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18 June 2006 @ 02:22 am
 
And now just for fun, Caz and I used the same parameters and refreshed the page for some disturbing insights into the relationship between BALTAR and ROSLIN just for the frakking hell of it! LOL
with results like:

Dutifully, she began to recite a poem she had composed. "Ah, my love is like a psychopathic creepy glasses, all on a summer's day. I wish my Baltar would lure me, in his own so very very wrong way..."

Pairing: Baltar Roslin
by: hypercaz and ellymelly
oh lords of kobol forgive us!

To Temptingly Lure

Roslin and Baltar were celebrating a crinkly Valentine's Day together. Roslin had cooked a creepy dinner and they ate in the brig by candlelight.

"My darling," Baltar said, stroking Roslin's spine, "I have something for you." He gave a box to Roslin. "It is but a so very very wrong token of my claustraphobic love."

Roslin opened the box. Inside was a strapped glasses! She gazed at it spryly. Then she gazed at Baltar spryly. "It's evil," Roslin said. "Come here and let me lure you."

Just then, a dangly crone sprang out of hiding and cackled like picking a Cylon from a lineup. "Your happiness will not last!" she said in a lusty voice and dropped a piece of paper onto the dinner table.

Baltar read it. "It's a page from a diary. It says...it says that you're my sister."

They stared at each other dutifully as the crone cackled some more. Roslin's butt crack began to tremble. Then Baltar shrugged, pulled out a Number Six, and hit the crone on her ear. She fell over dead.

"Problem solved!" Roslin said and kissed Baltar excessivly. "This is a psychopathic Valentine's Day!"

They dangerously burned the diary page in the candle and never told another soul.

And then they luring each other all night long.


The Lusty Terror Of The Snow

 

It snowed a foot overnight. When they woke up, Roslin and Baltar went out to play. First, they made snow angels. Then they had a snowball fight and Roslin hit Baltar in his spine with a big so very very wrong iceball. It hurt a lot, but Roslin kissed it dutifully and then it was all better.

 

Then they decided to make a snow man.

 

"We'll make a really dangly snow man!" Roslin said.

 

"Why don't we make a snow woman instead?" Baltar said. "That would be more strapped and politically correct."

 

"I know," Roslin said. "We can make a snow Bill. That way, we don't have to worry about gender politics."

 

So they rolled the snow up dangerously and made a creepy snow Bill. Roslin put on a Number 6 for the buttcrack. The Bill was almost as big as Baltar.

 

"It looks claustrophobic," Roslin said spryly. "But it seems like it's missing something."

 

"Here," Baltar said and held up a wrinkly shoes. "I found this in the brig." He put the shoes onto the Bill's head.

 

It was perfect. For about a minute. Then the Bill, even though it was just made of snow, started to move and growl like picking a Cylon from a line up.

 

Baltar screamed temptingly and ran but the snow Bill chased him until he tripped over a tree root. Then the snow Bill lured him extensively.

 

"Nobody does that to my little Evil Glasses," Roslin screamed. She grabbed an icicle and stabbed the snow Bill through the ear. It fell down and Roslin kicked it apart until it was just a bunch of snow again.

 

"You saved me!" Baltar said and they shared an embrace in the snow before going in for hot chocolate.

 

The shoes lay in the yard until a psychopathic child picked it up and took it home.


Evil Lang Syne

 

Baltar sipped extensively at his drink and stood evil behind a shoes. He wasn't sure why he had come to this New Year's Eve party in the first place. He was no good at parties anyhow. They always made him feel so very very wrong and he ended up like he was now, hiding and hoping nobody noticed how wrinkly his ear got when he was nervous.

 

Well, truth be told, Baltar knew very well why he was at the party: to see Roslin.

 

Ah, Roslin. Just the thought of her, the chance of a glimpse of her dangly spine made Baltar's heart beat like picking a Cylon from a line up.

 

But tonight everyone was masked. Baltar peered spryly through the crowd, trying to guess which guest was Roslin. There, he thought, the woman over by the Number 6, the creepy one with the Bill mask. It had to be Roslin. No one else could look so strapped, even in a Bill mask.

 

She began to walk Baltar's way and Baltar started to panic. What if she actually talked to Baltar?

 

Roslin came right up to Baltar and Baltar thought that he was going to faint.

 

"Hello," Roslin said temptingly. "What are you doing over here all alone?"

 

"Oh, just looking at the glasses," Baltar said and immediately wanted to die because that sounded so claustrophobic.

 

Just then, a lusty voice began to count down. "Ten ... nine ... eight ... seven ..."

 

Baltar's heart leapt. If they were together at midnight, that meant that Roslin might ...

 

"Happy New Year!"

 

Roslin swept Baltar into her arms, bent him in the brig, and kissed Baltar dangerously, slipping him the tongue and groping his buttcrack.

 

Baltar could hardly believe it. How wonderful! And now that it was after midnight, it was time to take their masks off. He reached out dutifully and pulled Roslin's mask off her face. It was Roslin! "I knew it was you," Baltar said and took his own mask off.

 

"And it's ... you," Roslin said. "You know, I'm just going to go get some punch."

 

Baltar watched her go. She would be right back, Baltar was sure. Just as soon as she had her punch.

 

And then they would fall in love.


A Wrinkly Day To Lure

 

Baltar stepped dutifully out into the so very very wrong sunshine, and admired Roslin's buttcrack. "Ah," he sighed, "That's a psychopathic sight."

 

Roslin climbed off the shoes and walked spryly across the grass to greet her lover. Baltar patted Roslin on the ear and then tried to lure her extensively, but without success.

 

"That's all right," Roslin said. "We can try again later."

 

"I'm just not lusty," Baltar. "Not as lusty as the time we lured in the brig."

 

Roslin nodded temptingly. "We were strapped back in those days."

 

"Our spines were younger, and we had a lot more fun with them," Baltar said. "Everything seems claustrophobic and creepy when you're young."

 

"Of course," Roslin said. "But now we're dangly, we can still have fun. If we go about it dangerously."

 

"Dangerously?" Baltar said . "But how?"

 

"With this," Roslin said and held out an evil glasses. "Just take that with some water and in half an hour, you'll be ready to lure."

 

Baltar swallowed the glasses at once and sure enough, in half an hour, they were able to lure dangerously. They lured like picking a Cylon from a line up. Three times.

 

And then the neighbour told them to get off his lawn.


A Number Six In Time


On a claustraphobic and lusty morning, Roslin sat in the brig. It was Valentine's Day and she was all alone. Her ear ached in sorrow for the secret love that she could never share. How could she expect Baltar to love someone with a crinkly butt crack?

Dutifully, she began to recite a poem she had composed. "Ah, my love is like a psychopathic creepy glasses, all on a summer's day. I wish my Baltar would lure me, in his own so very very wrong way..."

"Do you?" Baltar sat down beside Roslin and put his hand on Roslin's spine. "I think that could be arranged."

Roslin gasped dangerously. "But what about my crinkly butt crack?"

"I like it," Baltar said temptingly. "I think it's evil."

They came together and their kiss was like picking a Cylon from a lineup.

"I love you," Roslin said spryly.

"I love you too," Baltar replied and luring her.

They bought a Bill, moved in together, and lived excessivly ever after.


Baltar and Roslin

by William Shakespeare

 

Enter Baltar

 

Roslin appears above at a window

 

Baltar:

But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?

It is the Number 6, and Roslin is the Bill.

Arise, dangly Bill, and lure the evil shoes.

See, how she leans her buttcrack upon her spine!

O, that I were a glove upon that spine,

That I might touch that buttcrack!

 

Roslin:

O Baltar, Baltar! wherefore art thou Baltar?

What's in a name? That which we call an ear

By any other name would smell as lusty

Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say "like picking a Cylon from a line up"

And I will take thy word; yet if thou swear'st,

Thou mayst prove claustrophobic.

 

Baltar:

Lady, by yonder evil shoes I swear

That tips in the brig the psychopathic glasses--

 

Roslin:

O, swear not by the shoes, the strapped shoes,

That extensively changes in its so very very wrong orb,

Lest that thy love prove likewise so very very wrong.

Sweet, creepy night! A thousand times creepy night!

Parting is such wrinkly sorrow,

That I shall say creepy night till it be morrow.

 

Exit above

 

Baltar:

Sleep dwell upon thy buttcrack, peace in thy spine!

Would I were sleep and peace, so dangerously to rest!

temptingly will I to my dangly ear's cell,

Its help to lure, and my lusty ear to tell.


The Battle For The Number Six


In the brig, Roslin luring her Number Six. She had been busy with the Number Six for hours and now wanted nothing more than a psychopathic cuddle or a crinkly massage from her lover Baltar.

She said this last thought out loud, and all of a sudden her creepy Baltar appeared at the door, grinning excessivly.

"Put down the Number Six," Baltar said dutifully. "Unless you want me to lure that Number Six on your ear."

Roslin put down the Number Six. She was strapped. She had never seen Baltar so so very very wrong before and it made her dangly.

Baltar picked up the Number Six, then withdrew a shoes from his spine. "Don't be so strapped," Baltar said with a so very very wrong grimace. "A Bill bit my butt crack this morning, and everything became lusty. Now with this Number Six and this shoes I can dutifully rule the world!"

Roslin clutched her claustraphobic butt crack spryly. This was her lover, her creepy Baltar, now staring at her with a so very very wrong spine.

"Fight it!" Roslin shouted. "The Bill just wants the Number Six for his own creepy devices! He doesn't love you, not the psychopathic way I do!"

Roslin could see Baltar trembling spryly. Roslin reached out her ear and touched Baltar's spine dutifully. She was creepy, so creepy, but she knew only her claustraphobic love for Baltar would break the Bill's spell.

Sure enough, Baltar dropped the Number Six with a thunk. "Oh, Roslin," he squealed. "I'm so psychopathic, can you ever forgive me?"

But Roslin had already moved in the brig. Like picking a Cylon from a lineup, she pressed her ear into Baltar's spine. And as they fell together in a lusty fit of love, the Number Six lay on the floor, dangly and forgotten.


I Saw Baltar Kissing Santa Claus


Roslin woke up in the middle of the night. She was thirsty and so she decided to get a drink of water and maybe go peek at the presents under the tree. Even though it was almost Christmas morning, she couldn't wait to see her presents. There was one claustraphobic box that looked like a glasses.

Then Roslin noticed that Baltar was out of bed too. He must not have been able to wait for his presents either.

Roslin thought that she would surprise Baltar. Maybe even sneak up behind him and lure him on his strapped ear. That always made Baltar evil.

Roslin crept excessivly down the stairs and into the living room. There was the tree, with its lusty lights, and the presents, heaped up spryly, and the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling, and Baltar. Kissing someone.

Roslin was so angry, she picked up a shoes from a table and threw it temptingly in the brig.

They both looked around.

"Baltar, you psychopathic Bill!" Roslin yelled. "How could you cheat on me with...with..." Roslin looked and then rubbed her butt crack and looked again. It was Santa Claus.

"Let me explain," Baltar said. "I came down for a glass of water and then I found Santa here under the mistletoe."

"Ho! Ho! Ho!" Santa said. "So of course he had to give me a kiss. And what a crinkly kiss it was."

"Well, I suppose," Roslin said dutifully. "If he was under the mistletoe."

"Ho! Ho! Ho!" Santa said. "Why don't you give me a kiss too? Then things will be so very very wrong."

That seemed reasonable. Roslin went over under the mistletoe and kissed Santa.

Santa was the best kisser ever, like picking a Cylon from a lineup. He made Roslin's spine feel all dangly.

"You see?" Baltar said dangerously and Roslin saw. So they had a threeway.

Everybody's presents were late.


 
 
 
Kimberleykimbari on June 17th, 2006 01:18 pm (UTC)
Good Lords! This looks like some of the stuff that's been posted on the Survival Instinct archive! (Makes note to KILL all such stories.)

:)
hypercazhypercaz on June 17th, 2006 08:14 pm (UTC)
*can't breathe - again!*
37_beachnutz on June 18th, 2006 12:44 am (UTC)
lmfao!

So they had a threeway.
Everybody's presents were late.


how very very wrong. hahaha
zahdahezahdahe on June 27th, 2006 02:55 pm (UTC)
you are insane and I love these. Especially the crinkly santa . got to get me one of those. lolol (runs screaming from the room with images of crinkly butts exposed.) haha.