ping111

Can I write my own for my (nonexistent) editor OC?

It seems a foalish worry, but I've a knack for pedantry

I don't know when it started, but poor grammar bothers me

With my trusty red quill, your work can be read fluently

Yes, that's what my Cutie Mark is telling me

[colour=red]"MAAAPLE SYRUUUUUUUP! GET YOUR AUTHENTIC HOOFMADE WHITETAIL MAPLE SYRUP HERE!"[/colour]

Maple Blossom's call for customers was a mere drop of sound in an ocean of yells that often flooded through the Ponyville Market on a business day. However, as she had learned after numerous days of silence with a lost voice, "hawking" was really just a traditional practice from ancient times. Screaming louder than anypony else really had no impact on a customer's decision on her allocation of bits. Even so, who was Maple to break a tradition? Even with her trusty wooden stand's screamingly bright red paintjob and the sweet, nostalgic smell of her amber syrup divided into paper cups, there was always a nagging feeling that grabbing a few more of a pony's senses couldn't hurt, right? Besides, she had her own personal stash of extra-fermented maple syrup to help clear her throat when the tickle began.

As the mare had travelled to Ponyville so often, and being the small city that it was, it never took long to familiarise herself with its smiling denizens. Every once in a while, she would spot a regular customer in the crowd, and wave a bouncing, hollering hello with an offering of a free sample of her next batch. No, wait, she did that to everypony. Or is that because she thought everypony was a regular? Argh, confound these ponies and their amnesiac clones! Whatever that means.

However, today, a mare whom Maple had never seen before began to happily trot by, her head turned skyward, as well as her lips. She looked to be in a good mood - but only one thing could make it better, surely.

She took in a deep breath, and put as much oomph behind her words as a mare in full view of the sun could muster:

[colour=red]"You there, miss! Yes, you, the pretty mare with the pink mane! Care to try a free sample of hoofmade Whitetail Wood Maple Syrup!?!?"[/colour]

Also, I remembered something. Who caught the Lou Gehrig reference during Twilight's speech?

I did!

Onions. Onions everywhere for 22min . . .

I failed. Badly.

What a way to end the season. Amazing songs (w/ Celestia, no less ), a return of super-happy Lyra bouncing and Derpy . . . just wow.

OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD PROPER PARAPHRASING OF QUOTE OH EM GEE...

Wait, that wasn't why I liked your post. Or was it? All I know is that my Cutie Mark in pedantry must be my destiny...

Good to see they're using fanmade animations now! They certainly didn't make the excited Lyra hop!

Wow. Just... wow. That was a truly amazing episode. It took me some willpower to avoid exuding liquid pride. Here's hoping Princess Twilight Sparkle has a whole new set of adventures in front of her for us!

I loved the songs, especially the first one.

You dirty little flank...

PING IS A GUY!

HERESY!

Only one has ever doubted your gender! Not only have several on this sight alone crowned me the king/queen of indeterminate sex, but have you ever been called "ma'am" on the phone!? Has it happened to you twice in a single call!?

I didn't think so.

So relinquish your self-worshipping falsities, and shatter your false throne! For only I can raise upon it, as the sole sovereign of Androgynia!

Maybe I am, Maybe not. Take it with a grain of salt.

Yes you are. Only I can wear the mask of androgyny!

Weesh, it's your turn now!

When someone turns in a line or picture, update with a full post, either from the person who completed a task, or the game master please.

How long ago did CPR dude complete his picture? Is Tales still on time?

Tales has not had access to a computer for a little while. crp_dude sent his picture out three days ago. If Tales doesn't get her line in by today, I'll move her to the back of the line and go to the next line in, erm, line.

Hehe Your avi is adorable ^^...Twilime X3

I'm pretty sure it's a pea...

A chorus of "Fight! Fight!" rings off in the distance...

A lone tumbleweed rolls by at high noon...

Sure...

But trust me, I know people who change names far more often than that.

Yay! It's finally my turn to get a beautiful piece of your art!

Hmm... I have plenty of Maple art. How about STEVEN art?

Lov- err, Clair- umm... LoopEnd (...), would you be so kind as to draw me a picture of Sir Steven Magnet being positively fabulous? I don't even care what you do with him, just make him... (deep breath) SENSATIONAL!

Have fuuuuuuun~

I really did love this episode. I figured it would be the wrong pony this entire time, but I think they went along with it very well, and revealed the big lie at just the right time. Everypony also showed their Element very accurately, and Cadance looked gorgeous in the end. I'm very impressed how they merged two episodes together. However, some of the soliloquies between the characters were kind of obvious or loud. Also, the "sudden change of heart" at the end was really cheap and childish, but they did play it quite well.

Finally, this epi has AWESOME vocabulary! "Auspicious"? "Funnest" (Many people don't believe that "funner" is a word)? Love it!

I wish I had taken show notes as I watched, so that I wouldn't have to call from memory.

As anypony who's ever run an errand in the fall knows, breathing in the crisp autumn air that wisps melodically from between the branches fragrant broadleaf trees leaves a pleasant cooling nip on the inside of the throat. Well, pleasing to some at the least. The introvert, walled up by bricks and fireplaces and blankets and books, finds the dry wind a hindrance to any attempt to breathe. Yet to those accustomed to the brisk quickly come to enjoy it, finding it expands the lungs and awakens the mind. The sheltered body finds anything below room temperature equated to the billowing snowdrifts of the Crystal Tundra, and a perfect opportunity to curl up and pray for easy passage.

Man, Maple should really keep a pen on her.

Ever since Maple had widened her horizons to reading by, well, learning how to, the individual proses that each author held to their own had been mingling, mixing, and mating inside her head. Many youthful scholars as she opened the infinite maw of their imaginations to their latest exposure to media - her recent Sherclop Pones marathon had her bustling about the house searching for the cookie thief (while ignoring the crumbs rolling about on her lips all the while) - so reading more advanced books than children's fantasy had of course transformed Maple into a lukewarm-tea-sipping, lightly-accented 'gentlefilly' to whose lips a smile did not venture (it simply broke free without forewarning). Mind you, the considerable size of her latest Steven Princess novel accenting her nightstand was far outweighed by the gargantuan Equestrian dictionary that lay propped up on the footboard and threatened to capsize the entire dormancy vessel, or go for the jugular and wholly shatter its wooden framework. Yes, hard as the filly may have tried to advance her fellow foals in their literacy skills, some words were only understood in context. Take "introvert" - that's like a turtle or something, right?

But, alas, Maple's youthful energy began to boil in protest of its disuse, and bubbled up within her like a twitching compulsion in the back of her head, screaming at every inch of her being to move, to speak her frontmost thought, or even to obey her wildest impulse. At first, Maple found it easy for a disciplined young mare such as herself to ignore the itch, and remained stiffly on her bed, her eyes continuing to faithfully scan the matrix of Steven's prose to break even a gist of the plotline free for examination and understanding. Desire for activity has a way on creeping up on one at the most inopportune times, though, and Maple found keeping the waves of hyper-ness that had possessed her lower body into a trembling, shaking dance harder to keep at bay than fatigue yanking at her eyelids inconceivably weightily in the wee hours of dusk. At long last, the ants in her flanks shot up through her brain like a volcano, and the filly could hardly resist snapping the book shut, casting her gingham covers overboard, and dashing out the flimsy wooden door without a moment's goodbyes.

Luckily, the reigns of her consciousness finally managed to yank back on the mouth of the bull possessing her and allowed her to choose a medium in which to relieve her jitters. The answer was obvious - good ol' maple buckin'.

Maple struck up a tune in the back of her throat, utilizing the aforementioned breeze to carry her notes out to her beloved woodland creatures and notify them of her presence, as well as a bit of warning to get out of the trees! It was a cheery melody, one that had been played many times on her mother's pine flute. A shame that there was oft nopony to hear it but the wind...

Today is a good day to start.

FIRST LINE IS GOING OUT! GAME HAS BEGUN!

[colour=#FFFFFF] y = log x[/colour]

If ax*x + bx +c = 0, then what is x?

You have two block of clay in cube form and the edges are 10 cm. How many spheres with a radius of 5 cm can you make with that amount of clay?

What number shows up most often when you roll 10 dice?

[colour=#FFFFFF]n what is x? 10, then what is x?a[/colour]

Have no fear! Mathman is here to save the day!

1. X=0 because all other variables are 0 too.

2. A=lwh

=10*10*10

=100*10

A=1000*2=2000cm3

A=4/pi*r²

=4/pi*5^2]

=4/pi*25

=4/~79

A=~20cm3

2000/20=100

You could make about 100 spheres.

3. One - it's opposite's (six) pips are the weightiest. Note that this is theoretical probability with a small amount of physics, though I'd be more than glad to conduct the full experiment for you. I need the practice anyway.

I'm disregarding white text because they are not questions.

As for Korok's question...

Do you have aibohphobia? If so, why did you choose a username that strikes fear into your own heart?

Is my name Diego?

Anyway, sure, you can join, Riv-err, Hippo... Let's see how it ends with a picture.

Thank you, Dav! The games will begin shortly.

Probably very soon, Sauce. Once we get one last person to end on a line, we'll start up.

*clap* *clap*

welters

Alright, we now have a consecutive line, so we're just going to wait a day or two to see if anyone else wants to join in, then the game shall begin!

WAIT. So, Tales gets to pitch me a line and Weesh gets to interpret my drawing..? Oh my gosh!! This round is gonna be so magical!!

I do my best.

Previous games: Telephone Pictionary, Telephone Pictionary 2, Telephone Pictionary 3, Telephone Pictionary 4, Telephone Pictionary 5, Telephone Pictionary 6 Telephone Pictionary 7

8 is best number.

The first-ever Telephone Pictionary not hosted by Diego Havoc!

Time for some copy pasta from Diego...

THE RULES

On the first day, I will PM a line to the first player. That player will then have to draw what I have sent them and send it back to me. I will then pass this one to the next person in the list, who will have to write something that describes the picture they received, and so on and so on until everyone has had a turn.

When you receive a line, you have 24 hours to do a picture. When you receive a picture, you have 24 hours to write a line. If you miss your deadline without a valid reason¹, the task immediately gets shifted to the next person in line, and you will be moved to the back of the queue. Miss your deadline twice and you're out. This may seem harsh, but it's to prevent the game from stalling for too long. Try to let me know in advance if you don't think you'll be able to do your bit when it comes up and I'll do my best to reschedule.

For writers: Don't be too specific. You have one sentence. Make it count! Be creative! Don't pick out every detail, but give the gist of what's happening in your picture.

For artists: You do not need to be a good artist. It doesn't need to be good! I cannot stress this enough. You have 24 hours, but don't think that means you should try to create a masterpiece in that time. A 10 minute sketch drawn with a mouse in MS Paint is perfectly fine, and it makes things interesting for the next person in line.

The game is over!

Please specify: Line, drawing, or no preference, and where you'd like to be in the list.

Black for lines,[colour=#ff0000] red[/colour] for drawings

1. ping111

[colour=#ff0000]2. BrainedBySaucepans[/colour]

3. Phil the Time Wizard

[colour=#ff0000]4. crp_dude[/colour]

5. MyLittlePonyTales

[colour=#ff0000]6. StarStorm[/colour]

7. weesh

[colour=#ff0000]8. Diego Havoc[/colour]

9. Linkhopper

[colour=#ff0000]10. Fawkes[/colour]

11. Sparkleheart

12. Browneh

[colour=#ff0000]13. Imagination[/colour]

14. LordGecy

[colour=#ff0000]15. AshCloud[/colour]

16. Davroth

[colour=#ff0000]17. Hippojack[/colour]

18. ping111

[colour=#ff0000]*12. Angie Cakes[/colour]

^{1: Valid reasons: Accidents and emergencies. Invalid reasons: "I forgot", "I didn't have time" etc.}

Yeah, sure.

EDIT:

Wow, it's good to see at least somepony post on this thread! Well, would you prefer if I just threw out a couple ideas and we picked one (almost like a mini-debate), or if I just said "this is what we're doing today"?

For a sea serpent such as Steven, the uncountable empty hours of swimming through freezing and filthily murky waters, even when the current was running starkly opposite to his direction, seemed of little issue for a well-travelled reptilian such as he. No, the real issue for a fashioniste such as Steven Magnet was deciding what to pack!

Unfortunately, hydrodynamics weren't very forgiving when it comes to wagonfuls of baggage - one containing sufficient necessities for the prescribed amount of time at sea on the letter, and the rest twenty-nine totally individual outfits -, so the night before today was long dead by the time Steven had come to an equivocal decision to pack *gasp* only three outfits! Oh, mixing and matching wouldn't help remove the stain of blah that would certainly befall it! With a hypothetical tear, Steven neatly packed the puny clothes (only the finest clawmade, of course) into also-custom saddlebags, which were not only designed to ebe big enough to securely befit his tail and protect the items inside from the raging waters, but to perfectly compliment his moustache. That was quite an accomplishment in his opinion!

The sea serpent was late, no doubt about it. It was odd, though, because Steven oft travelled this route, if not a longer one, but it would never take him this long to swim there. Surely the saddlebags had nothing to do with it... But anyways, Steven had taken off as soon as he had received the letter. And boy, was it hard to get mail when you're a sea serpent living in the middle of the Manebrush. Hey, maybe that's why he was late, only getting the letter by a very dishevelled-looking mailstallion (what was so scary about a manicured sea serpent!?)? No matter the purpose, Steven had at least gotten the letter.

The serpent could really only read exceptionally rudimentary sentences, owing to his distinct lack of equine education, but Steven certainly recognized the last word:

Zecora.

Ohhh, how that zebra had helped her! Mr. Magnet was more than eager to set off post-haste to help her back. Apparently, they were doing something in "Ooh-knee-yah-see", and Steven was sure it would be fabulously fun!

As the Everfree forest slowly crept into view, the scribbled note left at the bottom of the well-printed page - something about drinking a bottle at the edge of the river - crawled into the front of Steven's mind just for a moment.

Within minutes, Zecora's humble hut was in sight, and the serpent put his very tired tail into an exhausting full-throttle beeline for it, shamefully acknowledging his tardiness once more. In the afternoon sun, many of the strange instruments within the zebra's abode shone smartly - along with a little something on the riverbank, just as foretold; but with Steven panting and wheezing as he was after the journey, terra firma seemed to snickeringly shunt itself backwards as he slowly advanced, but finally his chin fainted upon grass, and Steven took a final breath. His journey was over! Zecora's signature stripes caught his attention through the window. Thing is, how was he to get inside...?

Whilst thinking on that, wandering claws subconsciously but gingerly grabbed a vial of some colourful, translucent fluid in a simple glass jar. Steven's mind was much too tired to consider the tackiness of the stuff's hue in the sunlight, so down the hatch it went. What would it do?

Just then, Steven's underside felt... odd to say the least. In the most dramatic way possible, Steven rolled over onto the shore, hoping to relieve any pressure befalling it. Ooh, it hurt so much it looked like it was bulging in a couple places - or was it? Oh no, oh no, this is bad, this is bad! What did Zecora do to him? Was it his guts, preparing to burst into a meaty firework of pain? Or were they...

Legs! Landworthy, walkable legs! How wonderful! With the pain gone, and the legs fully grown, Steven was fully inclined to give them their first test. With a mighty heave, Steven was on his feet. He noted that ponies often had to practice and put lots of effort into achieving their first steps, but somehow these new appendages felt natural. Sure, the first few shambles were rigid and odd, but by picturing ponies in his mind, he soon got into the groove. He'd be sure to thank Zecora for them - now he could talk with ponies all he liked! But, Steven noted, they would likely be temporary , seeing how he would need to swim.

[colour=purple]"Yoo-hoo, Zecora! It's Steven!"[/colour]