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| Consequences... | |
| Posted By: Dagoonite <dagoonite@gmail.com> | Date: 5/6/11 8:29 a.m. |
In Response To: Confessions of a gamer without skillz (Dagoonite) So, I fully expected this to be the end of my tale of iron fortitude, the likes of which must obviously make even Cthulhu sit up and take notice. (Mostly laughing at me, but hey, I take questionably positive notice from an Elder God when I can no matter the cause.) As I returned from work, however, I learned that there were unforeseen consequences in this great endeavor. Normally, one of my roomies is awake when I return home from work. He, still nursing his first cup of coffee and I with my hefty day's work below my belt. We have developed a highly advanced communication system for these mornings. I grunt, and he grunts in return. Occasionally, we like to mix this honored routine up a little; he will grunt, and I'll grunt in return as I shuffle off to the loving embrace of my bed. This is honestly the typical extent of his verbose communication skills for the entire day. Today, however, something strange happened. "Oh crap," he cried out. "Chieftan!" I, obviously too terrified by my previous encounters to think clearly and totally not because I was tired, blinked at him and grunted. He decided to expand on his statement. "RUN AWAY!" At this point, realization dawned on me, and I quoted the previous day's oft-yelled chant. "Headshots should kill! Die Monkey Man, die! Please die!" "Where'd all your guns go?!" "CRAP CRAP CRAPEDY CRAP! PLASMA LAUNCHER!" "THEY JUST KEEP THROWING!" "RUN AWAY!" "WHY MUST HE TENDERIZE YOU BEFORE EATING YOU?!" "WHY IS NOTHING DYING?!" It's at this point, the both of us standing in the living room and yelling hysterically at each other for not apparent good reason, that the other roomie wanders out of the bedroom. She looks at us both for a long moment, as we realize just how loud we were. As we both turn sheepish under her gaze, she addresses us in the way that only she can. "You should be running around the house flailing your arms as you do that." With these bleary yet sage words of wisdom dispensed, she wanders back into her room and closes the door behind her. To which the two males of the household turn to each other. I stare at my roomie. He stares at me. I grunt. He grunts. I go to my room. And type this up so that I might wind down enough to sleep. Truly, I live in a sane and perfectly balanced world.
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