A possible reply from Starkiller
Who are you calling a sick git? It's not like I'm the one who makes sweet sweet love to otters and moose. Are homosapiens not good enough for you now? Perhaps I should even report you to the Theology Tribunal. I'm sure they would be very interested to know about your perverted breeding experiments and sexual activities. Excommunication is what I'm talking about here, is that what you really what?
Yeah, I'm a crankhead, I can admit that. But it is you, my friend, who is ultimately responsible for my addiction. How is it that you are responsible, you ask? Well let me explain how YOU HAVE COMPLETELY RUINED MY LIFE!
First of all, about a week before you discovered the sparkplugs had been sawed, I was smoking some crank behind some giant containers in the Carthum Conglomerate hangar at Baviasi. After smoking said crank, I realized I was really hungry. So I find my way up into the commercial district of the station, low and behold, I see a sign for an eatery I have never noticed before, Otterburger. And what a great sign too. The big cartoon-like, smiling otter immediately caught my attention. His smile was so happy and inviting, I decided I really wanted to eat there. So I go inside, look at the menu, place an order, then realized that I had no money, because I spent it all on the crank I just smoked.
So I go back down to the hangar area, find one of my crankhead friends, who will remain anonymous, and plead with him to buy my crankpipe from me so I can eat. See! I didn't sell my crankpipe for crank, I sold it for food! Besides, I intended to buy the pipe back. So what if I technically pawned my pipe, a man needs to eat!
Anyway, I go back up to Otterburger and pay for my order. I proceed to eat my burger with a smile. I was so happy to be eating something other than those protein delicacies, which looks like a pile of cum and tastes like something that shouldn't be consumed by people. Only about 10 seconds after I had swallowed my last bite of the otter burger, a health inspector bursts into the restaurant, instructing everyone to stay where they are. Apparently they were tipped off that there was some funny business going on at Otterburger. I was then informed by the health inspector that the burger I ate was not otter meat at all, it was moose meat! Moose meat that was tainted with Mad Moose Disease! In fact, this disease didn't even exist until YOU started cross-breeding otters and moose. How could you do this?
Within a few days, I was in agonizing pain. I tried all kinds of boosters, drugs, and home remedies to ease my pain, but the only thing that seemed to do anything was smoking crank. The health department said there was nothing they could do for me, and it would be quite a while before they came up with a cure for my affliction. So now I needed to smoke more and more crank. I needed my crankpipe back. I crawled back down to the hangar, that's right, I crawled!!! That's how much pain I was in! I looked all over for my friend. Finally someone told me that he had stowed away on an Iteron Mark V headed for Yulai, muttering something about long-limbed roes. I would not be getting my crankpipe back, and it wasn't like I could walk, or crawl, into the nearest convenience store and buy another one.
Some of my fellow crankheads took pity upon me and gave me some crank, because they couldn't watch me crawl around so pathetically. However, now I needed a pipe, and I wasn't about to hang around and share a pipe with those guys. If you saw their teeth, you'd understand.
So, I was walking down Baviasi Street, and I see this parked Apoc with a bumper sticker that says "I (heart) Otters". It didn't take me long to realize it was your Apoc. What sweet justice the Lord has bestowed upon me, I thought to myself. You see, I'm an inventor. I invent shit. I have all kinds of crazy ideas. You know that cool new horn that all the progressive musicians are using, the Klaxaphone? Mine. If I hadn't been smoking crank so much, I probably would have remembered to patent the damn thing. However, I remain a poor sod. Anyway, the more I thought about it, the more I realized my little crankpipe would not have sufficed, because I needed much larger hits of crank to easy my symptoms. I had a great idea, and all the stuff I needed was right there on that Apoc. Your Apoc. It only served you right, since it was your tainted moose meat that started the whole thing.
Now let me ask you this. What kind of idiot leaves his Apoc unlocked and the hood wide open? I mean really, are you sure YOU weren't on crank? I've done some dumb things on crank, but I would never have left my Apoc unlocked, not to mention, the hood wide open, if I had one. Those things cost a fortune. By the way, I guess you didn't look very well in your toolbox when you were obsessing about your ratchets. Missing a saw are you? Oh, and you did have a 1/2" ratchet, but I needed that too to make my marvelous new crankpipe.
Maybe this is none of my business, but what kind of sick fuck are you? When I was casing out the street to make sure that no one was around, I happened to look up into your girlfriend's apartment window and couldn't believe what I was seeing. I didn't know you could get otters up there like that. I almost vomited right there. But what you had your girlfriend doing with that moose was just.... just.... wrong. I always thought Cryssy was such a nice, wholesome girl, but now my fantasies of her have been shattered. You have corrupted her. How could you do that Strang? How could you!?!?! I loved that girl. I wept.
If it hadn't been for the flashbacks of that obscene sexual act I witnessed, I probably wouldn't have fucked up one of the sparkplugs while creating my new crankpipe, hence the reason I had to saw off the third sparkplug. But all is good now. I have my wonderful, homemade crankpipe, which has much better delivery I may add, and it keeps me a stable, jittering crankhead. People think I have Parkinson's now. But you and I know it's really Mad Moose Disease, caused by your perverse breeding experiments!
As far as those options go, one and two don't really matter, because I already have my crankpipe, but if I break this one, it wouldn't be so bad smoking a little rat poison. It might even give me a really cool trip before I die. However, if you are so hellbent on delivering violence upon my person, I'll meet you in the alley so you can put me out of my misery. Being a crankhead sucks, but being a crankhead with Mad Moose Disease sucks more. I hope you get mauled by a pack of rabid Slaver Hounds.
:shock: :shock: wow, what a weird world we live in.
edit: corrected spelling. (must have been the fume of the cranckpipe)
you wanna see our corp chat, oh the humanity!!
haha - yea - the corp chat is like that 24/7
infact the ID forums are just insane.... i wont mention the 1 word and 3 word stories.....
I think you just did....
Thanks you for your quick response. I think there has been a blurring of lines on a few matters and I would like to lay them to rest. I am for one, more than sorry about you being a Crankhead. I have heard it isn’t nice and the shaking effects make doing jigsaws very difficult.
It is true. My first and foremost love is the breeding of animals. The market has been so dry of late and my preference has always be for the noble Otter and the majestic Moose. I have my Baviasi Rare Animal Breeding licence, import/export licence and house them in what to you would be the Hilton.
My first problem about you correspondence is that my girlfriend lives at 67, Baviasi Street, Block 7, Emperor III Plaza. This information really shouldn’t be given out but I believe I owe you an apology and that as such I should be forthright. Even if you now have a disabling disease on top of being a Crankhead. However, my breeding lab is to be found just down the street at 12 Kordemah Terrace (A short walk but the parking is much easier. The bonus being that Mow Nicks eating parlour do the finest noodles and I can find pineapple pizza for the girlfriend just across the street.)
Having just returned for fittings after about a month of dull solo mining with only repeats of Quincey for company, (note to self. Upgrade to Sky next time.) plus the prospect of adding the new Large Clarity Ward to my Apoc I did indeed leave the top open but thought while I dropped off the food it would have been safe in such a quiet neighbourhood. More fool me. I hadn’t once taken into account Crackheads.
I have been trying to breed Otter and Moose for nay on 12 years now and think I’m one of the top genealogists in this specific area. Though I specify, NEVER TOGEATHER. I had left the keys to my lab with Alexander, a good and dear friend of mine while away so that I could make sure that their feed and water were in good supply. Here is where I put on my Caesar Face.
It seems that Alex was called out to fight against a group over that weekend called H.O.W. He had passed on the keys to my lab to Cryssy for safe keeping . Don’t get me wrong. My trust here is my own fault and nothing to do with either sparkplugs, ratchet fittings or Crankheads. What Cryssy did was…well…it must be akin to one of your comedowns. I am truly sorry, but non of the Corporation knew about her affiliation to what used to be the Earth Canadian Province’s most enigmatic beasts.
I think the main point I need to clear up is the despicable disease which you have contracted. For this I am sorry and you have my deepest sympathies. However, the only living Moose I had at the lab was for research into the transfer of said disease from rabbit to lama to bison to moose. I have been working on this for some time and now my quarantine and samples have been sullied. This will cost a fortune to correct. I will have to sell the new Large Clarity Ward to cover the costs and my Apoc is still un-operational.
You have mentioned a certain food establishment which you have partaken of. Namely “Otter-burger?” For a while now many of my specimens have been disappearing at quite an alarming rate. Don’t get me wrong. Otter’s are quite difficult to breed, but when they do they are quite prolific. I think I can safely say that I know of a certain person who has a peculiar taste in this oft hard come by delicacy.
I cannot name the person in question but his habits are known to all of us who serve the Emperor. (Again my Caesar face comes ’a’ creeping.) Thinking about it last night while missing the joy of the flight, I realised that recently this said person had been boasting about his passion for, as he calls it, “Business & Burgers.” The connotations here are not that difficult to apprehend now are they. Please don’t be doing Crank when reading this? K? Needles to say I have moved my lab to an un-specified location and this will surely cure the problem of the “Otter-burger” franchise. I think you will need to take this matter up with the local authorities. Quite difficult I would suspect what with you being a Crankhead. I will put in a favour if needed. Also the lab I mentioned has a key under the plant pot outside (synth flowers I afraid.) You might as well kip there for a few days. I have left you some noodles, water and a blanket.
I shall be petitioning about this whole fiasco and will look forward to you next message. Please though. DON’T FUCK WITH THE APOC.