GIADF
Not A Mod
- Aug 17, 2024
- 2,373
- 2,742
Useless Thread MCMXCVIII: Marvel Rivals™ Awareness Thread
- Thread starter John Price
- Start date
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 387,291
- 31,472
yes, there was a leak that deadpool will be in season 1
Oh please, you've snapped me more terrifying stuff
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 387,291
- 31,472
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 387,291
- 31,472
SoupNazi
Keeps paying for Hangman’s OF to get promoted
- Feb 6, 2010
- 27,344
- 17,834
John Price was a man of routine. At 45 years old, he had perfected the art of doing very little. Living in his mom’s basement in suburban Virginia, his life revolved around two passions: posting nonsense in the "Useless Thread" section of HFBoards (where he held the record for the longest thread about why the Arizona Coyotes should trade for Sidney Crosby) and his extensive plushie collection.
John’s plushies, numbering close to 7500, were his pride and joy. Each one had a name, a backstory, and a designated spot in his meticulously organized basement kingdom. To an outsider, it looked like a Toys "R" Us that had been raided by a hurricane of nostalgia. To John, it was paradise.
But one fateful Tuesday morning, everything changed.
His favorite dolphin plushie, Finnegan T. Splashington III, was gone.
“NO!” John bellowed, the sound rattling the basement windows and startling his mom upstairs. He frantically searched every corner of his domain, lifting piles of Xbox controllers, half-empty Mountain Dew cans, and pizza boxes. Nothing.
He stormed upstairs, panting heavily, and confronted his mom, who was in the middle of watching her daytime soaps.
“Mom! Did you take Finnegan?”
“John, I don’t even know what a Finnegan is,” she said, not looking up from her program.
“He’s a dolphin!” John shouted, his voice cracking with panic. “The one with the monocle and the little sailor hat!”
She sighed. “Why would I take your stuffed animals? Maybe you lost it.”
“I don’t LOSE plushies!” John retorted, storming back downstairs. He knew he had to take matters into his own hands.
He grabbed a bag of stale Doritos as bait and positioned himself near the fence, where the kids were playing basketball.
“Hey!” he called, his voice wheezy. “You little punks! Did you take my dolphin?”
The kids stopped and stared. “What dolphin?” one of them asked, barely suppressing a grin.
“Finnegan T. Splashington III!” John yelled, as if that would clarify everything.
The kids erupted into laughter. “No, we didn’t take your toy, dude!” one shouted before resuming their game. John huffed and muttered, “Lying little jerks,” as he shuffled back inside.
John waited by the mailbox, pacing nervously. When the mailman arrived, John blocked his path, arms crossed.
“Where’s Finnegan?” he demanded.
The mailman blinked. “Finnegan?”
“My dolphin! The one with the monocle!”
“Sir, I deliver letters, not plushies,” the mailman said, edging toward his truck.
“Sure you do,” John muttered, glaring as the mailman drove off in a hurry.
To his dismay, the only response he got was a call from the homeowners’ association, politely asking him to “please stop scaring the neighbors.”
Finally, one fateful night, while reaching for a slice of cold pizza he’d dropped behind the couch weeks earlier, John found something wedged in the cushions. His heart raced. Could it be?
It wasn’t Finnegan. It was an old Taco Bell sauce packet.
“Damn it!” John cried, flinging the packet across the room. As he did, something caught his eye. There, on the highest shelf, behind his oversized Snorlax plushie, was a familiar fin peeking out.
“FINNEGAN!” he yelled, climbing onto a wobbly stool to retrieve the dolphin.
But in his excitement, John lost his balance. The stool tipped, and John came crashing down, taking Snorlax, Finnegan, and half the shelf with him.
When the dust settled, John sat in a heap of plushies, holding what remained of Finnegan. The monocle was missing, the sailor hat was crushed, and one of the dolphin’s flippers had been ripped clean off.
“Nooooo!” John wailed, cradling the injured plushie.
Though he never found out how Finnegan ended up on that high shelf, John found solace in a new obsession: acquiring replacement dolphins. Within months, he had 12 new dolphin plushies, none of which lived up to Finnegan T. Splashington III.
And so, life went on for John Price, the 45-year-old HFBoards legend, who returned to his true calling: posting 3,000-word trade proposals that everyone ignored.
John’s plushies, numbering close to 7500, were his pride and joy. Each one had a name, a backstory, and a designated spot in his meticulously organized basement kingdom. To an outsider, it looked like a Toys "R" Us that had been raided by a hurricane of nostalgia. To John, it was paradise.
But one fateful Tuesday morning, everything changed.
The Missing Plushie
John awoke at the crack of noon, as usual, and shuffled over to his collection to perform his daily inventory check. As he counted, his heart skipped a beat. There was a glaring, gut-wrenching void in the "Premium Tier Sea Creatures" section.His favorite dolphin plushie, Finnegan T. Splashington III, was gone.
“NO!” John bellowed, the sound rattling the basement windows and startling his mom upstairs. He frantically searched every corner of his domain, lifting piles of Xbox controllers, half-empty Mountain Dew cans, and pizza boxes. Nothing.
He stormed upstairs, panting heavily, and confronted his mom, who was in the middle of watching her daytime soaps.
“Mom! Did you take Finnegan?”
“John, I don’t even know what a Finnegan is,” she said, not looking up from her program.
“He’s a dolphin!” John shouted, his voice cracking with panic. “The one with the monocle and the little sailor hat!”
She sighed. “Why would I take your stuffed animals? Maybe you lost it.”
“I don’t LOSE plushies!” John retorted, storming back downstairs. He knew he had to take matters into his own hands.
The Investigation
John decided to start his investigation with his archenemy: the neighborhood kids. For years, they had mocked him, calling him names like "Bigfoot Basement Man" and “Captain Crumbs” whenever they saw him waddling to the mailbox.He grabbed a bag of stale Doritos as bait and positioned himself near the fence, where the kids were playing basketball.
“Hey!” he called, his voice wheezy. “You little punks! Did you take my dolphin?”
The kids stopped and stared. “What dolphin?” one of them asked, barely suppressing a grin.
“Finnegan T. Splashington III!” John yelled, as if that would clarify everything.
The kids erupted into laughter. “No, we didn’t take your toy, dude!” one shouted before resuming their game. John huffed and muttered, “Lying little jerks,” as he shuffled back inside.
A New Lead
Convinced the kids were too dumb to execute such a heist, John turned his attention to the mailman. He’d always been suspicious of the guy, who once jokingly referred to John as “The Collector.”John waited by the mailbox, pacing nervously. When the mailman arrived, John blocked his path, arms crossed.
“Where’s Finnegan?” he demanded.
The mailman blinked. “Finnegan?”
“My dolphin! The one with the monocle!”
“Sir, I deliver letters, not plushies,” the mailman said, edging toward his truck.
“Sure you do,” John muttered, glaring as the mailman drove off in a hurry.
Desperation and Chaos
Out of leads, John decided to take drastic action. He created a missing poster, complete with a blurry photo of Finnegan (taken with a flip phone from 2008) and the caption: “HAVE YOU SEEN THIS DOLPHIN?” He printed 50 copies and plastered them all over the neighborhood, earning bewildered looks from joggers, dog walkers, and the cashier at the 7-Eleven.To his dismay, the only response he got was a call from the homeowners’ association, politely asking him to “please stop scaring the neighbors.”
The Truth Revealed
Weeks passed, and John’s search became more desperate. He turned his basement upside down, even accusing his mom’s elderly Shih Tzu, Muffin, of foul play. Muffin, unimpressed, responded by peeing on one of John’s GameStop receipts.Finally, one fateful night, while reaching for a slice of cold pizza he’d dropped behind the couch weeks earlier, John found something wedged in the cushions. His heart raced. Could it be?
It wasn’t Finnegan. It was an old Taco Bell sauce packet.
“Damn it!” John cried, flinging the packet across the room. As he did, something caught his eye. There, on the highest shelf, behind his oversized Snorlax plushie, was a familiar fin peeking out.
“FINNEGAN!” he yelled, climbing onto a wobbly stool to retrieve the dolphin.
But in his excitement, John lost his balance. The stool tipped, and John came crashing down, taking Snorlax, Finnegan, and half the shelf with him.
When the dust settled, John sat in a heap of plushies, holding what remained of Finnegan. The monocle was missing, the sailor hat was crushed, and one of the dolphin’s flippers had been ripped clean off.
“Nooooo!” John wailed, cradling the injured plushie.
The Aftermath
In the end, Finnegan was beyond repair. John retired him to the “Plushie Memorial Shelf,” next to a stuffed bear that had fallen victim to an unfortunate nacho cheese incident in 2017.Though he never found out how Finnegan ended up on that high shelf, John found solace in a new obsession: acquiring replacement dolphins. Within months, he had 12 new dolphin plushies, none of which lived up to Finnegan T. Splashington III.
And so, life went on for John Price, the 45-year-old HFBoards legend, who returned to his true calling: posting 3,000-word trade proposals that everyone ignored.
SoupNazi
Keeps paying for Hangman’s OF to get promoted
- Feb 6, 2010
- 27,344
- 17,834
End of Line
Sic Semper Tyrannis
- Mar 20, 2009
- 28,722
- 6,395
I swear I lost damn near 5lbs from sweating last night. Fight the good fight immune system.
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 387,291
- 31,472
Act 1: The Boardroom Showdown
Scene opens in the lavish Forrester Creations boardroom. The room is tense, and a heated argument is already in progress. Hope Logan stands at the head of the table, her hands gripping the chair. Carter Walton is seated across from her, calm but determined.
Hope: (leaning forward) Carter, you don’t understand what’s at stake here! This isn’t just about profits—it’s about the legacy my family built from the ground up.
Carter: (coolly) I’m not questioning your family’s contributions, Hope. But legacies can’t keep this company afloat. We need to innovate, take bold risks, and make decisions that align with the future—not the past.
Hope: (frustrated) Bold risks? You mean selling out our principles? Turning Forrester Creations into just another fashion conglomerate?
Carter: (firmly) I mean evolving, Hope. The world is changing, and if we don’t adapt, Forrester Creations will be left behind.
The other board members exchange uneasy glances. Ridge Forrester, seated in the middle, raises his hand to interject.
Ridge: Enough, both of you. We’re here to make decisions, not throw accusations. Hope, Carter, I’ll hear your proposals, but keep it professional.
Hope: (taking a deep breath) Fine. Let’s talk about the numbers. Under my leadership, we’ve expanded the Hope for the Future line, bringing in younger audiences and staying true to our brand’s values.
Carter: (cutting in) And yet profits have stagnated. My proposal ensures growth by partnering with international influencers and expanding our digital footprint. It’s the only way forward.
Hope: (sarcastically) Oh, right, because the soul of Forrester Creations lies in hashtags and TikTok videos?
Carter: (sharply) It lies in relevance, Hope. Something your strategy is sorely lacking.
Scene opens in the lavish Forrester Creations boardroom. The room is tense, and a heated argument is already in progress. Hope Logan stands at the head of the table, her hands gripping the chair. Carter Walton is seated across from her, calm but determined.
Hope: (leaning forward) Carter, you don’t understand what’s at stake here! This isn’t just about profits—it’s about the legacy my family built from the ground up.
Carter: (coolly) I’m not questioning your family’s contributions, Hope. But legacies can’t keep this company afloat. We need to innovate, take bold risks, and make decisions that align with the future—not the past.
Hope: (frustrated) Bold risks? You mean selling out our principles? Turning Forrester Creations into just another fashion conglomerate?
Carter: (firmly) I mean evolving, Hope. The world is changing, and if we don’t adapt, Forrester Creations will be left behind.
The other board members exchange uneasy glances. Ridge Forrester, seated in the middle, raises his hand to interject.
Ridge: Enough, both of you. We’re here to make decisions, not throw accusations. Hope, Carter, I’ll hear your proposals, but keep it professional.
Hope: (taking a deep breath) Fine. Let’s talk about the numbers. Under my leadership, we’ve expanded the Hope for the Future line, bringing in younger audiences and staying true to our brand’s values.
Carter: (cutting in) And yet profits have stagnated. My proposal ensures growth by partnering with international influencers and expanding our digital footprint. It’s the only way forward.
Hope: (sarcastically) Oh, right, because the soul of Forrester Creations lies in hashtags and TikTok videos?
Carter: (sharply) It lies in relevance, Hope. Something your strategy is sorely lacking.
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 387,291
- 31,472
@Hammettf2b nobody queues up for healer they just want to dps all day
just a chill guy here healing everyone every round
just a chill guy here healing everyone every round
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 387,291
- 31,472
The air in Salem felt heavier than usual, an ominous weight hanging over the town. Bo Brady had felt it the moment he stepped off his motorcycle. It wasn’t just the cold November wind—it was the distinct sense that something big was brewing.
He hadn’t expected a phone call from Stefano DiMera. The two men were mortal enemies, their paths crossing countless times in a deadly game of cat and mouse. Stefano, the cunning, manipulative “Phoenix,” had terrorized Salem for decades. Bo, the fearless rebel, had spent just as much time thwarting Stefano’s schemes.
So when Bo answered his phone and heard Stefano’s unmistakable voice, he almost hung up on instinct.
“Brady,” Stefano said, his voice smooth yet laced with urgency, “we need to meet. Face to face.”
Bo narrowed his eyes. “What’s your game this time, DiMera?”
“No game. This is… serious. A threat to us both.”
Against his better judgment, Bo agreed.
He hadn’t expected a phone call from Stefano DiMera. The two men were mortal enemies, their paths crossing countless times in a deadly game of cat and mouse. Stefano, the cunning, manipulative “Phoenix,” had terrorized Salem for decades. Bo, the fearless rebel, had spent just as much time thwarting Stefano’s schemes.
So when Bo answered his phone and heard Stefano’s unmistakable voice, he almost hung up on instinct.
“Brady,” Stefano said, his voice smooth yet laced with urgency, “we need to meet. Face to face.”
Bo narrowed his eyes. “What’s your game this time, DiMera?”
“No game. This is… serious. A threat to us both.”
Against his better judgment, Bo agreed.
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 387,291
- 31,472
PanthersPens62
Paul & Stanley
PanthersPens62
Paul & Stanley
I have already crowned Munchlax as 2024 Plushie of the Year. Hear are my top 5 2024 Plushies.......note this is not based on when they were "sewn" but rather a combination of cuteness & prominence in the UT this past year.
1. Munchlax
2. Babe Woof
3. Bidoof
4. Pawlette
5. ESA Br'er Rabbitt
1. Munchlax
2. Babe Woof
3. Bidoof
4. Pawlette
5. ESA Br'er Rabbitt
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 387,291
- 31,472
End of Line
Sic Semper Tyrannis
- Mar 20, 2009
- 28,722
- 6,395
I have already crowned Munchlax as 2024 Plushie of the Year. Hear are my top 5 2024 Plushies.......note this is not based on when they were "sewn" but rather a combination of cuteness & prominence in the UT this past year.
1. Munchlax
2. Babe Woof
3. Bidoof
4. Pawlette
5. ESA Br'er Rabbitt
Spaghetti day today?
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 387,291
- 31,472
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 387,291
- 31,472
GIADF
Not A Mod
- Aug 17, 2024
- 2,373
- 2,742
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 387,291
- 31,472
End of Line
Sic Semper Tyrannis
- Mar 20, 2009
- 28,722
- 6,395
Making an extra spicy thai curry for dinner over here tonight.
I could go for some of that but I think it’ll have to be chicken noodle soup again lol
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 387,291
- 31,472
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 387,291
- 31,472
GIADF
Not A Mod
- Aug 17, 2024
- 2,373
- 2,742
Ditched the wife and kid and walked to the local dive bar for a beer.
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