Scott visits Nigeria...

Hello!!!11!!!

My name is Nkware Gamba, I am a Prince of the royal house of Gabon, and I urgently need your help to transfer $10millllion dollars out of my country!!11!!eleventy!!!

If you are kind enough to assist me, I shall be pleased to pay you a fee of $50000 dollarrs Euro!!!1! Please, for this I must have from you some bank details and your name!! Also, your addresS!! Also, your eldest daughter!!! Also, your favourite pop albums from the 1980s!!eleventy!! Also, wooden boat not less than 40ft long and not less than 10 feets wide!! Also, a small troupe of performing weasels trained to perform Glengarry Glen Ross!! Also, the secret of fire!! If these things you provide to me I shall be pleased to give you $5000 Euro dollarsss US!!@!!!

Scott and the sea shanties

Scott:
Its sea shanty time!

ooooooooooooh, I am a public servant
and I sail the bull shit sea!
I wrap things up in bright red tape
and rubber stamp your head with glee!

Michelle:
Fifteen visas on a public servant's desk

Scott:
Thar she blows! Policy whale off the starboard bow!

Michelle:
down among the dead applications...

James:
Oh, I'll file ye letter all right... I'll file it in Davy Jones's Locker...

Scott determines name changes

"Its says here you wish to change your name from.... Siddie Fartenbarry. Is this correct?"
"Yes."
"And that you wish to change it to.... Brassiere Hyperconundrum."
"Yes."
"You don't consider your choice of name unusual?"
"Compared to Fartenbarry?"
"Point taken. This request is approved."

Scott is a philosophical humanist...

Rebecca:
I couldn't work with her, she's nuts as far as I am concerned.

Scott:
And not in the entertaining "lets build a giant robot to take over the world" kind of nuts either.

James:
Which I find extremely disappointing.

Scott:
There's not enough of the kind of nuts around these days, everyone's always so serious when they go crazy now.

Rebecca:
I WANT TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD!
Where are my giant robots?

Scott:
You've managed to encompass the entire human condition into that one question.

Scott suffers a warp core breach...

So [co-worker] calls in to say he's sick and is seeing the doctor later today. That's cool. But then he expands...

"I want him to, um, check out these lumps."

*danger, Will Robinson! danger!*

"I think they might be those things, you know, um, haemorrhoids."

*Cap'n, we've taken a direct hit!*

"And well, I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm thinking they might be responsible for a, uh, smell that kinda... wafts around my desk."

*shields failed, hull breach critical! We're going down!*

"Hehe, sorry, let me know if I've given you too much information."

*Sir, we've a report from sector 9. The SS Enterscott has gone down.
Rescue crews state there are no survivors.*

Scott names a pony...

[During a discussion about the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.]

Rebecca:
I don't think that War's horse would be called War... probably something along the lines of "Crushing hooves of dispair"

Michelle:
probably Spot, unless Mrs War had a hand in naming him, of course

Scott:
It's called George, after George Michael. War is a massive Wham fan.

Scott fences some goods

Can I interest you in my sharp 'n' shiny wares? Guaranteed perfect for stabbing morons, idiots, nongs, wankers, peabrains, arseholes, noodle noggins, cabbage brains, dickheads, tosspots, f&$@tards and synapse bandits everywhere. You'd pay a fortune for these in any high street store but this is your lucky day as these little beauties have recently fallen off the back of a truck and are looking for a new home.

Scott knows about squirrels...

[Upon encountering a conversation about football...]

Gah, football. I'm about as excited as squirrel finding an oboe in his horde of nuts. (Its common knowledge that squirrels have high disdain for wind instruments.)

Scott has a superpower...

Scott:
I was told, "Oh I'm sorry Scott, we just assumed you knew...."
Yes indeed, apparently I am famed for siphoning information out of the ether with my long feather-like feelers attached to my head
*twitches feelers*
Oh my god! Pamela Anderson has been awarded the Nobel prize for chemistry!

James:
I think your feelers need calibrating.

Scott:
*twitches feelers*
yes.....she was awarded the prize for....practical applications of silicon products, specifically in relation to the enlumpenment of the human body

Scott is a car critic...

[Looking a possible new cars for a friend to buy.]

Corollas are okay. They're well-built. They also mean that you've stopped having sex and you're just waiting to die.

Scott imagines fish

After discussing this fish

Its socially ostracised by all the other fish.
F1: "Dude, I hope you didn't invite Gary to the party tomorrow..."
F2: "God no. Have you seen his head? Its, like, so gross."
F1: "Tell me about it, you can see, like, everything. It makes me sick just thinking about it."
F2: "Yeah, its....shit man, here he comes."
F3: "Bruce, Barry, wazzuuuuuup?"
F1: "Oh hey Gary."
F3: "So what are you guys up to? What's going down in your world? Yo bros, f'shizzle me rizzle! "
F1: "Nothing much, just waiting for something dead to drift by."
F3: "Yeah? Well I can't be hanging around jerking off with you guys all day, I gotta go find me some hos!"
F1: "See ya."
F2: "...........you know, that whole transparent head thing, I think its just a distraction."
F1: "What, you mean like he's trying to distract us from the fact he's a jerk?"
F2: "Yep. Come on, let's go find some weeds to swim in and out of."

Scott searches for the submersible helpdesk

"Hey, have you seen the tech support guys? I need some help."
"No, they've disappeared. Seem to have dropped off the sonar altogether."
"Sonar? Don't you mean radar?"
"Not with these guys. Keep an eye out for the periscopes, its the only way to track them but they can be difficult to spot."

Scott writes a letter

"Dear Secretary,

Your Department sucks. Seriously. It's like a ball bearing factory run by a bunch of hyper caffeinated inbred weasels. The incessant squealing is only drowned out by the sounds of things falling over and breaking. If you don't rein in your horde of furry insanity I'll come after you with a paperclip, some glue and a rubberband and show you just what I learnt from watching MacGyver.

Your sincerely

The Bringer of the End Times"

Scott has James as the Incredible Hulk

Indeed, James must be like the incredible Hulk tomorrow for the road trip.

"Sir, do you know how fast you were going?"
"Hulk know, Hulk not care. Hulk driving puny car!"
"Well I can tell you that you were greatly exceeding the speed limit. What do you have to say about that?"
"Hulk smash puny speed limit! Hulk leave puny humans in puny dust!"
"Ok, now I could give you a fine for this. Can you afford a fine?"
"Nooo, Hulk no have pockets in puny shorts, coins all gone. Hulk sad."
"All right then, so I'm going to let you off with a warning this time. Slow down. Next time I won't be so lenient."
"Hulk sorry, Hulk drive puny car like grandmother instead."
"Excellent. I'd also suggest changing your music from Tool to Cliff Richard, its slower and less aggressive."
"GRAAARGHH!! Hulk smash puny policeman!"

Scott writes the snoozy dance

Now I have the "Safety Dance" song in my head.

"We can snooze if we want to
we can leave your work behind
'cause you need to snooze and if you don't snooze
well you're just going to die."

Scott Newsroom

"In shocking news today James D stated that the "old MP3 is the audio layer from v2" while apparently of the belief that what he was saying was off the record. World leaders have unanimously expressed shock and outrage at these appalling sentiments and the Vatican press office released a statement at noon stating that the Pope hoped Mr D would burn in media file hell and may his dangly bits be used as shuttlecocks in games of demonic badminton."

Scott investigates corruption

"Major-General Anderson? I wonder if you could spare me a a few minutes of your time to answer some questions?"
"I'm a very busy man these days you know, but sure. Shoot."
"I'm from the DA's office and I'd like to talk about some money that went missing while you were in charge of it in Iraq. Quite a lot of money actually."
"Nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of, son. I did my bit to help rebuild that nation for the greater glory of God himself."
"Yes well, we can't help noticing that the $500 million that was sent your way seemed to just.....disappear."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean there doesn't appear to be any new hospitals or sewers or roads or schools or houses or, well, anything."
"Well you can't just start building from scratch you know. There's plans that need doing, and land to clear, and builders to pay and the like."
"Uh-huh. I can't help noticing that since your retirement from the military that you've built yourself a $500 million dollar mansion."
"Mansion?! Good golly boy, it ain't no mansion! Just a quiet little bungalow for the wife and myself."
"It has 60 bedrooms and an indoor monster truck track."
"Uh...no it doesn't."
"Yes it does."
"No, no, doesn't sound like my house at all"
"We're standing in front of it."
"Uh....no we're not."
"You just walked out of it."
".......well ok, maybe it is my house, but I paid for it and built it out of my own money!"
"You built a $500 million house from your military salary?"
"Sure I did...."
"........how?"
"Well you see its......made from recycled material that we, uh, scrounged from the local community and....garbage dumps."
"You're saying you just found stuff to make your house out of?"
"Uh, yes. Yes indeed!"
"Enough stuff to build a 60 bedroom little bungalow?"
"Uh....sure."
"And furnish it too, of course."
"......all recycled...."
"And you just happened to find a 5ft solid gold statue of yourself carrying a suitcase full of money out of Baghdad, which I can't help noticing appears to be the central item of interest in your front lawn."
"......would you believe it was a gift from a grateful Baghdad populace?"
"No."
"Oh. Listen, maybe we can cut a deal? If you give me, say, $100 million will you turn a blind eye?"
"Wait, are you suggesting I pay you a bribe to keep me from investigating you?"
"Sure, that's how it worked in Iraq!"
"Ok, I think I need to arrest you now before you do something bad, like breed."

"So where did all the construction money go?"
"Well like I said there were plans, equipment...uh....land to be cleared....workers to train and pay...and uh.....other stuff... Catering! We had to buy food for everyone, all the workers. Like.....tuna sandwiches and stuff..."
"You spend $500 million on tuna sandwiches?"
"Well I'm told there were other types of fish too."
"Such as?"
"Um.........salmon? That's a kind of fish, isn't it?"
"So you spent $500 million on tuna and salmon sandwiches to feed a workforce that we've found no record of you actually employing who used equipment you hadn't bought to clear land that didn't need clearing to construct buildings that were never built?"
"Well when you say it like that of course it's going to sound bad!"
"So how should I say it?"
"We spent $500 million on good will gestures! Community outreach programs! Nation building! Social improvement networks! Synergised neighbourhood experincalisation opportunities!"
"Paying your bank account manager."
Paying my bank acc - wait, not that one."

Scott bitches about IT infrastructure

Rebecca:
OH good god, can we please have a network that isn't outpaced by snails?

Scott:
I was just overtaken by a snail driving a lamborghini. The snail was wearing sunglasses and had a scarf blowing in the wind.

[after a brief discussion about religion]

Purgatory is being stuck with a computer network where apparently individual bits of information are transported through pipes by gerbils with short term memory disorders.

James:
...and you need to appeal to Bill Gates for an indulgence to escape purgatory.

Somewhere in your department an Ent is sitting at a PC, tapping his twig-like fingers on an over-sized desk, and muttering, "Hoom, hom, what the f--k is taking so long, hoom hoom?"

Scott:
He was doing that for a while, but then he died of old age. Since then the squirrels that were living in his branches have had time to evolve a technologically advanced society that remarkably enough does not contain any computers whatsoever. All their calculations are derived from complex manipulation of walnuts.

Scott entertains himself on a Saturday night...

You laugh at Australia's Funniest Home Videos? I cry. I cry tears of blood for the lost dignity of humanity and the ever-deepening sea of ignorance and despair.
Then I strip naked, grease myself up with warm butter, put a tricorn hat on my head, declare myself Napoleon, Emperor of the Wastelands and Saviour of the Five Cheeses and play Rock Band all night. Ah Saturday nights, you are my sole remaining joy.

Scott is a depraved David Attenborough

Suckbeast (also known colloquially as the '5 Dollar Sucky-Sucky')

One of the more unusual creatures adventurers might encounter in their travels is the suckbeast. Resembling a small squat, pink elephant on short, stumpy legs with a wide trunk that ends in a pair of extremely large bright red lips, the suckbeast might be a target for mirth if not for its debilitating suck attack. Latching its lips onto any exposed part of the adventure, the suckbeast will proceed to 'suck' the target's life force, forcing an immediate save vs Fortitude - failure will deprive the target of 2d12 hitpoints and render him/her unconcious until the end of the encounter. Fortunately the suckbeast has no other significant attacks and its slow rate of movement combined with a very low AC makes it an easy target. Its sole defence is its "Big Brown Puppy Dog Eyes" ability, which when used forces to the attacker to make a save vs Will, failure resulting in the attacker taking a -2 to hit for the rest of the encounter and engendering huge feelings of guilt in the attacker.