A simple contest - Prizes currently at 2000 Wii Points/1600 MS points!

[jnfs2014]

And the game said

[Kilroy]

You lost the game.

I lol'd

[JrDude]

I'm gonna go Ice Skating soon ^-^

[Tsumaru]

Failtopic?

[Kilroy]

Failtopic?

Maybe.

*sniff*

Maybe.

[JrDude]

Maybe.

*sniff*

Maybe.

Not maybe, it is FACT.
Since this will never reach the goal, can you just give me the Wii points to take the burden away?

[Dog Food]

Or...

You could change the goal. At first, try and get to a certain amount of pages (like 100). Once it has reached that goal, randomly choose someone to win a smaller reward. Then make the new goal be to triple the pages and views. Once that has been complete, give out another small prize randomly. Then try and get it onto the stats for views, another for posts, more prizes, and so on. The prizes don't have to just be Wii Points and MS Points, either. You could give the choice between a few small things, that way you don't burn a hole in your wallet.

[JrDude]

Burn a hole in his wallet..?
This thread hasn't even reached page 10, I highly doubt it will reach 100.

[Silverhawk79]

FIRST TO PAGE 10 WINS?

[Spam]

I thought I'd post here.

So does anyone play Flyff?

[jnfs2014]

You must construct additional pylons.

[Kilroy]

FIRST TO PAGE 10 WINS?

Nope :B

[JrDude]

Can you just say I win so I can buy a game? =3

[Silverhawk79]

brb hiding 3 supply depots

[HTA!]

Jr. is point whoring.

So, one with my post.

As I was conversing with Napoleon the other day as to the benefits of multi-racial soldiers in an invasionary force I heard a rap at the door. "Come in," I spat, like so many tobacco juice laden phrases before it. The door to my studio apartment creaked open and Napoleon raised an eyebrow inquiring why I should have a visitor so late. The door flung open just as the clock struck 11 and my mind filled with dread as I saw the dark figure outlined by sparkle of raindrops.

I must have been very deep in drink to not have noticed the rain, for now it was a full blown gale. The figure, who I guessed to be male by the broadness of shoulders, took off his rain coat and fedora, hanging each on the highly ornate coat rack next to the welcome mat. Funny thing this coat rack, it had been a gift from the Scandinavian Embassy after I had disposed of the notorious Fruit Pate gang that had been wreaking havoc in the capital city.

The man sat in the empty chair next to Napoleon who shot me a swift glance. I offered the man a drink and he responded with a gruff, "Thank you," in a voice that reminded me of a cab driver I had once met in Paris. Odd man, he had but one leg, the other lost in a water polo accident of some sort. I asked what his business here was and he was slow to answer, as if he was still considering whether to divulge the information he carried.

He told me that some days ago his wife had been abducted in the dead of night, with no evidence left at the scene but a stale bagget. Knowing I was Paris' foremost private investigator, he requested I should help him in exchange for 50,000 francs. Under my breath I laughed, as if so paltry a sum could buy my services. But as of late my business had been going quite slow, and if it were not for my weekly backgammon match with Napoleon I would surely die of boredom.

I took the case. It would be the worst choice of my life.