Single Status Update
After owning, pwning and generally being pwned on Doom 3 DM, I decided that my shenanigans should conclude and stuffing my face with Pringles should commence.
As I stepped out of the computor room my eyes met a troubling sight. Various plastic mechanical parts spread out on the floor. What the bloody hell have those little bastard pups destroyed now? I thought. The animal abusing rage building within me caused me to scream their names, my voice shaking the ferniture... or at least shaking me.
A pair of mid-sized Alsations slunk out of what I assumed was the kill zone. They ignored my 'Listen! Sit! SIT! Sit you bastards!' Then they slunk off to commit another atrocity.
I entered the room and beheld what they had unmade. A large ball of wet grey fur with a single white liberty spike on the pinnacle sitting on a black plastic base. It had triangular ears and was waggling them whilst humming, fizzing and buzzing with its back to me. Cautiosly I spun the tiny figure around. Where it's face would have been was a gaping hole, its plastic jaws and LEDs on wires were hanging out. Then it spoke to me;
Thing: Big *click* li-bzzzzz-t, gwar! Whoo-ooo-ooo! hmmmmmmmmm *click*
My hands tightened into fists. I knew what they had slaughtered. I hurled the wretched thing across the room, causing its mouth to break and various bits to fly out. (Greeemmmmmmm, me scared, bzzzzzzzzz.) I then ripped one of its ears and tied the creature to a handy nail by the front door. Then I marched over to those pups and broke out the tripe sticks. For they had ended that fucking Furby.
I am once again proud that these dogs are mine. Me, I would have taken the batteries out and hidden the damned thing, but they did what I have always dreamed of doing and ripped the little bastard's face out. As I type I can hear its voice decending into clicks and buzzs, the only recognisable sounds are the tunes of nursery rhymes and snoring, the rest sounds like a tape of random noises rewinding. It's Glorious!
Also if I hadn't given them the tripe sticks they'd have destroyed a Neil Diamond CD. Oh well, the intent was there, I'll just bury it under their food.
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I think being lost is the intended effect.
Indeed. For clarity; every Furby deserves torture and death. Their staring eyes...their merciless chatter... It's more than a man can bear, I tell you! Tripe Sticks are a smelly and presumably tasty reward. And that Niel Diamond CD is not mine.
But now that I've approved of one act of destruction they've destroyed two entire rooms. It's like playing terrorists, or something.
A small plastic shrubberry with foam base; seems to have exploded.
Diving goggles; mauled.
2 phones; Connection to network has been severed.
2 straw hats; mutilated.
1 picture frame; glass shattered.
A few shoes; soles destroyed.
2 picture frames, 1 fan and a computor chair; brutally knocked over.
An acre of shreaded wallpaper; spread evenly across every floor of our house.
Various other objects; gnawed upon, broken, invalidated.
And A Dyson who died in the middle of clearing the wallpaper and exploded shrubberry.
Several lessons have been learned here, mainly that the dogs know how to open pull doors with upturned handles.