[ Posting As is a new feature in which I will be writing a post in the exaggerated style of one of my fellow bloggers. Thus securing their eternal disdain and contempt most likely. This week's honor goes to Mord Fiddle's Fiddler's Edge ]
Sweaty Dream
Proof that Camembert cheese can sometimes be runny
Screech, 'O Godess, of the forum's bastard sons who brought forth a frothy sea of discontent against the froth frozen shores of Reykjavik, and stirred the stirry bits of capsuleers into a raging semiliterate rebellion against their New Eden masters.
Screech as one of them now enters the front door of the CCP corporate HQ and politely waits his appointed time in the comfortable waiting area. Possibly checking his skill train on his phone.
"Enter'eth," quoth Hilmar, "What is the meaning of this appointment made upon such haste by one such as you? Scabby and postule ridden as thine face doth appear, here within my magnificent IKEA decorated offices?" He paused for effect, "You don't have any weapons do you?"
"I represent thine customers mighty one," answered the guest, pleasantly, "Upon thee and thine they do payest a monthly subscription, 25% of which is through in-game means. They are perplexed more so than usual I dare say."
"Still they remain unhappy?!" rumbled Hilmar, his lunch playing tricks in his belly, "In what way? I mean seriously... I mean have I not succumbed and brought forth overlarge changes upon this vast and complex universe? Have I not placated their every desire? Have I..." He paused momentarily, "To be honest, I forget where I am in the monologue?"
"No worries." The guest said proudly, "I can see that thou art vexed. Both by the minor magnitude of the newest indecency and by your own perplexed puss. Perhaps I can sooth your troubles by clearly stating the issue at hand?"
At this Hilmar smote the arm of his IKEA chair, from which several of those annoying wooden pegs popped forth:
"What can it be this time!?! You! You blogger person of some repute, are you not the fan voice of this community? Have you not explained to them just how hard we work here and how little quality time we spend with our own families?"
"Wut?" replied the now exposed guest, "I like bacon as much as the next man, but once eaten it is no longer bacon!"
Hilmar sighed, sore afraid to offend the guest blogger. "Tell me thus, clearly and in modern English."
His mind a storm front of stormy thoughts and swirling hazard lights of sarcasm, the guest blogger decided to play it straight. "It appears the player base does not enjoy the new Unified Inventory System as much as predicted. The forums are aflame in wroth and bad words flung hither and yonder."
"Aye," Hilmar sagged a touch in his seat, as much from regret as from the missing wooden pegs. "We have brought forth many patches since launch day, and this you know well. I suspect this dialogue is nothing more than parody intended to poke fun at some sodden fellow blogger!"
At his words the guest blogger cried out, "Touche!! Thine wisdom hast seen clearly thru me and out the other side. I chide you not, for indeed I find the improved UI quite helpful and am sore perplexed at the wroth displayed on forums I do not read."
At this Hilmar did smile and turn towards another conference room.
"I have no power to lay waste upon New Eden for my personal assets are mostly in one convenient hanger and I do not maintain POS, mine, plex or otherwise make iskies the old fashioned way. Forsooth, where would I goest if I did leave New Eden?"
Hilmar smiled as he walked away, "DUST514 my friend."
The blogger dropped to his knees and shouted, "Tanks? Tanks!?!"
The assembled hosts nodded as this seemed like it might be fun.
( The original post this is based on can be found here. I highly recommend it.)
Sweaty Dream
Proof that Camembert cheese can sometimes be runny
Screech, 'O Godess, of the forum's bastard sons who brought forth a frothy sea of discontent against the froth frozen shores of Reykjavik, and stirred the stirry bits of capsuleers into a raging semiliterate rebellion against their New Eden masters.
Screech as one of them now enters the front door of the CCP corporate HQ and politely waits his appointed time in the comfortable waiting area. Possibly checking his skill train on his phone.
"Enter'eth," quoth Hilmar, "What is the meaning of this appointment made upon such haste by one such as you? Scabby and postule ridden as thine face doth appear, here within my magnificent IKEA decorated offices?" He paused for effect, "You don't have any weapons do you?"
"I represent thine customers mighty one," answered the guest, pleasantly, "Upon thee and thine they do payest a monthly subscription, 25% of which is through in-game means. They are perplexed more so than usual I dare say."
"Still they remain unhappy?!" rumbled Hilmar, his lunch playing tricks in his belly, "In what way? I mean seriously... I mean have I not succumbed and brought forth overlarge changes upon this vast and complex universe? Have I not placated their every desire? Have I..." He paused momentarily, "To be honest, I forget where I am in the monologue?"
"No worries." The guest said proudly, "I can see that thou art vexed. Both by the minor magnitude of the newest indecency and by your own perplexed puss. Perhaps I can sooth your troubles by clearly stating the issue at hand?"
At this Hilmar smote the arm of his IKEA chair, from which several of those annoying wooden pegs popped forth:
"What can it be this time!?! You! You blogger person of some repute, are you not the fan voice of this community? Have you not explained to them just how hard we work here and how little quality time we spend with our own families?"
"Wut?" replied the now exposed guest, "I like bacon as much as the next man, but once eaten it is no longer bacon!"
Hilmar sighed, sore afraid to offend the guest blogger. "Tell me thus, clearly and in modern English."
His mind a storm front of stormy thoughts and swirling hazard lights of sarcasm, the guest blogger decided to play it straight. "It appears the player base does not enjoy the new Unified Inventory System as much as predicted. The forums are aflame in wroth and bad words flung hither and yonder."
"Aye," Hilmar sagged a touch in his seat, as much from regret as from the missing wooden pegs. "We have brought forth many patches since launch day, and this you know well. I suspect this dialogue is nothing more than parody intended to poke fun at some sodden fellow blogger!"
At his words the guest blogger cried out, "Touche!! Thine wisdom hast seen clearly thru me and out the other side. I chide you not, for indeed I find the improved UI quite helpful and am sore perplexed at the wroth displayed on forums I do not read."
At this Hilmar did smile and turn towards another conference room.
"I have no power to lay waste upon New Eden for my personal assets are mostly in one convenient hanger and I do not maintain POS, mine, plex or otherwise make iskies the old fashioned way. Forsooth, where would I goest if I did leave New Eden?"
Hilmar smiled as he walked away, "DUST514 my friend."
The blogger dropped to his knees and shouted, "Tanks? Tanks!?!"
The assembled hosts nodded as this seemed like it might be fun.
( The original post this is based on can be found here. I highly recommend it.)