Alright everyone, let’s try this communal storytime thing again.

This time though, I’m setting up the rules right here at the front so nobody misses them. The first two come courtesy of Jon himself:

1) No use of Goats characters. If you can't create original characters, try using the ones in the storyline.

2) No more than three sentences per post. (People who make run-on sentences will be shot on sight—Wiz)

Now some from kedamono:
3) No posting a reply for your own post. This prevents folks from running away with the story. Give the other folks a chance to reply to your wit with their own post.

4) Try to fit your bit in with the plotline of the thread you're posting to.

5) Unless it's for vital reasons, don't try to tie the different threads together. Even if it means that the same character is in two places at once. Live with the paradox. (I’ll also add in mea37’s comment, which is important too: “I would approach the ‘tying threads together’ issue a bit differently. Rather than saying ‘avoid it unless it's vital’, I'd simply say ‘do it when it's appropriate, and don't do it when it's not appropriate’. It's pretty clear when two story threads should or should not relate.”—Wiz)

6) Scatological humor is funny, once. Be creative, not and be Beavis and Butthead.
Finally, something from me:

7) I’m going to limit this sucker to 50 posts. Anybody that tries to go over that will get spammed to death.

8) Keep in tune with the title. If it’s called ‘Attack of the Benzene rings’ (Hey, that’s a good idea), you’d better damn well add some Benzene rings in.

9) I’ll be posting story summaries every 10 posts in another discussion. Any whining/bitching should go there. If you can’t wait to start a bitchfest, please call the discussion ‘Wizard of Fez’s story commentary’ or something like that so everyone can recognize it.

FINALLY, IT’S STORYTIME!

Oh, wait it isn’t just yet. I just had to insert a stupid comment: just so you know everybody, I’m writing this as if I’m addressing a group of people, probably children. Keep that in mind.

OKAY, IF IT ISN’T STORYTIME YET, I’M LEAVING.
Well, guess what? It is!

Genghis Khan and the Tooth Fairy
Or
All I want for my Mongolian politically correct X-mas are my two front teeth.

Genghis Khan, leader of the Mongolian horde jumped out of his war tent and straight into his war boots thanks to a very cold night with wet feet. Well, his feet weren’t actually wet, they were bloody. In fact, most of his body was bloody—but at least it wasn’t his blood.

He had had a hard day at work the previous day, having to hack and slash his way through an even larger workload of infidels than usual, and had slept later than he wanted to. 6:04 AM, to be precise. He cursed himself and made a mental note to kill his second-in-command for not waking him earlier, and then he remember that his second-in-command had been beheaded the previous day.

In Response to Incarnadine (#1007):

He then made a mental not to kill the previous third in command, who was now the heir apparent to the position of seccond in command, for no real reason at all. He smiled. When you're Ghengis Khan you don't need any reason to kill people, you can do what ever you want. No one is going to say "Hey, Ghengis, you can't kill that guy! He's vital to the story-line!" because if they did, they'd be killed themselves. Ghengis was so tied up in this thought, that he paid no attention to where he was going, and stepped directly into a cow-pie.

In Response to Evander (#1022):

As he attempted to scrape the filth from his boot onto a rock, Ghengis was struck by two realizations. First, he realized that his army had suffered heavier casualties to officer executions than to fighting with the infidels. Second, he realized that his tooth really hurt when he smiled.

In Response to mea37 (#1027):

Then, he realized he was participating in a rehash of the Douglas Adams short story, The Private Life of Ghengis Khan. Further realizing that this was the third realization of two, and that the previous realization was the fourth, he decided to ignore the previous realizations in toto and just drink a nice cup of tea.

In Response to jon (#1030):

Genghis stormed back to his tent (he rarely went anywhere without storming, it was just part of his nature), looking for a slave to make him some tea. He saw his favorite slave lying near the entrance to his tent, dead in a pool of blood. "Damnation," he thought, "doesn't anyone appreciate how long it takes to train a slave who doesn't even know what tea is how to make a good cup of it?! No respect!"

In Response to Incarnadine (#1043):

While saying the line "No Respect!" his eyes bulged out and he straightened his neck tie. Had Rodney Dangerfield already have been born this would have been considered quite a good impression.

In Response to Evander (#1046):

Thus he realized all a long what has been irritating him and his teeth . The Tea! With the realization of his dependance on tea and tea associated products (damn Crumpets), G.K. "stormed of" to command his army to "find the creater of tea and strap this person down, and force them to listen to Tritny Beers (equivilant to a modern day Britney Spears).

In Response to Gentoo666 (#1051):

Meanwhile in a neighboring valley, Onsho Itgohs, the accidental inventor of tea, woke up. He'd had a rather disturbing but informative dream.
"Someone will visit me today," the hermit thought.

In Response to Ringbone (#1094):

So he put up a pot of tea.

In Response to jon (#1097):

While the tea steeped, he breathed its aromatic fumes and meditated on the shape of the Buddha's eyelids. Shortly, he sipped, savored, and finally inverted the cup to read his future in the dregs.
"Holy crap!" he exclaimed in an obscure Mid-to-upper-Mongolian dialect.

In Response to snookles (#1119):

He exclaimed such a thing because he had just accidentally poured the still-hot dregs onto his lap, and having neglected to get dressed yet, he had burnt his genetalia. "I must sue the maker of this cup for not having a warning that contents may be hot" he proclaimed.

In Response to Evander (#1147):

As fate would have it, the cup had been manufactured by one of Genghis Khan's lieutenants, who ran a small pottery business on the side and who, at this very moment, was leading his men down into the valley in search of Onsho.

In Response to mea37 (#1155):

The army, on route to the house, were suddenly confronted with a mysterious noise originating from a strange patch of Truffles. Sounding much like steve urkle, they approached with caution.

In Response to Gentoo666 (#1188):

One of the Hun soldiers hesitated. Thwok, a beefy brute who'd gotten his nickname from the sound of a cudgel had once made hitting his head (hence the dent in his skull), had an... 'allergy' to Truffles. That embarrassed pause probably saved his life.

In Response to Ringbone (#1205):

"Probably" is the right word because at the same moment he had also bent over to adjust the shrunken human head he used for a belt buckle. That might have saved his life, too. Smiling at how pretty his buckle looked, Thwock became aware of screams that could only come from people being in the most horrifically intense pain possible.