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I am actually doing a limerick for this one.

I'd feel more confident if you had underlined the word actually...

Well, we're almost to the halfway point of this fortnight's comp!  I'm looking forward to lots of entries.  Or at least a couple.  One'd be nice, actually.  I mean actually.  Don't tell me you've all run off to that NEW activity.  Sure she's young and popular, interesting in a quirky way and fun to be around.  But where is she when your cornea gets scuffed and you have to wear an eye-patch around?  That's right: out partying with the other boys, while you are left to wallow in your own self-nursing!  So flirt if you must, but don't forget who's always been here for you, baby: The Fortnightly Writing Competition.  And now she needs just a little tender love and affection back, ok?  I think she deserves at least that, after everything she's done for you over the years.  So buck up that sense of resigned obligation and let her know you still care.

And don't forget: Have FUN FUN FUN!!

I'm going to be honest about the fact that I've already taken many stabs at this in an abandoned suspended project of mine:


I'll be starting from scratch for this workshop of course, but I'm still angling towards creating something that might work here.  I need a dragon with a broken claw and wings, and otherwise just an immensely fearsome and impressive beast.  What I found didn't work last time around: my figure looks flat, anatomically unrealistic, stiffly posed and disjointed.  This time I'm going to attempt an anatomical study of related beasts (dinosaurs, lizards, birds...) and a real-life model (my imperiously lazy cat) to see if I can create something more "natural" looking.

Goddammit! If only I had enough time I could do LaSol 2!
Maybe I'll still try... Maybe...

I volunteer to reprise my voice-role as Helicopter Pilot 1 if this happens.  I've got the electric fan ready and everything.

It's Top Sescret. "I'm sorry, I don't speak German..." "I know a little German, He's sitting right over there". Did have to google the quote.

Buckethead, you are correct.  He he...  I know a little German....  Anyway, Buckethead's turn.

Maybe it's just that I have kids....  I seriously found the plot summary disturbing.

Anyway, since no one is telling me I'm wrong, let's move this competition on to sunnier moments in cinematic history:



Bonus marks if you give the quote that goes along with this scene.

[Dogtooth (Kynodontas)]

After all we don't want to stall this awesome thread, do we?

Dogtooth (Kynodontas).  But I had to cheat to guess it  (by the way Wikipedia's plot summary suggests that you have a messed-up taste in movies.)

[Duration:]

Write a story or poem about a robot becoming self-aware.  Johnny Five, Hal, Skynet, Agent Smith, Marvin:  They all had to have that "Whoa!" moment where they realized that they existed.  Your protagonist can be anything electrical from a disembodied internet virus to an Austin Powers Fem-Bot, from a mobile phone that calls itself to a middle school calculator that accidentally divides by zero, from a tracking chip in a dog's butt to an overly aware and severely paranoid Watson -if it's got circuitry, it counts.  Heck, I'll even allow Robocop-esque cyborgs with human brains, human-machine hybrids like Darth Vader, and blondes with wrist-watches, so long as you focus on the moment of their reawakening as their new selves.
     
The tone of your composition can be humorous, philosophical, technical, emotional, solipsistic, deranged, reflective, joyous, perverse or binary.  Basically try to think outside the box and come at it from a unique angle.  And have fun.  That's important.

Duration: Competition runs from now to 10pm EDT May 14, after which point we'll have a three day vote.

Prizes: Trophies Trophies Trophies Trophies Trophies!!!!!!

Well, there's BLUE LOBE INC. by Baron.

Well BLUE LOBE INC. never made it past the drawing board last year (although it has recently been resurrected!).  However I did use the same system for CLEVELAND 1968, which can be played or just watched on You Tube.  I didn't use any module, but I understand there is one.

[EDIT:]

Hey Hey!!       It turns out that sometimes the voting public knows what they're talking about!    
       In all seriousness, I thought this time around was one of the stiffest competitions we've had in a while.  Admittedly I've only really kept my eye on this comp over the past six months, but still I was very impressed with the quality and quantity of entries.  Hopefully this will continue in the next stunning instalment of....

THE FORTNIGHTLY WRITING COMPETITION!!!
Theme to be announced shortly.  Stand by....

EDIT: Man, I loved UFO: Enemy Unknown back in the day....  So too did this guy who lived a couple doors down in my college dorm: I could never get rid of that guy!  He was always on my computer!  Anyway, I'm not on Steam and I don't really have spare time as such, so... reluctantly... I'm going to have to give up the X-COM prize to Atelier.

Anyone out there in the AGS community have any tips on fathering?

The fathering bit was pretty fun, as I recall.  It's the whole parenting thing that is draining.   

Congratulations!  And listen to Frito Master -soon nothing will be safe.  NOTHING!

Good entries all around.  Some real solid stuff this time: creative, yet captivating.  I really struggled with picking someone to vote for...

1) I liked how WHAM's steamy romance played on my earth-male's ability to become easily aroused
2) I liked how Stupot+'s study of the folly of codified rules appealed to my inner rebel (plus I liked the humour)
3) I liked how Chef! enhanced my understanding of why the world is so insane sometimes
4) I like Baron, because he's me
5) and I liked how Atelier's composition told a narrative larger than any one person by following sequential protagonists

So....  I think I'm going to have to vote for Atelier, not just because of his style and narrative approach, but because he probably hit the nail on the head when it comes to alien armageddon: if they're awesome enough to make it here in their fleet of mother-ships, they're probably awesome enough to wipe us out in an eye blink instead of dragging it out dramatically just long enough to have their carefully crafted plans foiled at the last minute.

Cherry Pie Eating Contest IV: Revenge of the Yuppies.

Nice milestone thingy! At this rate I'll get my thousand posts in 2021, when everyone will reminisce of the time they hit their tenth thousand posts.

You will with THAT attitude! 
As recently as 2010 I still had less than 400 posts (according to AGA's nifty milestone tracker), and an average post per day of something like 0.1.  But then I made a conscious effort to buckle down and burn up some server space!  Since then I've been doing about 250-300 per year: 0.7-0.8 per day, although my profile averages it out to only about 0.3 posts per day.  Yes, I do have a real sense of accomplishment now, and you can too if you follow my example.   

...caused me to play a few of your games.

kconan, I want you to know that I have begun to consider you as a son to me.  Not a real son, obviously, but more of a twisted, cigar-smoking, bow-tied and bemonocled puppy dog spawn that I can count on to avenge me if I were to meet an untimely demise .  I remember being really enthusiastic about making a historical game at one point.  Actually "Besieged" kind of grew out of that, until it evolved into the world's longest toilet joke (good times.... ).  I also started this (very incomplete) design doc for an adventure in the Roman Empire... but nothing ever came of it.  Oh well, you can't build 'em all....

Now start the next swarm or I'll have to draw monocles on all your posts until you do so!

I encourage you to draw monocles on all my posts!
As for swarming....  It was fun, it really was.  But man, it was time consuming!  If someone reliable volunteers to assemble the assets and code the game, I'd throw my hat in for the position of Project Facilitator. 

Let me take this opportunity to thank you for the Winter Rose, one of my favouritest AGS games ever.

Thanks!  Speaking of time consuming -all those hand painted backgrounds in TWR -man!  Where did I find all the time...?  I'm glad it was enjoyed, but I could have made that game so much better knowing what I know now. 

* Babar clanks his bigbluecup with Baron's monocled receptacle

Hey...!  Did you....  Did you just smash me in the face with your bigbluecup?!?

Zork?

Correctomundo.  Armageddon's turn!

      Allow an old hand to recollect the good old days for a bit....  It used to be AGS tradition that you couldn't start threads of no particular use or purpose in the general forum EXCEPT when the original post was the original poster's 1000th post.  Of course that was in the days before the subtle art of useless threads was cheapened by the advent of a Rumpus Room specifically for useless threads....  Nevertheless, being long in the tooth and something of an old fart I hereby claim this traditional right.
      I suppose some reminiscing is in order.  Over the years I've come to think of the AGS forums as my internet home, a place where I can go knocking if I need to borrow a pixelated cup of sugar or find someone to e-mail food to my cat when I'm away for more than a couple of days.  I don't always post frequently and am not often deeply involved in community issues, but know that I value this virtual neighbourhood deeply.  I guess I'm less the muffin-baking community booster and more of the creepy guy who's always got his eye through the curtain, keeping tabs on when you come and go and what kind of stuff you leave out in your trash bin.  But despite my introverted tendencies this place has always been friendly enough to lure me out of my shell.  Thanks for that guys.  There've been so many fond memories: MAGS comps, animation comps, writing comps, that time Ponch got bovine spongiform encephalopathy and was just spinning around on the floor for hours (good times....); the swarm project, that Mittens I attended, the community role-playing adventures, the avatar lovechild reunion.... and so many more.  Many thanks to my generous collaborators, my incessant PM correspondents, and all the rest of the cheerful folk who make this place fun to hang out in.
      Finally, in honour of this occasion, I've made you all a little something.  A new smiley: .  It means something around the lines of villainous cackle -use it wisely!
      Yeah, so....  Reply, won't ya?  Otherwise my useless thread would seem extra useless and probably end up demoted to the (*gulp*) R-board  .  Looking forward to the next thousand folks,

Baron

Meh, easy.  But it might trip up some of the kids around here.

The Straight Dope Invasion

   The president steeled himself.  Moments earlier, he had been debriefed by the Joints Chief of Staff.  A massive alien fleet consisting of some 30 spaceships had appeared in orbit over his country just an hour ago.  Now the admiral of that armada was requesting a video conference with him.  The Defence Secretary tapped the shoulder of an aide behind the camera and gave the president the thumbs up.  Moments later the massive screen in front of him flickered and there stood the most repulsive creature he had ever seen.  Its skin looked amphibian, although it oozed yellowish slime.  It's face reminded him of a llama, although it had mandibles and red glowing eyes.  And it had claw-tipped tentacles that it waved dismissively at the screen before speaking:
   â€œHey, it's Lars here.”
   The president was momentarily disarmed by the alien's casual tone and mid-western accent, but he swiftly recovered.  “Greetings Lars,” he said, “I'm the President of the United States of America.  My name is-”
   â€œYeah,” Lars cut him off.  “I don't wanna seem rude or anything, but we're going to try something a little different here.  Do you mind?”
   â€œI'm sorry?”
   â€œSee, we normally disguise ourselves to look like the peoples we contact through this complex, and painful -not to mention massively expensive â€" skin-grafting technique.  It's supposed to put you at ease so that we can conduct business without scaring the freaking stool right out of you.  Usually we make ourselves up to be long-lost space-vixens in need of succour and gentle caressing....”
   The president raised an eyebrow.
   â€œAnyway,” Lars continued, “the first contact is followed by this whole elaborate ritual, steeped in protocol and shuttle diplomacy.  We give gifts, show good-will, cure a couple high-profile types of inoperable diseases, yada, yada, yada, just to earn your trust.  Then through some sort of fringe resistance movement you uncover our true opprobrious intentions, work out our secret weakness and try to destroy us.  Much diminished in strength and numbers we limp off to try our luck at the next planet.
   â€œNow don't get ahead of me,” Lars moved his claw-tipped tentacle like a waving finger at the president.  “As I said, this time we're going to try something different.  No deception, no duplicity; not even the skimpy outfits that are all tease and no follow-through.  This time we're going to play it straight up and get right to the point.  Can you guys down there handle that?”
   The president nodded, words failing him.
   â€œOK, here's the deal-ee-o.  Our species is massively diminished and we need your species to help us reproduce.  No, it's nothing kinky,”  -again, with the waving claw - “We do all the actual mating between ourselves, thank you.  Well, except for Thak who seems to manage just fine on his own-”
   The president blinked as the transmission was momentarily disrupted.  A field of static lingered for a long, awkward moment before resolving again into Lars' gruesome visage, this time showing him in profile, apparently conversing with a fellow alien off screen.   â€œ-the dare had nothing to do with it!  We all agreed in the group sessions to try this honesty thing out.  Why then do you lock yourself in the defecation chamber for such long periods?!?”
   Some off-screen mumbles.
   â€œThat is not a denial!”
   More mumbles.
   â€œFine.  When you're captain you can air my dirty-laundry to the next -huh?”
   Yet more mumbles.
   â€œOh, hey, you're back.  Where were we?  Oh yeah, the,” -this time the tentacle waved around and around in a circle “-whole reproduction thing.  Right.  So we need a couple million volunteers to host our young until they can fend for themselves.  It's a relatively straightforward procedure.  We put you into this kinda quasi-conscious stasis while suspending you naked in a web of goo, and then our females ovulate as many fertilized eggs as possible right up your rectum."  Lars made a loop out of the end of his tentacle and peered through it towards the president.  "They are about so big, roughly the size of a monkey's skull.  It's kinda this evolutionary quirk our species has: the eggs have to be incubated for four to six weeks in the anal cavity of a mammalian creature.  No, our vast array of futuristic technology cannot adequately mimic the conditions of the fastness of your rectal chamber!  Anyway, after the incubation is complete the grubs hatch and slowly gnaw their way out.  Then you're free to go!  No apocalyptic war, no insidious infiltration of your society, no-”
   Again the mumbling off screen.
   â€œOh, yeah.  We'll also need a couple tons of lanolin ointment and a big bottle of aspirins.  But that's it!  Hey, if the ointment producers and the couple million egg-hosts just take one for the team, the rest of your planet can pretty much just pretend this whole first-contact thing never happened.  So whaddaya say?”
   The president drew himself up and calmly declined the offer.
   â€œWhat?  Just like that?!?  Was it the pitch?  Oh, I know what you're thinking:  we've been beat off by the last six planets and now we're desperate.  Damaged goods, you call us!  No one wants to host the parasitical offspring of a bunch of space-losers who've struck out more times than Gilbert Godfried-”
   The off-screen mumbling interrupts the tirade.
   â€œI said I'm not using that silly baseball analogy.  I mean, just look at the guy.  Listen to him, for heaven's sake!  Who could mate with that?!?  What?  What do you mean he has kids?!?  Man, this planet has lower standards than Sandra Bullock-”   
        Some more off-screen mumbling.
        "I stand by the analogy!"  Turning back to the president, Lars restrained his fury and spoke in a reasonable tone.  “Are you sure we can't work something out here?  I mean, maybe we can get the ointment and the aspirins at the next system up....?”
   The president shook his head defiantly.
   â€œFine!  Fine.  We have much to discuss in group session tonight.  End transmission!”
   The screen flickered to black and the generals announced that the fleet was leaving orbit.  There was a joyous eruption of applause from the assembled staff.  The president shook many hands, and made his way to the bar in the White House basement.  He needed a drink.  Maybe two....

   *      *      *      *      *      *      *

   â€œMr. President.”  The urgent shaking pulled him from his stupor.  “Mr. President!”
   He rubbed his eyes, then straightened his tie.  He must have passed out on the bar.  Around him his staff sprawled drunkenly over tables and on the floor.  Man, what a party!  The president tried to look grim and sober: “What is it, McConnel?”
   â€œMore aliens, sir!”
   The president grimaced.  Was that the booze creeping back up his throat, or just the revulsion he felt towards the slimy, amphibian monsters?
   The president took a quick drink of water, smoothed the wrinkles in his suit, and stood back in front of the camera.  The giant screen flickered to life.
   â€œGreetings, your majesty!” a saucy looking space-vixen said, curtseying.  As she did so the president couldn't help but notice that her skimpy outfit had a hard time containing her bountiful cleavage.  “We are a friendly race, but find ourselves in some distress at the moment.  We are in need of cuddles and strong hands to massage the tenseness out of our supple back muscles.  In exchange we offer the bounty of our technology and... our deepest gratitude!”
   The president smiled: this was more like it!  “Welcome to Earth,” he enthused.  The staff around him applauded once more.

Think similar characters might appear in a future Barn Runner game? 

One only gets so many opportunities to bust out the busty old classics, so here she is again:



C'mon Ponch....  Put her into a game!  Just DO it!

On the OT: Those are indeed some foxy ladies!