SBURB BETA

SB: phbthhhhhh
SB: CE?!
SB: Dang, where'd you go?!

Cam wanted to consult with his trusted advisor in comicology before he allocated his Specibus, but he was nowhere to be found.

THUMP THUMP THUMP CRASH
His barricade of junk was holding pretty well; not organising his belongings was finally paying off!

STRIFE! YOU PICK UP YOUR BROOM AND PREPARE FOR THE ONSLAUGHT OF KNOBS. SURE ENOUGH THE ROUN OBJECTS FLY OUT OF YOUR UNCLES HANDS HITTING YOU IN THE FACE, YOU SWIPE AT HIM, BUT HE BLOCKS IT WITH A CASTLE GATE DOOR LOWERING IT SMASHING YOU TO THE GROUND, BEFORE YOU CAN GET UP HE ABSCONDS. JESUS CHRIST THAT ASSHOLE!

Michael heard the scraping of metal a few feet away, shifted his chair, pulled out his mace and swung around, ripping through a shield. A few feet away, a vase exploded. "Damn spacial substituting shields..." He ran through the door, but was immediately faced with 3 baseballs heading towards him, which turned into shields and bashed him into a phalanx of nothing against the wall.

Michael barricaded his door shut with his PIPE ORGAN.

-- praetoricDiplomat [PD] began pestering senselessBastion [SB] --

PD: I got rid of my cous' for a while. I strongly suggest you get to your client disk now! My server is done DLing!

SB: alright, I'll get on that!
SB: brb

Cam just decided to try moving the barricade the easiest way he could think of.
PILE OF STUFF
21211222122 = 18%10=[8]
...wait, that actually worked?
He pushed the door open expectantly, but his sister was nowhere to be found. He shrugged and descended again.
At the bottom of the staircase, there was a door to the rest of the house. Cam turned the handle and leaned against it in an attempt to force it open, but it was stuck. Something was probably on the other side, like usual. He wasn't going to be able to open it.
Cam's BACKPACK was lying half-open next to the door. Something beige was poking out of it...

Michael clicked a button that said search for signal and entered Cam's IP address, A Spirograph began shifting around on his screen.

Cam hurries back with his CLIENT ENVELOPE. Don't want to keep PD waiting.
22112212212121 = 22%10=[2]
A certain PERSONAL LITERATURE CATALOGUE is ejected from slot 2. Cam recaptchalogues it as a JOURNAL.
2112212 = 11%10=[1]

Cam quickly INSERTS [1221222 = 12%10=[2]] the contents of his CLIENT ENVELOPE into his disk drive, and starts it on its installation.

SB: oh, awesome!
SB: let's play this GAME
Colorful fractals and spirographs danced across Cam's bulky computer monitor, as a progress bar slowly approached full capacity. Text flashed past, stating things in the order of 'Erasing tetrahedral dusts' or 'Slicing reflection matrices'. Despite his expansive vocabulary, to Cam it all seemed to be just a jumble of important-sounding words.

Meh, at the very least it'll provide a momentary distraction.

-- australianUnicorn [AU] began trolling praetoricDiplomat [PD] --
AU: YOU ARE DOING THE WRONG THING
AU: CLARK SHOULD BE SERVERING CAM
AU: NOT YOU
AU: YOUR GOING TO SCREW SHIT UP, I SWEAR.
AU: I'VE HAD FUTURE CONVERSATIONS WITH YOU WHERE YOU ARE PLEADING FOR HELP
AU: ALL I DID WAS LAUGH AT YOU AND TELL YOU YOU SCREWED SHIT UP
AU: SO I'M TRYING TO FIX IT
AU: BUT IF YOU DONT WANT HELP
AU: THATS OKAY TOO

Michael's screen flashed white and Cam's room appeared

Okay, I can see your room...

Michael started moving various objects.
He opened up the phernalia registry, and dragged the "cruxtruder" right next to the door.

PD: You know, I'm not too sure. Maybe this will help...
Michael placed an alchemiter on the 2nd tower floor, and a totem lathe at the base.

Cam felt the tower shake a little, as though something heavy had hit the ground downstairs.
SB: what was that?
SB: gonna go check downstairs...

Cam squeezed past the complicated looking foreign object and managed to get onto the landing. A huge circular pad stood on the floor below him, making his already tight space tighter. A strange glyph was graven on its surface. He tried to keep his distance from the important-looking artifact as he descended to the ground floor, where a complex assembly had been placed against the wall. Unnerved by the new additions to his tower, he retreated back to his desktop computer.

SB: wow that's some weird stuff
SB: it looks important though
SB: for this game
SB: I'm going to mess with the cylindrical machination

Cam'd noticed the wheel on the side of the mechanism; it looked like it wanted to be turned. So he did.
...
It wouldn't turn. Something was stuck in there, bumping against the lid, and he'd probably need a lot of force to dislodge it.

AU: OKAY FUCK FINE IGNORE ME
AU: YOUR GONNA GET FUCKED OVER LATER
-- australianUnicorn [AU] ceased trolling praetoricDiplomat [PD] --

-- australianUnicorn [AU] began trolling senselessBastion [SB] --
AU: HEY DUDE
AU: I HOPE YOU KNOW THAT CLARK SHOULD BE SERVERING YOU
AU: AND YOUR GONNA SCREW SHIT UP IF MICHAEL SERVERS YOU
AU: BECAUSE HES GONNA FUCK UP SOMEWHERE LATER ON
AU: BUT YOU PROBABLY DON'T WANT HELP OR DON'T TRUST ME
AU: AND BY THE WAY, YOUR SOME OF THE WORST PLAYERS I'VE EVER SEEN
AU: HAVE FUN GETTING FUCKED OVER

SB: you're not very creative with your swearwords!
SB: you have to do it like this:
SB: BASTARDIZED MARROWSUCKING DESECRATORY HERETIC-SCREWDRIVER
SB: I USE YOUR DECEASED MATRIARCH'S HOLLOW SKULL AS A CHAMBER-POT
SB: how's that?
SB: also I have no idea what the hell you are saying
SB: and even if I did I couldn't do jack

Cam paused for a moment, took a breath and moved on to talk to PD.

SB: so, that tube machine?
SB: It looks like it should open
SB: but it won't.
SB: any ideas?

SB: you are insulting me!
SB: this is not helping me see your point of view.
SB: if you're really trying to help, try being polite instead of ridiculing the boy stuck in quicksand
SB: in any case I really can't do anything about Michael
SB: it never was my choice...

-- senselessBastion [SB] ceased trolling australianUnicorn [AU] --

Cam had no idea how he'd untrolled a troll like that, but he didn't dwell on it. He was busy searching through his junk piles for his trusty ULTIMA THESAURUS. It was about 8700 pages thick and it weighed more than his computer. He probably kept it somewhere important.

He pushed a collection of decorative figures modeled after characters from stories such as PROBLEM SLEUTH, BACK TO THE FUTURE (and other enjoyable comedic narratives) off of an amber object.
Hey, my magic chest!