Dang, Yo! - How to Get Decimated but still be a Dashing Dictator on Deity

[YourDeath/TSAR]

can u continue your story??

btw, if something is very funny, isntead of writting "lololololol" or "rofl" or "hahahaha", you just write "that" (that=thats the best thing ever)

 

[Historybuff]

Please continue the story, I am dying to hear the next installment.
I am getting a preview of Civ 5 from you because I'm getting it at Christmas.(5 days left!!!)

 

[Mzrokks]

Please continue the story, I am dying to hear the next installment.
I am getting a preview of Civ 5 from you because I'm getting it at Christmas.(5 days left!!!)

Sure, I'll continue it - if I get a 5 star score...
Just joking! However, a 5-star score would be much appreciated...
I'll continue it soon - I might have the time today.

 

[Mzrokks]

First of all, a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to everyone. P.S - To those of you who are Christian, please don't forget what Christmas is all about after all.

Now for the next installment.



"SIRE! SIRE!"
A very dishevelled servant runs into my bedchamber, where I stand composing music while looking out of the window.
"SIRE! IT IS TERRIBLE!" The serf clutches at my shoulder, then collapses on the carpet.
"Abdul! My friend, calm yourself!" I pick him up, making a mental note - have the shoulder of my robe cleaned. "Abdul, tell me what has happened."

"Oh, sire!" Abdul sobs. "Damascus has fallen!"
"خنزير! الخنازير! الشخص الذي يرتدي قبعة مضحك!" I reply calmly and composedly.


Napoleon has truly betrayed me. This Deity thing is harder than I thought - but at lest Caesar is on hand to fight back the French horde.

My propaganda minister pays me a visit next day. His nose is bandaged.
"What shall I make of this, sire?"

"Tell them that I am fantastic." I mumble, red faced.
"I have an idea, great sire!" yelps the Minister. "I shall distribute a portrait of you to every Arabian household! That should get them patriotic!"
"Yes, do that," I say, throwing a dart at my picture of Napoleon.

As you can see, I am not able to hold the French back. Caesar will probably steal Damascus back from me but it will be worth it if I survive this.

My Minister rushes back.
"VOILA'!" he says.
I kick him in the nose for using that filthy language in my presence.
"Sorry! I've already given out the portraits," he continues, presses a handkerchief to his bleeding nose. He presents the portrait to me.

"ما في اسم لوحات ملطخة ذلك؟" shreiketh I.
"It got a little smudged..." replies my Minister, and dives away from my rapidly moving fist.

The Hated Frenchman offers to take everything I own except Mecca and ceasefire. Yeah, right!

The Pontifex Maximus is in fact turning out to be the real villain here!
Arabian Diplomat: Could you give us back Damascus please?
Roman Diplomat: Come and get it!
Arabian Diplomat: أمك هو خائن للفرنسيين
Roman Diplomat: Vestri matris est Fanaticus!
The Cold War Begins.

Poor Gandhi never had a chance. The only leader with a worse score than mine!

That's all for now.
P.S Historybuff - Nice preview, eh?

 

[BeyondCivilized]

What I'm rofling most about is the Arabic Transliterations! Who would have thought Transliterating Arabic from English would produce such Hilarious results...

Harun: "آه يا عزيزي!" translation would be "Oh Yeah Baby!" lol

 

[Mzrokks]

What I'm rofling most about is the Arabic Transliterations! Who would have thought Transliterating Arabic from English would produce such Hilarious results...

Harun: "آه يا عزيزي!" translation would be "Oh Yeah Baby!" lol

You've got to love literal translations!

 

[YourDeath/TSAR]

lol
perfect, hope u continue

 

[Historybuff]

I just got back from school( it's a joke-no homework. Tomorrow, half day-even bigger jokesigh )
I liked the preview, I love the story,and the ever battle with your propoganda minister is epicly hilarious!!!
( 4 days till Christmas!!!!!! )

10th post!!!!!!

 

[Mzrokks]

Napoleon est finis. If you look to the left you can see he has three cities + Paris - he had about six or seven before which means that Caesar and the Aztecs are giving him trouble.

"SIRE! SIRE!"
My Propaganda Minister slips and falls flat on his nose. He says "أوتش أنفي" which translates roughly to "OOCHMESNOUT!"
You were always so clumsy, I think, as he gets up and shows me a painting of the action.
"JOY TO THE WORLD!" shrieketh myself, doing a little dance. Then I stop mid-tango. "Wait just one second - AARGH!, it cannot be!"
The Minister glances at the picture. "Oh no!" he exclaims. "The Romans are building a metal bird to fly to the stars!"
In my legendary rage, I boot the Minister out of the window. He lands (conveniantly) in a gigantic custard pie.
"AAAH!" shouts the cook standing next to the pie. "My record attempt! Ruined!"
"No it isn't!" I call down. "I bet that broke the 'Highest Dive from a Balcony into a Custard Pie' record!"
I retreat to my desk while the Record people arrive to paint pictures, and I compose this poem:

Damascus falls
And so it seems
The French have broken all my dreams

But there is hope
For now I see
Napoleon is now finis!

Augustus builds his metal birds
But still I am not lost for words

Through all the tears
And the pain
Dashing dictator - I remain!

I can hear the Minister laughing from downstairs, which annoys me, so I kick my globe out of the window. There is a hollow THUNK!! which satisfies me greatly.

Then this.
Oh dear.
I've lost I fear.
And now what can I do?
I loudly yelp:
"I need some help!"
Now speak - what would you do?

 

[Nitram15]

Please continue this!!!

 

[Mzrokks]

Please continue this!!!

1. I just posted, give me a little time!
2. Unfortunately, there's not much left of this story. I'm trying to streeeeeeetch what's left, yes?

 

[Nitram15]

Oh, sorry we posted them just the same time!

 

[Mzrokks]

Oh, sorry we posted them just the same time!

Coincidences are so strange, right?
I think I'll continue this now, actually...

 

[Nitram15]

Yep, thanks

 

[Civ'ed]

You actually made a mistake by putting Arabic FOLLOWED by the !. It would not be (Arabictext)! but !(Arabictext). Just saying...

 

[Mzrokks]

How could I have been so blind? The enemy is not any Frenchman or Gandhi (I nearly forgot, by the way - Suleiman killed Gandhi like I asked him to. I regret it now.) The real enemy is Augustus Caesar, Pontifex Maximus, Enemy of Arabia, of France, of Turkey, of the Aztecs, of the world.


I am sorry, old friend. You have left me no other choice.

I am rather sad as I hand over the money. I call my Propaganda Minister, who is still covered in custard, and ask him to destroy Caesar's reputation. He scurries away.
What have I done?What have I done?What have I done?

Napoleon shows up, utterly destroyed, and begs for mercy.
Napoleon: Let us make peace! Caesar has destroyed me!
Harun: It is agreed. (Shakes Napoleon's hand) Only now do I realize who the true enemy of Arabia is.

 

[Nitram15]

Wow, it looks exciting now.

 

[Historybuff]

No school for 11 days!!!!!!
Is this the end????I hope not.

(3 days till Christmas!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

 

[Mzrokks]

No school for 11 days!!!!!!
Is this the end????I hope not.

(3 days till Christmas!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Yes, it's the end.

 

[Mzrokks]

It is done.
Just in time for Christmas, too! (By the way, Bismarck and Alexander were not married. Bismarck had mistaken Alexander for his girlfriend and proposed to him, and Alexander apparently hit him over the head with his sandals. Bismarck and Rosa were wed in November, while Alexander remains solo, exploring South America on his horse ).
Right there is the final piece of Caesar's victory-puzzle. And that means I am finished. (Insert Star Wars Darth Vader music here)
Thanks for following this story. I should be starting a new one very soon (this year? ). Without further ado, the final chapter.



I step out onto the balcony under the night sky. The people of Arabia gather below me, curious.
"My people," I greet them. "Our empire has indeed grown. We have conquered many challenges. Damascus was lost to the French, but the rest of our empire endured. India fell to the Ottomans, but they remained cordial to us.
They FEARED US!" I shout. "They feared how such a tiny country could be of such significance to the world. How a little North African state could build the finest army for defence, hold out against the fiercest attacks, build the finest University and be blessed with silver, whales, wheat. Against terrible prejudice we won out. And though Caesar may search among the stars for utopia, we have built utopia. WE HAVE BUILT UTOPIA! WE HAVE BUILT ARABIA!!!
I salute my people. Who thought a dictatorship could flourish like this? As they cheer and shout: "هارون, هارون", I walk back into my chamber. My Propaganda Minister stands at the door. "Did they...like my speech?" he asks.
"They loved it." I hold out my hand and the Minister grips it in his own. "My career, if you will allow me, was built on telling lies," he admits. "But every single sentence, word, vowel of that speech
was
completely
true."

Harun al-Rashid has left the building!