The random Hal story written by me and you guys

[Loud&Clear]

Hal was too tired to care, so he left the window open, a nice breeze entering the room. When hal was about to drift into the land of dreams, the alarm clock decides to do it's job, and wake him up. Hal didn't care. But damn is the alarm clock irritating! With a clumsy sweep, he threw the alarm clock against a wall, breaking it to pieces. But the alarm kept going. It took hal some time, but he eventually realized it wasnt his alarm clock that was ringing. It was his phone.

"What the hell is it?" groaned hal to the telephone.
"is this hal?
"who else, god damnit? get it over with, i was slee-"
"I have been told you're the man i should talk with when people have... certain issues"


what happens next?

[dintbo(aka bosco)]

I got a little worried when this thread started, as these 'continue the story' threads tend to give rise to the greatest load of shite spam imaginable (three word story thread anyone???)

However, I've got to say to both Loud&Clear and Cwmagain, your writing is very good. Quite exceptional when you realise that English is not your first language. It makes me very jealous indeed as I can only speak English and I don't think I could write that well.

[d0n_th3_run_4ss4ss1n]

Poor bosco
You speak one of the nicest and most seldom spoken languages of the world really well instead: bandolinian.
But accordin to cwmagain and Loud&Clear I can only endorse you - I really enjoyed readin their stuff. And when you are able to do so as a "non-mother-tonguean" it´s even more incredible.
Good job there guys.

[Loud&Clear]

that's what you get when you're taught at school that all english speakers have perfect BBC accents and commit no grammar mistakes

then comes the internet, and jase saying "i doed you're mother last night"

also, why is it just me, cwmagain and hal contributing for the story? Your bandolin skills prove you're an artist bosco, give it a go!

(as should everyone else)

[Cwmagain]

aww you guys you're making me blush

[Cwmagain]

Allright lad, a quick one before I head to the pub to drink away me pain

Hal headed for the shower, still pondering about his nighttime call. Empty servers? Threats? It didn't make no goddamn sense. Then again, he hadn't logged on to Festers Place in quite some time now. Maybe he should see what this was all about...

The day passed, uneventful. No more eerie calls and creepy nightmares. Finally he worked up enough courage to boot up his laptop and start up TF2. Moments later, he had forgotten all about the calls.

"YEEEHAAAA!!!" *Boom* RATATATATA
It had been ages since he had enjoyed himself so much. The server haden't changed a bit. There was still Toco who Engi-turtled in some forgotten corner, There was still .Cwmagain who appeared out of nowhere behind an enemy regiment and backburned the lot of them. There was still Fester, who wielded the rocket launcher with the skill and aim of a surgeon with a scalpel. Hal played, Hal scored, Hal gamed and gamed until late in the night when suddenly, in a fraction of a second, everyone disappeared. Pressing TAB he still saw all their names, but ingame there was nobody to be found. The entire map was devoid of life, save for a single Tele entrance by Bbloke. After some fruitless attempt to communicate in voice chat, Hal entered the teleporter. And what he saw then would haunt him for the rest of his life.

[Doishy]

Before Hal could react to the sight someone leaped on him pinning him to the floor, his head hit the tele exit and he blacked out. He awoke in a dark room, a solitary spotlight glaring at him in the face. His head felt as it normally did after a night at festers, but without the satisfying pleasure of having drunk the night before.

A dark hooded man slowly shuffled into the light, a book in one hand, and a sandvich in the other, he slowly gazed at Hal and raised a crooked finger towards him muttering under his breath.
2 Small acolytes shuffled forward from the gloom and took hold of Hal's bound wrists and drag him to the floor so that he knelt before th figure.

The hood was slowly pulled down revealing....

[Loud&Clear]

A decrepid old face, which Hal would've guessed belonging to a corpse if he didn't knew it was ruairio.

"Hal, Hal, Hal... what a nice surprise!" Ruairio coughed a laugh "I would've never guessed you'd know about our little lounge room. Too bad you don't have security clearance to enter this place"
"Why? what will happen?" An useless question, because Hal knew the answer. Sometimes we put ourselves in situations whose outcome is predictable, but a single thread of hope makes us expect the unexpectable.
"We both know what will happen" Ruairio smiled "You will die a slow, painful de--"

It was in this moment that the door behind Ruairio burst open. BBloke quickly shot one of the acolytes in the head, the power of the shotgun leaving no trace that the acolyte ever had a head.

He reloaded his gun as the second acolyte rushed towards him

[MountieXXL]

..and tripped, critting himself on a rock that was randomly lying about.
Bbloke, unmoved by the extreme bad luck of the exploded alcolyte and dripping with blood and pieces of guts hanging from him, turned to Ruairio and said..

[Sharp Dagger]

I AM YOUR FATHER.