Class on SDS

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Once there was a little Bear cub named Azi, who wanted with all his cubby little heart to be a big Bear someday. After a bit of thought, he put aside his blow-up doll, Linda and sought advice from his brother Bears.

He found them gathered around their picnic table and asked, "Brother Bears, how can I grow up big and strong like you?" There was much discussion amongst them, but at last it was agreed. Azi must find and return with The Most Epic Tequila Ever.

Azi packed his bag full of honey and Coca-Cola and set out on his big adventure. First, he came upon a cavalry carrying tubes in their bear arms. "Pardon me, soldier bros, but could you tell me where to find The Most Epic Tequila Ever?"

"I'm afraid we don't have any, my boy, but if you follow the nuclear explosions in the distance, perhaps you'll find something. Now, if you'll excuse us, we're on our way to a P.E.T.A. meeting, and we're bringing the barbecue," said their leader, doffing his hat to the cub.

"Thanks for the advice, broseph," Azi said, and departed after a flurry of fistbumps. Following the mushroom clouds, he eventually heard loud, obnoxious bragging. The noise was coming from a cave. Perhaps these folks would know where to find Tequila. They certainly sounded drunk. What Azi saw inside the cave, however, was a sight the poor cub was not prepared for. There were several frat boys in bad drag, comparing corsets.

"No way, dude, my waist is totally tinier!" said one.

"Maybe, but mine gives me awesome cleavage!" said another.

"Uh ... Sup bros? Sorry to interrupt your ... whatever this is, but do you know where to find The Most Epic Tequila Ever?" Azi asked, trying not to stare.

"Nah, little man," said a third frat boy, "But maybe you'll find it at the end of the rainbow!"

"Sure, why not? Thanks bros!" Azi called as he chased the rainbow.

After crossing a beautiful meadow, he came to a colorful garden surrounding a manor house. He walked up and knocked on the door. It was answered by a fair maiden. "Can I help you?" she asked, fluttering long eyelashes at him.

"Hello miss. I'm Azi, and I'm looking for The Most Epic Tequila Ever."

"I see. Well Azi, this may be your lucky day. My name is Laura, and my sister Dama and I just happen to have a bottle of Don Julio 1942," the fair maiden began.

"Awesome! Can I have it?" Azi asked hopefully.

"Now Azi, I never give something for nothing," Laura giggled. "Even for a cute bear cub like you. I'll be happy to trade our Tequila for chicken."

"Chicken? Um, okay ..."

"Yes. And once you have the chicken, you must put a party hat on it. Only then will I accept your chicken." Laura seemed quite serious, suddenly. "Sure. I'll be back with chicken and party hats. You have magnificent tracts of land, by the way," Azi said as he started to leave. "Oh do I?" Laura chuckled as she shut the door.

Then, Azi was off and running. He stopped at a local market, collected the chicken and party hats and returned to Laura. He gave Laura and her sister Dama his behatted chicken in trade for The Most Epic Tequila Ever. Before he left, he had to ask, "Thanks brolitas, but, why chicken?"

The fair maidens looked at each other and replied, "Because we love chicken!" They laughed and shut the door in his face.

"Rude!" Azi said to the door before turning to go. "And here I thought she was flirting with me."

When the cub finally returned home, his brother Bears assured him over many a Don Julio toast, that he was indeed a big Bear now.


One day after learning how to make Nuclear Explosions Donevan was drinking Tequila and bragging to the rest of SDS when they all noticed a group of Fair Maidens sitting at another of the picnic tables They decided to traverse the Magnificent tracks of land. All except Jeffy that is, who was too busy shamelessly flirting with a group of Frat Boys. After much rum and coca-cola Jeffy's frat boys were wearing only party hats and the fair maidens were starting to complain about their corsets. All of the bears got honey that night, except sean who had to go home to his blow up dolls. The end.


Once upon a time, in merry olde England, four frat boys called Chad, Randy, Bruce and Theophilus graduated from Great Bear College, Oxbridge. These four strapping young men wanted to have a bit of fun after all of their hard work and so decided to go on holiday, it was uneventful, in true British tradition it rained the whole time but the four men became local dominoes champions. They then travelled to London, city of fortune and also a city where you had make sure not to stand under open windows. However by the time they got there the job market was flooded, all of their friends had high flying jobs, executioner, Gentleman of the Stool and a small tenant farmer (how things have changed for Oxbridge!) They decided to join a cavalry regiment, to serve their King. He was a good and wise King, powerful and just and his name was Jeffan of the House of Caliarthan. Although King Jeffan liked having his new knights around, they had awesome abs and liked to sit around and flex, but the King was having trouble with a local lord and so he sent the knights off to try and intimidate him. They galloped off to the lords castle and found his four beautiful daughters sitting atop the battlements.

“Let down the drawbridge” called Chad, flashing a winning smile.

“ Why should we?” the first fair maiden said, her voice soft and sweet.

“By the order of the King!” roared Randy.

A lot of giggling ensued but eventually the drawbridge thudded down and the the knights rode inside the castle.

They met the lord and discussed the matter hand, the lord had taken possession of huge tracts of royal land and the King wanted it back, he wanted to build a royal faire ground there, after rattling their swords about the lord agreed to give back the land and invited the knights to stay for dinner. Well as these things do, dinner turned to a tequila tournament. The four fair maidens, wearing corsets, were easily a match for the knights. Soon each knight found himself in the arms of a fair maiden, whispering sweet nothings in their ears, trying to undo the corsets and getting there hands slapped away. By the end of the night, with monumental amounts of tequila drunk, the four knights and four maidens were married, sealing the deal between the lord and the king.

The next morning the knights had the worst hangover in the world, their heads were spinning and I won’t even mention what was going on with their stomachs, they saddled up their new wives and galloped off back to the royal castle. They helped their wives off the horses, and helped them into the castle, they helped them into the audience room where the King was sitting in his robes on his golden throne.

“Your Majesty!” cried Theophilus “We have secured the land for you, and sealed the deal with our marriage to these four beautiful maidens of the lord.”

The King was delighted and declared that the four knights were now four lords. He came down to meet the new ladies, and jumped back at once as the women deflated. The new lords looked on in dismay as their wives shrunk to wrinkled piles of plastic on the floor.

“What witchery is this!” shrieked Bruce, clutching his throbbing head.

“They are but blow up dolls” shouted the King “You have married blow up dolls. And more importantly what will happen to my land! My faire!!! Offffff with their heads” he screamed and the knights tried to flee but were stopped. The King was angry and prepared the gallows.

“Oh hi Ferdinand” said Theophilus to the man in black with the axe. And then a great idea sprung into his mind, ripped off his sleeve he flexed his perfect bicep, muscle rippling and the King cried out, halting the executioner. And so all was well in the King, the King never did get his faire ground, but he made muscle flexing mandatory for the knights and they all lived happily ever after.


Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Jeffy. Jeffy spent most of his time reading books, asking his friends —preferably frat boys with corsets— for dirty pictures, and watching anime. He was perfectly happy with this life. Until one day, Jeffy’s computer broke down. Unable to ask his online friends for dirty pictures or watching anime, he played a bit with his blow-up dolls. However, he soon grew tired of this and decided to read some books instead. Upon discovering he had read all the books in his collection, he went to town to get a book from the library.

To get to town, little Jeffy had to walk magnificent tracks of land, as well as scary and dark forests. Unfortunately, in one of these forests, he took a wrong turn. Soon he was lost. He walked for hours and hours, but didn’t find a living soul. Until, that is, he came upon a house. On the door was a sign saying:


Puzzled by this sign, Jeffy decided to knock on the door anyway. When no one answered, he walked right in.

At the table in the kitchen, there were three filled glasses. Little Jeffy was thirsty after his long walk, so he walked toward the table and picked up the first glass. The glass was filled with nuclear explosions. Jeffy took a small sip of it.

“This drink is too hot!” he exclaimed.

Jeffy moved on to the second glass, which was filled with ice-cold Coca-Cola. He took a sip. “This drink is too cold,” he said.

So he tasted from the last glass, which was filled with tequila. “Ahhh, this drink is just right,” he said happily and drank it all up.

After he had a bit too much to drink, Jeffy decided he was feeling a bit sketchy. In fact, he was seeing rainbows everywhere. So, he walked into the living room where he saw three picnic tables. Jeffy sad on the first picnic table to rest his feet.

“This picnic table is too big!” he exclaimed.

So he sat on the second picnic table. “This picnic table is too big, too!” he whined.

Little Jeffy tried the last and smallest picnic table. “Ahhh, this picnic table is just right,” he sighed, but just as he settled down unto the second picnic table to rest, he slipped over some previously spilled honey, fell down on the table and broke it into pieces like the second amendment should have done a long time ago.

By this time, Jeffy was very tired, so he went upstairs to the bedroom. He lay down in the first bed, but it was too hard. The he lay down in the second bed, but it had tubes sticking out. He finally lay down in the third bed and it was just right... Little Jeffy fell asleep.

As he was sleeping, the three bears came home, wearing party hats and bragging about how much they drank at the party.

“Someone’s been drinking from my glass,” growled Darian bear.

“Someone’s been drinking from my glass,” said Locus bear.

“Someone’s been drinking from my glass and they drank it all up!” cried the baby Azi bear.

“Someone’s been sitting on my picnic table,” growled Darian bear.

“Someone’s been sitting on my picnic table,” said Locus bear.

“Someone’s been sitting on my picnic table and they’ve broken it all to pieces,” cried the baby Azi bear.

They decided to look around some more and when they got upstairs to the bedroom, Darian bear, at this point pretty much ready to call in the cavalry, growled, “Someone’s been sleeping in my bed!”

“Someone’s been sleeping in my bed, too,” said Locus bear, on the brink of calling P.E.T.A.

“Someone’s been sleeping in my bed and he’s still there!” exclaimed the baby Azi bear.

Just then, Little Jeffy woke up and saw the baby Azi bear. Just as he was preparing to engage into shameless flirting with him, he noticed the other bears as well. He screamed, “Help!”

Jeffy jumped up and ran out of the room. He ran down the stairs, opened the door, and ran away into the forest... And he never returned to the home of the three bears again.



King Maurice the Gentle ruled the Kingdom of Green Marks, and he was good and wise and kind. He doted on his only daughter, Lady Gloriana Anabella Katerina, who was known throughout all Green Marks (and the rest of the world as well) for her beauty, grace, poise, and elegance. As Sir Richkai, the wealthiest landowner in the kingdom, once said, “I’d trade my magnificent tracks of land for a few moments alone with her magnificent tracks *cough cough* of land.”

The king kept her sequestered, however, and her only interaction with her future subjects was at formal events of state, where she was surrounded by a team of bodyguards lead by Sir Fytsalotte, the boldest, noblest warrior of them all. Fytsalotte, it must be said, had noticed her magnificent tracks of land himself, but being a professional he spent very little time daydreaming about her. Less than half the time, in fact.

One fateful day, Lady Gloriana was sitting in a private garden, embroidering and listening to her ladies-in-waiting gossip, when the fair damsel suddenly vanished in a puff of smoke. The ladies-in-waiting immediately ran screaming from the garden, drawing the attention of the bodyguards. Sir Fytsalotte and his men jumped to their feet, dropping their swords which they had been polishing. As they all recovered their brightly gleaming swords, Fytsalotte began inspecting the garden, where he discovered a mysterious, smoke-stained note!

I have taken the Princess, the note said. You will nevur see her agen unless you allow me to marry her and rule the kingdom!

The note was signed, Sebastian the Festering

Egad! thought Sir Fytsalotte, who was himself not literate enough to be bothered by the note’s poor quality. She’s been taken by the Cow Overseer! He handed the note to Bodyguard 1, who was so insignificant he never got a name. “Take this to the king, at once!”

“Why can’t you take it?” Bodyguard 1 asked slowly, confused.

“I am off to rescue the princess!” the warrior declared boldly, and raced to the stable, where he then stood around waiting for the stableboys to saddle his horse, Steadfast. Getting bored, he wandered into the courtyard, where he began to brag that he was going to save the princess to anyone who would listen. All the men-at-arms rushed to the stable to have their own horses saddled, and he realized he’d have to hurry if he wanted to rescue the fair princess and win her hand in marriage for himself.

The stableboys were nearly finished saddling Steadfast, so Fytsalotte got a head start. He soon reached the Fortress of Doom which, until the Cow Overseer began his recent Reign of Terror, hadn’t been occupied in nearly 300 years, since the days of Claudius the Toad. He began to charge straight at the fortress doors, shaking his head that not one evil overlord had bothered to put in a proper moat or drawbridge. He drew his horse up short, however, when he heard a booming voice shout, “Release the invisible angry ninja alligators that can smell fear!”

Until that moment, Sir Fytsalotte didn’t actually feel any fear, but he began to get a little nervous at the idea of angry ninja-creatures that he couldn’t see to fight. So, dismounting, he screamed a battlecry, scaring Steadfast. The horse began to rear and the warrior swung his sword all around the poor beast, splattering it and the ground with invisible blood.

When there was nothing left to fight, he swung casually back into the saddle, riding again toward the doors. Then he heard these words which chilled his blood in his veins. “Release the shape-shifting assassin robot bears!”

As the doors swung open and several fearsome bears began to pour from the fortress, charging straight toward him, Sir Fytsalotte screamed not unlike the ladies-in-waiting. He kicked his horse to a gallop, however, and as he drew near, held on to the reins with one hand as he readied his sword with the other. “Jump, Steadfast!” he cried, and they soared triumphantly into the air as Fytsalotte slashed the paws off the bears who tried to catch the horse’s legs.

They landed forcefully behind the bears, galloping through the doors and slamming them shut, trapping the robot bears outside. Sir Fytsalotte was quite surprised to see Lady Gloriana herself in the courtyard, bandaging an invisible alligator, but he rode up to her bravely and declared, “My lady, I am here to rescue you!”

“Unnecessary,” she said shortly, and returned to her tending.

“But you’re being held prisoner, are you not?”

“I am not.”

Confused and not liking the feeling, he demanded an explanation.

“I’ve rescued myself already,” said the Princess.

“So the Cow Overseer?”


“At whose hand?” He was confused again.

“Mine.” She smiled faintly.

Sir Fytsalotte gasped, sweeping off his hat and going to one knee before her, a twitterpated expression on his handsome face. Then he pressed, “Why did you not return home?”

“Curiosity,” she said, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “I wanted to see what it was like to have freedom. And, if you must know, I wanted to see if a handsome, dashing young man would come to ‘rescue’ me as well.”

“My lady...” He gazed deeply into her hypnotic eyes. “I’ve observed you often while guarding you. I must confess that I am head over heels in love with you. I would never let robot assassin bears stop me from riding to you.”

“They were shape-shifting assassin robot bears, my love,” she said, taking his strong, calloused hand in both of hers.

They sent a missive to King Maurice, declaring formally their Reign of Terror together and inviting him to the wedding. The bears shifted into waiters for the event and the alligators guarded the honeyed mead kegs from those who had already imbibed enough, and they all lived happily ever after, except for those other guys who wanted to save the princess but were too slow.


There was once a fair maiden named Serenla, who joined a mysterious internet cult. This cult, on its face, appeared to be a book club and lured our innocent maiden in with promises of news and conversation. The truth was it was just a way for the makers of the Hideous and Terrible Goldschlager to sell more of their vile drink. This “book club” can be found on the interwebs, which we all know is made up of tubes.

After much trepidation, hemming and hawing, our fair maiden decided to venture out to one of their primitive gatherings called “Dragon*con”. Dragon*con is a place where people of many different cults come together. There are cults for strange animation people with shiny eyes, cults for people who like to dress up as robots, cults for people who worship pirates and even legitimate religions like the Jedi.

Many people don festive gear native to their cult’s beliefs. Some just wear T-shirts with strange sayings on them. It seems to be almost mandatory at most of these cults to consume some sort of vile alcohol concoction. They also wore especially strange party hats in all shapes and sizes; there were animal heads, robot heads, feathered hats, beaded hats and many, many more.

Many folks at the convention wore corsets showing off their magnificent tracts of land! Some folks at the convention also wore only a few strategically placed pieces of duct tape. It’s not just the women who show off! Oh no, many a gent walks about barely dressed also, shouting “This is SPARTA!”

There even seems to be a cult within all of these cults! They identify themselves by wearing rainbows. It’s all very confusing. I think it means they’re the ones who want everyone to be happy, cause hey! Rainbows make everyone happy!

Pity our fair maiden folks. While she was at the convention, suspicious but ever game, Serenla “drank the kool aide”. After that, her life was never the same!

Her mind now clouded by the “kool aide” – read Vile and Hideous Goldschlager – our fair maiden has been drawn into this insidious cult! Year after year, she travels the country to meet up with her fellow cultists. Among these strange cultists is a group of “Bears”. These Bears have lured our maiden into a love of another drink, though this one is in no way Vile or Hideous; the sweet, sweet taste of Don Julio 1942, the finest tequila in all the land.

She’s now taken up with some ladies and they call themselves the Rum Sisters! At any of these cult meetings you can find them drinking Captain Morgan and Coca Cola. Sometimes even Diet Coke! They indulge themselves quite completely, shamelessly flirting with folks while imbibing large quantities of alcohol.

Over the years, strange rumors have sprung up about what goes on inside this crazy cult. Many stories drift out from the seething mass of many cults that makes up Dragon*con. To this day, if you mention “chicken” to some of the cultists, they will fall over in helpless laughter. Likewise, if you say “honey” to some of them, they will gain a mischievous twinkle in their eye, a smug smile and refuse to elaborate.

As a last note, also send your geeky thoughts and nerdy prayers to Dragon*con, that great convention of cults. For lo! It has been invaded by frat boys. The greedy city government of Atlanta decided they needed even more money on Labor Day weekend, and now schedules a football game the same weekend. These overwrought, beer soaked frat boys are now running about our religious meeting flexing their arms showing us their “guns” and yelling about their Second Amendment rights. *sigh* They seem to think that our religious finery means that we want to spend time with them and “get some coffee”. :rolleyes I think this year we should just pass out blow up dolls to the lot of them. :P

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