This story takes place before the events of the last part of the first story. Hell, it takes place before the first part of the first story as well. Any in game refences to me wearing Waitt Armor will get you promptly shot and huge on meathooks by your buttcheeks. Yeah, we were all mid level at one time and this is how my mid levels went….
But this is an epic story spanning an obscene amount of time and about 60 levels of gameplay.
So stay tuned for the WORST goddamned based on a true story writing you’ll EVER come across as I shamefacedly present:
MK ME? MK2, I MK YOU 2
Present day.......
Dear Ash,
Effective immediately, I am resigning my position as Den Veteran Smuggler and will heretofore be known only as “Veteran Smuggler”.
I consider the working environment in smuggler’s den to be among the worst on Rubi Ka. I joined with you in hopes of smuggling….something….anything…..but for months my day mostly has consisted of walking back and forth down the long hallway and getting senselessly murdered for my clothes every twenty minutes.
Now the walking part I have no problem with. Walking needs to be done. It’s an important job function that I wish to apply to my new job as “Veteran Smuggler”, in which I am hoping to perform the task of walking down the long room with the table in a nondescript Broken Shores building. My time spent with you has, in my own humble opinion, made me one of the most competent long room/hallway walkers I can think of.
But I now find myself with no clothes to wear. I saw my pants on a level 183 Metaphysicist the other day that, I’m rather embarrassed to admit, rocked me like a hurricane. I knew they were mine because upon my death, I both defecated and urinated simultaneously.
The pants had not been washed.
So in addition to my resignation, I bid you fair warning about this level 183 Metaphysicist. Thedeacon is his name, and I would consider it fair to kill him mercilessly in lieu of the “Den Veteran retirement and 401K” package I was promised upon loss of my sanity and employment.
Love,
Den Veteran Smuggler XOXOXOXOXO
Ash Anderson: So who is this “Thedeacon” anyway?
Den Veteran Smuggler: Why don’t you ask Helpbot? Really, you don’t pay me to think. I’m just supposed to walk in circles next to this plant here, remember?
/tell Helpbot whois Thedeacon
Ash Anderson: I will know who this “Thedeacon” is within the week.
Den Veteran Smuggler: THIS week? Wow, Helpbot is getting faster!
Ash Anderson: Until then, I want you to walk counterclockwise until you run into that plant. Then just sort of walk in place in front of it for about ten seconds and then walk clockwise. Got it?
Den Veteran Smuggler (looking down and not walking): Right on boss…
Ash Anderson: You can start walking anytime…
Den Veteran Smuggler: Boss?
Ash Anderson (looking annoyed): Yes, Den Veteran Smuggler?
Den Veteran Smuggler: Say, we’re notorious smugglers, right? What exactly is it that we’re supposed to be smuggling? I mean, not that I’m complaining or anything. The pay is good, but I’d really like to smuggle a bit in between walking clockwise and walking counterclockwise.
Ash Anderson: What are you talking about? I smuggle all the time! Why, even now as we speak I’m contemplating my next smuggle.
Den Veteran Smuggler: Oh really? And here I thought you just sat in your dress and watch hardcore pornography all day, while downing more liquor than ten Irishmen.
Ash Anderson (holding a bottle of Hit-The-Floor-Jack whiskey): See this bottle? SMUGGLED. I totally smuggled it. And this is not a dress, it’s an ICC Delegate Cloak, also smuggled. I’m a smuggling fool, baby.
Den Veteran Smuggler: It’s a dress, boss. You just keep calling it a cloak and one day someone will believe you. By the way, you left the pricetag and receipt on your ‘cloak’. “Smuggled” my left NCU chip.
Ash Anderson: I shortchanged the cloak terminal.
Den Veteran Smuggler: Uh huh.
Ash Anderson: Well I strongly considered it…
Eight months ago......
Belamorte: Deacon, you look like a noob, you know that?
Thedeacon: Your begging for a /pet hunt in a high level snake camp, aren’t you? I like my waitt armor and pink shield.
Belamorte: Deacon. I’m your friend here. Your FRIEND. The pink shield (points at the shield with a tentacle), he is not your friend. The pink shield makes ME not want to be your friend. The pink shield makes me want to hold up a sign saying “this man is not my friend”
Thedeacon (holding up his pink shield, confused) mumbles: I like my pretty pink shield…
Metaphysical Demon: Can I add something to that?
Thedeacon: No! I’m pretty upset at you am not quite convinced that you’re my friend either. I mean, you kind of suck. I spent months looking forward to meeting you, expecting this great big bad assed minion of hell and you look like a man in a rubber turkey suit. I could have sworn I saw a zipper at some point….
Metaphysical Demon: Yeah, and I expected an asskicking priest laying some metaphysical smackdown as my master, and I end up with a nanomage with no fashion sense. And a gay looking shield.
Belamorte: right on, Metaphysical Demon! I say we find us a cooler master…(begins floating away)
Metaphysical Demon: Bump to that.
Thedeacon: No wait guys, come back! I can be cool. Give me another chance!
Belamorte (stops and begins floating slowly back to Thedeacon): I’ve heard that line before….
Thedeacon: Listen, I know I’m not perfect. I have a slightly lumpy rear end, my jaw makes this ‘clicking’ noise when I chew and I’m lactose intolerant and get the winds something fierce when I come within ten yards of Bronto Milk. But love is all about accepting each others’ faults and differences and using that bond to bring each other closer…
Belamorte (floating closer to Thedeacon): Oh Deacon…
Thedeacon: Oh Belamorte….
Belamorte (spreading apart his tentacles as if for a warm embrace): Deacon…
Thedeacon (closing his eyes and tilting his head to the side): Belam---
Suddenly Thedeacon’s mouth is filled with a terrible taste of nanobots, Notum and…..something else
Thedeacon: OH MY GOD WHAT WAS THAT!
Belamorte (looking embarrassed): That was my…er…healing juice. Um.. Commencing the healing process now, master.
Thedeacon: Belamorte, I’m at full health!
Belamorte (lighting up a nanocigarette): Yeah uh-huh. Leave your number on the nightstand and I’ll call you.
Thedeacon: I feel so….used.
Metaphysical Demon: Dude.
Belamorte: Er, well as I was saying sweetie---er, Deacon, have you thought about obtaining Decranum’s Corona MKII armor?
Thedeacon: Decrawhose on 2?
Belamorte: Decranum MK2
Thedeacon: Mkaaay…2 of what?
Belamorte (annoyed): MK2, in Smuggler’s Den
Thedeacon: Who’s smuggler Dan?
Belamorte: STOP THAT! SMUGGLER’S DEN!
Thedeacon: Smuggler’s ten and whose on 2?
Belamorte: MK2!
Thedeacon: Mkay to you too!
Belamorte: I hate being your pet…
Thedeacon: So how do we get into Smuggler’s Ten?
Belamorte: DEN. Smuggler’s DEN. With a ‘D’!
Thedeacon: I’m not sure how a D would help us right now. (eyes light up) Oooooh, unless it’s a magical D!
Belamorte: We need an Adventurer to change you into a bird to get us in the back door of Smugglers….
Thedeacon: Hey! I may have a pink shield and baby blue armor on, but I’m not going in ANY smuggler’s ‘back door’ unless there’s hard liquor and a lot of money involved!
Belamorte: The back door of Smuggler’s Den…the DUNGEON you damned noob!!!
Thedeacon (looks around and spots an attractive blond girl wearing hot pink panties and boots)
Thedeacon: Excuse me miss, would you be able to turn me into a bird so I can fly inside a Smuggler’s back door?
Boglwe: ….
Thedeacon: I say, excuse me miss, can you turn me into a bird?
Boglwe: …..
Metaphysical Demon: Try sending her a tell…
To Boglwe: Excuse me miss
Boglwe: The user is currently AFK
To Boglwe: I beg your pardon?
Boglwe: The user is currently AFK
To Boglwe: All I need is to be turned into a bird
Boglwe: The user is currently AFK
To Boglwe: I’m not asking about the user, I’m asking if you can turn me into a bird!
Boglwe: The user is currently AFK
Belamorte (blowing a thick layer of dust from the top of Boglwe’s head): Er Deacon, I don’t think she’s here….
Thedeacon: What are you talking about? She’s right in front of me!
Belamorte: I know, but I don’t think she’s, you know (makes circling motions above her head)…HERE.
Thedeacon (pokes Boglwe on her cold and rigid arm): Well then, what do you suggest we do?
Belamorte (looking longingly at Boglwe): Oh I’d have some suggestion, but we’re trying to keep our story a bit cleaner this time around…Let’s find another Adventurer…
Thedeacon: Okay, you guys split up and search to the north, I’ll head to the south.
Belamorte: You got it master!
Metaphysical Demon (/salute): We’re on the job!
Thedeacon (smiling as he walks to the south): What good pets I have! I have to be the luckiest Metaphysicist in the world!
Belamorte: Bronto Burger?
Metaphysical Demon (rubbing his belly): Bronto Burrrrrger! You speak my language, new friend! But tell me something….Is he always THAT stupid?
Belamorte: *sigh* wait until you see him fight. You’re gonna want to invest in a paper bag, lest you be shunned by all the other demons.
Metaphysical Demon: Ugh, I had a feeling you were going to say that…But wait a sec, how are we supposed to pay for the burgers? Dumbass didn’t give us any money. He just keeps putting lame things like Summon Grid Armor Instruction Discs in my trade window. They aren’t nearly as tasty as a Bronto Burger…
EDITORIAL NOTE: YEAH THAT F***ING HAPPENED TOO A LONG TIME AGO FFS MOTHER F***ING F*** F***!!! F****************************!!!! F****
Belamorte: Pay? Who said we’re paying for the burgers? You’re a minion of Hell, a force of pure evil, I say we take the burgers and kick the clerk’s ass for even trying to suggest we pay. I gotta say, it’s pretty cool hanging out with a Demon!
Thedeacon comes across an attractive nanomage Adventurer, sitting next to a wall
Thedeacon: Excuse me miss, but—
Kupotek: KUPO-PO-p0-Po-P0-Po-P0!!!!!
Thedeacon: Um. Yeah.
Kupotek: Kupopopopopopo?
Thedeacon: What I need is—
Kupotek: POPOPOPOPOPOOOOO hihhihihihi
Thedeacon: Um, yeah….Listen—
Kupotek: hihihi poPOp0-pO-Po-p0-PO-po-P0!
Thedeacon: ….
Kupotek: ????
Thedeacon: …..
Kupotek: 0.o
Thedeacon: okaylistenwhatineedis---
Kupotek: PO-PO-PO-PO-PO-PO-PO-PO
PO-PO-PO-PO-PO-PO-PO-PO
PO-PO-PO-PO-PO-PO-PO-PO
PO-PO-PO-PO-PO-PO-PO-PO
PO-PO-PO-PO-PO-PO-PO-PO
PO-PO-PO-PO-PO-PO-PO-PO
PO-PO-PO-PO-PO-PO-PO-PO
PO-PO-PO-PO-PO-PO-PO-PO
PO-PO-PO-PO-PO-PO-PO-PO
Kupotek (taking off her boots and putting her tiny gray feet in Thedeacon’s face): HIT THE STREET WITH THE HIPPITY HOPPITY HAPPY FEET!
Thedeacon (going slack jawed in amazement at the tiny wriggling toes): Feet. Your hippity. FEET.
Kupotek (looking frightened as Thedeacon moves in closer): POPO?
Five minutes later in Newland at the Bronto Burger stand….…..
Remains of Metaphysical Demon
Belamorte: Well that guy sucked.
Bronto Chef: YOUS-A MADE-A BIGG-A MISTAKE-A, BELEMORTE---A!
Belamorte (fleeing for the whompah back to Borealis): !!!
Belamorte crashes through the Borealis whompah, knocking over Boglwe in the process. Unwavering and in the same pose, she falls to the ground with a thud. A thick plume of dust rises and a sound akin to metal grating against rusted metal fills Belamorte’s earholes
Boglwe: ….
Belamorte (snapping his tentacles above Boglwe’s face): Whew, still comtatose. No chance for a lawsuit at least.
Belamorte (flying south): Now how am I going to explain that I just killed Deacon’s new pet? He’s sure to be p-----OH MY GOD!
Thedeacon: MMF IMF NTT WHT INT NKS NK!!!
Kupotek (only her right calf is visible, with the rest hidden inside Deacon’s mouth and she is wriggling on the ground to break free): PO! PO! PO-PO!!! PO-PO-PO!!!!!!!!!!!
Thedeacon (spitting Kupotek’s foot out of his mouth after giving the bottom on final lick): Er, um. Hi Belamorte!
Belamorte: DUDE!
Kupotek (crawling away, stunned): POPOPOPO!!!!
Thedeacon: Wait! I need you to cast par---
Kupotek quickly casts Calia’s Form: Parrot on Thedeacon and quickly runs through the south gate, screaming
Thedeacon (in bird form): Suddenly I have a strong urge to eat seeds and take a dump on something. Let’s go, faithful Belamorte and….Where the hell is Metaphysical Demon?
Meanwhile…….
Den Veteran Technician (walking humbly into Ash’s office): Er, hi boss.
Ash Anderson (quickly stashing a bottle of ‘hit the floor jack’ under his desk): Den Veteran Technician, why aren’t you walking down the corridor with Ven Veteran Technician and Den Loot Warden?
Den Veteran Technician: Well sir, you see
Ash Anderson (speech slightly slurred): Out with it man! Out with it!
Den Veteran Technician: That’s just the thing sir. They’re all dead.
Ash Anderson: Dead?
Den Veteran Technician: Dead. Sir, STORM IS INSIDE THE DEN!
Stay tuned for part 2 of this outstandingly awful story, entitled:
LINE OF AGGRO
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