Brakelatabasaasta Message Dump

[Zukeenee]

Comm ID: Brakelatabasaasta
Transmit to: zOMG everybody!!!!

Brakelatabasaasta appears on a screen.

People. I have a very important message to relay to you. I was told that is was confidential, but by Robert, the people need to know!

Brakelatabasaasta stops to take a sip from his cup of justabovalukawarma chocolate.

The Tree-People of Omi-Sig-Mega-Tau-Eleventy-Eight have found new allies. Dangerous allies. Like, "Oh my fish, lock your noses and turn off the shafts" dangerous.

He leans in closer to the screen.

The Stones. The Stones have arrived to make your life a living Denmark! I give you now a direct quote from my informant:

"...the stones are gathering. Stormy clouds are ducking like swarmed flies-meat.
Serious purple are dropping where the Old Vans jump."

Serious purple indeed! Seriously purple problems such as these require seriously purple solutions! Now, I have thought long and hard on the subject, and I think I have the solution: Width times height. And another! Moss. Moss will stop the Stones! They can't roll over you and crush your bones when they're covered in moss! So I have devised a plan. Behold!



The Moss Gun! It's pretty much self-explanatory.

This is where we make our stand! Here at... space! Women, tiny babies, and wiener-dogs head for the hills. All able-bodied men, come to me. Gather up all the moss you can find and stuff it in your cheeks as if it were acorns, and come give me a good rub-down with it! Wait, what was the moss for again? I think it was just for a good rub-down...



Huh.



I totally forgot what I was talking about. Well, I'm sure it was nothing important. How did I get a camera in here...?

Anyway, I'll be waiting for that mossy-massage. You know where to find me. In the mean-time (why is time always mean? Can't it ever be nice-time?), I've got some swarmed flies-meat to take care of.


--Broadcast ends--

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