cubed2D: mums watching some award cerimony on tv. its rubbish
chairman_wow: yeah, the brits, I think. My mum's watching it, too. And my dad's watching football in my room. XD
cubed2D:it basicly goes....
int count = 0;
while(moderatlyFamousManIsOnStage)
{
   FamousPerson p = AnnounceFamousPerson();
   WalkToStage( p );
   Talk(p, "Its lovly to be here, im really famous.");
   Cards[] cards = ReadFourCards( p );
   cards.Sort();
   FamousPerson winner = card[0];
   Talk(p, "the winner is " + winner.ToString() + "!!!!");
   WalkToStage(winner);
   Talk(winner, "Its lovly to be here, me and " + p.ToString() + "really famous.!!!!");
   WalkOffstage( p );
   WalkOffstage(winner);
   count++;
   if (count > 10)
   {
      AdvertBreak();
      count = 0;
   }
}

scintillae

The lights! The colours! from Hellen on Vimeo.

"Well, you got your story the first night. I hope you enjoyed it. Everything you always wanted to know about the manufactured man, including his sex life. Was I any good? Do you want me to pose for photos?"

"Now I understand. If I help you to unravel this mystery, then you'll have a story about Island One bigger than the test-tube baby story. Right?"

"I'm sure of it!" She nodded excitedly.

"And if I don't help you, you've still got my story. You can go back to Earth and sell my story to your bosses."

An unhappy frown creased her brow. "I don't want to do that, David."

"But you will if you have to."

"If I have to... I don't know what I'll do."

But I know, David said to himself.

"But why... what do they..."

Arching an eyebrow, the old man asked, "Do you see any statistical correlation between the fact that the Board has ordered five mansions and the fact that there are five—count them, five—members of the aforesaid Board of Directors of the island One Corporation, Limited?"

David blinked at him.

"And they'll let the world collapse around them?"

"There's nothing they can do to prevent it, even if they wanted to."

"I don't believe that!"

"Well... there is one thing," Cobb said. "After the Board comes here to love, we can shoot anybody else out of the sky when they try to come up here and invade us!"

The dude was black, and he wore the right kind of clothes: blood-red shiny plastic jacket with the sleeves torn off, tight-ass bullfighter pants, heavy boots that're good for stomping or running. But the clothes were too right, like somebody'd handed him a uniform. And they were new. Instead of fitting into the First Avenue scene, he stood out like a hooker's pointed bra.

"Listen to me," the cop said. "If you don't come back now, voluntarily, they'll drag you back."

"Take some draggin'," said Leo.

"They can do it. You know that."

Leo slowly got to his feet. It was like a dark storm cloud rising. "No, they only think they can do it, Frank,” he said in a kind of voice that Lacey had never heard out of him before. He sounded almost like the cop! "I've learned quite a bit about how things go out here in the streets, quite a bit about power—how to get it and how to use it. Power does not reside in the government bureaus and agencies. There's no power in those long corridors between offices or among those faceless, interchangeable automatons that you report to. Power is here, in the streets, in the cities, among the people who are hungry enough, scared enough, mean enough, desperate enough to fight."

The cop staggered a step backward. "You're talking nonsense. Madness!"

"Am I?"

"You can't survive out here without us, Elliot. The melanin treatments, the steroids, the hormones—they'll cut off your supply."

Leo shrugged massively. "I've got other sources, Frank. I don't need you people anymore."

[...]

"You're crazy, Elliot. The drugs must be affecting your brain. They'll come and get you..."

"Shee-it, man!" Leo's voice went back to normal, and Lacey felt better for it. "We gonna come an' get you. We got more soldiers than you got, more guns, too. An' we know how t' use 'em. All over the world, man—the underdogs are gonna knock off the white-asses, wherever they are."

And where would rebels such as the revolutionaries in Latin america get their arms and munitions? If the corporations wanted to weaken the World Government...

Each man had come from a different part of the world: tobacco-skinned Arab, brown Chinese, black African, red-haired Russian, blond Dane, and the darkish American. Yet they all wore the same type of conservatively cut grayish suit. The colors of their clothing varied less than the colors of their skin. And they were all men. We still do not allow women to rise to the level of the Executive Council. That would be too cruel.

De Paolo's main concern continues to be the weatehr modifications, I suggest we terminate this phase of the operation as quickly as possible, before they can find a leak.
We should make stronger ties with El Libertador, [...]. Under no circumstances should [he] be allowed to make conciliatory gestures toward the World Government, or vice versa.

Somewhere in the back of his head he was marvelling that he felt no fear, no despair, not even anger that someone had gone to such lengths to kill him. He was trembling, but with an anticipation that was almost joyous.
Jesus, God, he thought, we really are pagan warriors underneath all that politeness and chat.

Grasping her wrist firmly, he helped pull her up along the climbing path. "It gets easier up ahead. The gravity slackens off. And the view is worth the effort."

She nodded, but said to herself, He knows he's handsome. Good muscular body; firm backside. That's why they picked him to guide me, no doubt. He gets all the female hormones popping.