Katawa Shoujo Forums

Ah yes, 'Gary Stu goes to Yamaku'.

I, uh, don't know if you're aware of just how brilliant of an example of parody this is. It's the little things that make this hysterical. Capitalization where it's not needed (in the middle of a word, no less), lack of punctuation, etc. Bloody well done.

Hausen, M. (2014). My Big Day Out At Yamaku. In 'Bugger It, I'll Make This A Oneshot Thread' (collection initiated and hosted at ks.renai.us).

This excellent parody garnered the 'Drink With Silentcook' Award in September 2014. It is acknowledged to be a minimalist and extremely effective takedown of the genre sometimes described as 'fanfiction.net self-insert fantasy'. It should be highly recommended for managing to create high tropic density while remaining accessible to the casual reader and entertaining to the cognoscenti. (10/10)

I finally got around to reading your amazing self-insert fic. How did you avoid cutting yourself on all of the edges?

Amazing parody; 10/10 my friend. Brythain already said it better than I ever could.

Disclaimer: I have not written a poem since, like, I was 10 years old.
plus this started off not rhyming at all. Just go with it.

Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the dorms,
Not a creature was stirring,
But that was the norm'.

For at times quite as early,
As three in the morning,
Even the security lacks,
Until day is dawning.

But one girl lay awake,
In her great, green, soft bed,
A girl who resides here,
For a problem with her head,

A side affect of 'er pills,
Insomnia's a sad curse,
But that mixed with Christmas,
The excitement makes worse.

The epileptic sits up,
A noise teasing her ear,
Could it be? Was it right?
Was is him she did hear?

For just on the roof,
Wading through the snow,
Was a rosy cheeked man,
A character we all know.

"That's it, he's here!
I've got to see!"
She's waited her whole life
Since the young age of three.

A blonde dash of hair,
Does shoot up the stairs,
Wearing naught but pajamas,
But she didn't care.

For the time was nigh,
And excitement was brimming,
As she reaches the roof,
She's positively grinning.

And out there he stands,
In the dark cold of night,
Although not the man she expected,
To run into this night.

Because before her stood a teacher,
The good Professor Mutou,
Wearing red with white trimming
From head down to toe.

With a jingle of his hat,
And a sly smirk and a wink,
He puts a finger to his lips.
The poor girl just blinks.

And so young Naomi
closes the door
The life she once knew
Forcibly was no more

Who once was a fat man,
Has been changed in her head
To a young, quite attractive bloke
Who bores her 'til dead.

And Mutou continues
With a big smirk as proof,
Taking presents to each room
From his stash on the roof.

Aw, luvverly!

Um.

Wut.

That was nice, but...WUT.

That was fun. I think the previous comment sums it up nicely.

And that, children, is why you should never just make up stuff as you go along ithout planning, or even having an idea of how things will end

I typed this when I was drunk.
just fixed up a few grammatical errors and spelling atrocities and whoopie, you got yourself a oneshot!

----
Student-Teacher Relations

"What the fuck is this?"

Professor Akio Mutou stands at the doorway to Room 3-3 with textbook in hand, ready to start the revision session. His plans, however, are interrupted by the sight that befalls him. One of his revision students, Shiina MIkado, is sat on his desk.
To make matters worse, her shirt is undone, her legs spread and a gooey, pink and white substance is dripping from her vulva.

"Eat up, Aki-chan~!"

He inhales through his nostrils with audible exasperation.
"What."

"I can't move or it'll go everywhere~!"
Misha pouts and wiggles her hips for emphasis, another gloop finding freedom and trickling between her plump cheeks.
"It's parfait!"

Mutou had heard of Misha's alleged love for the desert, parfait, but this was... unexpected to say the least.
"I don't like Parfait. What I do like is when my students are sat at their own seats. If you will, Shiina."

"B-But..!"

"Shiina."
His voice is underlined with annoyance, this is the fourth time this week she's tried to seduce him. This time, however, she was rather forward. Too forward. If anybody caught wind of this, he'd seriously need to watch his job.
"To your desk."

With a slight grumble and a blush, Misha hoists herself from his desk and walks to her own. The rest of the class stay silent in their chairs. As she sits down, a strange squelching noise from her nether-region draws a giggle or two. Mutou steps over a trail of melted ice cream to his desk, and upon opening the draw, he finds every item is sodden with Misha's melted residue. Everything from his phone to an aged photograph of his late son. Another angered sigh.

"I fucking hate my job."

Don't read this while eating lunch. I'll just leave it at that.

Anyways, I'm not surprised you wrote this while dunk. I would be more concerned if you were sober.

Saw the tag 'MishMutou' and this happened

Only Classic Munch has this effect. Keep it going boyo

Munchenhausen wrote:I typed this when I was drunk.

Whenever someone begins a post this way - it happens way too often around here - I inevitably end up saying the same thing.

"It shows".

I think my favorite part of this is envisioning the rest of the class watching in horror as Misha cheerfully sets her vulva-parfait up and sits there waiting for him.

I don't know whether to clap or to back away slowly and never speak of it again. Brilliantly funny, in that distinctively Munchy way.