(What Happened at) The Million Members Quibblonian Party

Instructions: If you have received a story invitation from a total stranger, then congrats! They did what they were supposed to! When you finish your chapter, you are commanded to pass along the story to a user that you DO NOT know. We are writing about the epic quibblo party! THIS STORY WILL NEVER END, so pass it along! There are a million members, after all.

Chapter 1

Party Preparations

The room was blank white, and the size of two or three football stadiums. Quibblo walked in, propping the door open behind him. Looking around, he deemed it appropriate for quibblonian usage.

"Come in, guys!" He shouts.

Thousands of bright-eyed, intelligent looking people flooded in, holding paint buckets of all the colors under the rainbow, and more.

If you were there, you would have recognized that these awesome people are called quibblonians. You can see it in their eyes.

Almost none of them knew each-other offline, and had no idea what their online friends looked like, but a sense of closeness was among them.

People began showering the room with paint as soon as they entered. One girl began painting a landscape entirely in shades of pink, while most were flinging their paint brushes across the room, splattering paint everywhere. Many already had paint on their foreheads, and all had created at least two painted footprints. The noise was deafening. Someone dumped their entire paint bucket on the wall. "Finger paint!" he hollered, and a crushing crowd moved in, smearing their hands, fingers, elbows, and even some faces on the walls. Many wrote their quibblo username on the ceiling.

Many hours later, the room was literally covered in paint. The original-ness of quibblonians was written all over it. literally. Mr. Quibblo, laughing, covered in paint, utterly unrecognizable, and holding a paint-proof camera, called for everyone to get out. "The paint has to dry before the real party begins! Come back next week, and thank you for volunteering! Bye!"

Everyone obediently filed out, but not before getting some pretty wild, paint-filled group photos.

~

One week later

The paint smell was gone. A few hours before the party, the most dedicated Quibblonians came in to decorate. Little bags of confetti were set up at the entrance for people to throw. A million of them, to be exact. Pinatas were painted and stuffed with candy (although many a lollipop was slipped into the mouthes of quibblonians), and row upon row of tables was propped up and put in the corner, for the quibblonians to put their food. An enormous radio, with speakers hung all around, was sitting with it's CD slot wide open, just waiting to blast the quibblo playlist once the party began. A closet that went waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay back was brimming with every sort of board game, card game, and party game imaginable, and beneath the floor, there were dance floor lights. Behind the building through the back door was a loooong row of fireworks that when launched would say 'quibblo'. In the ceiling, more colourful lights waited to flash around. Free nerd glasses, pilot shades, and ridiculously huge sunglasses were lined up on a table surrounded by booby traps. Laser tag guns lined the back wall, and more, numberless awesome things were set up. Simply by looking at it, you could tell it would be the biggest, most epic party in the history of the world.

Finally, the clock struck 6 pm. Quibblonians would be coming any minute.

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