Origin: Hail, Mary
Types: Filk, Miho, Parody
Hail Miho, darkly cute, the Gothic powers are with thee; dominate art thou over the dead, and dominate art thou among your disciples yet living.

Magical Miho, Gamer of Power, use and guide us your thralls, now and until our death. Amen.
Origin: Ave, Maria
Types: Filk, Miho, Parody, Humor
Ave Miho-chan,
Gothia plentum,
Waltah est tecum;
Depressitus tu in lolitaribus,
Et depressitus Grotto Malae Tui, Desu!

Un-Sancta Miho,
Mater Zombi,
Lascivio nobis baka-raveri,
Nunc et whenever et suitibus.

Origin: Hail, Mary
Types: Filk, Miho, Parody, Humor
Hail Miho
full of grace
sweet of ass
and fair of face
marching through
that darkest place
hit by a cannon
what a waste.
Origin: Our Father
Types: Filk, Miho, Parody, Humor
Our Miho, which art in ribbons,
hallowed be thy name;
thy zombies come;
thy manipulations be done,
in Shinjuku as it is in Shibuya.
Give us this night our nightly pie.
And forgive us our 1337ness,
as we forgive them that speak 1337 to us.
And lead us into temptation (often);
And deliver us to the Cave of Evil.
For thine is the Necrowombicon,
the power rave, and the gothic clothing,
For ever and ever.
A song of Aiko: Largo-sama is my t34ch3r. I shall not ph41l.
He 'ports me to 4w3s0m3 new map packs; he leads me past arbitrary death-drops.
He makes sure I respawn; He leads me in the secret back entrance to the enemy's base (woot) for his team's sake.
Even when I walk into a thread filled with Mihoists, I will fear no 3vil, for you are with me-- your b34tdownz and your ravings-- they comfort me.
You placed powerups in my reach where my enemies can see them; you made me team leader. My score had an integer overflow error. (It's about -2.2 billion right now.)
May only worthy foes pursue me all the days of my life, and I will dwell Largo-sama's classroom until he or I am thrown out of the country.

(There are many translations, so here's the one I used)
1. A song of David. The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
2. He causes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside still waters.
3. He restores my soul; He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name's sake.
4. Even when I walk in the valley of darkness, I will fear no evil for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff-they comfort me.
5. You set a table before me in the presence of my adversaries; You anointed my head with oil; my cup overflows.
6. May only goodness and kindness pursue me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for length of days.
I must not ph34r.

Ph34r is teh mind-killer.

Ph34r is teh little frag that brings m4d b34tdownz.

I will face my ph34r.

I will permit it to pass through my killzone.

And when it has gone past me, I will camp its spawn point.

Where teh Ph34r respawns, I will pwnz0r it.

Only its lewt will remain.
Origin: Psalm 2 etc
Recipe 2:1-12 Booc of von Sudden

1 Why do the Factions conspire
and the members plot in vain?

2 The Leaders of the city take their stand
and the Factionelst gather together
against the RaZ
and against his Anointed Ones. [b]

3 "Let us destroy thier resturant," they say,
"and kill thier food."

4 The Zilla imposed on the roof top laughs;
and fire balls rain down upon them..

5 Then he eats them in his hunger
and cooks them with his chefs, saying,

6 "I have installed my clan
on M$, and thier ruined lab.

7 I will proclaim the words of the RaZ
He said to me, "You are my Chef;
This day you shall cook in my name.

8 Ask of me,
and I will make the Factions your inheritance,
the ends of Megatokyo your possession.

9 You will rule them with an iron ladel;
you will dash them to pieces like dinner plates."

10 Therefore, you leaders, be wise;
be warned, you rulers of the clans

11 Serve the RaZ with fear
and rejoice with trembling.

12 Kiss the Cook, lest he be angry
and you be included in your meal,
for his kitchen can blow up in a moment.
Frealess are all who order a meal from him.

(Psaml 2)

Patlabor 11:35

Gameru burped

(John 11:35)

1 FPS 2:2-5

2 A Gamer then must be awesome, the master of ,any games, vigilant, skilled, masterful, apt to give aide to his comrades;

3Not given to whining, nor a team-killer, not hording of all the items; but patient, not a camper , not spawn-fragger;

4One that pwns well his own games, having his bots in subjection with all gravity;

5(For if a man know not how to pwn his own bot, how shall he take on of the whole of the net?)

(1 Timothy 2:2-5)
Types: Filk, Miho, Parody, Humor
Song of Shinjuku

Chapter 1

The Darkly Cute

1 Sareth's Song of Shinjuku.
2 Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth--for Largo's love is more delightful than pie.
3 Pleasing is the fragrance of your cheap cologne; your name is like cologne poured out. No wonder the schoolgirls love you!
4 Take me away with you--let us hurry! Let the 1337 M4st3r bring me into his one room apartment.

The Class

We rejoice and delight in you; we will praise your love more than pie. How right they are to game with you!

The Darkly Cute

5 Darkly Cute am I, yet lovely, O daughters of Shinjuku, dark like the lights of the Cave of Evil, like the night life of Shinjuku.
6 Do not stare at me because I am Darkly Cute, because I am darkened by the night. My mother's sons were angry with me and made me take care of the servers; my own server I have neglected.
7 Tell me, you whom I love, where you pwnz your frags and where you camp your spawn points. Why should I be like a newb beside the frags of your friends?

The Class

8 If you do not know, most 1337 of women, camp the respawn points of n00bs and make your frags by teh enemy base.

1337 M4st3r

9 I liken you, my darling, to Seamus when she took off her armor.
10 Your hair is beautiful with ribbons, your neck with black choker.
11 We will make you earrings of gold, designed like skullz.

The Darkly Cute

12 While the 1337 M4st3r was at his game console, my hacking took over his character.
13 My M4st3r is to me a corset of black pressing tightly my breasts.

1337 M4st3r

14 My D4rkly Cute 1!!11!!!!!111! is to me a beowulf cluster from the 13373st fata1ity hardware.
15 How 1337 you are, my PKer! Oh, how sw33t! Your eyes are LEDs.

The Darkly Cute

16 How handsome you are, my M4st3r! Oh, how skilled! And our bed is verdant.

1337 M4st3r
17 The wireless signal of our house is strong; our downloads are fast.
Teh Story of Me Hoe
An Oirish-Bhuddist Parable
Traslayted boi meself, Shoka

Oi plowed me land with Miho day after day, year after year. 'Twas hard wark, but teh harvest was plentiful. And yet, one day Oi couldna help but ask meself, "Why by all teh varyous saynts am Oi workin' so hard? Loif is beerless an' boring! Where is me loif heading?"

Shartly afterwards, a monk came to me house. Askin' for alms, he war. Teh monk looked shiftless an' happy, which Oi foun' considerably vexin'. Being a monk and living an unencumbered loif seemed loik 'eaven. Aye, 'twas a rare good oidea! Roight cheerfully Oi made up me moind to give up ever' blessed thing an' become a monk.

As soon as Oi left me house, Oi suddenly felt how empty war me hands. Oi was so used to holdin' Miho in me hands that without Miho Oi now felt a wee bit lost. So back Oi went to me house, picked up Miho, and troid 'ard t'think of what Oi could do wit' hersilf. Aye, 'twar fine, war Miho. 'Er shift war smooth and shoiny from daily handlin'. 'Twould be heartbreaking t'thrower away. "Aye, then," Oi thinks, "Oi'll wrap 'er up an' put'er away." Oi found a secure place in teh house t'hoid'er. Now everything was settled. With me moind at ease, Oi left me house at last.

Oi did all Oi cud to fulfill teh requirements t'be a true monk. However, Oi cud hardly resist thinking o' Miho whene'er Oi came across green Paddys. Every now and thin, Oi'd rush back home just to feel Miho and then return to teh charch.

Toim went a-passin' boi. After seven or eight years, Oi felt that somethin' war missing. "Why haven't Oi fulfilled me dream o' becoming a free, happy monk after havin' troid very hard to cultivate me considerable marality? Thar's something Oi haven't had teh hart to let go o'. Now it's toim to get rid o' me barden!" So Oi rushed back 'ome, picked up Miho and threw her into a lake. Splash, thar she wint! "Oi've won! Oi've dunnit!" Oi couldna resist croiyin' aloud.

Just at that moment, a king, leading his band 'o cattle thieves, happened to pass boi. He overhard me croi and stepped up t' ask o' me, "What's with yar caterwaulin' thin", sez he. "F'what did ye win, ye reprobate?" "Oi've conquered teh divils in me hart," sez Oi. "Oi've let all me bardens go."

Teh king saw that Oi war happy an' free from earthly bardens and sich. Teh king thought to himsilf, "Now Oi've kipped teh cattle. Victory is moin. But am Oi as happy as this dirty bog trottin' profligate monk? Sure, 'tis not a thought t'be a-bourn! 'Tis no real vict'ry." Then and there, teh king realized that although he had won teh war, he war no real winner, but a common parson bardened wit' loif's vexations. He realized that in order to become a real winner an' a saint, ye have to conquer teh divils in yer hart.

Apologies an' sich t'Chen Yeng

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