GYSO Reviews Part 86 - Awesome Secret Secret Government Agency Yes

Published: 2026-02-22

Thim: So how does a game of No-Rules Billiards even end? If there are no rules, I mean.

Henry flies through the window using his PSYCHOTIC ABILITIES?!?!?, doing a loopty-loop, before leaving.

Henry: WHEEEE~! BYE!

Thim: Bye Henry.

There’s glass on the floor. Everyone walk the dinosaur. And put disinfectant on your foot wounds from walking the dinosaur on glass.

Gorge Lookus: Did that plant just talk.

Thim: Eyes on the question, Gorge.

Snag’darr flips trough his comedically dragon-sized morning paper, special ordered, and also three days late because of said special order, smoking his water pipe. It’s an actual pipe, from a water treatment plant. Dragon joke.

Snag’darr: According to this, the originating game of No-Rules Billiards ended after one guy tied his opponents hands and then put all his balls in the pockets.

Gorge Lookus: No! That’s not at all how it happened!

Thim (whispering): Yeah I love putting my balls in my pockets.

Gorge Lookus: What the fuck, Thim?

Snag’darr: It’s not what you wrote, no. I’m just giving you a suggestion for a better origin story. And a better orange in story. And a better–

Gorge Lookus: Nuh uh! Doesn’t beat the story of John Smith versus John Smithson, the evil cousins of John and John John in my sweet awesome John and John John fanfic!

Thim: I always figured that if they had any cousins, they’d be married to ’em… Or dead. Or both.

Henry flies back in.

Henry: YEEEEEEAHHHH~!

Thim: Hey, Henry. Bye, Henry.

Bunny: I’m here too.

Thim (patting Bunny on the wittle bunny head): Yes you are. Yes you are.

Bunny: This pleases me.

At the Awesome Secret Secret Government Agency Yes, The ASSGAY…

Machine Operator: Sir! We’re getting a telegram!

Sir: Huh? Care to repeat that?

Machine Operator: Sir! We’re getting a telegram!

Sir: Yeah, that’s what I thought I heard. Since when do we have telegrams?

Machine Operator: No, I mean the app, Telegram. I set up a secret government account on it.

Sir: SHIT! Tell me what you found! Quit fucking around!

Machine Operator: Uhh, porn bots for one. There’s a lot of hot singles in our area.

Sir: Send them cooling units. A household freezer will do if we’re low on supply. Turns out, ASSGAY doesn’t get a lot of funding. Could never figure out why. Anything else?

Machine Operator: Uh… Some guy from a different branch named… Uh… Albert? He says–

Sir slaps slams his fists against the post fist on his table. Which flips perfectly to land back on its feet. It’s a cat-themed table, so it works out logistically speaking. Nobody thinks this is weird–it’s ASSGAY, after all.

Sir: WHAT? CARE TO REPEAT THAT?!

Machine Operator: Yes, sir. We’re getting a telegram!

Sir: Oh my sweet baby Erection Babe… Just get on with it…

Machine Operator: Aye, sir. Let’s see…

Albert (typing into his evil rectangle): There. That’ll set things in motion.

Thim: Are we not all always in motion? Is stagnation not just another name for death? Who are we, but–

Bunny: Father. Lay off the octuple distilled vodka.

Thim: NEVEAH!

Albert: I’m setting the No Rules Billiards… uh… incoming disaster up. Because, let’s be honest, if anyone within a two-person degree of separation of you does anything, it’ll become a disaster. Hell, even I’m scared of making myself breakfast these days–who knows what demons’ll show up for a bagel. But those are my orders, and I do them even when they’re wrong, because blah blah blah duty on Debra’s desk blah blah.

Snag’darr: I don’t know what you’re on about. It’s not like people will abandon the worlds most popular sport, Made-Up-Ball.

Albert: Not unless the most chaotic person in the world endorses it.

Everyone in the room turns to look…

At Henry?!

Henry: huh?

Thim does a quadruple backflip. Just hovering in the air for a bit while he completes a Binding of Isaac run, because he didn’t like gravity for the time the flip happens. He then chugs another bottle of ethanol, becoming instantly sober.

He snaps his fingers. All of them. At once. Otherwise known as a ‘clap’.

Thim: I’ll do it.

Snag’darr: Actually, Thim I think you can sit this one ou–

Thim: And I’ll fucking do it again.

Sara: I’m here, too. And we’re not talking about your murder charges. Or your murder discharges. Or your murder phone running out of murder charge.

Snag’darr: Sure, sometimes Thim does things and it goes a bit haywire. But considering we made a part of the Earth lift off into orbit, I’m sure things can’t turn much worse.

Thim sneezes. The snot fumes into a vent, sticking to a fan that launches it into a window. It sticks to a plant on the windowsill, causing it to smell like pancakes for some insane plot-reasons. A bird lands on the sill to eat it, only to instantly die from the level of alcohol in the snot. The bird falls, spreading its wings one last time to crash into the GYSO Mansion Playboy Mansion living room window.

It has a letter in its beak.

Thim: Read it.

Everyone is very scared.

Henry: i’ll do it

It reads:

LOL, LMAO EVEN

Albert (sweating bullets. and sweat): You got the job.

Thim (becoming drunk again in an instant): Yeeeee boi! Wait, does this mean I have to do something?

Snag’darr: He’s lucky none of us can kill him.

Everyone Else, including Thim: Yeah.

The city–being anthropomorphize for this bit–shudders in fear, causing a category four earthquake. For some reason, it feels like it should be on fire right now.

…

Any second now.

The dies.

The end.