The D of S, Vol. II: Terrazzo IV

It's the next morning on Purgatory. tWBS: Hey, wake up. Senor: Ugh, I slept like I was on a rock. (He checks his "pillow.") Oh, that explains it. tWBS: I hear footsteps. Senor: It sounds like running. Towards here. tWBS: Welcoming party? Senor: No! This is the terrace of sloth, so… penance, actually. Slothful Soul: (running by

BattleBots Beat: When Titans Collide

Everyone still standing? Good. Welcome back to the Beat, the leading BattleBots wall o'text that gets written and formatted the day before because it's important to put the pro in procrastination! Anyway last week was the premiere, where Fusion nearly achieved it, Malice still didn't do the D-X Crotch Chop, and

The D of S, Vol. II: Terrazzo III

Senor: …Seamus? tWBS has a hand on his head and a hand on the ground to try and prevent himself from falling. Because falling down the mountain would suck. tWBS: Stoning… not the fun kind… (he comes to) Shit. I was here the whole time? Senor: And muttering something about stoning, and not

The D of S, Vol. II: Terrazzo I

Place: Walking into the first terrace, through the gate of PurgatoryTime: About twenty seconds after the previous chapter tWBS: So, I can't look back, huh? So what if I do this? (He looks back.) Senor: Dude, n— The two are seemingly teleported the several hundred feet back to where they started, the gate of

The D of S, Vol. II: Alle Porte del Purgatorio

Through the climb of Ante-Purgatory, about five minutes after the last volume ended TWBS: Hey, why'd you do that? We could have watched football and had beer and nachos with Gerry Ford! Senor: As much fun as that would have been we have to move. I know, it's unfortunate, but we would've

The D of S, Vol II: Ante-Purgatorio

Place: On the boat to the shores Purgatory TWBS: So, what are they all singing? (As per last installment.) Senor: In exitu Israel de Aegypto, "When Israel Came Out of Egypt." There's gonna be some Gregorian chants here, you've been warned. TWBS: Well that sucks. That's shit music that died out centuries ago. Senor:

Your Jets at the Bye Rant

The minimum word count's still broke, so let's do this: Let's put 5 minutes on the clock and see what I can type out. Ready? Go. The New York Jets are BAD. Forget winless bad, a lot of teams can do that. I'm talking great works of badness in history. I'm