tuf bono respect

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Bob Geldof explained the charity to tuf bono.

"Y'see, tuf bono, y'see there are childrun dyun'. Childrun! Dyun'! At Christmastime!"

tuf bono nibbled on a bit of pizza and wondered if any of the dead children were on it. That would make for an interesting diversion from deinonychus, velociraptor, and poutine.

"Y'see, I fthink we needuh feed tha wourld, tuf bono, at Christmastime, ta stop tha childrun dyun'! Childrun! Dyun'!"

"you look pretty decrepti yourself," said tuf bono through mouthfuls. He was proud he remembered a word like 'decrepit', even though the author had typoed it, so he had a six pack of Heineken before continuing with the pizza.

"Solidarity with the childrun dyun', tuf bono. Childrun! Dyun'!"

"but what's this gotta do with christmastime, Bob Geldof? christmastime is about beer, turkey, pizza, turkey pizza, wine, champagne ..." Bob Geldof was a little shocked. tuf bono went on. "is your charity going to contribute champagne to the childrun dyun'? i mean, i think i can part with a bottle or two for them."

"No, no, no, tuf bono! We can feed the world by raising money with a charity single that gets our MESSIDGE out there!" Bob Geldof didn't speak in a funny accent any more because the author was too lazy to work one out.

"wait wait there's a MESSIDGE? well why didn't you say so, Bob Geldof! we might even get it to the PRESSYDENTUH! oh i'm gonna help the childrun dyun' and get the MESSIDGE out there and help your christmas! oh we can change the world, like how me and that nice man ian mcculloch are changing the world with our music! you know him? ian mcculloch? yeah yeah i think he said he really hates war, all that combat and violence, especially sunday bloody sunday, the memory of that distresses him! oh he's such a tender man. you should invite him in on the charity!"

tuf bono then handed Bob Geldof his address book before sculling another twelve Heinekens and passing out for a few minutes in his usual respectable way. Bob Geldof, eager to stop children dying, flicked through tuf bono's address book to find Ian McCulloch. The address book seemed full of a terribly large amount of velociraptor numbers ... tuf bono respected them a lot, it seemed.
 
After sifting through the velociraptor numbers, Bob Geldof was able to find Ian in tuf bono's address book, and called him. Due to a quirk in the author's memory, the line suddenly was dead as Bob Geldof called The Corpse Known As Ian Curtis instead of Ian McCulloch and calls cannot be made to beyond the grave.

Bob Geldof was so enthusiastic to stop childrun dyun' that he recruited everyone in tuf bono's address book, including: $ting, beebe kyng, 364 velociraptors, and Miley Cyrus. When Cyrus showed up, however, three of the velociraptors tore her apart and tuf bono put their leftovers on his poutine pizza. Tween Sensayshun is one of the few things that can turn tuf bono's stomach, so he barfed poutine-and-cyrus pizza all over tuf edge, which was very disrespectful indeed. tuf edge went off to the showers, grumbling.

Adam Clayton woke up from his nap on the top floor of Slane Castle and looked down at the massive collection of velociraptors on the lawn. He decided his best course of action was to drink another bottle of champagne and go back to sleep.

tuf bono, sickened by Tween Sensayshun, drank two cases of heineken to settle his stomach, then ate fourteen squirrels. Bob Geldof said, "Much respec', tuf bono, but wha' abou' our MESSIDGE abou' Chris'mas time, eh?"

tuf bono, now with a raging headache, shouted, "SHUT UP ABOUT THAT!" and threw a can of heineken filled with squirrel bones at Bob Geldof.
 
As Bob Geldof nursed a bruise and began humming lines about "feed tha wourld, there'suh childrun dyun'!", tuf bono was called to the phone.

"I ... think you better take this," said Adam, who had answered. "I ... might just be stoned, but ... woah." The author took this moment to remind the reader again that U2 is a clean and upright band who would never ever get stoned, and whatever would make you think that? Get your mind out of the gutter, dear reader, and continue.

tuf bono took the phone. "hello?"

"Hi, tuf bono," said an eerie baritone voice. "This is Ian Curtis."

"oh hey hey ian curtis how's it going man!" tuf bono was excited now. He hadn't spoken to Ian Curtis since, oh, May 1980 or so.

"This is Ian Curtis."

"yeah yeah you said, oh it's great to hear from you! sorry i didn't phone you sooner! the band's been kinda busy and i've got this MESSIDGE to the PRESSYDENTUH and oh did i ever tell you about my poutine pizza?"

"This is Ian Curtis. I'm dead, you bleedin' nincompoop."

"oh right how's that treating you!"

"Not bad, I'm communing with the earth in a way I'm sure you'd respect, but I thought I'd take some time out of my busy schedule to see if I could participate in the charity single! Bob Geldof told Robert Smith about it and Bob drove to see my grave in his hearse last night and told me all about it." Death must have been getting to Ian Curtis. He seemed to be unable to tell Irish people apart and considered Bob Geldof and tuf bono to be interchangeable.

"This is emphatically not the case," said the author. "One is respectable; the other is decrepit. Now, I'll transfer you back to the phone call."

"oh i'd love to sing with you, ian curtis!" gushed tuf bono as everybody around him assumed he was hallucinating. "oh man oh man this is like a life dream. this will be The Song!"

"Make your way to my grave, tuf bono, and we can discuss this some more. I must now go; an appendage of mine has a date with a colony of worms. See you at midnight." The line went dead, much like Ian Curtis himself. tuf bono handed the phone back to Adam Clayton and gazed about in wonderment. Before anybody could say anything about what had just transpired, the phone rang again. Adam picked it up.

"Hey this is Rosebud!"

"Oh hi!" said Adam. "Will you notice that you've been written into the story?"

"Not if the author's male!"

"Jolly good then," and he hung up. Only for the fucking phone to ring again. "Yeah who is it?"

"Oh hey eh this is Geddy Lee eh I was wondering eh if I could be in Bob Geldof's charity single eh! I can sing eh some amazing lyrics eh aboot intergalactic cabbages determining the fate of human starvation eh!" Eh.

"NO RUSH!" roared Adam and he hung up the phone.

tuf bono, meanwhile, was busy drinking an oak barrel of wine in preparation for his trip to Ian Curtis's grave. "prepare the hearse!" he yelled between litre gulps to nobody in particular.
 
Well for propriety's sake, I would clarify that I posted after reading just Bonnie's and Ashley's installments. I am far too busy to read this entire A Story. No slight on your manhood intended Ax (for now). :D

But as it happens, this is a fine turn of events! :love:
 
u2protestbono.jpg
 
While tuf bono polished off his oak barrel, the rest of the group drew straws to see who would have to drive the hearse and tuf bono to Ian Curtis' grave. A minor argument broke out when Adam was accused of cheating. How anyone can cheat at drawing straws, this author doesn't know, but Adam was accused of it. So he and Robert Smith played Rock-Paper-Scissors, best of 3 5 7 --"WILL YOU BOTH STOP PICKING PAPER, FOR GOD'S SAKE?" the author shouted in a rather booming voice.

The game went four more rounds, at which point Adam finally picked scissors and Robert Smith had to prepare the hearse.
 
Robert Smith, who, for some reason, I've turned into quite the bad guy, didn't appreciate the sudden turn of events where he was not quite so evil after all, and he was going to see things changed in that department, got into the hearse. Then he realized tuf bono was not in it, so he got back out, walked over him, dragged his sorry carcass back to the hearse and threw him in the back. It was a jolly good time tuf bono was having.

Robert Smith, however, fucking despaired. This Ian Curtis prank wasn't working out the way he'd planned. He was not meant to be there when IT happened.
 
Driving to Ian Curtis's grave, tuf edge threw a can of POWERJUICE into the back of the hearse to sober tuf bono up a bit. tuf bono guzzled the POWERJUICE and sat up instantly.

"Where the hell are we going?" tuf bono asked. "I have to deliver a MESSIDGE to the PRESSYDENTUH!"

"Now he remembers!" Robert smith muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Well, at your behest, we're now on our way to visit Ian Curtis's grave," tuf edge explained.

"Oh, that's alright then," tuf bono said and lay back down.

When they arrived at the gravesite, a green fish-man popped up from behind the headstone and shouted, "I'm Ole Gregg! I got a vagina!"

tuf edge pulled out a gun and shot Ole Gregg dead, saying "Vaya con dios, you undead freak!"

"You shot Ian Curtis!" tuf bono exclaimed.

"That wasn't Ian Curtis, Robert Smith sighed, fucking despairing. "That's a hermaphroditic merman."

"That was some Fine Goth Murdering," tuf edge said and handed the gun to Robert Smith.

Ole Gregg lay dead next to the headstone, legs splayed. tuf bono cocked his head to try to look up Ole Gregg's skirt, but tuf hatmouse scurried over and pulled Ole Gregg's skirt shut, scolding tuf bono furiously in mouse. tuf bono sighed and looked away.

tuf hatmouse climbed up tuf bono's leg, causing tuf bono to giggle as tuf hatmouse's claws made their way to his shoulder. tuf hatmouse then leapt onto his rightful place on tuf bono's hat.

Meanwhile, the author wondered if the other authors would appreciate this turn in the A Story.
 
This here author was aghast. What the hell was that? She did a google search for "ole gregg" and was horrified to get a result related to The Mighty Boosh, which henceforth shall be censored, under Aspects Of Respect. The M****** B**** is nothing but mere evidence that British comedy of today is a fair sight below what it used to be. Alas, this respectable rpg now has a permanent scar.

Alas, tuf bono was looking up a hermaphrodite's skirt.

This lasted longer than it probably should have. Fortunately, Robert Smith had a flamethrower in his backpack, and flamed that shit right up. Onwards! To Ian Curtis' grave, they go! How much more relevant it would be for Reggo to reference the RokTV bit from The Day Today instead! Nonetheless, Things Were About To Happen.

The crew arrived at a gravestone that looked a little summin' like this:
ian_curtis_gravestone_love_will_tea.jpg


but with Humphrey Bogart standing next to it, face down, wearing a coat and fedora, looking all kinds of like Bogie should.

"You kids waitin' for Curtis?" he muttered to the motley crew behind him. "You're too late. Now scram."

tuf bono was confused. He knew Ian wasn't very mobile nowadays, and found it curious that he would leave so promptly, especially after speaking to him on the phone mere hours ago.

"Kid's been graverobbed."

tuf bono was as aghast as the author was earlier. "wait, what? ian curtis is my closest and best friend! why would he leave like this?! fuck you, bogie! fuck you!".

tuf bono's schnoz was promptly met with Bogart's swift hand. "When you're slapped, you'll take it and like it", Bogart ordered. tuf edge rolled his eyes.
 
bonomullet3.jpg


Stare, my friends. Stare into the eyes of a man that hasn't been respected for over twenty four hours. His despair creeps into your soul, possibly in search of poutine. Yet, he truly does fucking despair in this horrid lack of respect.
 
The Sad Punk said:
Stare, my friends. Stare into the eyes of a man that hasn't been respected for over twenty four hours. His despair creeps into your soul, possibly in search of poutine. Yet, he truly does fucking despair in this horrid lack of respect.
Click to expand...



He can despair away. I show respect by being indifferent. I'm like a teenager. A rebel.


pfffft!
 
The author was so disappointed. The respectable rpg had crawled to a halt for a disgustingly disrespectful length of time.

However, the author was not to blame! The other lazy authors were! For the last installment had ended at a point that confused this author. He was not familiar with Bogart. Only tuf bono.

"What am I meant to do?" wondered the author. Actually, he'd wondered this about 24 hours ago and had gone and posted in the Superthread. But that had not induced any other rpg updates. "Well this isn't a respectable state of affairs."

tuf bono awaited something to happen. He drank a can of Heineken and impatiently threw it at the author.

Nothing happened.
 
The author was also drinking a can of beer. It was from Austria, and it contained ascorbic acid. What the fuck? What kind of a beer contains ascorbic acid? One that tuf bono would drink, she thought! The author gave the dregs of the can to tuf bono, who reveled in the uncomfortable taste. It reminded the author of how she spilled the interior contents of a glowstick on herself last night. It was sort of like, she imagined, how that would taste if you drank it.

tuf bono pondered on this, went to the dumpster behind the Haçienda, picked up a few used glowsticks, and blended them into a delectable smoothie. Another winner, he thought to himself.

SUDDENLY, HE SAW A SHADOW CREEPING OUT FROM BEHIND A CAR. tuf bono WAS FRIGHTENED BY THIS! He is frightened by a lot of things. tuf bono is as cowardly as he is fat, drunk and lazy. It makes for a highly original character, one not yet seen on Primetime television.

"w-w-who are you, creepster!" he said, holding a broken bottle of Ketel One to defend himself with. The figure slowly revealed himself. He was like an older tuf bono, but with absolutely nothing in common with the respectable chap. "Oh, oh god, don't tell me it's you. I hate you. With all my soul."

"what"

"You're the man I'm running away from, dammit! What the fuck are you doing here?! You don't neck eccies!"

"what"

"You don't know who I am?"

"what- oh hey yeah i do! you some kinda a coky movie star! you're what'shisname! i love it!"

"I'm >>P0PB0N0<<, bitch. And I'm gonna kick your arse."

>>P0PB0N0<< stepped out of the shadows, respected Liam Gallagher for a few minutes, and then started powering up his laser eyes. tuf bono was in some pretty deep shit.
 
tuf bono quivered. This wasn't right. Wasn't time meant to be linear?

A voice from 2009 told him "NO! That's not what she told me!"

tuf bono wimpered. "fuuuuck man fuuuuuck i need a heineken." So he had a whole brewery. >>P0PB0N0<<'s lasers were nearly ready.

"oh man oh man this can't be happening to me oh god my MESSIDGE will go undelivered oh no tuf edge help me!" But tuf edge was nowhere to be seen. Only a guy with a pornstache making jet noises. "fuuuuuck."

A blinding flash rippled across the sky. An orb began descending dramatically, illuminated by mobile phones. None of this was terribly realistic, but the orb eventually reached the ground and settled down between tuf bono and >>P0PB0N0<<.

"oh thank god!" blurted tuf bono.

"Why an orb?" the author wondered.

The orb opened, to reveal two little children. Both wore wraparound shades.

"Hey ELEVAYSHUN BONO," said one of the kids, "I think we've just arrived in the future! THE FUTURE! That amazing place that Edge comes from. He says it's better. Cancer's been cured. I can see for miles and miles, just like a rat in a cage. 2, 3, 4, send in the clowns!"

"yeah VERTIGO-O-BONO, that must be it!" enthused the one called ELEVAYSHUN BONO.

"ohmygawdguyzyagottahelpohgod!!!" screamed tuf bono.

"You look like a man who's ironed his hair!" said VERTIGO-O-BONO. "A man should never look like he's ironed his hair. She won't love you, yeah yeah yeah yeah. It's just a silly look. See me, feel me? It makes the spirit of the mullet linger on in me. People I don't know are trying to kill me. :("

"but we'll help you anyway!" said ELEVAYSHUN BONO. "we're busy saving africa but we need your help! you gotta take your MESSIDGE to the world! feed the world!"

The two kids turned to >>P0PB0N0<<.

">>P0PB0N0<<, you can save africa in other ways!"

"Yeah, you've got to just turn on your cell phone, that powerful little object, and light this place up like a milky way, and be ONE! ONE! One with occupantss of interplanetary, most extraordinary craft! How long to sing this song! How long must people starve! We must have debt relief now. The people have the power! THE PEOPLE HAVE THE POWER! HELLO, HELLO, HOLA!" gushed VERTIGO-O-BONO. "tuf bono's got a MESSIDGE, you know! We gotta band together. Lasers won't stop malaria. Stop in the name of love. Sing for Martin Luther King! And PUT DOWN THAT FUCKING CELL PHONE!"

That last sentence was a bad move.

"What did you just tell me to do, you batshit snippetry-mad freak?!" roared >>P0PB0N0<<. He focused his charged lasers.

"oh shit VERTIGO-O-BONO we better run!" shrieked ELEVAYSHUN BONO. "the goal is soul!"

VERTIGO-O-BONO preached for ten minutes about why soul should be the goal for all, then they ran off a cliff together, hand-in-hand, never to be seen again.

>>P0PB0N0<< turned back to tuf bono. However, tuf bono had disappeared.

"Oh fuck! I forgot there are multiple pizza joints in this area!"
 
tuf edge had nightmares.

The author was going to have nightmares too.
 
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