Make up a false story about how you met the poster above you.

This was inspired by a Facebook post going around. You can do the same person more than once, and create multiple stories.

This should be fun.

I first met Nucky as he was coming out of the doorway to a seedy little "hole-in-the-wall" drinking establishment, somewhere on the wrong side of Vladivostok. One of the "ladies" helping to guide his sorry drunken ass out into the chilly night bodily shoved me out of the way, and hurled Russian expletives at me on her way past. When I heard his protests being screamed in perfect English, I stupidy stopped and asked if he needed help; and when he insured me that he was indeed in big trouble, I (again stupidly) stepped in to assist.
The next thing I remembered was waking up in a dark alleyway with a throbbing headache, a black eye, and a large egg on my head. Nucky was still snoring loudly atop the pile of cardboard and garbage bags where he had been left, apparently unmolested; wearing only his Xena Warrior Princess boxer shorts- after apparently mispacing his jeans, shoes, and wallet sometime during the night.
Thankfully no one had wanted my ugly sweat pants or stinky Walmart running shoes, and only my decoy wallet was stolen; so after half-an-hour of yelling at him, and finally shaking him awake, I managed to get Nucky upright...and before long we were back inside that same seedy little pub around the corner, laughing and singing, and drinking our faces off like long lost buddies. When his lady friends showed up, we bought them drinks, and if I remember correctly, we spent most of a week partying somewhere in Russia or some other country with a funny foreign language like that...ah the memories. I think it took almost a month to find a ship to stow away on (to make my way homeward), but that's another story- somewhat shrouded in a haze of cheap vodka and cigarette smoke.
I still don't have any idea what Nucky was doing there...although he did once claim something about being licensed to kill, while he was very very drunk and wearing a pair of panties on his head; and he did say that "if he told me why he was there he would have to kill me"...but I think that was just the line he used to pick up those chicks.
It's a good thing I don't party with him on a regular basis...my old liver just can't deal with all that cheap vodka.
Party on dude!

I'm betting I was supposed to just write a line or two, but you know how it goes...LOL

It was the most amazing sight....from a distance it looked just like a fruit orchard. But beneath the many acres of trees were objects of many kinds. An acre of camara and equipment piled 2 meters deep and covered against the elements. Several acres of cars of all kinds, futher than the eye could see and beyond that as many motorcyleds, bicycles and boats.

Oh my, I thought, how am I going to find a person in all of this? I began to wander through the orchard, in narrow rows between the vast collections when I heard the sound of power tools. Following the sound, I came to a man hunched over one of the bikes, working away. I smiled a half smile and said, "Well hello, frmthhrt, we meet at last."

"Welcome to my home", he replied.

I was in a 1-percenter outlaw biker gang, and I just finished icing my 20th rival gang member of the night - not bad for a Tuesday. So I went back to my gang's rowdy biker bar to chill for the rest of the night. To my surprise, I saw Melodic standing outside of the bar where she greeted me.

"Hi, I don't normally do these things, but I'm looking to try something different. I want to try out going to a rowdy biker bar."

"OK, come on in" I replied. "Normally this bar is for members only, but I can probably get you in as a guest."

I talked with the guys. It was a tough sell, but they agreed to let her in with me. We all had a great rowdy time. I was too drunk to ride home, but Melodic managed to behave herself as far as not overdrinking was concerned. As for the brawling, well, that was another story. She was in good enough shape to ride me home on my bike though. She handled my big Harley like a natural. Later, she got her own custom chopper and became a full-fledged member of our gang, which we ended up renaming from "The Nothing Gang" to "Dimension."