And it came to pass, that Porker was slighted and the inmates saw this and knew it was wrong. And they organized and communicated, and a message was circulated amongst their ragged numbers. And the message read:
Quote:
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Be part of board history. Join the hunger strike against the admin of this site.
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A spokesman stepped forward, his face and eyes hidden behind a makeshift hood of torn prison garments. He stood on boulder and shouted demands:
....."We the inmates of HN Cell Block D to make the following charges:
To wit:
That the member known as Stealthycat, Big Red Porker, Arnold Shortsinvader, and at least four other names, the likes of which I'm too tired to recall, has been smited unjustly by having damned, yanked, and silenced the thread in which he was awarded THE VC1111 COOL PHRASE OF THE WEEK AWARD, thus depriving him for all eternity, of that bastion of respect and pride so sought after by the many and achieved by only the few.
That in doing so, said member has lost all bragging rights for his children, their children and his children's children, yada, yada, yada.
That the yanking of such precious scribe, tripe, and prose, is unprecedented, was premeditated, and is as result, particularly egregious, having smitten said member's genteel sensibilities, and excacerbated the delicate balance of the forum at this time.
To wit den and wit dat in mind, we make the following demands of the board screws (mods) and the warden, aka HN1Justin et al:
That the prose of the Porker be transcribed and etched upon a burly oak plate of appropriate grace and stature, to be placed in treestand at the entrance of this forum for all eternity to stand as a mute reminder of the day that Porker waxed so quaint and philosophic as to render unto himself the aforementioned award."
(...the spokesman raises his voice now and continues...)
"That barring that and the prompt delivery of above referenced demands, a hunger strike will be organized amongst the board member/inmates, replete with the burning of mattresses, the throwing of toilet paper down the gangwalks of every level of the cell block, and the loud and unruly purveyance of gutteral bodily noises of unpleasant and grotesque nature and design.
To wit and wit all due respect we make these demands...
*In the background the inmates rise up with a moaning din of rebellion: "Free FNG! Free FNG! Free FNG!...."
Shivs are passed out, mods are taken hostage, and sirens begin to sound. Porker straps on his black armband and red headband and stands with head lowered, fist raised, in silent protest.
It has begun. God help us all, it has begun.
Free the HN Seven...
VC1111
