That's why me and a few others (he nodded at the huddled group of bugs behind him) headed north to seek a new home. We're not the only ones mind you, allot of flickers are leaving for the Forest, but we're not as fast as them and the distance would be quite tiring for us."
"Ah, so you wandered onto the Race Track I presume?" replied the Sketchfighter, now greatly interested in the bugs tale.
"Yes, not but a few minutes ago. No sooner had we decided on a suitable corner for residence when we saw this door open up and, well, here we are!"
"Indeed, that's quite a tale you've told. But if you're looking for a place where you won't be bothered by The Pen, you've found it my friend."
With that the bugs joined the Sketchfighter in a few drinks at the bar.
"Only half a glass for you young-uns!"
-
Prophile smiles, erases the new door, sits down, and begins to engage in idle chat with one of the bugs.
"What's your story?" he asks, looking up from his Flicker's.
"Weeeeell... I'm not really a wastelander. My lot are from the Volcano originally..."
Prophile talks for about half an hour to the bug, before getting up and drawing up to more Flicker's.
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"I do not have scumble, however now I do have some grue-colored ink available, date 22/02. Hurry up, there won't be much for everyone!"
The bistrotier notices GNS's doodles
"Hey you! don't mess with my walls! There's the chalkboard for this porpoise!" The bistrotier points to a green, empty chalkboard in the corner. "As for you the door drawer, I don't mind, but remember the bitro is what you do of it, so use this power reponsibly. As far as I am concerned, you could simply have let them in through the usual door "
OT: Yeah, perhaps better to only use "bistro" (I originally used the French spelling "bistrot")
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"Hmmm I'll take an order of Grue ink and store it away. I'm still full of Octarine."
GSN wanders over to the chalk board and starts doodling. -
@prophile, on Feb 26 2007, 09:27 PM, said in The Bistro Beyond the Edge of the Paper Sheet:
Prophile wanders over to join GSN at the chalk board, and silently writes out a formula for pepetual motion.
At this point, Mr Pratchett (who already seems to have taken over some of the narration) writes a footnote about how the world would have turned out very differently, if only the occupants of it could spell
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"This just in: we interrupt our regularly scheduled programming to inform you that the regulars of a bistro have collectively invented pepetual (not perpetual, pepetual) motion while brainstorming in this bistro. They are now trying to figure out what the heck is pepetual motion, and what applications it could have, with a focus in cosmetics and Voidular forensics."
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GSN finishes covering the chalkboard with doodles of kitties.
"Yay! Kitties!"
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The Pen notices some SketchFighters and bugs have ascaped
This post has been edited by FireFalcon : 03 March 2007 - 04:35 PM
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"No need for an undo, the world decided that it refused to be destroyed, so it came out fine, and no one's been affected."