Pibb and Tennis Page 2

Pages in the Pibb and Tennis Archive

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Author: Luiigii of the Pipes

Weekday: And next we have--

~Three mysterious figures swoop across the stage, grab Weekday, and disappear. The director (who is not the director from before) shrugs, grabs a random window off the set, and puts it in Weekday's chair.~

***

Pilot: WEEKDAY! WEEKDAY! Oh man, how could I forget her?! She'll never forgive me! And then I'll have to find a new girlfriend or deal with a girlfriend who will never forgive me and just always be secretly angry at me and I just don't know if I can deal with that do you think you could deal with that I don't think you could oh man where is she where is she where is she?!

Argyle: Relax. She's probably just at the local hardware shop.

???: I think NOT!

~Pilot and Argyle turn and find three figures holding Weekday.~

Pilot: Oh no!

~The first is a man wearing all black, with hands that shine with grease. The second is another man wearing a ridiculously accurate bird costume.~

Pilot: Streak... Stupid Bird... AND BASEBALL BOY!

~Baseball Boy is a girl with a baseball bat and baseball...ball. Her hair is hidden under her cap.~

Argyle: Who are they?

Pilot: Weekday's arch-nemeses! Don't do it! Don't!

Streak: We've been waiting for this, heh heh... ~puts a finger on Weekday~

Pilot: NO!

~Streak drags his finger slowly across Weekday's glass, leaving a mark.~

Pilot: ~falls to the ground writhing~ NOOOOOO!

Argyle: Why are you doing this?!

Streak: Because... why are we doing this?

Stupid Bird: Durrr... just shut up an streak!

~Streak rips his clothes off and runs down the street.~

Stupid Bird: Urrr... okay. Mah turn, ah guess.

~Stupid Bird plants Weekday firmly in the ground, backs away, then runs and lunges into her headfirst, hitting almost but not quite hard enough to break her.~

Pilot: OH GOD! STOP STOP STOOOOOOOP! ~bawls~ NOOOOOO!

~Stupid Bird does this a few more times, then nods to Baseball Boy, who gets ready to throw the ball into the air.~

Argyle: Wait!

Baseball Boy: Why should... I mean ~gruff voice~ Why should I?

Argyle: Because I challenge you to a tennis duel!

~Streak comes back and dresses just in time for all three of them to gasp.~

Stupid Bird: Triples!

Argyle: Err, I meant Singles.

Stupid Bird: But ah says Triples before you says Singles, so we does Triples.

Argyle: Crap... Pilot!

Pilot: NO MORE NO MORE!

Argyle: Okay, I'll get back to you. Oh man...

~Desperdorado walks past, carrying a stack of wooden planks.~

Desperdorado: Hola.

Argyle: Hey! We need your help.

Desperdorado: Que paso?

Argyle: Your lack of accents and upside-down ?s aside, these guys just challenged us to a Triples match for Weekday's life, and there's only two of us.

Desperdorado: Si. I would do anything to help a beautiful lady.

Pilot: ~jumps up and gets in Desperdorado's face~ YOU BETTER WATCH IT BUB OR I'LL...

Argyle: Okay, okay. Let's just go.

~Screen fades to black while playing some music, then comes back with the exact same pose, only a tennis court between the groups. Desperdorado takes out his pistols.~

Pilot: Wait, can you use those in tennis?

Desperdorado: Just watch me, amigo.

~Streak serves the ball. Desperdorado shoots it out of the air.~

Judgemaster Cid: ~whistle~ PENALTY! ~gives Desperdorado a Yellow Card~

Desperdorado: Aye...

Author: Golem

Judgemaster Cid: All of a sudden... I'm really tired...

~Elsewhere...~

Weekday: Well, that's a wrap! Come back tomorrow when--

Weekend, the stained glass window from earlier: ~in the producer's seat~ NO! NOT A WRAP!

Weekday: No! I can't do it any more!

Weekend: Do I need to remind you of what happens if you don't continue...?!

~Weekend presses a button on her chair. On the vid screen behind Weekday is shown live footage of Pilot. Just above his head hovers an anvil.~

Weekend: As soon as you stop, I pull this rope ~motions to a rope next to her hanging down from the ceiling~, the anvil falls, And Pilot is GONERZ!

Weekday: Wait! I have a better idea!

Weekend: Yeah?

Weekday: Let's consolodate our villainy here...

~Weekday pulls a rope hanging down from the ceiling, and Weekend falls into a black hole. Out from the black hole appears Dove Soap, Irish Spring Soap, and Lever 2000.~

Weekday: It's as if Weekend never existed. Now we won't have character overflow.

Audience Member #158: Holy crap! Just use Streak, Stupid Bird, and Baseball Boy! Everybody forgot about those other three!!

~Quentin Tarantino's helicopter smashes in through the ceiling.~

Tarantino: That was fun!

~Judgemaster Cid wakes up.~

Cid: Woah! That's like the tenth dream I've had about that show.

~Then Judgemaster Cid realizes he is being used as the tennis ball.~

Cid: This is new!

Author: AaronGuy

Desperdorado: ~Now using one of the wooden planks he was going to use for his house as a racket~ The enemy is not quite so tough as they seem, eh?

Stupid Bird: ~Keeps trying to slam is face into the ball, which only serves to give him a massive migraine~

Streak: ~can't seem to get a good hold of his racket~

Baseball Boy: ~Actually manages to hit the ball, making him the only real threat, UNTIL a slight breeze lifts his hat off his head, revealing...~

Pilot: A GIRL?! But girls don't play baseball! I'm pretty sure there's a rule somewhere!

Baseball Boy: ~holding back tears~ Coach won't let me play, even though I'm better than any of the boys on that crummy team! I'll show them... I'll show them all! Girls CAN play baseball! Girl power! ~storms off~

Stupid Bird: ~starts running off after Baseball Boy, but goes in the completely wrong direction, running through the side of a building~

Streak: Hey, what about... oh... FINE, take your crummy window! Just remember, you better sleep with your shutters open, because we'll be BACK! ~streaks away~

Argyle: Don't say it, Pilot.

Pilot: Say what?

Argyle: You know, 'it'. That one thing you always seem to say when we get out of one situation before we get caught in another.

Pilot: You mean we did-

Argyle: ~Claps a hand over Pilot's mouth~ YES, THAT. Don't say that, or we get in MORE trouble.

Judgemaster Cid: ~standing up~ Too late! You all have broken another one of the rules! 'No using the Judgemaster as a tennis ball'!

Pilot: What do you mean, 'rules'? I thought tennis was anything goes nowadays!

Judgemaster Cid: My boy, you must not have been in Hell for very long, have you. The outside world is chaotic, with it's no holds barred tennis. Here... It's pretty much the same, except people randomly get penalized for things they could have avoided IF they had hit the select button to view the laws for each match!

Pilot: But I don't have a select-

Judgemaster Cid: SILENCE! That's one yellow card for each of you. ~narrows his eyes on Desperdorado~ And since this is YOUR second yellow card this match... YOU'RE GOING TO JAIL!

Desperdorado: Do I at least get to call my abogado?

Judgemaster Cid: No, there's no court! Straight to prison! ~Desperdorado disappears~ And let that be a lesson to both of you... Don't go against the rules of the Judges! ~jumps on his yellow emu and rides off~

Pilot: The Judges... do you think they're in cahoots with the anonymous King?

Argyle: It's doubtful. Everyones become disjointed under his rule, it's no suprise smaller groups have arisen to try and establish order. Not that I agree with their methods...

Pilot: But at least we got Weekday back! ~lifts her up~ I missed you, baby! Let's make out!

Argyle: Not that I'm DISGUSTED by the thought of you making out with a window, much less a window that's been greased up and left on the ground or anything like that, but now isn't the time to celebrate. Desperdorado's in jail now because of us. After all he's done for us, the least we can do is get him out.

Pilot: Yeah, I guess you're right...

~Later, at the jail~

Argyle: You want WHAT as bail?!

Guard: 200,000 gil. OR, you can wait 2 battles, then come back for him.

Argyle: Well, considering we don't have any gil whatsoever, I guess we're going to have to go do those two battles. C'mon Pilot, let's go pick a fight.

~They leave the jailhouse~

Pilot: But Argyle! Those judges watch every match here! And they expect you to know the rules beforehand! And they expect you to have a BUTTON! We'll just wind up in there if we help Desperdorado this way!

Argyle: I know, Pilot, I know. But we don't have much of a choice, do we? The judges are everywhere.

???: Not EVERYWHERE, my friend...

~Argyle turns around quickly, getting major whiplash. As he recovers, he notes the incredibly tall man garbed in black behind him. I mean, WOW, this guy is tall. Yao Ming? A midget compared to this guy. You'd think Argyle and Pilot would have noticed him when they first left the Jailhouse, but then they were all "Oh boo hoo hoo we have to get our friend out of jail", and- Oh, sorry.~

Argyle: Who are you?

???: A concerned citizen. These judges are breathing down our necks, trying to keep order. Wouldn't it be nice if we could just... get away from them?

Pilot: We aren't running away, if that's what you mean.

???: Oh, anything but. I'm just giving a little advice... You see, there one tennis ball court on the edge out town where the Judge's rule does not lie. Any matches there still would count toward your shiny friend's bail.

Argyle: What's the catch?

???: Oh, no catch. Just a little warning... The people that frequent the court aren't quite so... chivalrous as those faced before.

Argyle: Psh, compared to some of the matches we've gone through on the first page, they're probably saints. Now, where is this court?

???: ~reaches down to Pilot, giving him a map~ Just follow the dotted line. X marks the spot.

Pilot: Hey, how does the map know we're starting from here?

???: Uh, beginners luck?

Pilot: That's nonsensical enough for me. Let's get a move on, Argyle! ~carries Weekday off, followed by Argyle~

???: Yes, get a move on, you two... ~Walks backward into the shadows, his feet making a sound suspiciously like bladed tripod feet against the pavement....~

Author: Golem

~Pilot and Argyle walk through the town. What is happening with Weekday? Why Pilot is carrying her of course. DUH.~

Pilot: Oh hey, look at that, suspicious bladed tripod feet shoes are on sale this week, %1 off if you buy ten sets. That's only... 100,000 gil a set!

~Pilot runs in and gets two sets.~

Pilot: Hey Argyle, I got two sets, one for you.

Argyle: KLSDKLJWELKJDLKSDF you could have paid Desperdorado's bail with that!

Pilot: Hey, we've got to upgrade our shoes sometime, eh? These are D grade, they might not be spectacular but they're better than my current E grade shoes. ~puts the suspicious tripod blade shoes on~

~Before they know it, they're at the suspicious unjudged tennis court!~

Argyle: Ahh, I thought I'd never say it, but it's nice not to have regulations.

Gofer (not gopher) 1: The window... the ping-pong paddles... those are the guys the Director told us about!

Gofer 2: Are you sure it was the Director?

Gofer 1: I... think so. Who else would have suspicious tripod blade sounding feet?

Gofer 2: Hmm... He sounded like he needed some cough syrup or something, though...

Pilot: I AM PICKING FIGHTS.

Argyle: NONONO Pilot have matches with me so that nothing goes--

Gofer 1: I challenge YOOOOOU guys!

Pilot: We accept!

Argyle: No! We decline!

Pilot: We can't do that! We already accepted! It's against the rules to decline now!

Argyle: PILOT. THERE ARE NO RULES HERE.

~The Gofers serve hot coffee at Pilot and Argyle.~

Pilot: NO! Argyle--get out of here while you can! I'll fend them off!

Argyle: 1) I thought I was the valiant one? Or maybe we are both valiant? 2) I said I'd follow you to Hell and back, Challenger! Don't make me a liar! 3) Just say "WE DID IT!"

Pilot: WE DID--wait, why?

Argyle: The story will give us a new challenge then!

Pilot: No, that's a stupid reason. I won't say it!

Argyle: ...WE DID IT!

~They dodge hot coffee some more~

Argyle: Nope, only works when you do it.

Weekday: I really don't have much of a purpose in this post... other than lookin' good.

Gofer 1: I almost forgot! We're probably saints!

Author: Fred

Probably(50% chance)Saint Gopher1: Now I can retire! That's the first thing. Unfortunately, First thing's third, we gotta kill these guys, do the dishes to pay off that chinese dinner debt, and then we can retire!

Probably Saint Gopher2: That's right, We're either moving to a better Hell, or Canada!

Argyle: Yue Fee-ind! Prepare to meet thy maker! (Pulls out slightly-upgraded ping pong paddles with runes of ULTIMATE DESTRUCTIVE POWER embedded in them)

Pilot: I feel so much smaller, now.

Probably Saint Gopher1: It will do you no good! You cannot beat my shovel racket!

Pilot: Well... that goes with the theme, I guess.

Probably Saint Gopher2: OR MY AXE I mean backhoe racket!

(Probably Saint Gopher2 is driving a huge truck, which breaks the concrete and lobs it at Argyle)

PSG1: Let's see how you like that!

Argyle: When we get out of this remind me to throttle you, as my memory is commonly shaky after being hit with huge rocks and/or dying

Pilot: Relax, we're already in hell. Well, we're on the edge, so we might as well be in purgatory. Oh, we've talked enough that you should probably be crushed by now.

(Argyle had moved, and the concrete bounced twice on the ground)

PSG2: You didn't hit it back, JERK! Our point!

Pilot: I just realised splitting up this into two one-on-one matches would be much easier, and only one of us would have died. Oh well! It's better to have lost than- (Argyle tosses the rock at Pilot, who keels over. Argyle tosses the rock back over the net, and it suspicious doesn't break in a suspicious manner)

Argyle: I am getting suspicious. They are "probably" saints.

Pilot: That's just the homosexuality talking.

Argyle: what

Pilot: Nothing, just be more ready this time, you've really let us down in starting this, so help me finish it!

Author: Yoshiyami

Meanwhile in Mr. Anonymous’s hidden base in Memphis…

~Mr. Anonymous sits in front of his RANDOM MEASUREMENT TELEVISON HAHAHA watching Mexican Friends when his butler approaches him from behind and violently rapes him just kidding.~

Butler: Excuse me, Mr. Anonymous. The EVIL Tennis King would like to see you.

Mr. Anonymous: Sure.

Butler: I am the EVIL Tennis King.

Mr. Anonymous: Hello.

EVIL Tennis King: I am the EVIL Tennis King.

Mr. Anonymous: Shut up, you’re going to make me cry.

WAIT I FORGOT TO POST A JOKE CONCERNING HOW THE EVIL IN EVIL TENNIS KING’S NAME IS IN ALL CAPS THAT WOULD’VE BEEN SO FUNNY

Author: Tylar

~To completely mess up anybody just now joining us, even though they probably know how to use a scroll bar...~

T.V. Zombie: Channel...CHANGE....

T.V.: Now back to "The Great Depression," brought to you by Zoloft.

Little boy: Ah am SHO DEPWESSED.

T.V. Zombie: Ughhhh...

~now back to something or another~

Argyle: Hey, Pilot. If Us and We are sitting on a log, and Us gets pushed off by one of them. And it's not Us. Who did it?

Pilot: WE DID IT!

Argyle: Thanks.

Pilot: For what? I just-HEY, WAIT A MINUTE! That wasn't Pepsi! That was PEPSI TWIST!

Probable Saint Gofers: And we aren't probable saints! We're...~unzips skin~ PEOPLE WITHOUT EPIDERMAL LAYERS! ~instant death from infection~

Pilot: Well, that was easy.

Argyle: Hm... That's strange. There should be another challenger showing up. You DID say "We di-~giant slushy dispenser falls on top of the corpses of the probable saints~

Author: Fred

Argyle: Shit, not here!

Pilot: Yes here! Where are we?

Giant Slushy Dispenser: I RETURN, MORTAL

Argyle: This guy was my third year toothpaste-squeezing luge course instructor! Augh, I can't stand his SIDEBURNS

GSD: SO, WE MEET ONCE MORE. YOU KNOW YOU WERE THE MOST DARLING THING BACK THEN.. BUT NOW YOU ARE NOT.

Argyle: Thanks a lot. I want to go sit in the sad corner n-

GSD: SILENCE. NONE BUT I CAN ALLOW SITTING IN THE THE SAD CORNER. I HAVE RETURNED... FOR YOUR SOLE. I MEAN SOUL. CAN WE EDIT THAT OUT IN THE FINAL VERSION?

Weekend: sure, whatev.

GSD: GOOD. THIS IS A DIFFICULT WAY TO TALK BECAUSE IT'S HARD TO EMPHASIZE ANYTHING.

Pilot: Why don't you use brackets to emphasize or /emphasize?

GSD: THAT IS THE DUMBEST THING I'VE EVER HEARD I SWARE. THAT'S WORSE THAN THAT TIME I WAS TOTALLY AT WALLY WORLD AND SOMEONE TOLD ME THERE WAS SWIMMING.

Pilot: So not dumb at all.

GSD: YEAH I GUESS (Suddenly, a body appears beside pilot, flung through the air)

Anonymous Guy: I totally missed!

Argyle: So... um, you want my soul? I don't remember this deal.

Pilot: ANONYMOUS GUY?! MY MAIN ENEMY AND RIVAL?!?2 WHY ARE YOU HERE

GSD: MAN YOU ARE TOTALLY STEALING MY VOICE JERK

Anonymous: Who are you people?

GSD: I AM TELLING WAIT RIGHT... OKAY NEVERMIND I'M RATHER IMMOBILE.

Anonymous: Well, enemies of EVIL Tennis King, prepare to be -

(Argyle wedgies Anonymous while Pilot sticks his racket down his throat and then up again repeatedly. they throw him over the court fence INTO THE ABYSS BELOW)

Pilot: I don't remember that being there.

Argyle: Relax, he'll come back late in the story after self-teaching himself tennis and Tetnis and Tetris and go all Kung-fu on us.

GSD: GUYS I AM STILL HERE

Pilot: Ohhh, ALLL RIGHT but it's two on one.

GSD: HEY SCREW YOU GUYS I'M DISCONNECTING

Argyle: You're stuck playing against us.

GSD: AHAHEHARE IWFJFEF NOW I HAVE YOU TRAPPED!

(A huge cage traps the court, while spikes come in from both sides.)

GSD: THOSE SPIKES WILL CLOSE IN ON US, EVENTUALLY KILLING YOU TWO AND ME AND THERE'S NO BUTS ABOUT IT DUE TO NO JUDGES

Pilot: worth it.

GSD: NOW FACE THE WRATH OF MY NEW FLAVOUR: LIQUIFIED TENNIS BALL BLASTS WITH A HINT OF SHNAPPS

Author: AaronGuy

~The GSD begins firing Peach Schnapps Slushie Balls from it's dual dispensers at Pilot and Argyle, as the spikes begin to move in. Pilot and Argyle attempt to strike the balls back, but to no avail~

Argyle: ~Splattered by a bursting Slushie Ball~ These things are hardly solid! They just splash off of my paddles!

Pilot: And they just go through the net of my Racket! And I'm not old enough to drink alcohol yet! THIS IS HORRIBLE!

Argyle: We gotta think of something, though. We can't hit what he's shooting at us...

Pilot: So we need to find something to strike back with!

Argyle: Right! ~looks around at the cage~ Ugh... but what? We're trapped like rats!

Rat: Says you, buddy. C'mon, everyone!

Rats: ~crawl between the bars of the cage to FREEDOM only to fall off a nearby cliff into the abyss~

Argyle: Okay, well, we're trapped.

Pilot: C'mon, Argyle! We can do it (if we really try)!

Weekday: ~is sitting inside the large dump truck the Gofers were using, which just happens to be inside the rapidly shrinking cage~

Pilot: WEEKDAY! ~runs away from the onslaught of slushballs toward the truck~

Argyle: ~groans~ ~follows~

Pilot: ~jumps into the drivers seat~ Weekday? How'd you get up here? ...Say, why don't we just use this big truck and ram the GSD?

Argyle: ~checks~ No dice. ~checks elsewhere~ And no keys either. My guess is one of the Gofers took the keys, and since they're both flattened under the slushie launcher, I don't think we'll be getting them. ~Looks in the back of the truck~ Though I don't think we'll be needing it... I have an idea.

Pilot: Huh? ~looks back as well~

~In the back of the truck are hundreds of mugs of scalding coffee, neatly stacked and ready to serve.~

Pilot: THEY HAVE ALL THESE THINGS PRE-POURED?

Argyle: You gotta be fast when you're a gofer. Anyways, let me test my theory... ~grabs one of the cups and strikes it at the GSD with his racket~

~The cup flys pretty well, but it hits one of the slushballs on it's way over. However, the 172 degree coffee and almost as hot coffee mug slice through the cold treat like a hot thing through a not so hot thing and smacks against the side of the GSD~

GSD: HEY, YOU'RE GOING TO STAIN ME! AND I HATE COFFEE! IT STUNTS YOUR GROWTH!

Pilot: ~blinks~ ...Well, whatever works.

~Jumping in the back of the dump truck, the two Tennis Goers who are not at all like Party Goers because first of all they look for Tennis not Parties and second of all they actually succed in their Tennis going and don't get trapped in Virtual Reality or something ridiculous like that at least not right now anyway start hitting the mugs of coffee at the Slushie Dispenser. Though the GSD complains alot, it doesn't seem to be as effective as Argyle expected~

GSD: Oh great, now I'm going to smell like decaf FOREVER. Thanks alot, you JERKS. ~fires more slushie balls~

Pilot: This isn't working! We need a new plan of attack!

Argyle: Hmmmm... I think I've got one. But we're going to have to leave the truck, so grab as many mugs as you can carry.

~It turns out neither of them can carry any mugs since they are so hot, but Weekday makes a good makeshift table, so they pile lots of mugs onto her flat surface and carry her out of the safety of the truck bed~

Argyle: We'll need to aim, so we have to get close!

~ducking and dodging the oncoming slushie balls, the three get close enough that they can get a clear view of the two dispensers that are firing at them~

Argyle: There! We have to clog up the dispensers (if we really try)!

~Argyle and Pilot start striking mugs of coffee at one of the dispensers. Eventually, a thick clump of broken coffee mugs and frozen slushie stops up the dispenser, which shudders violently~

GSD: Noooooooooooo! That was my GOOD dispenser!

~Argyle and Pilot start striking mugs to fill up the second, which is spewing out slushies even faster to make up for the stuck first dispenser. After a while, both dispensers stop shooting slushballs. The whole machine shakes violently~

GSD: MY EMPEROR.... I'VE FAIIIIIIIIIILED YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU;sdj;lfj;df ~blows it's top, literally, spraying Peach Schnapps everywhere~

Pilot: Mission complete!

Slippy: You did it, Pilot!

Pilot: WHOA! Who are you!

Peppy: You're becoming more like your father every day!

Pilot: Who are you, and how do you know my father?

Falco: I still hate you.

Pilot: I HAVE NO IDEA WHO ANY OF YOU ARE! AND FURTHERMORE-

~The three cameos get crushed by a falling chunk of metal from the GSD~

Pilot: ...Nevermind.

Argyle: Uh, Pilot.. We've still got a problem.

Walls: ~still closing in on the three of them~

Pilot: NO! After all that, we're still going to die! ~sniffle~ Well Weekday, it's now or never, I guess... ~starts to take off his shirt~

Argyle: WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?!

Pilot: Oh. Uh, Argyle, I know we're about to die and all, but would you mind giving us a little privacy?

Argyle: NO, I will NOT! And sadly I will NOT be getting any terrible mental pictures out of my head anytime soon either! The point is, we'll find a way out of here, we just need to think!

Pilot: ~fixes his shirt~ Fine, fine... Well, maybe we could just a dig a hole.

Argyle: Well, we don't have anything to dig with. Unless there was something in the truck that we forgot.

Pilot: Or we could use your paddles.

Argyle: Hey! My paddles are NOT for digging in the dirt! I don't see you volunteering your racket!

Pilot: It's made of gold! Yours are made of wood!

Argyle: Actually, they're made of...

~as the two argue, they don't notice the nearby wall closing in on the dead GSD. The machine's massive bulk keeps the wall from moving in closer, straining against it, until eventually the wall breaks in half. Pilot and Argyle look up, seeing the pathway to safety~

Pilot: Oh. Nevermind.

Argyle: Finally, a lucky break. ~runs outside the cage, followed by Pilot carrying Weekday~

Pilot: Well, that was at LEAST two battles. Let's go free Desperdorado!

~they run off. A few minutes later, a large cloaked figure whose feet make sounds like bladed tripod feet sneaks onto the scene~

???: Heh heh heh... my Gofers should be done flattening those two do-gooders by now. I'll just peek over this hill and- ~sees the cage, destroyed GSD, and the truck, and no destroyed Pilot or Argyle~ ...god dammit.

Author: Golem

~Protagonists Pilot Light, Weekday, Argyle, Desperdorado (now escaped from jail by a toothpick), Baron von Robo II, TennisMaster, Protagonist #7, A Character, Argyle's Dog, Argyle's Cat, Outrobulus (at the end) Sergeant Notacharacter, the Latin language, AaronGoo, Trains, Missy Elliot and who knows what else then went to a Tournament, due to stolen tenniscake/plot device, which Weekday is now without. The whole thing was a bunch of horrible coincidences and horrible secret plans and conspiracies against the cabbage meat market and whatnot, and then they faced off against Dr. Pepper, who owned that tournament and instigated the adventure. Needless to say he died.

However, his spirit in a cybernetic program was released and put Candyland under martial law. That's not all that important. Also, the shoe store owner was revealed to be putting back together soldiers from the Rosanne sitcom and made a new incredible fighter Lava (sp?)(i.e. the guy they beat in the first few posts) and he (or was it a she?) died or is still there or SOMETHING. I dunno. Then they went to Tokyo and defused a situation between The Fake EVIL Tennis King Clone and Team Badmitton Omega, therefore avenging the events of their destroying the Western civilization. Civilizations 3. They also sent constant nuisances Sir Boot, Mercury Argumentalist, Uncle Pennybags (that guy from Monopoly), and Virginia Woolf packing into space, towards the Gemini Star, looking for the real EVIL Tennis KIng and the NEW Super Mario Brothers.

And the OGers beat up an evil spirit named Janitor Joe that rules over some weird-ass dark dimension or something and was wounded and... Someone else can explain it. Janitor Joe took the body of the incredible Clown-footed Mijawk, but was pretty badly owned. Because there were like 12 Tennisers fighting at once. And these weird and powerful minons of Author 1 with Ponchos, Cowboy hats, and black trenchcoats kept showing up, at the end with Captain Light, and the OGers beat up the black trenchcoats. Big whoop.

We join them now.~

Pilot: Hey look, a switch!

Argyle: Well,... I suppose we should press it.

~They press it. Pilot, Weekday, and Argyle are sent back to a few feet from the cage and destroyed GSD. Desperdorado is sent back to jail. Everyone else lands somewhere, we don't know where.~

Pilot: We dit id! Alright then, it's bail time!

~They rush to the jail.~

Desperdorado: Here's the bail it never fails, it makes me wanna wag my tail, when it comes I wanna wail, BAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIILLLLLLLLLLLLL

~They free Desperdorado. However, in the process, they spot...~

Pilot: My hero, Alan Greenspan!

~Pilot rushes up to a cell containing Alan Greenspan.~

Pilot: I've always wanted to be just like you when I grew up, sir!

Alan Greenspan: Why... why that's touching.

Pilot: Jailman! What's the bail on Greenspan?

Jailman: ~checks clipboard~ Some earwax.

~Pilot flings Jailman some earwax, and Jailman points to the cell and it unlocks. Pilot, Argyle, Desperdorado, and Alan Greenspan run out of the jail together.~

Pilot: Alright, what now?

Argyle: Just keep heading north 'till we hit Memphis.

Greenspan: I suggest a radical new economical approach to your quest.

Pilot: Oh?

Argyle: This is a QUEST not a tax fo--

Pilot: Shh, listen!

Greenspan: The demand for me hitting you all in the back of the head with my frying pan racket has gone through the roof, but supply is dwindling. I suggest you increase your quantity of getting hit in the back of the head by my frying pan racket.

Pilot: LET'S GO FOR IT!

~Alan Greenspan knocks everyone out with his frying pan racket. Director rushes onto the scene.~

Director: But--but--I'm the villain!

Alan Greenspan: Yeah, yeah, tell that to EVIL Tennis King.

Director: Wait, do you work for him?

Alan Greenspan: I forgot.

Author: Fred

(Alan Greenspan laughs maniacally, as from under him a huge temple erects itself - the temple of Irrationalities in Exuberance. It takes off into the air, as the unconcious heroes slide off it into a huge ditch, and takes into the air. Alan himself Sits upon a throne, which is WONKAVATED into the temple itself. From the floating ziggurat, exactly sixty-seven legs extract themselves and plant upon the ground OMG SIDEQUEST (Quest 67). It runs towards Hell, knocking over buildings and causing generic chaos as a bunch of rules lawyers attempt to give the rampaging padoga small slips of paper but get crushed easily)

Pilot: That sure is a lot of Narration. Anyone else come to in like two seconds?

Director: I'm afraid... I'm afraid Alan needs me to take you out, Light.

Light: Go bother the dark instead.

Director: Oh yeah, we're not on a first name basis. Okay, Alan needs me to take you out, Pilot.

Pilot: YOU TRAITOR

Director: actually if anyone Alan is the traitor, just no one was expected to bail him since he was sealed in that jail for all eternity I was never affiliated with you and always him. I just... never had any earwax.

Pilot: If I had the chance to live another time I would do it again since I did it this time and would be in the same situations and mindset anyways.

Author: Golem

LAST TIME ON PIBB AND TENNIS: Director: Oh yeah, we're not on a first name basis. Okay, Alan needs me to take you out, Pilot.

Pilot: YOU TRAITOR

Director: actually if anyone Alan is the traitor, just no one was expected to bail him since he was sealed in that jail for all eternity I was never affiliated with you and always him. I just... never had any earwax.

NOW TO CONTINUE THE TALE

Dark: Let's run away from this danger!

Argyle: You're not exactly a character.

Dark: Look, I have the blueprints for the ziggurat pagoda thing! ~holds up blueprints~

Argyle: Woah, let me see--

Pilot: Woah! You're not a character!

~An Eraser Tool from Paint comes up to Dark and erases him. Pilot breathes fire onto the plans and they incinerate instantly.

Meanwhile, in a parallel universe...~

Obviously easy solution to the current problem: I am presented!

Aviator Blithe: I am destroying the obviously easy solution to the current problem! And that, dear sirs, is humor.

Parallelogram: YOU WILL BOW DOWN BEFORE THE MASTER OF PARALLEL UNIVERSITY??? Also: puns!

~Back to the real story...~

Pilot: Phew. Now to get a lot of revenge on Alan Greenspan for ! ~holds up a bottle of Heinz Revenge~

~Argyle grabs the Lawyers and throws them at Desperdorado.~

Argyle: Hold on to those, we'll need them later. Now, to get a lot of revenge on Alan Greenspan!

Pilot: Wait! Let's see what happens if we do nothing.

~The pagoda knocks over more buildings.~

Pilot: Hmmm... that wasn't quite what I was expecting to happen. Let's wait a bit longer.

~The pagoda knocks over more buildings.~

Desperdorado: What am I, your caddy?

Argyle: FORE!

~Argyle swings a lawyer into Pilot, causing Pilot to fly towards the pagoda, with Weekday in hand.

Pilot predictably falls short.~

Pilot: MaAAAAN!

~THAT NIGHT ON PILOT'S BLOG:~

Pilot: Mood: hospitalized so anyway when you hit a ground really fast its not good for feeling

~BUT ENOUGH OF THAT!~

Author: Tylar

The following post is based on true events. Names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Pilut: Is that really necessary? We're fictional characters already.

Yes.

Arguile: That's retarded. WHERE'S MY LITTLE CANDY HEARTS WITH THE LOVEY DOVEY SAYINGS?

Weakday: ...

Pilut: Wow. You ate all of those? That reminds me. HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY, HON! ~pulls a pony out from behind his back. The pony was noticable the entire time, but he thought he was hiding it.~ It's a beaver. OF WUUUUUUV!

Arguile: It's become quite obvious that this author isn't even trying. Can we get to the story now? And can we have our names back?

~sigh~ FINE. (I wish I had someone special...)

Pilot: HEY! Look at that conveniently placed phone jack in the middle of nowhere! I should check my email!

Argyle: Wha? Fine, whatever.

Pilot: ~hooks his lappy up and checks his Google homepage~ Hey, my relatives that I don't even know are having a WEDDING ANNIVERSARY! We should go.

Argyle: Where do they live?

Pilot: Florida.

Argyle: Why don't we go to Memphis first? It would be a lot easier. In fact, I can actually see the city limit sign. We can't be far.

Pilot: No. We need to go to Florida.

~transition..........ZOR!!!!1Q~

Pilot: Well, here we are. My relatives' family owned campsite.

Argyle: How'd we get here so fast?

Pilot: The magic of transitions. ~They walk up to a sign that says "Mein Kamp"~ My relatives are German. Fun fact.

Argyle: O....Kay?

~two relatives open the cabin door and wave for the crew to come in~

Pilot ~running towards them with open arms~: Relative one! Relative two! SO GLAD TO SEE YOU!

Relative one: I told you, we have names. I'm Boyd, remember?

Relative two: And I'm Glenda. Well, what are you waiting for? Come on in!

~everyone walks inside~

Argyle: Weird...Bye now, we usually have a tennis oppone-~CRASH!~

CupiDAN: We are here to challenge you!

ValenTONY: YES WE ARE.

Pilot: Aw. I wanted tea.

ValenTONY: AGH! Tea is my worst enemy! Even the mention of it causes me to die an untimely death!....Hm. That's wei~ASPLODES~

CupiDAN: YOU KILLED MY SON! ARGH! ~smacks a tennis ball at Weekday~

Pilot: ~jumps in front of the ball just in time~ That was close.

CupiDAN: NO! I put all my heart into that and I STILL failed! ~dies from lack of the vital organ he just mentioned~

After recieving the news of her son and husband dying, Gracie became extremely depressed. This was not good for her job, because she happened to be one of those creepily happy Wal*Mart greeters. She was put in the Wal*Mart firing line, but due to Wal*Mart's need of low prices, all they could afford was Emeril Lagase.

Emeril: BAM BAM BAM!

Gracie died instantly. Gracie's only other child, Brenda, went on to be a famous lawyer who brought about world peace and an infinite supply of meat byproducts-ER, I MEAN SHE DIED A WEEK LATER FROM AIDS.

~Back to the main characters~

Pilot ~standing in a pool of blood with random bodily fluids covering him. His relatives are in comas sure to last several years. They will probably awake vegetables.~: THIS WAS THE BEST VALENTINES DAY EVER!

Argyle: So...Can we transition to Memphis now?

Pilot: NOPE!

Author: Fred

Argyle: Wow, our names are back to normal.

Pilot: Yeah, the case was solved. By Judge Judy.

Argyle: How are we getting back to Memphis and fighting the hover temple now? Where even are we, now?

Pilot: Listen, the anti-gravity pantheon can wait for disneyworld.

(Meanwhile, far above FLORIDA or wherever those capitalist pig-dogs are, the soaring shrine cannot wait for Disneyworld. I swear it is getting tired of it.)

Alan Greenspan: Weren't we headed towards hell? HELLZ NAW?

Sailor Dark: There was... a wrong turn.

Alan Greenspan: WHAT IS THIS OR WAS THIS EW I mean how'd you get in here

Dark: Rap music.

Alan Greenspan: What's that gun you're holding at me and aiming and preparing to pull the trigger so that you can take over this gliding synagogue? Nevermind, I answered my own- hey!

Dark: Feh (tosses back huge unecessary clump of hair in his eyes, only for it to swing down in front again). Missed.

Alan Greenspan: I'll have you know that you're in for a big spanking young mister.

(Dark give him a glare that would force a woman's head off, and then contort the rest of her body into an artistic Tribute to grapes and spiders, but Alan Greenspan is a man so it pretty much does nothing)

Dark: I'll be good I swares I won't do it again

Alan Greenspan: Aw c'mon please

Dark: no

Alan Greenspan: I'll do you laundry every day

Dark: I said know.

Alan Greenspan: THE MORE YOU DID! SEND OUT HUGE TENNIS-PLAYING RELIGION ROBOTS FROM THE ATMOSPHERE-RIDING TABERNACLE!

Dark: what

(At Florida)

Argyle: What's that huge shadow?

Pilot: You're the Pilot Light, you tell me.

Argyle: Damn it, you're right. To the popsicle stand/jewish rocket tennis field launch station!

Pilot: WE CERTAINLY HAVE ONE

Author: Golem

Desperdorado: Follow me to my popsicle stand/joo-ish rocket tennis field launch station conveniently located in sunny Florida! (Guests of the show stay at the scenic Pibb Resort!)

~One screen wipe later...~

Desperdoradorado: Here we are! Inside the popsicle stand/joo-ish rocket tennis field launch station! That is a long name for a place!

~Pilot stares at a pizza on the wall that's shaped like a tennis racket.~

Pilot: What's that?

Desperdorado: That's the fanpizza one guy sent in after reading Pibb and Tennis. Speaking of fans, can you smell the fancologne I have on right now?

Director: Holy Cow, how did we afford this?! I mean, really, putting a tennis field on a rocket?! Not to mention that flying... structure of worship that the enemies are going around in!

Holy Cow: You will find your answers... on the path of the ascetic. I mean shoelace. Wait, which one did I say first?

Director: This is why I hate my religion.

Argyle: Director, it's sweeps month. Everyone knows that shows try to get the most attention during November and February, which are sweeps months. If you want attention, you spend lots of money.

Director: I don't think sweeps even applies to OGs!!

Argyle: Well... I think THAT explains a lot.

~So anyway, the tennis field rockets into the sky, ready to meet the shrine which defies gravity. Listen, I couldn't come up with a new word for temple.

Elsewhere...~

Announcer: Next up on the scating on ice without ice skates competition is zero-time Olympic gold metalist, EVIL Tennis King!

EVIL Tennis King: Oops! Well, I hope no one who hates me hears that I'm in the Winter Olympics and tries to invade my castle while I'm gone.