Whitespace

[haxxorzd00d]

An empty white room, brightly illuminated by some unseen source, apparently stretching off into nothingness in all directions. The only thing of interest in this blank space... is whatever you want.

Welcome to Whitespace, the game of anything!

In this game, you'll take a turn to place an object into the room - an item, a person, whatever you want, of any shape or size - then write a short chunk of text about how the existing residents of the room interact with this object. There are no entrances or exits to the room; anything you place into it simply appears. No object may ever leave the room once it enters. As more and more items and people pile into the room, who knows what'll happen?

Please start your post with the format "Suddenly there's <something> in the room."

---[Game Start!]---

Suddenly there's a clown in the room. He doesn't look very happy; perhaps he's one of those sad clowns you've heard about. He sits down on the ground and quietly mopes to himself. Whatever he's sad about must be more important than trying to find a way out of here.

Now it's your turn.

[Iron_Fang]

Suddenly a permanently tilted portrait of Lord Mountbatten appears!

His eyes glaring into the clown's eyes into it's soul as it cries!

[haxxorzd00d]

Suddenly there's a pineapple in the room.

The clown was hoping for something a bit more destructive to smash the creepy portrait with, but hey, at least the points are kinda sharp. He starts trying to scratch the portrait's eyes out with the pineapple, but it has no effect, which makes him even more upset.

[RobipodSupreme]

A small yet strangely ferocious dog appears, with small pointed ears and a surprisingly large scrotum, which it sits on.

It ferociously attacks anything/one which approaches.

[Invunarble]

A large weight training set and other similar exercise suddenly appears along with a large amount of bulky, ginormous muscular men. The men look as if they are all using the weight machines to work on growing their already humongous biceps and abdomens, and rarely stop for breathers in between workouts. They aren't even drinking water!

Don't worry, it gets better from here. Suddenly, a gigantic strip club in the shape of a dial telephone pops into existence, and the emotional clown, the portrait of Lord Mountbatten, the pineapple, the large muscular men located in the newly formed cluster of weight training machines, and the dog with a enormous scrotum all turn from whatever they were previously doing to look in confusion and puzzlement at this new telephone shaped object in front of them.

They only begin to realize it's a strip club when the battery compartment of the phone pops open on the back, and suddenly women emerge in masses from inside the telephone - all of them wearing nothing but banana suits, and emitting strange sexual noises as they proceed from the exit.

The current residents of the whitespace still stare at these strippers, completely puzzled and confused.

[RobipodSupreme]

A large hat saying "look at my balls" appears on the dogs head.

Everybody is forced to stare at his balls every time they catch sight of them.

[Spyboticsguy]

Suddenly, fire appears on everything.

Everything is now on fire forever. It cannot be put out.

[TyrasEngineer]

Hovering above the flaming... well, everything, is an open field to the west of a white house with a boarded front door. A small mailbox is nearby.

[Iron_Fang]

Suddenly a post man appears! He puts a bag of letters into the postbox, locks it and then leaves, 5 minutes later...letters start firing out!

[Skunk_Giant]

Suddenly, a bunch of broken clocks appear around the space, damaged by the flying letters!

[Spyboticsguy]

Suddenly, everything that was not on fire is now on fire.

The fire is on fire as well, and anything new in the room immediately catches fire because the air is also on fire.

[haxxorzd00d]

Suddenly, there's a sprinkler system in the room.

The room doesn't seem to have a ceiling, but there are sprinklers up there anyway. They turn on and douse the flames, making everything in the room soaking wet. The strippers run for cover but find the wooden house is boarded up. The burly men break down the boards and, impressed by their muscular prowess, the strippers escort them into the wooden house for lap dances and sexytimes. The soaked portrait melts into a puddle of goo on the floor, which forms into Lord Mountbatten himself. The clown is too transfixed by the dog's scrotum to react, and the postman is cowering under a weightlifting bench for fear of flying letter paper-cuts or getting slightly wet.

[Skunk_Giant]

Suddenly, there's a walking toolbox in the room.

The walking toolbox enters and fixes all the clocks, except now they're all going backwards. The dog now begins to do everything backwards.

[Spyboticsguy]

Suddenly, a burst of water appears and squirts the postman in the face. The rest of him is still on fire, and so are his letters, because he decided to hide from the sprinklers.

[Skunk_Giant]

Suddenly, there's a giant anvil in the room. It squishes everything.
It is promptly lit on fire.

[RobipodSupreme]

A tree appears, catches fire, and runs into the wall, knocking itself unconscious and burning to a crisp.

The now burning scrotum of the dog decides to make a break for it and also leaves, as the dog, and pretty much everything else, slowly turns to ash.

[haxxorzd00d]

Suddenly there's a tech support guy in the room.

He extinguishes all the fires and vaporises the giant anvil with his standard-issue disintegration ray. He pins a rule sheet to the side of the strip club, politely informing everyone that things ported into the room which irreversibly affect EVERYTHING in the room, like magic fire or giant anvils, put a great strain on the simulation and could well cause it to crash. An engineer already had to install another 64 terabytes of RAM to cope with such a disaster, and he wasn't too happy about it. Unfortunately, the laws of the room prevent him from leaving, so he starts a casual conversation with the postman about weather or some equally boring crap.

[aeroeng15]

Suddenly there's a thunderstorm in the room.

It soaks everything again and electrocutes everyone in the room (this would be the time the strippers had to shower...). Because the weather doesn't like being talked about behind it's back.

[RobipodSupreme]

A second tree appears, and stands in a corner, confused, wondering where its friend got to, and why everybody's having seizures.

Everybody but the non conductive types have seizures, while the tree plays solitaire.

[Iron_Fang]

Suddenly an open doorway appears, all that can be seen is a few trees in the forest and a deer (painting ofc!)

[Invunarble]

Suddenly, a bastion of whining and complaining Portal 2 fans appear in the whitespace. Noticing the chaos and madness that has been unfolding around them from the previous inhabitants of the whitespace, they flee to the confines of the safe, warm telephone strip club that is now desolate as all of the strippers have left to the postman's house.

The smelly Portal 2 fans quickly bundle together and form various nerdy devices to help prolong their survival: Some create a wheatley core to overlook the exit to make sure nobody enters, a few create noisy portal gun replicas that are complete with flashing lights and sounds in hopes they can be used as a source of nutrition, others create P-Body replicas and stick them around the strip club to use (as a horrible excuse) for strippers, and the last few ludicrous fans who can't find anything better to do bundle together to form an orchestra, CONSTANTLY singing "Still Alive".

Soon, the inhabitants of the white space are driven bonkers from the horrible noises emitting from the strip club. The depressed clown cries even louder and frequently, the dog re-emerges from the ashes and begins to become uncomfortable with his ginormous scrotum (and as such begins to caress the mailman - poor guy), the tech support guy attempts to desperately call the strip club to plead them to stop singing, the thunderstorm begins firing lightning bolts at the large telephone in hopes all the inhabitants will become electrocuted and die, the muscular men begin groaning while emitting sounds of complaint (such as "this plece is so fockeng dust bro yolo swag"), the strippers continue producing strange sexual noises in a louder tone in an attempt to be heard over the horrible music, this is an incredibly large run-on sentence, and the now humanized Lord Mountbatten simply sits on his whatever-the-fuck-he-sits-on and summons a butler, asking for a cup of tea then adding:

"Shit has hit the fan in this strange country, Jeeves. Look into purchasing a private flight for me at the first chance possible."

[Spyboticsguy]

The world is now made entirely in python.

import explosion;

[Skunk_Giant]

Suddenly,
Print 'Hello World'

[aflycon]

Suddenly there's a janitor in the room. Lugging with him a broom, mop, and bucket of water, he sweeps up the remaining ashes from the fire into a neat pile, wets his mop, and then begins to wipe the clouds away as if they were plastered against a ceiling above the residents of the Whitespace. Slowly the janitor is able to mop up all of the thunderstorm (except what is left over the strip club, because he can't reach that). After glancing around at the other people in the room, the janitor posts a second notice next to the list on the wall of the strip club, reminding participants to keep in mind the wellbeing of those in the simulation; importing weather or natural disasters is discouraged. The postman voices his thanks to the janitor, emerging from underneath the weight bench.

The janitor then politely closes the door that had earlier appeared, in order to contain the noises of the forest on the other side. He leaves the tools of his trade by his notice at the strip club, and unbuttons his work shirt - beneath it is a Slayer tee shirt with the sleeves cut off. He removes his cap, letting down his long hair, and with the shirt and cap under his arm, goes to strike up a conversation with the postman about thrash metal. The dog growls as he passes, but the janitor takes the dog's "Look at my balls" hat and it is suddenly less aggressive.

After a while of conversation, the clown approaches. He reveals that he too is a fan of thrash metal, and that he has seen Metallica in concert on several occasions. The theme of the conversation moves to each of their favorite Metallica albums.

[Spyboticsguy]

Suddenly, a door appears.

This door, when opened, has a 50% chance of producing someone who exhibits the most hated qualities of a particular fandom. The other 50% of the time, it grants the deepest wish of the opener (within limits of the simulation.)

Hilarity ensues.

[Skunk_Giant]

Suddenly, a 'not-so-good' brony appears from the doorway.
The toolbox rushes over and begins nailing the door shut.

[Spyboticsguy]

Suddenly, the door opens and reveals a handyman, who takes away the toolbox and does things with it.

It appears the door has self-defense mechanisms, as it then tears itself open and repairs itself.

[haxxorzd00d]

Suddenly there's a man in the room with a balaclava and a pistol.

"Everyone on the ground!" he shouts, pointing the weapon around the room. Most of the room's residents dive to the ground or under the weight benches. The postman, the janitor and the techie hide behind an assortment of backwards clocks, hoping the whirring and clicking devices will conceal their movements. The janitor stealthily retrieves a wrench, a crowbar and a screwdriver from the toolbox and passes them to his comrades,

The brony on the other hand is terrified, pisses his pants, and is promptly shot by the masked man. He dies an awkward, gurgling death on the floor. This sends the Portal 2 fans into complete hysteria, screaming and running about. The masked shooter takes a few potshots at them, and takes out all but one, who cowers behind the strip club with the Wheatley core on his head.

Suddenly the gunman hears the sounds of strippers and burly men from the little wooden house and approaches, his gun drawn...

[aflycon]

The janitor looks down at his work shirt, neatly folded on the floor. From one of its pockets he procures two tiny, sealed plastic beakers - ammonia and bleach for cleaning. Pulling off his Slayer tee shirt, he puts the work shirt back on and buttons it up, before wrapping the tee around his left hand. With his right, he unscrews the ammonia and dabs it onto the shirt, then does the same with the bleach. For good measure, he rubs his hand together (protected from the chlorine gas) in an attempt to speed the reaction.

The janitor knows that the smell will effuse and spread throughout the Whitespace quickly, so he stands back up and begins to tail the masked gunman. Once he is close enough, the janitor brings his left arm around the gunman's neck, shoving the wet shirt toward his mouth. With his right hand, the janitor makes a grab for the masked man's pistol, hoping to disarm him.

The mailman and the clown watch in silence, not having spoken since their conversation was interrupted by the gunman's entrance. The dog attempts to bark, but no sound is produced.

[Spyboticsguy]

There is a loud banging heard from all around the whitespace. The gunman throws the janitor off, but collapses soon afterwards. After the gunman collapses, a team of SWAT members is imported in and proceed to capture the masked gunman. They set up a mobile base in a corner and attempt to establish contact with the outside world.