News for the OBSSEsed

by Skull and Aderyn

[Editor's Note: As evidenced by the abundance of "Censored" notations in the article below, it is apparent that Fest broke our beloved and heretofore uncensored Severed Girls. We took these necessary measures in order to maintain our <cough> reputation as a wholesome family publication.]

So, a few of you may be aware that I went to Fest this year. It was, of course, an extremely intimidating experience for me, since it was my first time meeting crazy American cultist people. This being the case, I found myself unable to venture out from under my bedclothes for the entire Fest. I'm an exceptionally shy, reserved, timid person, you know. I did not flash my underwear at anyone, I did not hop around on a mini-golf course blithely informing an Elder that her team sucked, and I certainly did not attire myself in a toga and accost a certain optimistic young man with a feather boa. Whoever tells you otherwise is both an ignorant slut and a cruel murderer of poor limping dying horsies.

Aderyn: Oh whatEVAH. You're such an exhibitionist freak.
Skull: You're one to talk, Miss I-Know!-Let's-Make-An-Ass- Cheese-And-Stick-Mulder-Up-It!...waitaminnit. What the hell are you doing here? This isn't a review, this is my column. MY column! You have no power here. Be gone, before somebody drops a cheese on you.

Anyway, the aim of this article is to provide you with a totally objective, considered, all-encompassing view of Fest. It will NOT be all about me and what could have happened had I ventured out from under the bedclothes. I'm not the SOGgy type, unlike some people I know.

So. Fest began for me when Aderyn , myself, and our child sCuLlie were met at the Denver MadonnaBra Airport by about ten strangers, who immediately rushed up and fervently embraced us. Unprepared for this strange American gregariousness, we were somewhat relieved to discover that our new friends consisted of Rania and her groupies - not, as we'd feared, some insane Internet cultists who wanted to take us away to their mountain resort for a weekend of bizarre rituals involving monkey puppets. Oh wait.

Aderyn: I think excess Cheerwine consumption has addled your brain, NUMBSKULL. Everyone knows that Fest was only about the rituals involving monkey puppets for about 95% of the time. The remainder of our weekend was totally about a group of no-goddamned-personal-dignity fanatics joyfully finding their own special way of worshipping the show.
Skull: What show?
Aderyn: You know, whatsitcalled... that one with Scully in it?
Skull: Who?
Aderyn: You know, sCuLlie's look-alike.
Skull: ...Oh. Her.
Aderyn: It's nice to know that such an erudite and focused Sister gets to write a column each month. Well from now on things are going to be different. Step aside...

[Aderyn threatens Skull with some brown hair dye until
she steps aside]

It is fortunate that we Severed made contact with several Hot before we made the trek up the Rockies in our fishnets and block heels. There was plenty of acclimatizing to do - and I'm only partially referring to the freakin' altitude. The most urgent sub-sub-section of "Operation: Americanize the Foreigners" (code name: was swiftly put into place at 15:46.7 hundred hours. Rania and Adrianne marched us into the Broomfield 7eleven and MADE us purchase a giant Slurpy. We were then dispatched to strut around the entrance of said classy establishment wearing a vacant pout, while puffing on an unlit cigarette. This directive was surprisingly –easy for us, and at approximately 15:53 hundred hours we made the transition from stoopid foreigners to unadulterated WHITE TRASH. Mission accomplished. We were ready for Fest.

Skull: I should point out that since you STOLE my cigarette, I was forced to puff on a McDonald's french fry, which was aesthetically displeasing. But whatever. Back to my narrative. Because this is, after all, my article.
Aderyn: That objective, all-encompassing, non-SOGgy thing is really working out well for you, isn't it?

When we arrived in Winter Park, we were greeted by a whole bunch of people, one of whom was Kristin "Sexy Highlights" Bishop. I'm almost positive I made a comment about her hair. In fact, I'm absolutely positive, because apparently every last person in attendance made a comment about her hair. Hey, what else can you expect when your follicles are that sexy?

Thursday, which I privately dubbed Scary as Hell Day, involved meeting everybody. One of our first ports of call in the morning was Elder Tower, where the mean and scary important-type people dressed us in flowing white robes and dropped us into a volcano as a nice sacrificial way of opening the Festivities. Well, I'm sure they would have if they'd thought of it. After that, with a lovely "Make a Registration Poster" assignment under our collective belt, Aderyn, Kristin, Scott and I journeyed to yet another 7-11 to buy food and cheese. And this is where I'm going to let Aderyn take over for a bit, because even now I cannot understand her train of thought when it came to Making the Poster.

Aderyn: And you think I can explain it? Deah gott, woman, do you think I know my own mind?!
Skull: I'm giving you permission to write, wench. Get on with it before I realize the error of my ways.
Aderyn: You make a good point...

Great fortune was bestowed upon us 7eleven-ers, as we stumbled upon a lowly rack of cheap n' nasty Britney Spears posters. It was obviously a sign, and so I instructed Brother Scott to swipe as many as he could carry, which was four (he's a big boy now, dontcherknow). Britney seemed a perfect icon to adorn the OBSSE registration poster - she's a <cough> chaste virgin, she really likes pink shorts, she's Autumn's favorite trashy chanteuse, and most importantly, she's not Scully (who?). We arranged the four Britneys into a OBSSE-style cross motif, and then vandalized the hell out of each and everyone of her. Fest was not about Britney's dignity.

Skull: Britney has dignity?
Aderyn: Oops! I did it again. I embellished the tale, got lost in the game. Oh Skully, Skully. Oops! I...
Skull: Stop singing. Right now.
Aderyn: This Britney fever has left me in a temporarily weakened state. You can write some more stuff now.
Skull: Gee, thanks.

And then it was time for us to register. <gulp> I had heard about the infamous Fest Virgin whistle, and I was indeed the happy recipient of that particular greeting. But there were far grander things in store for the virgins this year. At dinner on Thursday night, Scotty seemed a little worried about his fate. Apparently somebody had informed him that the Elders had BIG PLANS for the Fest virgins, and that he was THE KEY to it all. So we all put our virginal heads together in an attempt to decipher the cunning plan. A clue was provided when somebody volunteered the information that everyone EXCEPT THE VIRGINS had been supplied with a raffle ticket. After that, putting two and two together was not difficult. (It was me who did it, by the way. Neener.) So we were soon all provided with a deflowered nun to service. After my slut Val ruthlessly sold me to the LGC, my tasks consisted entirely of saying " " on demand. This was a lucky coincidence since I found myself doing that anyway.

Aderyn: I was raffled off to Pimp Paula.
Skull: Was she all devilish and scary?
Aderyn: Yeah, she made me talk like a foreigner and stuff.
Skull: Oooh, nasty. <shudder>

The rest of Thursday consisted of taking photos and watching some wonderful videos, including the IceFest one from the sad souls that were left behind. I was represented by Paul Hogan. My life is now complete.

Aderyn: And I got Dylan Thomas. <hic> He'sh a poet. I totally got the bestest guy.
Skull: I'd like to see him wrestle a croc. Do not go gentle into that good bite...
Aderyn: Ya great galah! Wise Sheilas at their end know Dylan'd win that fight.
Skull: Maybe if he wasn't an alcoholic DEAD guy. <snicker>
Aderyn: That's just... sick. Just as well that it's my turn to talk now.
Skull: Says who? When did we start taking turns?
Aderyn: Says me, and ages ago. You're just bloody berko, mate.

Friday brought its own brand of manic delights, but sadly they involved the whole group and not just us. <sniffle> The day commenced with a tournament that involved the brethren of the OBSSE thwacking little cranium-shaped balls around the Rockies. These famous "mountains" were somewhat underwhelming in scale, and weirdly littered with bridges, obstacles and holey Astroturf. To make up for this initial disappointment, members of our Internet cult were each given a long, pointy, metal club with which to play. Hoo joy. Those of us with sense (me), had prepared thoroughly for this event and had procured The Club™ for usage - its many lethal prongs seemed destined to send each target hurtling towards the sphincter-like* destination. (*well not really, but butt genie allusions were all the rage at Fest, and I'm just trying to be one of the kewl kids).

Skull: And your team did really badly?
Aderyn: Of course.
Skull: Mine - the best team EVER, incidentally - achieved mediocrity with style and elegance. Laur did not whore. Laur scored. Then Laur scored some more.
Aderyn: You're a bore.

After golf, it was time to head out to the meadow for rest, relaxation, riverside music and a dolly clothes competition. It was fun. I discovered that La.. does not like beer but she likes Diet Pepsi a lot, that Paula does not like to drink two beers at once, and that Kirby accepts bribes but they are useless because she is merely a figurehead. Oh, and my lovingly decorated PI did not win anything, of course. Some people just cannot appreciate true art. To rub salt into the wound, Aderyn received the Dishonorable Mention award for her <cough> creation. That's the award I wanted, dammit. How dare they judge her to be more dishonorable than I?

Aderyn: Face it, cutie pie, I'm BADDER than you. <preen> My 'WhiteTrashTrollop!Scully & Defective Hybrid Children' was a visual atrocity. Your pret-a-porter-napkin!PI wasn't quite wrong enough.
Skull: But you advised me to use that napkin to decorate my PI! You knew that I wanted to be immortalized as Dishonorable, and you... you... knew that Stolen Scout Hut Limited Edition Napkins would doom me to mediocrity!! YOU rigged it so that you'd win the most coveted of prizes!!!
Aderyn: <nervous giggle> moving on...

Saturday was the best day. A day filled with schmoop, lurve, partays, overindulgence, and SOGgitude to previously unrecorded levels. Oh, and there was cheese. The Cheese Tour was an eagerly anticipated event for us, as we in the Festal Virgins' Brothel were due to host a part of the tour. Sisters Serin, 'Dubh, Skull and I decided to not overdo it, and glammed-up our sacrificial virgin outfits with fishnets, heels, and slutty pouts. And I really didn't overdo it by carving a plump ass out of cheese (complete with pimply butt cheeks, and a Mulder PI rammed up the, um, anal cavity). Tasty. However, nothing could have been as tasty as the sight of the cheese processional as it marched chaotically towards each stop-off.

Skull: Those damn Cheesebutantes out-tramped us! They were magnificent.
Aderyn: I did not think it could be done, but they managed it. I guess virginity only takes one so far on the ride to Slutsville. Now, I have sheep to feed, so...

Saturday night was the bestest night ever. Every single act in the cabaret was utterly brilliant and hysterical. And I did not, I repeat NOT, flash anybody. Not on purpose, anyway. But I think Sparky liked my outfit since I kissed him twice and I didn't hear him complaining. At least I didn't try to slip him the tongue like a certain Welsh slut I know. They're very friendly with their animals in that country.

Another highlight of the evening involved donating my shoes to An Amazon Runs and watching her scuttle across the room in them. And of course, there was wearing Paula's horns. WITH her permission. (The whole taping her mouth shut and locking her in the cupboard thing is NOT relevant.) And they glowed. And I stopped, dropped, and rolled in them, thereby probably flashing people some more. <sigh> I love Fest.

Aderyn: Fest 01: Where Skull flashed more than her horns.
Skull: Fest 01: Where Aderyn had intimate relations... with a CLOTH FISH.
Aderyn: Hey, you had your chance and blew it, sweetie pie. Sparky likes dominant females.

Following the final Arlberg Room shenanigans we were kicked out onto the mean streets of the Iron Horse Resort to go partay. Our virgin-o-meters were teetering perilously close to Deflowered, but we still had our hymenally-intact bootays to shake before the Sunday of Doom. Everyone got down to it, so to speak - hos, monkey puppets, virgins, deranged escapees from correctional facilities, and pimps alike. There was a pleasingly hedonistic air about the place, as Scotty made us play choo-choo-trains, and Serin threw alien babies at us all from a giant shoe. Only in America. Or rather, only in a gathering of an Internet Cult who worship a TV character from this show none of us watch anymore.

Skull: And everything was happy, and that was The End.
Aderyn: What about the next mor-
Skull: Shush.

So, like I said, I didn't do anything interesting at Fest. I didn't meet a hundred amazing people and participate in unexplainable activities. I didn't discover just how many words rhyme with Lauren when said in an American accent. I didn't have the best time I've ever had in my life. And I definitely did not make a total idiot of myself by bawling my eyes out in the parking lot. I didn't. <hic> I didn't. I...<sob>...aw, crap. <wail>

Yes, Fest BROKE ME. Beneath my <cough> badass exterior is a filling of marshmallowy goopy stuff, and it spewed forth in a wave of foamy schmoop during my time in the good old US of A. I freaking adore you all. Happy now? , .