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rhetorical answers (swordplay@beige.party)'s status on Sunday, 27-Jul-2025 11:56:03 JST

rhetorical answers

in reply to

@Alice

'choo choo go vroom vroom'

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Mat B (twoclownseating@beige.party)'s status on Sunday, 27-Jul-2025 12:11:44 JST

Mat B

in reply to

@Alice

Overalls and jumpsuits are pretty cute, particularly on gals (cancel me already, don't drag it out, I've got a lady mechanic fetish, deal with it).

Anyway, the idea of an article of clothing you have to completely remove/lower to have a piss seems a hassle.

At a music festival, in an all in one or dungarees, I'm not hugging you, no matter how long its been. Keep your piss straps away from me.

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Nuclear Oatmeal :paranoid: (nuclearoatmeal@beige.party)'s status on Sunday, 27-Jul-2025 12:13:51 JST

Nuclear Oatmeal :paranoid:

in reply to

@Alice

"So, since trains normally don't have faces, some people wonder about Thomas and his peers. The truth is, when you embrace the love of Satan, nothing is refused for you..."

One horrible day, Sir Bertram Thopham Hatt had a breakdown of his personal jet, yet he still has business to conduct in London. As such, he had no choice but to take the train, since bankers don't work with billion dollar businesses over the phone, and the boffins had been rude enough to not have built the Internet yet, along with Zoom calls.

While waiting for his train in the club lounge, Sir Hatt's reading was disturbed by children running around the station, screaming and making "Toot Toot" sounds and pretending to be trains, and running into the club so they could be chased out by the doorman.

After what seemed like hours of these shenanigans, Sir Hatt stood up, grabbed a child by the ear and stomped into the lobby.

"WHAT MADNESS IS THIS? THESE HOOLIGANS ARE OUT OF CONTROL! WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS TRAVESTY?"

A young teacher calmly walked to Sir Hatt, explaining, "Oh, good Sir. The children are only playing. We've been on expedition today, and we're now returning home. Leave the children be. Play is good for them, and they enjoy pretending to be trains."

"I HEAR NO SOLUTION FROM YOU, SO I WILL TAKE MATTERS INTO MY OWN HAND, STARTING WITH THIS YOUNG RUFFIAN!"

Sir Hatt made odd gestures with one hand, and pulled on young Thomas' ear until his feet were a foot above the floor.

"YOU WISH TO BE A TRAIN? SO MOTE IT BE!"

The hand holding Thomas started glowing red, and when the glow was too bright to see, the sound of metal being bent and smashing against other metal overwhelmed the lobby. The smell of fuel and smoke filled the room, and a small confused scream could be heard coming from the rail yard.

Young Thomas was nowhere to be found.

"AND THE REST OF YOU SHALL JOIN HIM!"

With that, Sir Hatt waved both hands through the air, and the glow of tiny stars appeared to leave his hands and floated to each child. The shock of Thomas' disappearance had frozen each child in place, and as the small star contacted each child, a familiar glow started, raising from each child.

"AS YOU WERE, YOU WILL BE. I WILL IT THROUGH THE POWER OF THE MORNING STAR!"

More metal sounds were heard, and in some cases, the movement of the metal sounded like screams. As the glow where each child had been started to fade, it could be seen that there were no more children in the train station lobby. Incoherent screams and yells could be heard from the rail yard.

Sir Hatt looked pleased, did a sharp turnabout, and went back to the club to wait for his train. He knew that there was new business here for him in the days ahead, but known business in London took priority, and these children could wait. Outside.

---

"And that's how Thomas the tank engine and all of his friends came into our world.'

"Now over here, you can see what's called a push cart. You could have two people..."

(Fade away as Alice walks, continuing her corruption of the youth.)

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