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(Sweet Deals: Expanding article with sweet deals in the singular. Could use some help in the chronology department, though.)
(Is it all right if I clear out some of the clutter? Only the page drafts remain.)
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[<math>http://www.example.com link title</math>]<blockquote class="lappy email">
 
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Dear Strong the Bad,<br />
 
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You are so awesome,<br />
 
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but you would be awesome when your on the television channel<br />
 
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"camera"<br />
 
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Woefully yours,<br />
 
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Kristian WithaK
 
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</blockquote>
 
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==See Also==
 
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*[[Pie]]
 
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*[[Pi]]
 
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*[[charts|Pie charts]]
 
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*[[Pie Factory]]
 
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*[[3 Times Halloween Funjob Costumes|Magnum, P.I.]]
 
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*[[Eustice Pietimer]]
 
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*[[The Old Pietimer Place]]
 
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*[[Mr. Pitters]]
 
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*[[Piemonade]]
 
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*[[Pile]]
 
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*[[Pizza]]
 
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*[[The moon]]
 
=Axes=
=Axes=
[[Image:A man.PNG|right|150px|thumb|Trogdor was a man.]]
[[Image:A man.PNG|right|150px|thumb|Trogdor was a man.]]
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*[[Big Knives]]
*[[Big Knives]]
*[[Pickaxe]]
*[[Pickaxe]]
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*[[Axe 2: t.. The axEs,, they, got.. Got axed? I mean... Axe 2'd?]]
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<nowiki>[[Category:Items]][[Category:Weapons]]</nowiki>
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=Candles=
=Candles=
[[File:sbemail63.PNG|150px|right|thumb|I think that's my best one. You know. Keeps-a me warm at night!]]
[[File:sbemail63.PNG|150px|right|thumb|I think that's my best one. You know. Keeps-a me warm at night!]]
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==See Also==
==See Also==
*[[BMW Lighter]]
*[[BMW Lighter]]
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<nowiki>[[Category:Items]]</nowiki>
=Sweet Deals=
=Sweet Deals=
 +
{{about|word running gag}} {{for|cereal|Breakfast Cereals from Specially Marked}}
[[Image:Sweet deals.PNG|thumb|150px|A free chainsaw car? Sweet Deals!]]
[[Image:Sweet deals.PNG|thumb|150px|A free chainsaw car? Sweet Deals!]]
'''Sweet Deals''' are a word running gag used to express that something is excellent.
'''Sweet Deals''' are a word running gag used to express that something is excellent.
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*[[Final Hours Playthrough]] &mdash; Strong Bad says "Sweet deals!" when he believes that they are going to win the game.
*[[Final Hours Playthrough]] &mdash; Strong Bad says "Sweet deals!" when he believes that they are going to win the game.
*[[ Trogdor! LIVE with the Brothers Chaps!]] &mdash; Strong Bad says "Sweet deals!" when he is told that the entire Internet is watching him. He also says that the power offered by [[Ye Flask]] of [[Dennis]] (making burninated peasants go into Trogdor's health instead of the Void) is a sweet deal. Strong Bad announces the beginning of his first turn with an exclamation of "sweet deals".
*[[ Trogdor! LIVE with the Brothers Chaps!]] &mdash; Strong Bad says "Sweet deals!" when he is told that the entire Internet is watching him. He also says that the power offered by [[Ye Flask]] of [[Dennis]] (making burninated peasants go into Trogdor's health instead of the Void) is a sweet deal. Strong Bad announces the beginning of his first turn with an exclamation of "sweet deals".
-
 
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<nowiki>[[Category:Word Running Gags]]</nowiki>
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=Thy Dungeonman Instruction Manual=
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-
On May 14, 2020, [[Matt Chapman]] read an excerpt from the 400-page '''instruction manual of [[Thy Dungeonman]]''' for the livestreamed second episode of the "Worst First Chapter" [[YouTube]] series, hosted by Paul and Storm of [[DaVinci's Notebook]]. This manual allegedly consists of 395 pages of lore, and 5 pages of PC instructions, and was written by [[Lem Sportsinterviews]].
+
-
 
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==Chapter 1==
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<blockquote>
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-
"Wake yourself, boy!" rasped the old codger, sloshing a mug of cool, refreshing oatmeal square in the young man's face.
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-
{{clear}}
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-
Panicked, Collagen jolted up quickly from his bedroll of pulled pigeon, whole oats oozing from the patchy beard on his tender face of five and five and five years.
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-
 
+
-
"I love wagons!" he cried deliriously, wiping sleep out of, and oatmeal into, his bleary eyes. The room was dark. A silver sheen on the stone walls told Collagen that the moon was still up in the autumn sky outside, and a dull clanking announced that the barmess downstairs was gathering up the stoneware, about to close the plodding gentry for the night.
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-
 
+
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"It must be around two full ticks past night's middle!" he thought to himself, wondering what could be so important that it couldn't wait until morning's griddle. "What is it, uncle?"
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-
 
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The old man didn't respond and just sat blinking, as if each closing of his gray eyes added a protective layer between himself and the life-altering news he knew he had to impart on this oat-slick boy.
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-
 
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"Uncle?"
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-
 
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"A dungeon's been murdered."
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-
 
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Collagen sucked in breath, and a couple of oats actually, causing himself to choke. "A dungeon? But how?" he sputtered.
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-
 
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"Of course ye'd ask that. The youth... always questioning how a dank room what's made for the holding and torture of prisoners could ever be alive in the first place, so as to be eligible for the act of murderin'! You lot with your trendy jangled jester hats and your&mdash;"
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-
 
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"Uncle Prevacid!" barked Collagen, sounding suddenly one and two years older. "I believe you!" the boy said softly, and laid a hand on his uncle's, immediately thinking better of it after his fingers touched something warm and jelly-like. He shifted his hand to one of Prevacid's knees&mdash; no, no, that was worse. He withdrew his hand altogether. "Which dungeon?"
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-
 
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"The Roost of Remington, poor devil. And it was due for an adventure next feast-harvest! Mighta been ''your'' first dungeon if&mdash;" Collagen's uncle stopped short.
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-
 
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"''My'' first dungeon?" the boy stiffened. "But I'm just the son of a son of a salvemonger! What's a murdered dungeon &mdash; or any dungeon for that matter got to do with me?"
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-
 
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Prevacid attempted to soften, but it clearly hurt, so he went back to ornery and sighed, "'Tisn't your father ''or'' your grandfather that's important!" The old man leaned closer, a streak of moonlight cutting jagged across his jagged face, effectively cancelling out any jaggedness. "Your mother was a dungeonwoman."
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-
 
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If Collagen had been holding the mug of oatmeal, he would've dropped it to the floor and it would've shattered in slow motion to great dramatic effect. Since he was only holding the hem of his flea-ridden burlap blanket, he dropped that instead and it just kinda went, "phfff" into his lap, although this action had a devastating effect on the fleas.
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-
 
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"But father always said me marm was a bookstacker! Plain and dimpled, with a sallow face and a disposition like an unremarkable tree. He said such lovely things about her."
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-
 
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"It was all on her orders! She didn't want the dungeon life for you! Too much danger and not enough Vitamin D! So she made your dad promise that when he made verbal her memory, it would sound like she was pleasant enough. A loving marm and a right perpendicular bookstacker, but fierce plain, so as not to merit any further investigations into her past."
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-
 
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-
Collagen reeled, his gaze wandering about the room trying to find an anchor on which to hang this new reality, although a coat hook would probably have been more appropriate. Suddenly, a memory jumped from the dusty underbed toy box of his mind and into the fore. The paint was scratched off and its batteries had that dusty green corrosion stuff on them, but he recalled it with full clarity.
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-
 
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"''That's'' why someone wrote 'Collagen's marm was a dungeonlady' on the wall of the public privy that one time! I always thought it was just old Pendace from salve school rubbin' the beef on me!"
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-
 
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"'Tis no beef rub, boy, 'tis the goat's truth!" His uncle paused. "Also, stay away from the public privy. I hear Lek the Creepo's been sleepin' in there nights."
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-
 
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A contradiction suddenly occured to Collagen. "But if me marm asked me da to hide her dungeon history, why're you tellin' me now?"
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-
 
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"Because she gave special orders to ol' Prevacid," said the old man, a proud glimmer or possibly just festering cateract in his eye. "Back when you were just a wee budgie, 'fore she left on any dungeon adventure, your marm would take me aside &mdash; rougly, mind you &mdash; had a grip like a pork viper, that one," he remembered, rubbing his shoulder, "And she'd say, 'Remember, Cid, if I don't ever return and there comes a day when you get word o' dungeons being murdered, it's time to tell the boy the truth!'"
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-
 
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"I'm a dungeonman?" asked Collagen hopefully.
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-
 
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"Ho ho!" laughed Prevacid, "Don't go diaperin' yourself just yet, your royal highness." The sarcasm made Collagen blush stupidly. "At best you're a dungeon''lad'', I s'pose. And by birthright only. No, ye've got quite a road to travel yet if you're ever to be a proper dungeonman."
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-
 
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Collagen's shoulders sagged. He felt foolish. Just because he found out his mother was a dungeonwoman didn't mean he would all of a sudden be amazing at dungeon adventures, and breeze through thy dungeonschool thanks to his smarter friends, and unnaturally excel at the dungeonsports despite no experience with them, and generally be at the center of every world-endangering dungeon conspiracy. That would be stupid and make him a very blank and uninteresting hero in the end, more defined by those around him, with his best traits feeling entirely unearned. That would work okay for his first couple of stories maybe, with the young children who read them inserting themselves into the blank canvas of Collagen's character, but as the stories went on, readers would disconnect, finding Collagen's colorful friends and enemies more interesting, relatable, and cosplayable. He was just Collagen Salvemonger the Third, a lad of five and five and five years who secretly loved wagons, and still kinda believed in the tooth rot fairy.
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-
 
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"Now stop your potterin', boy," said Prevacid, sensing the boy's self-consiousness. He tried to put a warmth in his tone, which mostly sounded like a sinus infection, and continued, "Inexperienced ye may be, but your role is of great input nonetheless! It's on ''you'' to find out who murdered that dungeon, and put a stop to it lest we lose anymore!"
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-
 
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"You mean I don't have a choice? What if I want to keep mongering salves? Dongering ointments? Hongering balms?" Collagen pented desperately.
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-
 
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"Ye ''do'' have a choice, ya dolt boulder!" spat Prevacid impatiently, swatting his nephew with his flat, dillow-fur cap. "Why'd you think I'm waking you up in night's middle? So if you want to run off and disappear into the har hills before the village awakes, ye have the chance! What, did you think I'd tell ya, 'This is your destiny and you have to follow it'? I know how those stories go! They're long! And fulla dangers! And pages and pages of really boring songs meant to add to the mythology and all that! I'd not force that on you, boy! Not unless you wanted it!"
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-
 
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"Thank you, uncle," Collagen said softly.
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-
 
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His uncle motioned to the floor where two pouchels lay like obedient pets. "I've packed two pouchels for ye. One has all you need to flee to the har hills and start a new life with a new identity as a travelling goat-pretender. T'other has all the tips, tricks, and cheat codes your mom left ya, to take up the mantle of thy dungeonman! The choice is yours." Prevacid stood from where he uncomfortably squatted at the foot of the bedroll, picking off puffs of pulled pigeon from his patched pants, and left the room. "I'll be downstairs in the plodding gentry when you've made up your mind," he called back from the hallway.
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-
 
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Collagen stared long at the pouchels, seeing his various potential futures stream out of them like fumes in the moonlight, before realizing they were actually real fumes from the grody old cheese that his uncle had packed in each.
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-
 
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-
End of chapter 1.
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</blockquote>
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-
 
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==Fun Facts==
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*[[wikipedia:Collagen|Collagen]] is a type of muscle fiber.
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*[[wikipedia:Lansoprazole|Prevacid]] is a medication which reduces stomach acid.
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-
*This excerpt features [[oatmeal]], [[the moon]], [[ointment]],  [[goats]], and [[cheese]].
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-
 
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==External Links==
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-
*[[youtube:Eac-YjikYS8|watch "Worst First Chapter - Episode 2"]] on [[YouTube]] (introduction begins at 41:06, story begins at 41:35)
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<nowiki>[[Category:Thy Dungeonman]][[Category:Books]]</nowiki>
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=Theme from Stinkoman=
=Theme from Stinkoman=
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<nowiki>[[Category:Songs]][[Category:20X6]]</nowiki>
<nowiki>[[Category:Songs]][[Category:20X6]]</nowiki>
 +
=Thy Dungeonman Instruction Manual=
 +
On May 14, 2020, [[Matt Chapman]] read an excerpt from the 400-page '''instruction manual of [[Thy Dungeonman]]''' for the livestreamed second episode of the "Worst First Chapter" [[YouTube]] series, hosted by Paul and Storm of [[DaVinci's Notebook]]. This manual allegedly consists of 395 pages of lore, and 5 pages of PC instructions, and was written by [[Lem Sportsinterviews]].
-
==Burp==
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==Chapter 1==
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2014
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<blockquote>
 +
"Wake yourself, boy!" rasped the old codger, sloshing a mug of cool, refreshing oatmeal square in the young man's face.
 +
{{clear}}
 +
Panicked, Collagen jolted up quickly from his bedroll of pulled pigeon, whole oats oozing from the patchy beard on his tender face of five and five and five years.
-
<blockquote style="text-align:center;width:15%;background-color:#666666;border:3px solid #000;font-size:125%">
+
"I love wagons!" he cried deliriously, wiping sleep out of, and oatmeal into, his bleary eyes. The room was dark. A silver sheen on the stone walls told Collagen that the moon was still up in the autumn sky outside, and a dull clanking announced that the barmess downstairs was gathering up the stoneware, about to close the plodding gentry for the night.
-
<span style="color:white">Edgar's Older Cousin's<br />
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Pet Ferret:</span><br />
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<br />
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The Redundant<br />
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-
Tweet Obliterator</blockquote>
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-
<div style="border:2px solid #999999; width:10%;padding:0.2em">
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"It must be around two full ticks past night's middle!" he thought to himself, wondering what could be so important that it couldn't wait until morning's griddle. "What is it, uncle?"
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<div style="background:red;color:white;text-align:center">'''WARNING!'''
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</div>
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<br>
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<div style="background:red;color:white;text-align:center">'''Neighbors'''<br>
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'''are a-watchin'!'''<br></div></div>
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<blockquote class="tandy email" style="background-image:none;width:7%">
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The old man didn't respond and just sat blinking, as if each closing of his gray eyes added a protective layer between himself and the life-altering news he knew he had to impart on this oat-slick boy.
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macromedia<br>
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<span style="visibility:hidden">macro</span>FLASH <span style="color:#CDE8BF">5</span>
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</blockquote>
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2015
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"Uncle?"
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<div style="background:#303030;color:#AAAAAA;text-align:center;width:50%">
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"A dungeon's been murdered."
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'''This plugin is vulnerable and should be updated.'''<br>
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'''<u>Activate Flash</u>.'''
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</div>
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<div style="background:#000;text-align:center;width:80%">
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Collagen sucked in breath, and a couple of oats actually, causing himself to choke. "A dungeon? But how?" he sputtered.
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'''<span style="color:red;font-size:150%">ST. CADAVERSTUMP'S</span>'''<br>
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'''<span style="color:#35FF00;font-size:90%;line-height:100%">totally not just an old furniture warehouse</span>'''<br>
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'''<span style="color:red;font-size:200%;line-height:100%">MORGUE-TUARY</span>'''
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'''<span style="color:white">Open week nights in October. Located just off I-20</span>'''
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"Of course ye'd ask that. The youth... always questioning how a dank room what's made for the holding and torture of prisoners could ever be alive in the first place, so as to be eligible for the act of murderin'! You lot with your trendy jangled jester hats and your&mdash;"
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</div>
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2016
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"Uncle Prevacid!" barked Collagen, sounding suddenly one and two years older. "I believe you!" the boy said softly, and laid a hand on his uncle's, immediately thinking better of it after his fingers touched something warm and jelly-like. He shifted his hand to one of Prevacid's knees&mdash; no, no, that was worse. He withdrew his hand altogether. "Which dungeon?"
-
<div style="background:#6DCEEE;width:50%;text-align:center"><center>
+
"The Roost of Remington, poor devil. And it was due for an adventure next feast-harvest! Mighta been ''your'' first dungeon if&mdash;" Collagen's uncle stopped short.
-
'''Homestar Runner'''<br>
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-
'''20th Anniversary Show!'''
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</center>
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<div style="background:#2BA948;text-align:center;color:#FFF">
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<big>Venkman's</big><br>
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-
Friday 9.2.16......10 pm<br>
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<center><div style="background:#FFF;width:75%;color:#000">
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Live music from Limozeen, Homestar, Strong Bad, Taranchula,<br>
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-
Coach Z, sloshy, and more! We'll probably even show some<br>
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-
cartoons you've already seen!
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</div></center><br>
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</div></div>
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-
<div style="background:#6DCEEE;width:50%;text-align:center"><center>
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"''My'' first dungeon?" the boy stiffened. "But I'm just the son of a son of a salvemonger! What's a murdered dungeon &mdash; or any dungeon for that matter got to do with me?"
-
{{{!}}
+
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{{!}}- valign="top" align="center"
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{{!}}width="50%;50%"{{!}}
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-
<div style="background:yellow;width:50%">
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Second<br>
+
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show<br>
+
-
added!
+
-
10/7/16</div>
+
Prevacid attempted to soften, but it clearly hurt, so he went back to ornery and sighed, "'Tisn't your father ''or'' your grandfather that's important!" The old man leaned closer, a streak of moonlight cutting jagged across his jagged face, effectively cancelling out any jaggedness. "Your mother was a dungeonwoman."
-
{{!}}{{!}}
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<br>
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-
'''Homestar Runner'''<br>
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-
'''20th Anniversary Show!'''
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-
{{!}}}</center>
+
-
<div style="background:#2BA948;text-align:center;color:#FFF">
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<big>Venkman's</big><br>
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<small>740 Ralph McGill Blvd NE, the ATL, GA 30312</small><br>
+
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<big><span style="color:#F1FF78">FRIDAY OCT 7th 2016 - 10 PM</span></big>
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<center><div style="background:#FFF;width:75%;color:#000">
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Strong Bad, Limozeen, Coach Z, sloshy, Homestar, Marzipan, Taranchula
+
-
</div></center><br>
+
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</div></div>
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2017
+
If Collagen had been holding the mug of oatmeal, he would've dropped it to the floor and it would've shattered in slow motion to great dramatic effect. Since he was only holding the hem of his flea-ridden burlap blanket, he dropped that instead and it just kinda went, "phfff" into his lap, although this action had a devastating effect on the fleas.
-
<blockquote class="compy email">
+
"But father always said me marm was a bookstacker! Plain and dimpled, with a sallow face and a disposition like an unremarkable tree. He said such lovely things about her."
-
Dear Strong Bad,<br />
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-
________________________________<br />
+
-
________________________________<br />
+
-
________________________________<br />
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-
________________________________<br />
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-
___________________<br />
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Woefully yours,<br />
+
-
______<br />
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-
______
+
-
</blockquote>
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-
<blockquote class="compy email" style="text-align:center;background-image:none;border:0px"><span style="font-size:125%">Edgar Jr's Cool Babysitter's</span><br />
+
"It was all on her orders! She didn't want the dungeon life for you! Too much danger and not enough Vitamin D! So she made your dad promise that when he made verbal her memory, it would sound like she was pleasant enough. A loving marm and a right perpendicular bookstacker, but fierce plain, so as not to merit any further investigations into her past."
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<span style="font-size:200%">TWEE-MAIL CONVERTER</span><br />
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-
<br />
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-
<span style="color:#FF0">programmed entirely while Edgar Jr.<br />
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-
was in the bath.</span></blockquote>
+
-
<div style="background:#DBD4CC;width:50%;padding:1em">
+
Collagen reeled, his gaze wandering about the room trying to find an anchor on which to hang this new reality, although a coat hook would probably have been more appropriate. Suddenly, a memory jumped from the dusty underbed toy box of his mind and into the fore. The paint was scratched off and its batteries had that dusty green corrosion stuff on them, but he recalled it with full clarity.
-
<center>'''TAKING CARE OF YOUR GAME'''</center>
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* Treat your BATTLESTAR GALACTICA*<sub>TM</sub> like a calculator
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* Don't drop it.
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* Don't leave it in the car in hot weather.
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* Avoid getting it wet or dirty.
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</div>
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-
<div style="background:#664E34;width:6%;color:#66CC00;font-size:120%;background-image: -webkit-linear-gradient(#664E34,#664E34,#664E34,#664E34,#664E34,#664E34,#755A3D,#755A3D,#755A3D,#755A3D,#755A3D,#755A3D)"><center>
+
"''That's'' why someone wrote 'Collagen's marm was a dungeonlady' on the wall of the public privy that one time! I always thought it was just old Pendace from salve school rubbin' the beef on me!"
-
<big>T</big>he<span style="visibility:hidden"> is!</span><br>
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-
<span style="visibility:hidden">ni</span>end is<span style="visibility:hidden">!</span><br>
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nigher<span style="visibility:hidden">an!</span><br>
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<span style="visibility:hidden">nigh</span>than<span style="visibility:hidden">!</span><br>
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<big>B</big>e<span style="color:white">f</span>ore!
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</center></div>
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2018
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"'Tis no beef rub, boy, 'tis the goat's truth!" His uncle paused. "Also, stay away from the public privy. I hear Lek the Creepo's been sleepin' in there nights."
 +
A contradiction suddenly occured to Collagen. "But if me marm asked me da to hide her dungeon history, why're you tellin' me now?"
-
{{{!}} style="background-color:#FF3399;width:260px"
+
"Because she gave special orders to ol' Prevacid," said the old man, a proud glimmer or possibly just festering cateract in his eye. "Back when you were just a wee budgie, 'fore she left on any dungeon adventure, your marm would take me aside &mdash; rougly, mind you &mdash; had a grip like a pork viper, that one," he remembered, rubbing his shoulder, "And she'd say, 'Remember, Cid, if I don't ever return and there comes a day when you get word o' dungeons being murdered, it's time to tell the boy the truth!'"
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{{!}}width="50%" height=100px align=center{{!}}<span style="line-height:120%;font-size:200%">'''NEED<br>HELP!'''</span>
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{{!}}width="50%" align=center{{!}}Moving 4 more<br>doors to my<br>dorm room!
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{{!}}-
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{{!}}colspan=2 align=center{{!}}<big>CONTACT LOU!</big><br>&mdash; &mdash; &mdash; &mdash; &mdash; &mdash; &mdash; &mdash; &mdash; &mdash; &mdash; &mdash; &mdash; &mdash;
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{{!}}}
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{{{!}} style="background-color:#FF3399;width:260px"
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{{!}}width="12%" align=center{{!}}<span style="line-height:85%;font-size:75%">5<br>5<br>5<br>-<br>4<br>4<br>0<br>4</span>
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{{!}}width="0.5%" align=center style="background-color:white"{{!}}
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{{!}}width="12%" align=center{{!}}<span style="line-height:85%;font-size:75%">5<br>5<br>5<br>-<br>4<br>4<br>0<br>4</span>
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{{!}}width="0.5%" align=center style="background-color:white"{{!}}
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{{!}}width="12%" align=center{{!}}<span style="line-height:85%;font-size:75%">5<br>5<br>5<br>-<br>4<br>4<br>0<br>4</span>
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{{!}}width="12.5%" align=center style="background-color:white"{{!}}
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{{!}}width="12%" align=center{{!}}<span style="line-height:85%;font-size:75%">5<br>5<br>5<br>-<br>4<br>4<br>0<br>4</span>
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-
{{!}}width="0.5%" align=center style="background-color:white"{{!}}
+
-
{{!}}width="12%" align=center{{!}}<span style="line-height:85%;font-size:75%">5<br>5<br>5<br>-<br>4<br>4<br>0<br>4</span>
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-
{{!}}width="12.5%" align=center style="background-color:white"{{!}}
+
-
{{!}}width="12%" align=center{{!}}<span style="line-height:85%;font-size:75%">5<br>5<br>5<br>-<br>4<br>4<br>0<br>4</span>
+
-
{{!}}}
+
-
<div style="color:#BD77E3; width:260px; padding:0.5em; border:2px solid #C8C8C8">
+
"I'm a dungeonman?" asked Collagen hopefully.
-
<center><big>Stew<br>Homework</big></center>
+
-
#How many ingredients are<br>needed to be a true stew?
+
"Ho ho!" laughed Prevacid, "Don't go diaperin' yourself just yet, your royal highness." The sarcasm made Collagen blush stupidly. "At best you're a dungeon''lad'', I s'pose. And by birthright only. No, ye've got quite a road to travel yet if you're ever to be a proper dungeonman."
-
#What are the 5 differences<br>between a soup and a stew?
+
-
#Is chili a stew?
+
-
#When is it appropriate to use<br>the phrase, "Baby, you got a<br>stew going?"
+
-
#Make some stew. Make it good.<br>Deliver to my house by dinner.
+
-
</div>
+
-
<div style="background-color:#FAF0B4; padding:0em 2em 0em 2em; width:25%">
+
Collagen's shoulders sagged. He felt foolish. Just because he found out his mother was a dungeonwoman didn't mean he would all of a sudden be amazing at dungeon adventures, and breeze through thy dungeonschool thanks to his smarter friends, and unnaturally excel at the dungeonsports despite no experience with them, and generally be at the center of every world-endangering dungeon conspiracy. That would be stupid and make him a very blank and uninteresting hero in the end, more defined by those around him, with his best traits feeling entirely unearned. That would work okay for his first couple of stories maybe, with the young children who read them inserting themselves into the blank canvas of Collagen's character, but as the stories went on, readers would disconnect, finding Collagen's colorful friends and enemies more interesting, relatable, and cosplayable. He was just Collagen Salvemonger the Third, a lad of five and five and five years who secretly loved wagons, and still kinda believed in the tooth rot fairy.
-
<span style="visibility:hidden">Pag</span>For untold ages, the chivalrous realm of
+
-
Pageantry had been at war with their adjacent
+
-
neighbor, the deplorable kingdom of Bigotry. Their
+
-
borderlands were a permanent battlefield and
+
-
those unfortunate peasants caught in the midst of
+
-
it all did their best to eke out an existence while
+
-
the war raged around them. Eventually, just before
+
-
the Age of Trogdor, the land on which the armies
+
-
fought became so ravaged and war-torn -and the
+
-
peasants that occupied it so smelly and
+
-
unattractive- that neither side would claim it.
+
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Pageantry said the land was far too ugly and low
+
-
brow to be a part of their realm and Bigotry wanted
+
-
nothing to do with those "weak-kneed, weak-mead
+
-
quaffers". With no realm to call their own, the
+
-
peasants of the borderlands grumbled together a
+
-
meager government and began calling themselves
+
-
the kingdom of Peasantry.
+
-
</div>
+
-
<div style="background-color:#F5EEE5;padding:0.5em;width:200px">
+
"Now stop your potterin', boy," said Prevacid, sensing the boy's self-consiousness. He tried to put a warmth in his tone, which mostly sounded like a sinus infection, and continued, "Inexperienced ye may be, but your role is of great input nonetheless! It's on ''you'' to find out who murdered that dungeon, and put a stop to it lest we lose anymore!"
-
<div style="background-color:#FC9F8D;color:white;padding:0.25em;text-align:center">'''Consummate V's'''</div>
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<center>[[File:TrogdorCardConsummateVs.png|150px|Consummate V's]]</center>
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-
{{{!}} style="background-color:#71634E;color:#EEDEBA;width:100%"
+
-
{{!}}-
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{{!}}width="20%" style="background-color:#FC9F8D;color:#FFF;text-align:center"{{!}}<span style="font-size:250%">'''4'''</span><br>'''AP'''
+
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{{!}}<big>Trogdor<br>has diagonal<br>movement for<br>this turn!</big>
+
-
{{!}}}
+
-
</div>
+
-
<blockquote class="compy email">
+
"You mean I don't have a choice? What if I want to keep mongering salves? Dongering ointments? Hongering balms?" Collagen pented desperately.
-
a> Everyone should go to the<br>
+
-
Homestar Runner panel at PACKS.<br>
+
-
Wait no. PAX. That looks wrong.<br>
+
-
It is definitely PACKS.
+
-
<br><br>
+
-
Sunday, April 8 at 1:30pm<br>
+
-
Dragonfly Theater
+
-
</blockquote>
+
-
<div style="background:white;width:25%;padding:1em">
+
"Ye ''do'' have a choice, ya dolt boulder!" spat Prevacid impatiently, swatting his nephew with his flat, dillow-fur cap. "Why'd you think I'm waking you up in night's middle? So if you want to run off and disappear into the har hills before the village awakes, ye have the chance! What, did you think I'd tell ya, 'This is your destiny and you have to follow it'? I know how those stories go! They're long! And fulla dangers! And pages and pages of really boring songs meant to add to the mythology and all that! I'd not force that on you, boy! Not unless you wanted it!"
-
{{{!}} style="border:3px solid #4B4B52;background-color:#D4DBE1;color:#4B4B52;padding:1em" width="100%"
+
-
{{!}}-
+
-
{{!}}valign=top width=65%{{!}}
+
-
Dear unnamed<br>
+
-
physics teacher,<br>
+
-
you have<br>
+
-
a real<br>
+
-
cool<br>
+
-
student<br>
+
-
that<br>
+
-
wanted<br>
+
-
me say<br>
+
-
"get<br>
+
-
well,"<br>
+
-
so...
+
-
<br><br><br>
+
-
<span style="visibility:hidden">&mdash;</span>Hi-5<br>
+
-
&mdash; STRONG<br>
+
-
<span style="visibility:hidden">&mdash;</span> BAD
+
-
{{!}}valign=top{{!}}
+
-
<big><big><span style="visibility:hidden">F</span>GET<br>
+
-
FREAKIN<br>
+
-
<span style="visibility:hidden">FR</span>WELL,<br>
+
-
<span style="visibility:hidden">FRE</span>MAN!!</big></big>
+
-
<br><br><br><br>
+
-
<span style="visibility:hidden">...</span>STAY<br>
+
-
<span style="visibility:hidden">..</span>TROG-<br>
+
-
STRONG!!
+
-
<br><br><br>
+
-
<span style="visibility:hidden">&larr;</span> DANISH<br>
+
-
<span style="visibility:hidden">&larr;</span> PHYSICIST<br>
+
-
&larr; NIELS BOHR!!
+
-
{{!}}}
+
-
<small><small><small>Homestar Runner & related characters <span style="visibility:hidden">...</span> &copy; 2001 Michael Chapman <span style="visibility:hidden">...</span></small></small></small> Strong Bad</div>
+
-
<blockquote class="compy email" style="text-align:center;background-image:none;border:0px"><span style="font-size:125%">Edgar's Luddite Paw-Paw's</span><br />
+
"Thank you, uncle," Collagen said softly.
-
<span style="font-size:200%">UNFORTUNATE TWEET DELETER</span><br />
+
-
<br />
+
-
<span style="color:#FF0">Programmed entirely by<br />
+
-
whippersnappers both young & ornery</span></blockquote>
+
-
<blockquote class="short tandy email">
+
His uncle motioned to the floor where two pouchels lay like obedient pets. "I've packed two pouchels for ye. One has all you need to flee to the har hills and start a new life with a new identity as a travelling goat-pretender. T'other has all the tips, tricks, and cheat codes your mom left ya, to take up the mantle of thy dungeonman! The choice is yours." Prevacid stood from where he uncomfortably squatted at the foot of the bedroll, picking off puffs of pulled pigeon from his patched pants, and left the room. "I'll be downstairs in the plodding gentry when you've made up your mind," he called back from the hallway.
-
>YO SB<br />
+
-
HOW SO GREAT<br />
+
-
ALL THE TIME?<br />
+
-
-JOBARD
+
-
</blockquote>
+
-
<div style="background-color:white;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:120%;width:23%;padding:0.5em">'''About Videlectrix'''<br>Since the beginning of organized time, or shortly thereafter, the 'Trix, as they are sometimes known, has been on all four fronts of the electronic video gaming industry, providing lo-res entertainment to parents and children alike. In the early years, the Big V, as they are other times known, got their start by typing numbers into calculators and then turning the calculators upside down to form words. In 2003, they partnered with <span style="color:#150E96"><u>Homestarrunner.com</u></span> and released the arcade peasant-masher Trogdor! They've since followed up with hit after hit, including next-gen text adventure Peasant's Quest, side scrolling platformer Stinkoman 20X6, and the unforgettable Color Television Calibration Cartridge.</div>
+
Collagen stared long at the pouchels, seeing his various potential futures stream out of them like fumes in the moonlight, before realizing they were actually real fumes from the grody old cheese that his uncle had packed in each.
-
2020
+
End of chapter 1.
 +
</blockquote>
-
<div align="center" style="width:25%; border:4px solid #343434">
+
==Fun Facts==
-
'''THANK YOU INTERNET'''<br>
+
*[[wikipedia:Collagen|Collagen]] is a type of muscle fiber.
-
'''FOR 20 GREAT YEAR5!'''
+
*[[wikipedia:Lansoprazole|Prevacid]] is a medication which reduces stomach acid.
-
</div><br>
+
*This excerpt features [[oatmeal]], [[the moon]], [[ointment]],  [[goats]], and [[cheese]].
-
<div align="center" style="color:#AC0000; width:25%; border:1px solid #9E9E9E">
+
-
'''ADD AN'''<br>
+
-
'''ADDITIONAL'''<br>
+
-
'''$20 TO ALL'''<br>
+
-
'''PURCHASES!'''
+
-
</div>
+
-
<blockquote class="compy email" style="text-align:center;background-image:none">
+
==External Links==
-
<span style="font-size:150%">Edgar, King<br>
+
*[[youtube:Eac-YjikYS8|watch "Worst First Chapter - Episode 2"]] on [[YouTube]] (introduction begins at 41:06, story begins at 41:35)
-
of All Streams</span><br><br>
+
<nowiki>[[Category:Thy Dungeonman]][[Category:Books]]</nowiki>
-
<span style="color:#C10">datastreaming software<br>
+
-
mostly for flightsims<br>
+
-
and zorklikes</span><br><br>
+
-
<span style="color:#FF0">programmed entirely in<br>
+
-
the dungeon of Castle Edgar</span>
+
-
</blockquote>
+
-
<div align="center" style="color:#AC0000; width:25%; border:1px solid #9E9E9E">
+
-
<div align="center" style="color:#906060; width:25%; border:1px solid #9E9E9E">
+
-
<span style="color:#906060;
+

Revision as of 20:04, 14 June 2020

Contents

Axes

Trogdor was a man.
Battle Axe Lessons at the Rec Center!
Nothing like a rousing game of Bed Axe.

Axes are sharp weapons which can be brought into battle or be used for splitting things in two. Also, as "axe" is a synonym for a type of guitar, many skilled guitarists are able to shred on their axes and chop with their guitars.

Appearances

See Also

[[Category:Items]][[Category:Weapons]]

Candles

I think that's my best one. You know. Keeps-a me warm at night!
Making contact from beyond the flowerbed.
A stick of soft wax. Burns brightly for a long time. Lights up lonely nights.

Candles are used to set the mood for romantic nights and seances.

Appearances

See Also

[[Category:Items]]

Sweet Deals

This article is about the word running gag. For the cereal, see Breakfast Cereals from Specially Marked.
A free chainsaw car? Sweet Deals!

Sweet Deals are a word running gag used to express that something is excellent.

Apppearances

[[Category:Word Running Gags]]

Theme from Stinkoman

"I will fight a brick wall!"

Detailed Information

Album: Homestar Runner Original Soundtrack Volume 2
Track: 16
Time: 51 seconds
Artist(s): Paul & Storm
Origin: Under Construction (instrumental)

Lyrics

SINGERS: Stinkoman
BACKUP: Stinkoman
SINGERS: Stinkoman
BACKUP: Stinkoman
SINGERS:
Fight fight fight fight fight

Challenge of the fighter super fighting of the challenge
Twenty. Exty six. {shing}

All among the universe, the victory is labor
Number one. A-double deuce.

There is no time for candy
Only the challenge to fight
STINKOMAN: {speaking} I will fight a brick wall!
SINGERS: Referred to being the guy
STINKOMAN: {speaking} I will collect many things!
SINGERS: Hero making showdown tonight
BACKUP: Challenge and the fighting and the fighting of the challenge and the fighting fighting fighting fighting
SINGERS: Toniiiight

SINGERS: Stinkoman
BACKUP: Stinkoman
SINGERS: Stinkoman
BACKUP: Stinkoman
SINGERS: Fight

STINKOMAN: 20X6! {shing}
{The credits music from Under Construction plays.}

Fun Facts

External Links

[[Category:Songs]][[Category:20X6]]

Thy Dungeonman Instruction Manual

On May 14, 2020, Matt Chapman read an excerpt from the 400-page instruction manual of Thy Dungeonman for the livestreamed second episode of the "Worst First Chapter" YouTube series, hosted by Paul and Storm of DaVinci's Notebook. This manual allegedly consists of 395 pages of lore, and 5 pages of PC instructions, and was written by Lem Sportsinterviews.

Chapter 1

"Wake yourself, boy!" rasped the old codger, sloshing a mug of cool, refreshing oatmeal square in the young man's face.

Panicked, Collagen jolted up quickly from his bedroll of pulled pigeon, whole oats oozing from the patchy beard on his tender face of five and five and five years.

"I love wagons!" he cried deliriously, wiping sleep out of, and oatmeal into, his bleary eyes. The room was dark. A silver sheen on the stone walls told Collagen that the moon was still up in the autumn sky outside, and a dull clanking announced that the barmess downstairs was gathering up the stoneware, about to close the plodding gentry for the night.

"It must be around two full ticks past night's middle!" he thought to himself, wondering what could be so important that it couldn't wait until morning's griddle. "What is it, uncle?"

The old man didn't respond and just sat blinking, as if each closing of his gray eyes added a protective layer between himself and the life-altering news he knew he had to impart on this oat-slick boy.

"Uncle?"

"A dungeon's been murdered."

Collagen sucked in breath, and a couple of oats actually, causing himself to choke. "A dungeon? But how?" he sputtered.

"Of course ye'd ask that. The youth... always questioning how a dank room what's made for the holding and torture of prisoners could ever be alive in the first place, so as to be eligible for the act of murderin'! You lot with your trendy jangled jester hats and your—"

"Uncle Prevacid!" barked Collagen, sounding suddenly one and two years older. "I believe you!" the boy said softly, and laid a hand on his uncle's, immediately thinking better of it after his fingers touched something warm and jelly-like. He shifted his hand to one of Prevacid's knees— no, no, that was worse. He withdrew his hand altogether. "Which dungeon?"

"The Roost of Remington, poor devil. And it was due for an adventure next feast-harvest! Mighta been your first dungeon if—" Collagen's uncle stopped short.

"My first dungeon?" the boy stiffened. "But I'm just the son of a son of a salvemonger! What's a murdered dungeon — or any dungeon for that matter got to do with me?"

Prevacid attempted to soften, but it clearly hurt, so he went back to ornery and sighed, "'Tisn't your father or your grandfather that's important!" The old man leaned closer, a streak of moonlight cutting jagged across his jagged face, effectively cancelling out any jaggedness. "Your mother was a dungeonwoman."

If Collagen had been holding the mug of oatmeal, he would've dropped it to the floor and it would've shattered in slow motion to great dramatic effect. Since he was only holding the hem of his flea-ridden burlap blanket, he dropped that instead and it just kinda went, "phfff" into his lap, although this action had a devastating effect on the fleas.

"But father always said me marm was a bookstacker! Plain and dimpled, with a sallow face and a disposition like an unremarkable tree. He said such lovely things about her."

"It was all on her orders! She didn't want the dungeon life for you! Too much danger and not enough Vitamin D! So she made your dad promise that when he made verbal her memory, it would sound like she was pleasant enough. A loving marm and a right perpendicular bookstacker, but fierce plain, so as not to merit any further investigations into her past."

Collagen reeled, his gaze wandering about the room trying to find an anchor on which to hang this new reality, although a coat hook would probably have been more appropriate. Suddenly, a memory jumped from the dusty underbed toy box of his mind and into the fore. The paint was scratched off and its batteries had that dusty green corrosion stuff on them, but he recalled it with full clarity.

"That's why someone wrote 'Collagen's marm was a dungeonlady' on the wall of the public privy that one time! I always thought it was just old Pendace from salve school rubbin' the beef on me!"

"'Tis no beef rub, boy, 'tis the goat's truth!" His uncle paused. "Also, stay away from the public privy. I hear Lek the Creepo's been sleepin' in there nights."

A contradiction suddenly occured to Collagen. "But if me marm asked me da to hide her dungeon history, why're you tellin' me now?"

"Because she gave special orders to ol' Prevacid," said the old man, a proud glimmer or possibly just festering cateract in his eye. "Back when you were just a wee budgie, 'fore she left on any dungeon adventure, your marm would take me aside — rougly, mind you — had a grip like a pork viper, that one," he remembered, rubbing his shoulder, "And she'd say, 'Remember, Cid, if I don't ever return and there comes a day when you get word o' dungeons being murdered, it's time to tell the boy the truth!'"

"I'm a dungeonman?" asked Collagen hopefully.

"Ho ho!" laughed Prevacid, "Don't go diaperin' yourself just yet, your royal highness." The sarcasm made Collagen blush stupidly. "At best you're a dungeonlad, I s'pose. And by birthright only. No, ye've got quite a road to travel yet if you're ever to be a proper dungeonman."

Collagen's shoulders sagged. He felt foolish. Just because he found out his mother was a dungeonwoman didn't mean he would all of a sudden be amazing at dungeon adventures, and breeze through thy dungeonschool thanks to his smarter friends, and unnaturally excel at the dungeonsports despite no experience with them, and generally be at the center of every world-endangering dungeon conspiracy. That would be stupid and make him a very blank and uninteresting hero in the end, more defined by those around him, with his best traits feeling entirely unearned. That would work okay for his first couple of stories maybe, with the young children who read them inserting themselves into the blank canvas of Collagen's character, but as the stories went on, readers would disconnect, finding Collagen's colorful friends and enemies more interesting, relatable, and cosplayable. He was just Collagen Salvemonger the Third, a lad of five and five and five years who secretly loved wagons, and still kinda believed in the tooth rot fairy.

"Now stop your potterin', boy," said Prevacid, sensing the boy's self-consiousness. He tried to put a warmth in his tone, which mostly sounded like a sinus infection, and continued, "Inexperienced ye may be, but your role is of great input nonetheless! It's on you to find out who murdered that dungeon, and put a stop to it lest we lose anymore!"

"You mean I don't have a choice? What if I want to keep mongering salves? Dongering ointments? Hongering balms?" Collagen pented desperately.

"Ye do have a choice, ya dolt boulder!" spat Prevacid impatiently, swatting his nephew with his flat, dillow-fur cap. "Why'd you think I'm waking you up in night's middle? So if you want to run off and disappear into the har hills before the village awakes, ye have the chance! What, did you think I'd tell ya, 'This is your destiny and you have to follow it'? I know how those stories go! They're long! And fulla dangers! And pages and pages of really boring songs meant to add to the mythology and all that! I'd not force that on you, boy! Not unless you wanted it!"

"Thank you, uncle," Collagen said softly.

His uncle motioned to the floor where two pouchels lay like obedient pets. "I've packed two pouchels for ye. One has all you need to flee to the har hills and start a new life with a new identity as a travelling goat-pretender. T'other has all the tips, tricks, and cheat codes your mom left ya, to take up the mantle of thy dungeonman! The choice is yours." Prevacid stood from where he uncomfortably squatted at the foot of the bedroll, picking off puffs of pulled pigeon from his patched pants, and left the room. "I'll be downstairs in the plodding gentry when you've made up your mind," he called back from the hallway.

Collagen stared long at the pouchels, seeing his various potential futures stream out of them like fumes in the moonlight, before realizing they were actually real fumes from the grody old cheese that his uncle had packed in each.

End of chapter 1.

Fun Facts

External Links

[[Category:Thy Dungeonman]][[Category:Books]]

Personal tools