On his break, Jafhar goes for a cigarette and ponders what he will do when he goes home after a long day at work.
He has spent a long morning removing the bums from the crates, in an attempt to stop all the goods from miraculously disappearing and now that it seems most of the hobo's are either gone or are in hiding he may safely take a break.

He mutters to himself "Fuck this shit, the missus is gunna be in a fucking dicky mood coz' the shitty little fucking boss o' mine fucking dropped me pay"

Flummox walks outside and spies Jafhar taking a smoke break!
He isn't supposed to be doing that... he ought to be docked at least a day's wages!
Flummox strikes a dramatic pose (they make everything, well, more dramatic)!
"YOU THERE!" he shouts at Jafhar. "WHY AREN'T YOU WORKING?! I OUGHT TO PENALIZE YOU, I SHOULD!"

Jafhar turns his head slowly towards his boss, Fulmmox; Fulmmox has a ruthless nickname unmentionable in public because the secret hidden within his nickname would burst out and destroy those of whom said it.

He is obviously angry, but thinks better of the situation "Works done, hobo's are hiding and shit not getting stolen"

Then he immediately thinks of what impact this could have on his family, namely him - due to the fact that his wife will abuse him if he comes home without any money.

"But i fucking dare you to fucking take this fuckin' days pay you fucking worthless peice of good for nothing fucking fucker of sheep"
He yells in a sudden burst, as if merged into one whole word (you try do it, I can't).

"Alright Jafhar, that's the last straw! You're fired, and you won't be getting paid ever again! In fact, I'll make sure you never get another job! I'll come over there and fire you myself, so I will!"
Foulmmox is getting pretty angry now that his name has been soiled in public!
"I'm coming to get you Jafhar! now where's the goddamn ladder on this thing"
"OOOOOHHHH SHIII - whose idea was this"

Jafhar flicks his cigarette off the ledge, puts his handibles in his pockets and strolls towards the edge of the container he stands on currently.
He watches his boss plummet off the edge of container, although he is not at all surprised by the act as Foulmmox does this regularly, He is a forgetful old chap.

"ahahahahahahahhahahaahah, There's a ledge there you FAT NASTY TRASH."

He excitedly waits for his boss to plummet through the hole in the ground below, but it seems that it is taking an unnaturally long time.

Foulmoux crashes through both of the wooden platforms and lands gloriously.
What's not so glorious is that a flaming pot is about to fall on his head.

Behind him, jafhar hears a loud, popping noise, one of a small explosion with glass shattering.
Then a larger, closer explosion, then another, much larger explosion from near beneath him, the fire roared from behind him and the crate he was standing on started to lean forward tremendously.



So he ran and jumped, with another explosion with fire pushing it's way out from beneath him, he started flying a tremendous distance, maybe even landing in that hole where 'hewhocannotbenamed' is currently spelunking in.

"Gosh darn it" He mutters to himself, "How the fuck did that happen?"
Any sound is drowned away by the deafening explosions, so you didn't hear that, he just communicates telepathically with the audience.


OOC: also, sorry for all the effects, but it looks cool and I put in some  :effort: , You might not want to make a turn now lol.

The explosions pass quickly.
The little that remains of the small room is left burnt and smoldering, ashes and smoke from the now airborne container leaving thick and dirty trails through the air. Small fires still burn in pockets, isolated and dying.
Jafhar continues to fly through the air.
Foulmouth stands up, his suit flaming from the can. But he does not notice. No, it is time to find that bastard Jafhar and make him pay.

Jafhar continues his explosion propelled leap from his perch towards the hole inhabited by Foulmouth, although it seems he underestimated his trajectory.
He starts to flip midair and roll forward, dodging the crate as it comes near his right leg, here he has a brief 2 second view of foulmouth, currently more hot-headed than ever."HAHAHA" he bellows as if he made the comedic joke of the century "I made a funny"

He also picked up, halfway through the fall, that his cigarette must have been a dominant factor in the development of this explosive phenomena.

Long, long ago…
There was a great empire.


The box lands with a heavy thud, crushing a metal barrel and a wooden crate. Sludge drips from its idle form.

It was the greatest nation the earth had known and has yet to know.
The world had known an age of enlightenment. The empire's citizens almost swam in knowledge.


But it seems the series of explosions is not over -- another one rocks the box, tearing its lid from its body and twisting the metal into curious shapes.

Their magic and their science blended and mixed to form wonders far greater than the sum of their two parts.


That one has just begun to subside when another tears through the end.

But one day something changed.
The empire slid into chaos.
It couldn't have been solely the fault of the emperor, though he was incompetent.


Debris flies everywhere as the explosions cool.

Some searched for years for an explanation.




After a decade had gone by, the empire had collapsed entirely.
Its currency was worthless.
Its marvels were toppled.



Another tears through the midsection of the crate, detaching a sizable section.

But then the cause was found.
A single man was to blame.


The severed half of the crate slides down into the pit.

He had destroyed the empire from within.
He exuded a certain influence that caused chaos, a certain aura that drove people to cheat and kill and steal.
A man with an unspeakable nickname.


Something huge leaps out of the crate. Perhaps the explosions had another cause...
It's ancient, but it appears to be new -- a not-quite-seamless mix of robotics, biotechnology, and magic.

The survivors of the empire hid their last remaining weapons. They fled their once great city and slid into obscurity among the outsiders. They made themselves immortal using their science and their magic. They have waited, all this time, disguising themselves among the world's homeless.
They have made themselves hobos, and they have waited for this moment.
The moment in which they will revive their mighty empire and take revenge on the one who brought it down.



Hobos rush onto the stage, armed and ready. They are accompanied by more relics of an older age, unearthed and armed for their last battle.

The abomination that leapt out of the crate lands on the pile of rubble. It raises its head and it screams.

Foulmouth explodes into flame, his figure charring and blackening. His anger has reached its summit. He can't see what is going on above, but he knows something is happening. Something big. And he knows Jafhar hasn't been doing his job.

"JAFHAR!"

This is the final stand.

Oh now that, was a mistake.


Jafhar in all of his legandaryness clambers up into the crate he fly's past.


He clambers up with a back flip of course!



Just very recently...

The earth had come in contact with interplanetary forces, or aliens, if you will.


Jafhar begins to pull up his sleeve.

And, for their own defense, the plumbers appeared.

One plumber, by the name of Jafhar, used an unquestionably powerful weapon, The Omnitrix!


A bulky green watch appears hidden under his sleeve.




Jafhar starts to float in midair, and a bright green glow is emitted from him.
He starts to drip furiously, melt, turn to liquid, untill.



A PUDDLE!

Jafhar has been in hiding, hiding from the plumbers.

He is a conscript, in their army, forcefully enforcing fateful physical force to foes.

The Omnitrix alerts them to his location upon use.

The monstrous creature leaps aside just in time to avoid an explosive entrance by a flaming entity --

"That must be Foulmouth," whispers one of the hobos to his companion. His voice is tainted with awe as he stares up at their age-old nemesis.

Foulmouth's fiery personality shows itself again as he screams,

"JAFHAR!"

[size=8pt]"where is that fool"

Spoiler :

I feel horrble for making such a puny turn in such a time, but I am now ready to start posting again. YAY.

The puddle starts merging behind two of the pseudo-hobos into a huge controlled mass, hurdling itself at the jumping creature.
An illegible powerful groaning is bellowed as a glow emanates from what appears to be Jafhar!

Some plumber ships come into view.

Spoiler :

Yay!

"I'll show you that you aren't such a hotshot, Jafhar"

Spoiler :

Hey Stewwie, I couldn't get your sprite sheet/template for your hobos could I? I seem to have misplaced the plumbers that I had based off our template we started for this match, as well as the template

"OH, YOU THINK YOU'RE COOL?" is bellowed out from the liquid mass. The very same mass that is squeezing the moisture from the alien creature.

"You're no match for me"