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limitbreakingcat Feb 15, 2009 5:37 PM
INSTEAD SHE RAN INTO A GANG OF ROVING HORSES. AMIRITE

....oh god
limitbreakingcat Feb 4, 2009 9:01 AM
Nyan likes dog rape stories, I guess.
limitbreakingcat Jan 17, 2009 5:57 PM
I............... see.
limitbreakingcat Jan 15, 2009 2:17 PM
Your lackadaisy response time triggers sadness in my heart, but I will accept a story about a banana bunch and poodle as compensation.

I eagerly await your reply.
Kuyu Jan 14, 2009 8:29 PM
DENDE BALLS
limitbreakingcat Jan 11, 2009 9:53 PM
NO RESPONSE EH
limitbreakingcat Jan 8, 2009 4:00 PM
I'd be happy to oblige. Here you go:



Once upon a time there was a young towel named Francisca. She was used to scrub and scrub a large mansion over and over, hating every day. Yet she knew that if she lost her purpose, she would be burned in a bin out back. So she endured every day, over and over, tasting the vilest of substances known to man. (Seriously, you don't wanna know.)

One day, a particular maid for this spotless mansion noticed that Francisca had obtained a stain. "Oh, this is useless now," she mumbled, to Francisca's dismay and terror. On the way to the bin to be burned, a shot suddenly resonated throughout the house. There was a scream, and the lights went out. Immediately after, a scuffle and a final "Uuuugnnn..." could be heard, followed by a heavy silence.

Morning came, and sunlight peered through the curtains to find Francisca seeped in a puddle of blood and semen. The maid was dead, of course, her clothes tattered to shreds. "This is bad," thought the towel. "Now I'm even dirtier and will be destroyed for sure!" The lady of the household walked in at that moment, and, upon witnessing the scene, screamed the most horrifying shriek that had ever penetrated the house's walls. The neighbors, a quarter mile down the road, were having a party in their "cottage" mansion and were still able to hear the ominous sound. So, putting down their martini glasses, they called the police.

Thirty minutes later, (not that it mattered to Francisca, because time doesn't really matter to towels) the police showed up. First they thoroughly photographed the scene, and then carefully inserted Francisca into a bag. If towels could shed tears instead of just dirty water, that bag would've been filled with the sorrowful tears of an unfortunate young towel. However, towels can't shed tears after all, so she just seeped a little of the blood and semen on the inside of the bag.

Eventually she was taken to a cold, dimly lit laboratory, and overheard several detectives and scientists discussing the case. "This is very important evidence!" they said while looking at Francisca in her bag. "I'm... important?" she thought. "I'm... special?" and for the first time in her life she was content, even while tasting a horrible irony/salty mixture that no towel should have to taste. Actually, nobody should ever have to taste that. Francisca was a pitiable towel for sure. Yet she carried on, through weeks and weeks of analysis and probing by various scientists.

They'd taken her picture countless times. She was a model! They'd analyzed her substances. She was helping the investigation! Francisca might have been the happiest towel ever at that point. The day finally came, months and months later, when she was to appear in court in a little jar. "Exhibit A," they'd called her. "Nobody has ever referred to me with a name before!" she smiled in a towely way.

A few weeks passed, and the trial had come to an end. Using the blood collected from Francisca, they convicted the lady of the household, who had dissociative identity disorder and, during one of her episodes, had raped and killed her maid in a fit of raging lesbian passion. At least, that was the verdict. "But I only love the master!" the maid had supposedly pleaded, intensifying the lady of the house's jealousy and exciting her sadistic lesbian tendencies. The master of the household, who had testified hearing thus, by the end of the proceedings was left with his jaw ajar, no doubt fantasizing about his wife and consort the night of the murder. Or something else. Francisca already knew he was a sleazeball, so she was only surprised that the lady was, well, less than ladylike. She'd always seemed so collected.

Francisca was happy to have made friends. Was it time to say goodbye? The trial was over, after all. She smiled to everyone through her jar. "Thanks, guys, for making me feel special," she whispered. She'd really been turned from rags to riches by this murder. Surely there was a good side to every story! She now saw the silver lining even in storm clouds. The next day she was thrown into a furnace for “old, unnecessary evidence.” "That thing was disgusting," a detective muttered.
limitbreakingcat Dec 31, 2008 1:44 PM
Holy crap, is the 0.0% bug catching?! Darn you tr1g!

Also.

Would you like to hear the sad tale of Francisca the towel?
limitbreakingcat Dec 31, 2008 1:24 PM
I WILL NEVER.
Inactivity Nov 24, 2008 5:28 AM
nah, it's all good. XD
Inactivity Nov 20, 2008 9:52 PM
your accurate use of commas is something i find quite irksome
Inactivity Nov 17, 2008 4:42 PM
O HI
Mac109 Sep 22, 2008 9:25 PM
I see!
limitbreakingcat Sep 13, 2008 11:26 AM
8D I win~
Purin Sep 4, 2008 1:38 AM
My apologies if my username irritates you in any way. I didn't mean to, and I don't think we've talked to each other before this. Ah yes, that song is awesome. And I have yet to listen to the Denpa version. Almost anyone can think that I'm an NHK fan. But I had this nick even before I knew Plrin existed.

I'd prefer you do this without violence, as I don't really like violence, unless it's anime. :D

Ah, hello there Nyanzaburo. It certainly is nice to meet someone like you. <: And you're a Honey & Clover fan, I see. I've yet to watch that series but alas, I am but a busy yet lazy girl. D:

I will watch NHK when I have the time too, which I currently don't have. Thank you for reminding me. (:

P.S. Um, on a scale of 1-10 (1 being the least scary and 10 being the most) I'd say I was frightened to a scale of 8/10. Good job. You really got my hairs stand on ends for a while there. Though I suggest you use more spine-chilling words to score a perfect 10. Don't mind me, it's just my opinion. :D
It’s time to ditch the text file.
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