Friday, December 19, 2008

Letters from the Front

So I got this missive in my inbox this morning from Tsuri and a scrawled post-it that read, "yo, assclown...pass this along to my adoring public...all three of them. MT." Enjoy! (with apologies to Ratshag)

Mmhello. I'm Matsu Tsuri. I am a warrior without equal. I am an instrument of the Dark Lady's Will. I am Forsaken.

I overslept.

Hey, it wasn't my fault. Blame my user. Y'know, they guy that gives you those boring-ass posts about Stranglethorn Vale and how wickedly awesome it is? Yeah, him. His fault. And let me tell you; Stanglethorn sucks. Their's hardly any decent mining to be had (which the pit boss...of the actual Pit, mind none too happy about...I may need to find a new gig mole-ing it with the Venture Company), there are trolls everywhere, and everything that walks, crawls, slithers, or skitters is poisonous and out to get ya'. Have I learned a few things while I've been there? Well, duh...of course I have! If I hadn't, I'd be a small, mostly rotten meal for King Muku by now. So I'd like to see Mr. High-and-Mighty "we gotta' get ya' to level 60 in 2 months" user hop on in and get kissed upside the cranium by Bloodsail shadowbolts for awhile.

Anyhow...I overslept. Right. After my user logged off and released me from my puppet strings, I decided to go on a bender in Org. Hit the clubs, dance with the hotties, see if that weirdo Orc Ratshag and his homies were in town so we could mess some shit up...a usual Thursday night, in other words. I figured I'd even help out my loser user (heh...witty I am, no?) by pushing along the 25 drinks achievement by drinking everything I could get my hands on. Lemme' tell ya'...we started the night with 5 of 25...we're up to 12...and that's only because the winterfest ale was too good to have just one of.

I asked around for Ratters, Ellspeth, and, most imprtantly, DangerMouse (a hotter specimen of eyeless, zombie woman has not existed...rawwrrrr) and was greatly saddened to discover that most of them are in Dalaran recovering from some huge battle or other and not down for a good old-fashioned barfight. They were also celebrating the promotion of some Alliance chicky that Ratters has"helping"...for awhile. Eh. Their loss. Luckily, my boys Androctonus, Scyllomice, Strages, Bob, and Toraizo were down for the fest. After about 5 or maybe 14 rounds, Andro, Bob, and I decide it would be a fantastic idea to roll up and smoke Razorfen Downs, since Bob and I needed to wack the HMFIC for a quest (and as much as I like orc-forged weapons, that Hammerfall sword is gettin' dinged up). So we unsteadily mount our respective rides and shamble off to RFD. How'd it go? Well.....

.....Like the hat? /wickedevilgrin

OK, I'm out. I hear my user logging on *grrr.* He'll probably want to jet back to Alterac to finish killing a whole lot of Alliance wizardly scum... Maybe he's not so bad, after all.

Trust no one...

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