COUNTRISING: Bwahahahahahaha! You are doomed Genie. Doomed! You are piloting your Chat into a deadly trap and even you will not suspect until it's too late. Bwahahahahahaha!
GENIE: You know, if you're going to spy on me you really should log off.
COUNTRISING: My dear Genie, after our many years of conflict I wished you to know that your certain banning is now certain! Bwahahahahahaha! But even you will not suspect that your destruction awaits you on the Rate Time Heist Article!
GENIE: You only closed your PMs, I'm afraid. I can still see your comments.
COUNTRISING: I know that. Of course I know that. Curse you!
GENIE: I wanted to talk to you anyway. I have some news that even you need to hear. Meet me on the Daily Mail site in two hours, relative time. And do try not to be late.
COUNTRISING: Mock me while you may, Genie. My revenge will be all the sweeter. And it will be a deadly vengeance. It will be the deadly vengeance of deadly revenge! Bwahahahahahaha!
TARDISBOY: Where are we, Genie?
GENIE: The Daily Mail, once home to the News misreaders, the most noisy and attention loving people I've ever encountered. And yet one of the most shunned and abhorred of all history.
TARDISBOY: Why?
GENIE: They could communicate only by precisely modulated false information.
TARDISBOY: Oh no. Site of the rubbish talkers? So what happened to them?
GENIE: They discovered constructive criticism.
TARDISBOY: Oh.
COUNTRISING: Bwahahahahahaha! No doubt because no one has set foot on this site for a hundred years, you thought you had escaped my traps of death. But you forget, Genie, I too have a chat. When you told me to meet you on the Daily Mail, I simply travelled back in time a hundred years and I bribed the moderator. Say hello to the dislikes of doom!
GENIE: Say hello to the likes of reasonable comfort. Naturally I anticipated your journey back in time, and so I travelled slightly further back and bribed the moderator first.
COUNTRISING: Or so you think! Naturally I anticipated your travelling back in time, so I travelled back to an even further point. And I bribed the moderator first.
*The Genie and TardisBoy have been banned*
*The Genie and TardisBoy logged in*
GENIE: Well, naturally I anticipated your journey back in time to an even earlier point
TARDISBOY: Genie, will you stop showing off. You've got something to tell CountRising. Just tell him.
GENIE: Very well. I recently calculated that I have saved every site in the known domains a minimum number of twenty seven times. But you know, I have grown weary of all the evil on the internet. All the cruelty, all the suffering, all those endless RTD vs Moffat debates. And so I have decided to retire, settle down and get married.
COUNTRISING: What?
GENIE: Yes. Without even knowing I was looking, I have found a commenter to love. A commenter more fascinating than all my travels through discussion and font. A boy more exciting than an escape from a deteriorating debate. A friend more thrilling than an army of basement dwelling fanboys.
COUNTRISING: Sadly, Genie, I am unable to wish you a long and happy marriage, because the moment I am done with this nauseating conversation, I shall travel back in time once more and buy the moderator an expensive dinner and suggests that he puts a button just here and a redirect leading to the vast and disgusting comment archives of The Daily Mail, exactly there! Prepare for five hundred pages of fear and pointless debates! Goodbye forever, Mister and Mrs Genie!
COUNTRISING REDIRECTED
GENIE: Since you appear to have been redirected, you won't be able to have dinner with the moderator. Although, in fact he's already eaten, because I had dinner with him and suggested he place the redirect right here. Come along, my dear.
COUNTRISING: Not so fast!
TARDISBOY: How can he be here? He just got redirected! And why's he so much older?
COUNTRISING: Because it's taken me three hundred and twelve years to climb out of those archives!
GENIE: And then naturally you found your Chat and travelled back in time to the present day, no doubt to wreak one of your terrible revenge things.
COUNTRISING: Yes. But this time I did not come alone. After three centuries of having gone through those archives, only the Trolls would accompany me, because only the Trolls don't have standards.
TROLL: So, Genie, we meet again.
GENIE: Yes. How are things?
COUNTRISING: Observe, Genie. I am no longer merely a Limbo Lord. My body has been augmented by superior Troll technology.
*CountRising changed his hashtag to red*
TARDISBOY: So what can you do with that then?
COUNTRISING: What?
TARDISBOY: You don't know, do you?
TROLLS: Spam! Spam! Spam!
COUNTRISING: Stop! No! After three hundred and twelve years of climbing through the biggest and most disgusting archives on the internet, after three centuries of wading through those vast lengthy debates, climbing those huge lengthy rants, after a lifetime of only dung trolls for commetning and the occasional company on those long, lonely nights. After all that, I'm going to spam the Genie myself, with my own bare hands! Die Genie, die!
COUNTRISING REDIRECTED
GENIE: Don't worry, I believe he knows the way out.
COUNTRISING: Six hundred and twenty four years in a blooming archive.
GENIE: This way!
COUNTRISING: After them, you fools! Get them!
COUNTRISING REDICRECTED
COUNTRISING: Nine hundred and thirty six years in an archive. Wait for me! Wait for me!
TARDISBOY: Genie, these links all look the same.
GENIE: We should be safe in here.
DALEKS: Spam! Spam!
TARDISBOY: So, given that spamming you would be the most sensible thing to do, why do they always change their minds at the last moment?
GENIE: I'll explain later.
COUNTRISING: Behold! Once again I have been augmented by superior troll technology, rejuvenating my account and granting me more power over the internet.
GENIE: And, I notice, breasts.
COUNTRISING: They’re not breasts, okay? They're Troll pics. They can detect positive thoughts and operate as pleasant discussion locators at a distance of up to twenty thousand light years. They're also extremely constant.
TARDISBOY: What are you trying to say?
COUNTRISING: Oh, nothing.
GENIE: Why are the Trolls helping you? What are you giving them in return?
COUNTRISING: I have granted them secrets of the Zectronic Energy Beam.
GENIE: Oh no, you fool. With the Zectronic Energy Beam the Trolls will be able to conquer the entire internet within minutes.
TARDISBOY: With just a beam? How?
GENIE: I'll explain later.
TROLL: Prepare to operate the Zectronic Beam in five Troll minutes.
COUNTRISING: I obey.
GENIE: You may conquer the universe but you'll have to share it with the Hannibal and the Cannibal over there.
TROLL: CountRising will be spammed when he has served his purpose.
GENIE: Psst. If CountRising knew that the Trolls intend to spam him he might help us.
TARDISBOY: How are you going to tell him without the Trolls hearing? They'll spam you on the spot if you say anything. I think we've really had it this time.
GENIE: Don't cancel our wedding yet, my darling. There's just one thing you've forgotten.
TARDISBOY: What?
GENIE: Trolls don't have standards.
TARDISBOY: Scraping the barrel a bit there, aren't you?
GENIE: Think my dear. Back on The Daily Mail, CountRising and I both bribed the Moderator. Not only do I speak perfect idiot, but so does he.
TARDISBOY: You mean?
GENIE: Yes. I can communicate with CountRising by carefully controlled bursts of stupidity.
TARDISBOY: Could I be linked to a different chat?
TROLL 2: Silence.
TARDISBOY: Why do you have chats on a Troll forum anyway?
DALEK: We will explain later.
GENIE: “He has plans for my bum” – Admin 2014.
COUNTRISING: Danger?
GENIE: “Some games can be played on an Playstation 360” – The Time Traveller 2014
COUNTRISING: You are facing certain doob. Certain doob?
TARDISBOY: Try not to make typos.
GENIE: “Pictures of Food”
TARDISBOY: Ndnuefheugb
COUNTRISING: The Trolls are planning to spam you as soon as you twiddley heepy jeepy
TARDISBOY: Sorry, that was me.
TROLL: Cease this communication!
TROLL 2: You have betrayed the Trolls!
TROLLS: Spam! Spam!
COUNTRISING: You fools! This Zectronic Beam Controller will now not only explode, it will implode. We're doomed.
DALEK: Repair the Zectronic Beam!
COUNTRISING: It is beyond my ability. Only the Genie can do it.
TARDISBOY: Help him, he's leaving. Yes, my darling?
GENIE: “*comes*” –Admin 2014
COUNTRISING: He, er, he says I love you.
TARDISBOY: Oh Genie. You've banned him!
COUNTRISING: I think not my child. This is only one commenter. There are many, many more. Behold, the miracle of the Limbo Lord!
MARK MCCULLOUGH: Oh, sorry about that. I just thought I'd slip into something more comfortable. Result? Cute, sexy and lick-the-mirror handsome. I remember you, don't I?
COUNTRISING: And you still fear me, Genie?
MARK MCCULLOUGH: You're the camp one.
COUNTRISING: I'm not camp. Admin’s the camp one.
MARK MCCULLOUGH: Oh, yeah? Nice Disney Avatar.
COUNTRISING: Troll pic.
MARK MCCULLOUGH: I remember you lot, of course. And, er, you're my friend?
TARDISBOY: You remember me then?
MARK MCCULLOUGH: How could I possibly forget the only chat friends I've ever had?
TARDISBOY: You've had lots of friends.
MARK MCCULLOUGH: The only chat BEST friend.
TARDISBOY: Oh, right.
MARK MCCULLOUGH: It's still me in here, TardisBoy. These old hearts are still yours. Can you still love me even though I’m a different commenter?
TARDISBOY: Actually I don't think I'll have to much of a problem with that. Back to the Chat?
TROLL: The Zectronic Beam Controller is going to explode.
TROLL 2: Help us, Mark, and your life will be spared.
MARK MCCULLOUGH: What better way to end my career than saving you gits? Pop into the Chat, get a bottle of good champagne. When you get out we'll celebrate the beginning of our new life together.
TARDISBOY: Great.
MARK MCCULLOUGH: I think in my new account I'm going to be particularly good at coding.
CHRIS: Oh, poo.
TARDISBOY: Chris?
CHRIS: Ah. You're my friend aren't you? Oh, dear. Seem to be a bit shy of happy people now. All the problems of changing personas. So unpredictable.
TARDISBOY: Chris, look at me.
CHRIS: In a minute. Oh dear, another happy person.
COUNTRISING: I'm not gay, Chris, I've told you before. These are Troll pics. They can locate pleasant discussions and everything.
TARDISBOY: So, er, you don't want to try again, do you?
CHRIS: Probably not a bad idea, actually. Shouldn't be too much of a problem. Actually, I think the problem's probably located in this area.
TARDISBOY: Result!
ADMIN: Oh dear, now look at that. I've gone and used up three accounts in just under a minute, and all because I forgot to unplug first. That really was terribly silly of me. Sorry about that, my dear. Bit unfortunate.
TARDISBOY: Oh, Admin.
ADMIN: Oh, TB.
TARDISBOY: Admin!
ADMIN: Residual energy. I'm a stupid ass, I should have realised.
TROLL: Admin has saved the Trolls. His account will be spared.
COUNTRISING: No, his account is already lost. That was a discharge of pure Zectronic Energy. Even a Limbo Lord cannot survive its terrible power.
TARDISBOY: But he can just change again, can't you, Admin?
ADMIN: I'm afraid not, my dear. Zectronic Energy too powerful. It has destroyed my ability to regenerate. I'm afraid this is the end. Look after the internet for me. I've put a lot of work into it.
TARDISBOY: But how can we look after it without you?
ADMIN: I'll explain
TARDISBOY: Admin, listen to me. You can't leave, you're too, You're too nice, too camp, too kind and far, far too silly. You're like Father Christmas, the Wizard of Oz, Scooby Doo. And I’m your friend. And we all need you, and you simply cannot leave.
COUNTRISING: He was the best and campest of all my foes. From this day forward I will renounce evil and follow the path of goodness to honour my fallen foe.
TROLL: Admin saved the Trolls. The Trolls too will honour their mortal enemy.
TARDISBOY: He was never straight and never not irritating, and it'll never be safe to be scared again.
COUNTRISING: It's impossible! Beyond all known laws of the universe.
TARDISBOY: Maybe even the internet can't bear to be without a DWTV commenter.
THE ONCOMING HURRICANE: TardisBoy, look. I've got pleasant discussion locators.
TARDISBOY: No, The Oncoming Hurricane. I'm afraid those are actually breasts.
THE ONCOMING HURRICANE: Are you sure? I think I can see the on switch.
TARDISBOY: No, The Oncoming Hurricane, we have to face facts. You've come back to chat and this time you're a woman.
THE ONCOMING HURRICANE: Really? I've always wanted to get my hands on one of these.
TARDISBOY: Unfortunately, I haven't.
THE ONCOMING HURRICANE: You're mother's going to get a bit of a surprise at the wedding, isn't she? Do you think we'll both wear white?
TARDISBOY: I'm afraid, The Oncoming Hurricane, and I'm not sure if this sentence has ever been used so completely accurately before but, you're just not the man I fell in love with.
THE ONCOMING HURRICANE: Well, never mind. We can still rattle around the internet, fighting trolls and saving sites. What could be more fun? My best friend by my side, my trusty old chat and, of course, my tumblr dashboard.
THE ONCOMING HURRICANE: Ooo look, it's got new features.
TARDISBOY: The Oncoming Hurricane, stop that!
COUNTRISING: The Oncoming Hurricane, I have to say you are rather gorgeous.
THE ONCOMING HURRICANE: I'm not bad, am I? And come to think of it, you're a great deal more interesting than I remember.
COUNTRISING: Why, thank you.
THE ONCOMING HURRICANE: Tell me, why do they call you CountRising?
COUNTRISING: I'll explain later.
GENIE: You know, if you're going to spy on me you really should log off.
COUNTRISING: My dear Genie, after our many years of conflict I wished you to know that your certain banning is now certain! Bwahahahahahaha! But even you will not suspect that your destruction awaits you on the Rate Time Heist Article!
GENIE: You only closed your PMs, I'm afraid. I can still see your comments.
COUNTRISING: I know that. Of course I know that. Curse you!
GENIE: I wanted to talk to you anyway. I have some news that even you need to hear. Meet me on the Daily Mail site in two hours, relative time. And do try not to be late.
COUNTRISING: Mock me while you may, Genie. My revenge will be all the sweeter. And it will be a deadly vengeance. It will be the deadly vengeance of deadly revenge! Bwahahahahahaha!
TARDISBOY: Where are we, Genie?
GENIE: The Daily Mail, once home to the News misreaders, the most noisy and attention loving people I've ever encountered. And yet one of the most shunned and abhorred of all history.
TARDISBOY: Why?
GENIE: They could communicate only by precisely modulated false information.
TARDISBOY: Oh no. Site of the rubbish talkers? So what happened to them?
GENIE: They discovered constructive criticism.
TARDISBOY: Oh.
COUNTRISING: Bwahahahahahaha! No doubt because no one has set foot on this site for a hundred years, you thought you had escaped my traps of death. But you forget, Genie, I too have a chat. When you told me to meet you on the Daily Mail, I simply travelled back in time a hundred years and I bribed the moderator. Say hello to the dislikes of doom!
GENIE: Say hello to the likes of reasonable comfort. Naturally I anticipated your journey back in time, and so I travelled slightly further back and bribed the moderator first.
COUNTRISING: Or so you think! Naturally I anticipated your travelling back in time, so I travelled back to an even further point. And I bribed the moderator first.
*The Genie and TardisBoy have been banned*
*The Genie and TardisBoy logged in*
GENIE: Well, naturally I anticipated your journey back in time to an even earlier point
TARDISBOY: Genie, will you stop showing off. You've got something to tell CountRising. Just tell him.
GENIE: Very well. I recently calculated that I have saved every site in the known domains a minimum number of twenty seven times. But you know, I have grown weary of all the evil on the internet. All the cruelty, all the suffering, all those endless RTD vs Moffat debates. And so I have decided to retire, settle down and get married.
COUNTRISING: What?
GENIE: Yes. Without even knowing I was looking, I have found a commenter to love. A commenter more fascinating than all my travels through discussion and font. A boy more exciting than an escape from a deteriorating debate. A friend more thrilling than an army of basement dwelling fanboys.
COUNTRISING: Sadly, Genie, I am unable to wish you a long and happy marriage, because the moment I am done with this nauseating conversation, I shall travel back in time once more and buy the moderator an expensive dinner and suggests that he puts a button just here and a redirect leading to the vast and disgusting comment archives of The Daily Mail, exactly there! Prepare for five hundred pages of fear and pointless debates! Goodbye forever, Mister and Mrs Genie!
COUNTRISING REDIRECTED
GENIE: Since you appear to have been redirected, you won't be able to have dinner with the moderator. Although, in fact he's already eaten, because I had dinner with him and suggested he place the redirect right here. Come along, my dear.
COUNTRISING: Not so fast!
TARDISBOY: How can he be here? He just got redirected! And why's he so much older?
COUNTRISING: Because it's taken me three hundred and twelve years to climb out of those archives!
GENIE: And then naturally you found your Chat and travelled back in time to the present day, no doubt to wreak one of your terrible revenge things.
COUNTRISING: Yes. But this time I did not come alone. After three centuries of having gone through those archives, only the Trolls would accompany me, because only the Trolls don't have standards.
TROLL: So, Genie, we meet again.
GENIE: Yes. How are things?
COUNTRISING: Observe, Genie. I am no longer merely a Limbo Lord. My body has been augmented by superior Troll technology.
*CountRising changed his hashtag to red*
TARDISBOY: So what can you do with that then?
COUNTRISING: What?
TARDISBOY: You don't know, do you?
TROLLS: Spam! Spam! Spam!
COUNTRISING: Stop! No! After three hundred and twelve years of climbing through the biggest and most disgusting archives on the internet, after three centuries of wading through those vast lengthy debates, climbing those huge lengthy rants, after a lifetime of only dung trolls for commetning and the occasional company on those long, lonely nights. After all that, I'm going to spam the Genie myself, with my own bare hands! Die Genie, die!
COUNTRISING REDIRECTED
GENIE: Don't worry, I believe he knows the way out.
COUNTRISING: Six hundred and twenty four years in a blooming archive.
GENIE: This way!
COUNTRISING: After them, you fools! Get them!
COUNTRISING REDICRECTED
COUNTRISING: Nine hundred and thirty six years in an archive. Wait for me! Wait for me!
TARDISBOY: Genie, these links all look the same.
GENIE: We should be safe in here.
DALEKS: Spam! Spam!
TARDISBOY: So, given that spamming you would be the most sensible thing to do, why do they always change their minds at the last moment?
GENIE: I'll explain later.
COUNTRISING: Behold! Once again I have been augmented by superior troll technology, rejuvenating my account and granting me more power over the internet.
GENIE: And, I notice, breasts.
COUNTRISING: They’re not breasts, okay? They're Troll pics. They can detect positive thoughts and operate as pleasant discussion locators at a distance of up to twenty thousand light years. They're also extremely constant.
TARDISBOY: What are you trying to say?
COUNTRISING: Oh, nothing.
GENIE: Why are the Trolls helping you? What are you giving them in return?
COUNTRISING: I have granted them secrets of the Zectronic Energy Beam.
GENIE: Oh no, you fool. With the Zectronic Energy Beam the Trolls will be able to conquer the entire internet within minutes.
TARDISBOY: With just a beam? How?
GENIE: I'll explain later.
TROLL: Prepare to operate the Zectronic Beam in five Troll minutes.
COUNTRISING: I obey.
GENIE: You may conquer the universe but you'll have to share it with the Hannibal and the Cannibal over there.
TROLL: CountRising will be spammed when he has served his purpose.
GENIE: Psst. If CountRising knew that the Trolls intend to spam him he might help us.
TARDISBOY: How are you going to tell him without the Trolls hearing? They'll spam you on the spot if you say anything. I think we've really had it this time.
GENIE: Don't cancel our wedding yet, my darling. There's just one thing you've forgotten.
TARDISBOY: What?
GENIE: Trolls don't have standards.
TARDISBOY: Scraping the barrel a bit there, aren't you?
GENIE: Think my dear. Back on The Daily Mail, CountRising and I both bribed the Moderator. Not only do I speak perfect idiot, but so does he.
TARDISBOY: You mean?
GENIE: Yes. I can communicate with CountRising by carefully controlled bursts of stupidity.
TARDISBOY: Could I be linked to a different chat?
TROLL 2: Silence.
TARDISBOY: Why do you have chats on a Troll forum anyway?
DALEK: We will explain later.
GENIE: “He has plans for my bum” – Admin 2014.
COUNTRISING: Danger?
GENIE: “Some games can be played on an Playstation 360” – The Time Traveller 2014
COUNTRISING: You are facing certain doob. Certain doob?
TARDISBOY: Try not to make typos.
GENIE: “Pictures of Food”
TARDISBOY: Ndnuefheugb
COUNTRISING: The Trolls are planning to spam you as soon as you twiddley heepy jeepy
TARDISBOY: Sorry, that was me.
TROLL: Cease this communication!
TROLL 2: You have betrayed the Trolls!
TROLLS: Spam! Spam!
COUNTRISING: You fools! This Zectronic Beam Controller will now not only explode, it will implode. We're doomed.
DALEK: Repair the Zectronic Beam!
COUNTRISING: It is beyond my ability. Only the Genie can do it.
TARDISBOY: Help him, he's leaving. Yes, my darling?
GENIE: “*comes*” –Admin 2014
COUNTRISING: He, er, he says I love you.
TARDISBOY: Oh Genie. You've banned him!
COUNTRISING: I think not my child. This is only one commenter. There are many, many more. Behold, the miracle of the Limbo Lord!
MARK MCCULLOUGH: Oh, sorry about that. I just thought I'd slip into something more comfortable. Result? Cute, sexy and lick-the-mirror handsome. I remember you, don't I?
COUNTRISING: And you still fear me, Genie?
MARK MCCULLOUGH: You're the camp one.
COUNTRISING: I'm not camp. Admin’s the camp one.
MARK MCCULLOUGH: Oh, yeah? Nice Disney Avatar.
COUNTRISING: Troll pic.
MARK MCCULLOUGH: I remember you lot, of course. And, er, you're my friend?
TARDISBOY: You remember me then?
MARK MCCULLOUGH: How could I possibly forget the only chat friends I've ever had?
TARDISBOY: You've had lots of friends.
MARK MCCULLOUGH: The only chat BEST friend.
TARDISBOY: Oh, right.
MARK MCCULLOUGH: It's still me in here, TardisBoy. These old hearts are still yours. Can you still love me even though I’m a different commenter?
TARDISBOY: Actually I don't think I'll have to much of a problem with that. Back to the Chat?
TROLL: The Zectronic Beam Controller is going to explode.
TROLL 2: Help us, Mark, and your life will be spared.
MARK MCCULLOUGH: What better way to end my career than saving you gits? Pop into the Chat, get a bottle of good champagne. When you get out we'll celebrate the beginning of our new life together.
TARDISBOY: Great.
MARK MCCULLOUGH: I think in my new account I'm going to be particularly good at coding.
CHRIS: Oh, poo.
TARDISBOY: Chris?
CHRIS: Ah. You're my friend aren't you? Oh, dear. Seem to be a bit shy of happy people now. All the problems of changing personas. So unpredictable.
TARDISBOY: Chris, look at me.
CHRIS: In a minute. Oh dear, another happy person.
COUNTRISING: I'm not gay, Chris, I've told you before. These are Troll pics. They can locate pleasant discussions and everything.
TARDISBOY: So, er, you don't want to try again, do you?
CHRIS: Probably not a bad idea, actually. Shouldn't be too much of a problem. Actually, I think the problem's probably located in this area.
TARDISBOY: Result!
ADMIN: Oh dear, now look at that. I've gone and used up three accounts in just under a minute, and all because I forgot to unplug first. That really was terribly silly of me. Sorry about that, my dear. Bit unfortunate.
TARDISBOY: Oh, Admin.
ADMIN: Oh, TB.
TARDISBOY: Admin!
ADMIN: Residual energy. I'm a stupid ass, I should have realised.
TROLL: Admin has saved the Trolls. His account will be spared.
COUNTRISING: No, his account is already lost. That was a discharge of pure Zectronic Energy. Even a Limbo Lord cannot survive its terrible power.
TARDISBOY: But he can just change again, can't you, Admin?
ADMIN: I'm afraid not, my dear. Zectronic Energy too powerful. It has destroyed my ability to regenerate. I'm afraid this is the end. Look after the internet for me. I've put a lot of work into it.
TARDISBOY: But how can we look after it without you?
ADMIN: I'll explain
TARDISBOY: Admin, listen to me. You can't leave, you're too, You're too nice, too camp, too kind and far, far too silly. You're like Father Christmas, the Wizard of Oz, Scooby Doo. And I’m your friend. And we all need you, and you simply cannot leave.
COUNTRISING: He was the best and campest of all my foes. From this day forward I will renounce evil and follow the path of goodness to honour my fallen foe.
TROLL: Admin saved the Trolls. The Trolls too will honour their mortal enemy.
TARDISBOY: He was never straight and never not irritating, and it'll never be safe to be scared again.
COUNTRISING: It's impossible! Beyond all known laws of the universe.
TARDISBOY: Maybe even the internet can't bear to be without a DWTV commenter.
THE ONCOMING HURRICANE: TardisBoy, look. I've got pleasant discussion locators.
TARDISBOY: No, The Oncoming Hurricane. I'm afraid those are actually breasts.
THE ONCOMING HURRICANE: Are you sure? I think I can see the on switch.
TARDISBOY: No, The Oncoming Hurricane, we have to face facts. You've come back to chat and this time you're a woman.
THE ONCOMING HURRICANE: Really? I've always wanted to get my hands on one of these.
TARDISBOY: Unfortunately, I haven't.
THE ONCOMING HURRICANE: You're mother's going to get a bit of a surprise at the wedding, isn't she? Do you think we'll both wear white?
TARDISBOY: I'm afraid, The Oncoming Hurricane, and I'm not sure if this sentence has ever been used so completely accurately before but, you're just not the man I fell in love with.
THE ONCOMING HURRICANE: Well, never mind. We can still rattle around the internet, fighting trolls and saving sites. What could be more fun? My best friend by my side, my trusty old chat and, of course, my tumblr dashboard.
THE ONCOMING HURRICANE: Ooo look, it's got new features.
TARDISBOY: The Oncoming Hurricane, stop that!
COUNTRISING: The Oncoming Hurricane, I have to say you are rather gorgeous.
THE ONCOMING HURRICANE: I'm not bad, am I? And come to think of it, you're a great deal more interesting than I remember.
COUNTRISING: Why, thank you.
THE ONCOMING HURRICANE: Tell me, why do they call you CountRising?
COUNTRISING: I'll explain later.