The Doom Peel
A story from Something Awful user Angry Diplomat from before mid-2013 about a mischievous slippy clown who became the embodiment of slipping, told during the strange days when Clown had been removed and people were much more willing to murder others over slight offenses.
If a banana peel is left on the floor, anyone who steps on it will slip and fall down. There used to be a Clown job, which started with a banana and was mostly responsible for playing pranks, telling jokes, raising spirits, and getting brutally murdered by the psychotic crew. When my brother first started playing SS13, he chose Clown and spent the entire round slipping people with his banana peel, farting in their faces while they lay stunned, and then peeling out of there like a brightly coloured human rally car while furiously honking his bike horn. He did this so much and so competently that several people were actively trying to murder him, which of course led to more slipping, farting, and honking before he'd lie low in a locker somewhere until they gave up the search.
One particular victim seemed to have terrible luck, as he ran afoul of my brother over, and over, and over again through no apparent fault of his own. He must have spent a third of the round lying on the floor with fart in his face and a cheery HONK HONK HONK ringing in his ears. After pratfalling for the fourteenth or fifteenth time, he impotently screamed, "CLOOOOOOOOOOOOWN!" at his retreating assailant. This had no effect, aside from causing my brother to laugh so hard that it brought him to tears.
That victim was THE OVERWASP, one of the game's administrators. :stare:
Rather than get angry, THE OVERWASP saw the humour in my brother's clowny antics. He telepathically instructed him to stand next to his banana peel for a moment, then implanted the clown's consciousness into the peel itself, giving my brother the ability to move it around directly.
As it turns out, a player-controlled banana peel is nothing short of apocalyptic in the right hands. The station rapidly descended into anarchy as police chases became Keystone Kopps fiascoes, Janitors were left facedown in their own suds, and panicking assistants fled shrieking from the demonically-possessed banana peel before it sent them tumbling facefirst into vending machines. In a desperate bid to restore order, one of the heads of staff seized the unholy fruit rind in his hand and stuffed it in his pocket. Striding triumphantly to the airlock to space the offending item, he met his doom when it leaped out of his pocket and slipped him, causing him to careen into the open void and be lost forever.
The escape shuttle was called, and the crew fled in terror, abandoning the station to its new master: the Doom Peel.
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