The Polygons And The Multi-Polygonal War Of 1964

-Informal Entry

1964 was a horrible and deadly year for all of the Polygonians and the Coresasians. In '64, the Emperor of the Ching Xiong District, Hao Lee Shin The Second, threatened the Lighter Polygon's leader, Erasmus, impaled on a sword with a pear instead of a pommel, which enraged him. He sent thousands upon thousands of young boys and girls to the Darkest Polygon, offering them food and shelter and all the riches in the world if they succeeded in a duel with the Innercube. The fight lasted up until 2000, a new era for the Quadpolyverse, the Duke was devastated by the war, and he sent in his Peacemaker minions that he controlled with his ever-withering Funksoul to stop it. (note: The Duke is chosen solely by the biggest Funksoul, nothing else, as the Duke is born once every millenium at the exact same time the Duke's Funksoul withers away, making the Duke stay the Duke, for ever and ever.) Ponko and Dongle were sent into the PMoA, the Proud Military of Ameracia, where they were sent alongside Duke's soul-soldiers to fight the good fight, the only fight, the neverending fight, the one fight. The fight was fought in trenches, in caves, and in large, dusty superfleiners (extremely large planes about the size of a small town, again.). The war was brutal and the whole Ching Xiong District was in total anarchy, a hellhole and a cesspool at the same time. A mixture of burning feces and demons, gross. Mexacorra, on the other hand, decided to loot the old, war-torn homes of the Chandese (inhabitants of the Ching Xiong District), as Mexacorra is a large country of bandits, gangs, and drugs. Ching Xiong's leader, Shin Hao Lee, sent his last missile over to Mexacorra, devastating all the lives there, and basically wiping the country off the map, turning it to a burning No-Man's-Land, now, you see, when people die, their Funksouls merge with Duke's, and Duke's Funksoul grows. This means he sent more reinforcements into Ching Xiong District, knocking down the last pillar of hope for the Chandese, and sending their country crumbling down.

Aerth and the Coresasa

-Subpart III, The Glorious Father Aerth And It's Sons And Daughters, The Coresasa.

The Coresasa are the little polygonalical creatures called Doofs that come out of your corners. They aren't actually called Doofs, they're called Coresasa, but still, that's not the point. The Coresasa used funkadelic magic to blend some sweet brew that forms the life and party of Aerth. Wrongy Plonk (Dongle's father, and Ponko's distant not-so-related-but-still-related-step-uncle-uncle) was the leader of the tribe, and served the two Funkchilds the slurpy Funksoup brew of life that energized our bodies and soothed our souls. Now, the Funksoup wasn't that good tasting, but it still was because it's funky. All Coresasa suffer from Funkadasiasiasis, a rare disease that can send you into seizures, and sets your eyes ablaze in a pink inferno, in the name of Funkuh, our higher power in our brave and glorious religion, Funkistanitii. Don't question it. The Coresasa didn't hunt, they didn't eat, they didn't drink, they didn't sleep. They lived off the vibes of funk in the deep undertones of life, hugging Father Aerth close to their heart. Many fell into an eternal sleep like this, an endless seizure and an endless inferno of Funkfire.

Kaleido Trafficking

-Subpart III, Kaleido Trafficking

Have you ever held a kaleidoscope up to your eye and realized nothing on this dimension will ever be capable of capturing such delicate funk? I have. Once, Horseman visited me in the night. He peered out of the closet with eyes a'blaze with cosmic groove, like all other times Horseman visited me, I had a strange case of tunnel vision with a brutal migraine shortly afterwards (brutal in the sense that it was really gnarly) before his arrival. Anyway, that's neither here nor there. Closer to the point, Horseman visited me at night like he did every night once I was proclaimed Funkchild and shared with me the weird of the Middlecube. And also mixed weird ass pills in with my milk and cookies which left me rolling on the floor foaming from the ears. Anywho, once he gave me sight of the kaleido, which left me in the hospital for a few days until he came back and took that godforsaken vertigovision out of my pupils. What I saw those few days, unknowingly, was the Darkest Polygon, in fact, every kaleidoscope you'll ever look at will show you fields and rainbow moors of the Darkest of Polygons. Try tracing where the kaleidoscope you bought came from, it will always lead to the same damn company located in New Newfoundsland, Iowa. (That is if you're on Aerth) Little did the townspeople know New Newfoundsland, Iowa doesn't exist. The men responsible for Kaleido trafficking are part of the Darker Alliance, because the majority of the Kaleido traffickers reside in Darker but were exile or runaways or whatever. The Darker Alliance owns a handful of clandestine Kaleidolabs in a few locations around the Innercube, where, once a shipment of Kaleido comes the job is to purify it through the coking process, rid it from impurities and bottle it into small canisters for distribution among little kids and Darker spies, who oppose the Duke.

TL;DR: Kaleido is legal to purchase, possess, and sell in the Dark Polygon, making it a safe haven for Darker criminals. Owning a Kaleidoscope upon entering any polygon other than Dark Polygon is punishable up to 100 lives in interpolygonal prison. Humans haven't lived that long ever since Methuselah was proclaimed king of Indonesia and Joseph Smith published the Book of Bourbon.

Polygons And What They Represent

-Part II, Polygons And What They Represent

Different tiers of Polygon exist in the Middlecube, we have an assorted bunch. They vary in size and flavors. If you're looking for the Darkest Polygon, we got that. You said Dark Polygon? We have that in stock. I'm sorry, I'm not fluent in binary, you said Darker Polygon? Yo, why don't you go to hell, buddy. Customer Service is out, you feel me. Are you picking up what I'm placing on the ceiling? I'm not, gravity won't work with me.

=====================================

Tiers of Polygon goes from top to bottom as follows:

-Lighter Polygon-

-Dark Polygon-

-Darkest Polygon-

-Darker Polygon-

=====================================

We have a list above for easier comprehension, we won't guarantee your understanding, we simply made it easier to follow along, as your stupidity is your own fault. We don't lay down the law, we follow it. In this case we don't, as we laid it down, and you are to follow. You don't have to follow. We'll throw you in prison. You are no ally to the empire.

Lighter Polygon goes as the name suggests, it's the light dimension, or lighter than all the other ones. Don't get us wrong, it's not sunny, nor is it bright. It's not happy, it certainly isn't the jolliest of places, unless you like dunes, and deserts. And sand in general, and everything having to do with sand, as the Lighter Polygon mostly consists of sand, a few huts and a large stone bust depicting Erasmus the Fortunate impaled on a sword with a pear instead of a pommel. Slightly familiar words are engraved on the hilt, reading, "Ekud Cimsoc." It's Latin for 'Crazed Boar,' I think. The Lighter Polygon is called this because unlike it's other 3 sisters, it was fed less food and instead shot up meth in the bathroom to keep a fresh, fit look. The Lighter Polygon is the skimpiest of Polygons, it's very LIGHT and FRUGAL, very SMALL and cute. But not cute anymore. Just anorexic and scary. And slightly damp. Ew.

The Dark Polygon is spooky, and also the most populous. The Dark Polygon unlike it's other siblings, is infinite. The Dark Polygon was first erected by the Duke when time was still in the negatives. He pinched it between his index and thumb finger and dumped it out into the Middlecube. The Middlecube has a hard time digesting it's meals so under some weird circumstances upon pooping the Dark Polygon deeper into the core of the Middlecube, (Now entering the Innercube) it got stretched into infinity. Something about the Krebs Cycle. Upon closer inspection we noticed that all who read this currently reside in the Dark Polygon. To narrow it down even further, if you reside in Aerth like Ponko and I, you're in Dark Polygon. There's a heads up for all who care.

I would tell you a whole lot about the Darkest Polygon, a whole parking lot. However, due to troubles with intergalactic law enforcement and the fact that I'm awful tired and it's 2 A.M. in the goddamned morning, I'll only fill you in with a paragraph full of information, or if you're lucky maybe even more. In the Darkest Polygon the Duke resides with all his bread, he keeps it scattered on the floor since it causes a loud crackle upon each step, thus alerting the Duke that unwanted pests have arrived in his domain. A method much like the Samurai used, except substituting creaky floors with fresh sourdough baguettes. Of corpse we know the Duke used this method much earlier before the Japanese had squinty eyes or had eyes at all. Kaleidoscopes have a very controversial take on The Darkest Polygon as they are considered by conspiracy theorists to be cosmic contraband sold on Aerth for spying on the Duke.




As good things exist, bad, scary things come to pass, too. If you didn't know that you're weird. Like, if you look at the darkest corner of your room at night; That's scary. There could be ghosts in that corner. You'll never find out if you don't ask. You can ask. You can't ask. Don't ask corners questions. Especially if you have an Ouija board on the floor and you're contacting the demon lord, Xaalkanvankali.

Corners are gateways to evil. The walls work with them too, it's an organized crime. It's night and the moon, like, shows up outside your window, you turn over to your side, you turn over to someone else's side, they turn to your side, they might also turn to their side, too, you cozy up in a myriad of pillow pets and dream that one day Chester'll show up at your doorstep and gift you a suitcase of dead wrens gnats (as is currency among best friends. Unless 95' 2013 has long passed, which in case anyone is reading please update to current item. We will be much obliged.) and - NO STOP, LOOK OVER, NO YOU CAN'T YOU'RE ASLEEP, IF YOU WERE AWAKE YOU WOULD BE WELL AWARE THAT SATAN IS DANCING ON YOUR CARPET FLOO- HELLWORMS ARE OUTSIDE OF YOUR WINDOW, LOOK, THE SKY TURNED BRIGHT RED AND THE MOON IS AN EYEB - SATAN CALLED IN A MARIACHI BAND HE'S SACRIFICING GOATS ON YOUR CEILING STROBE LIGHTS IN YOUR ROOM THE WALLS ARE BLEEDING PUS YOUR ENTIRE ROOM IS SUBMERGED IN PERIOD BLOOD SATAN IS RAPING YOUR CAT

"Wow, whoa, stop, stop it, Dongle! Your words are spooky, and I don't like them!" - You

Well you should be well-prepared before waltzing into my convenience store and asking if we have the Darker Polygon in stock, to which I will gladly answer, please go away we don't need your company. What's all that, then? That's the Darker Polygon, it's below the Darkest, it's trying to tell us it's darker than the Duke's own astral plane. Aye, we'll take their word for it, I don't need guys from the Darker side interfering with my own damn planet, and you sure as hell don't want to risk meeting them either.

Reminder: Current friend item is: Gnats.
Reminder: Before moving to a foreign dimension, check the demon to human ratio.

Map of Aerth

Ponkos' Glorious Recollection Of St. Roseblock's Socialist Republic of The People

- Documentation of St. Roseblock's Socialist Republic of the People.

St. Roseblock's Socialist Republic of the People was the kind of place where superfleiners (extremely large planes about the size of a small town) left dark, black chemtrails in the sky that wouldn't go away for hours and hours.
The sky was tinted and the town was conquered by a Georgian Mafia leader back in the 80s, but he took it from a peasant that overthrew the government single-handedly with a smelly pipebomb he had hidden in his nether regions. St. Roseblock's Socialist Republic of the People was a place of total anarchy, where there was violence all over and all around and rubbish littered the streets in crowds like the people that waited for their rations. Men would storm houses in search for "funkadelic doodlewops", basically a new type of drug that enhanced your senses and was prone to causing seizures. In common cases it turned normal men into something like The Incredible Bulk, a comic in Ameracia, in which a holocaust survivor is experimented on, and he turns into a mottled, grey mass that is extremely strong and such. St. Roseblock is now run by a corrupt mob boss, Jimmi Miggamoggen II, the son of Jimmy Miggamoggen, the mob boss who conquered St. Roseblock's Socialist Republic of the People in the 1980s.

The Travelling Circus of Ponko and Dongle

-Part I, The Travelling Circus

If you think we're insane, you might be right. THO?UGH, that doesn't change the fact that we may or may not be correct. But we ARE correct. And all our stories are re[fa(real)ke]al. A clique which consisted of a man and a man who was slightly younger and aged men who arn't important, but one was, two of them were important. 

A hand clenched a mahogany hatchet and swung about the chasm. A swift thrust and then with a twisting dab the mountains obeyed their wooden master. Rocks turned and switched direction, the hatchetman delivered swiftly jabs and pierced the mountains from a distant chrome-drenched platform. It swung the hatchet with such careful precision as a choral director enjoins his musical ensemble.

We don't care about that. We were contacted by a duke from, like, space. Dukes are cool because I think of New York when I do think of them, one rank away from prince. Like me. Except I am not a prince yet. That is in the next future. You can't know about that, stop. I'm also a king and a marquis and baron. I'm not a king or a marquis or baron. 

I am/was contacted by a cosmic duke. I was only contacted by him once, I still am contacted by him currently, and I was contacted, and will be contacted by him forever. But only once. He opened lots of chain restaurants in Fernando Poo once. The duke also made the dirt around the carrots once farmers plant them; Once. The duke doesn't understand the word "Condiments" and refuses to learn it, as he says he has known the word in his previous time frame (future/past, we don't know) and lost to it in a drug-fueled match of Gin Rummy; Once. The duke never lost to anyone in Gin Rummy or any known variations of Rummy (including Cosmic Rummy); Once. Let me tell you now that we're on the subject, he only does things once but forever.  You might be thinking now, no one can do things once but forever. Ok, that's fine. We won't judge you, you are stupid. You were born thinking, and you might think you cease to think every now and then and rest. However, this is false, as you are stupid. You were born and only begun to think once, but you thought forever. 

"We can make you less of a human and more of a polygon" - Cosmic Duke

"KRGHAF AUHGANSF  GAEDSOPA APOJDE" - Ekud Cimsoc

Um, me and Ponko were born on the planet Texas, and half of us was born on Georgia. I grew up in a house of former drug dealer "Wrongy Plonk" (Alternatively, "Wrongy Prism"). He had moved out when I had moved in with my family. Lights which sustained the marijuana were left hanging in the garage which reeked of the diggity dank. I was two years old when we bought the house. Upon entering my abode the ganja'd out fumes hit my underdeveloped baby brains which sent me into a spiral of funky cool. I became one with the cosmic gnarlhood, it's gnarly features were too much to bear for anyone who wasn't of the proper mindset. In this case, my mind was far from set, in fact, it toppled over to the side and fell asleep for a while, and when it awoke, my drug-addled baby mind was funky cool. But I didn't know that yet. Wrongy Plonk, who now resided on the south side of West Korea, wasn't aware of the birth of a Funkchild, nor did he know what one was. Nor did I, nor Ponko know what one was. Even though we were them and they were us, so to speak. Ponko was birthed by his human mother in the east side of Georgia, on an island (St. Roseblock's Socialist Republic of the People) that was conquered by a Georgian Mafia leader back in the 80's. Ponko was born, like, a year after me; Since we're the same person the time difference was super confusing. Ponko and I ended up being both a year older and a year younger. Please don't take us the wrong way, we are two different people. We are just the same exact people. At the tender age of 1, night dawned, and Ponko was fast asleep in his blue crib which had the words "Ekud Cimsoc" carved out into the side of it. That's probably Latin. That night he heard light. He saw colors coagulate from the carpet and transmute into a Horseman. He stared him down with deep purple cyan eyes and whispered "Bro, I rode the Cranbog into your roof, sorry lol." That was translated from early Cyrillic. The Horseman wrote out the Cyrillic letters with his voice, he had first contributed the Cyrillic language/alphabet to the planet Earth, but since everyone forgot it he was super mad and didn't chill with humans anymore. Ponko understood him and Horseman understood him. In fact, it was Horseman's first encounter with a human since he last encountered one. He sat Ponko on his lap and imbued his mind with funked out groove. He mouthed the last four letters of the Cyrillic alphabet and left a bowl of soup. Ponko too, now joined the FUNKCHILD MOVEMENT. He didn't know, I didn't know.

On a funky August morning the ochre leaves fell from the trees, and didn't fly back up and attach themselves onto the branches. On one of the trees it was written "Ekud Cimsoc". Must be Latin. As we matured, we aged, and as we aged we turned better, and more potent. Like fine wine, per se. In fact, if you bit down under our skins, our blood tasted like grapes and alcohol. Ponko and I were cool guys, on that funky August morning we were awoken by a SHARED HALLUCINATION. A cloaked man with eyes glistening, standing in a field of white lights and large tubes of swirly colors, a smell of strawberry scented markers was in the air. The air was thick and you could taste it. It tasted like air. The man's cloak lit up and he danced, his head turned but his eyes were fixed on me. I had turned my head to see a young man a year younger than me, he stood there too, I was not alone in the astral plane of color. A cacophony of cosmic love. A voice was heard. It was bold, you could see it. It spoke in Esperanto.

LOAVES OF BREAD, LOAVES OF BREAD. YOU CAN TASTE IT.

YOU CAN HAVE IT, DEAR CALVES.

WE CAN SING HERE.

THE TRAVELLING CIRCUS, IT LIVES, OK?

YOU ARE THE TRAVELLING CIRCUS, DEAR CALVES.

WHAT HO, THE KREMLIN SHOWS.

It might not seem like a lot to you, but oh boy, were we excited. We couldn't understand it either, but we heard him, and heard him once. And forever. He united us, the Funkchildren, we were the ones who served him, and he gifted us with love. This story marks our insanity, but it doesn't; What's really marked is "Ekud Cimsoc." It's marked on your trees.

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but dey dotn do it mush in rlel lif so i send tru emale
tis is ur prence sinen ote

UGANDA MAK GODE DSICOVRY

!!NEW!!

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a picture of me, i am ugendan prence

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