| Orcish warlock defeats nemesis |
[16 Jan 2006|07:59pm] |
DESOLACE, KALIMDOR - Garr'thog the Evocator, a powerful orc warlock who imposes his will upon demonic minions for the glory of the Horde, has been discriminated and condemned by his allies for consorting with the darkest of magics.
"Years ago, before the opening of the Dark Portal and the razing of the pink-skins' land of Azeroth, the orcs were overcome with a horrible blood lust brought upon them by consorting with demons," Garr'thog explains. "Kil'jaeden manipulated our clan leaders' desire for power, and by drinking the blood of Mannoroth the orcs were subjugated by the demon's powers. Though I tap into the magics of the Twisting Nether and enslave members of the Burning Legion, I am no puppet of theirs!"
Not every orc followed Garr'thog's desire to be freed from the clawed grip of the demons, however, and many other orc warlocks give a reason for this supposed stereotyping. Jugkar Grim'rod, an old friend of Garr'thog's, took the quick and easy route to power and offered his services to the doom guard Lord Azrethoc. He stopped enslaving the demons, and became their thrall in turn.
"Jugkar learned his trade as I did," Garr'thog grumbled, ham-sized hand brushing up against one of his brittle tusks, "I remember joining forces with him to end the threat of the scorpid Sarkoth. He and I were present for the summoning of each others' first demon--a puny imp."
Their paths seperated shortly thereafter, and Garr'thog found himself in the barren lands of Desolace, where the remnants of the Third Great War still ravaged the southern areas. Demons still roamed these areas, and as a student of the demonic arts, the orcish warlock considered it well worth his time to visit this Mannoroc Coven. On the body of a succubus he slayed, Garr'thog noticed a note written with blood on a patch of leathered skin. The archaic runes, once translated, spoke of the unholy alliance between Lord Azrethoc and Grim'rod.
Determined to kill any who would flirt with the very forces that nearly tore his entire race asunder, Garr'thog tracked Grim'rod down and, in a dramatic moment, fought his old friend and killed him. Shortly thereafter, an enraged Lord Azrethoc, infuriated at the loss of his vassal, attacked Garr'thog. What this battle lacked in drama it made up for in difficulty; few of the fights in the orcish warlock's life ever came as close to such an epic encounter.
Afterwards, Garr'thog is reported to have levelled up.
"As soon as I killed Lord Azrethoc, I suddenly felt stronger," Garr'thog said. "It was like my intellect and stamina increased by 2, and my spirit and agility increased by 1. Suddenly, I knew, that now was the time to learn a more powerful version of my Shadowbolt and Immolate spells!"
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| Meeting with landlord very anticlimatic |
[22 Nov 2005|02:18pm] |
CHESTERTOWN, MD - The Alley Cat, located at 337 Cannon Street, has been in a sad state of disarray since resident Bob Jones first visited it. Holes in the wall, poor ventilation and a constant odor of puke and beer gives the Alley Cat a distinguished "ghetto" feel. In spring of 2004, the doors were kicked down by members of SWAT during a failed drug raid, and have yet to be fixed.
Despite the horrible stench prevalent in the run-down apartment, Jones was one of three new members of the fraternity Phi Sigma to agree to sign their names on the lease and live there for a year, thus ensuring the apartment is being owned by a member of the fraternity. While he does not mind the missing bits of ceiling or the cracks in the linoleum floor, Jones is not quite comfortable with the broken doors.
"My front door gets opened by a strong gust of wind," Jones reported. "I mean, it's bad enough that the porch is about ready to collapse under the weight of maybe two or three people every day, but when it's windy outside, my door slams open and shut."
"That's not an exaggeration, either," adds Jones.
Of the three roommates, Jones is the only one who lives there consistently. One roommate, Christopher Hastings, spends weeks at a time with his girlfriend because he "can't stand living in a shit-hole like that." The other roommate, Matthew Bray, spends all of his time in the adjacent apartment upstairs and occasionally ventures down to the Alley Cat to sleep. Of the three, only Jones' room door does not shut or lock properly.
"How gay is that?" Jones asked. "Not only am I the only one who actually lives there, but I'm also the only one who is never late paying rent! Matt owes like a million fucking dollars!"
When interviewed, Bray insisted he owed far less than a million dollars. While he asked for the precise amount to not be printed, he asserted that it was less than two thousand dollars.
The three roommates have several times visited their landlord, a mysterious woman known only as 'Norma', and asked her to fix their "goddamn doors." While she's yet to deny them this favor, she has also yet to send down a repairman to do the deed. Each time Jones or Hastings or Bray or any combination of the three went down to request the doors be fixed, Norma would simply tell them that the repairman would be down shortly.
Finally, fed up with another strong gust of wind, Jones heads down to Norma's with a plan.
"I was going to tell her that my laptop was stolen," Jones said, incapable of hiding a proud smirk. "I was gonna get all angry and everything. I had my lease in hand, too, in case she wanted to pull some legal shit, you know? It doesn't matter if any of us owes her money; she should fix it anyway. Besides, it was broken before we moved in. I figure, the fake burglary should make her fear a lawsuit or something, so she'll have to get her ass in gear!"
Having done his research, and ready to "flip out" on cue, Jones visited Norma by himself to discuss the state of his door. He walked in, told Norma who he was, and said "I would like my doors fixed, please. For real, this time." Norma apologized for the delay and assured him the repairman would be there tomorrow at seven-thirty in the morning to repair his doors.
"What the fuck was I supposed to say to that?" Jones asked. "I just thanked her and went home."
"Man... that was kind of disapointing," he concluded.
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| Washington College student experiences cliche hangover |
[07 Nov 2005|03:47pm] |
CHESTERTOWN, MD -- Early Sunday morning, slightly past nine o' clock, Sophomore Bob Jones wakes up on a couch with a splitting headache.
"I really have no idea where I was at first," Jones admitted. "I had to look around for a minute before I realized I was asleep on my friend Parker's couch. Two of my other friends were asleep on the other couches."
"How the hell did I get there?" Jones added.
Feeling somewhat ill, Jones then decided to go home and get a little rest. Having no car present in which to drive, he had to walk several blocks to his residence; the off-campus frat house known as the Alley Cat. It was there he realized his laptop was missing. He then proceeded to head upstairs to question his friend Michael Faeder in the hopes that his laptop had been merely borrowed, not stolen.
"I always borrow Bob's laptop," Faeder said, "he doesn't really care. But I think I left it in my car last night. And, uh, I don't know where my car is."
Deciding to hunt down the car and laptop, Jones and Faeder first went to the school dining hall to "get some grub." It was there that they came across two Alpha Chi sorority girls, who giggled at the sight of them.
"They told me that I still had some lipstick on," Jones said. "And my eyeliner made me look very pretty. Seriously, what do you say to that?"
Instead of responding, Jones is reported to have simply continued eating his omelette.
After halting their breakfast halfway through--both of them complained that the greasy food was "killing [their] stomach"--the two students proceeded to Parker's house again to begin their search.
Upon arrival, Faeder asked, "Dude, where's my car?" The duo was then informed that the automobile in question may be located at another friend's house, named Jon Blum.
Parker, having mocked the two for their bright red lipstick, was unable to drive them to their destination. He did, however, tell Jones that he had danced on the bar in a dress to chants of his name. Later on in the night, Faeder is reported to have joined him.
"Oh shit," Jones said, scratching the back of his head and avoiding eye contact. "Shit, yeah... I kinda remember that..."
Unwilling and unable to walk to Blum's house, the search took them back to campus, in the hopes or procuring a ride to their destination. After a half hour of questioning and requesting transportation--and ignoring questions pertaining to their makeup--the two finally came across Diana Ash.
"I offered to drive them, but only because they were so nice to me last night," she reported with a giggle. She then grabbed her left breast and gestured to Jones with a wink.
Jones then groaned and slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand.
Ash drove the two to Blum's house; however, nobody was present. Two quick phonecalls told both of them that Blum was indeed in the possession of Faeder's car, and was merely out to buy some cigarettes. When asked by Faeder to purchase him a pack, Blum said, "Dude, all the shit I gave you last night, you should be buying me a pack right now. Or a carton."
Waiting outside Blum's house shortly rewarded both students with the return of Faeder's car--and thus, Jones' laptop. Jones was thrilled to finally have his laptop back so that he could "finally wash this shit off [his] face."
"Yeah," Faeder said, laughing and slapping Jones (who was conspiciously void of laughter) on the back, "at least we didn't do anything stupid last night, right?"
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| Boy owns book, doesn't read it |
[27 Oct 2005|01:26am] |
CHESTERTOWN, MD - Sun Tzu's The Art of War has been revered for centuries as the quintessential book on leadership. Written by a wise Chinese general, it details the importance of organization, knowledge, and the logical mind required to lead. Even though it was authored to give military leaders advice in winning every encounter, it is often read by business managers today; the same attribute makes a good general are exactly what the best manager should hope to acquire.
It is a very difficult read.
Bob Jones, a student of Washington College and a political science major, owns a copy of The Art of War, and even gives it a special spot on his bedside table seperate from his stocked bookshelf. He has yet to read it.
"I don't know," Jones said. "I read it when I was in middle school, but I really didn't understand it as well as I should have. I didn't really get anything from it. I still have that same copy, actually. I've always wanted to reread it, I think it'll help my classes and my understanding of the workings of the higher-ups, but... I don't know. It's a pain in the ass to read."
Many things can get lost in translation; this is doubly true for a language as different from English as Chinese. This fact, coupled with The Art of War's use of complex, meaningful phrases and big words such as "engender," elevants The Art of War to a level that only the world's finest--that is, those who can read past an eigth grade level--can understand.
"There's all this stupid shit in the beginning, too, like the introduction," Jones continues. "It just goes on and on, talking about... I don't know, the translation process? I just kind of skimmed that. Then it tells me how many leather-bound chariots I need to wage war. What the fuck does a manager need to know anything about chariots for, anyway?"
"Not much," Jones added pointedly, answering his own rhetorical question snidely. "Not fucking much at all."
Though he hasn't yet read it, Jones asserts that just keeping it around has already helped him immensely.
"It makes me look smart," he stated as he placed it on top of his week's-old copy of "News Week" and an even older "Playboy" magazine. "People walk in and they see The Art of War on my desk and ask what class it's for. I just say 'Nah, man, I'm just reading it because I want to' and they're all like 'Whoa! That book's required reading for like 400 level business courses.' And if they ask my opinion on it, I can just say that it's interesting and gives me a lot to think about it. Then I get all introspective-looking."
Jones is reported to have thought for a few moments before concluding with, "I really should get around to reading it, though. Sometime."
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| Video game beaten, ending sucked |
[25 Oct 2005|02:04pm] |
CHESTERTOWN, MD - Resident college student and avid gamer Bob Jones has finally, against all odds, beaten the classic video game "Super Mario Bros. 2" in what many are calling the victory of a lifetime.
"A while ago, my now ex-girlfriend Melissa Whitten came down to visit me," Jones explained, "and we played a bunch of Mario games. We would usually switch off for every level. We beat Mario 3, no problem. Mario 2 was actually even easier, except for the final boss. Wart. That motherfucker wittled away twelves lives, and we still couldn't beat him."
Undaunted, the coupled tried again, but failed. Jones is reported to have wanted to try again, but Whitten, claiming that "this was stupid; let's just have sex or something" put an end to their gaming session. Mario 2 was put on the backburner, perhaps indefinitely.
Years later, sitting alone and bored in his room, Jones fired up his Super Nintendo and gives it another whirl. "I figure, why the hell not?" said Jones. "Nothing better to do. Maybe this time I'd do better."
And play better he did. Their progress saved up to the seventh and final level, Jones did not have to suffer the entire game and therefore reached the final boss much quicker. According to Jones, it only took him two tries to beat Wart. He states, "All I really had to do was study his patterns. The fight itself was actually pretty slow and boring to watch, but hey, I beat him, right?"
The ending was, in Jones' opinion, sub-par.
"I wasn't expecting much," he asserts. "Most old-school video games had pretty shitty endings. It's not like they can deliver me a half hour of FMV footage or anything. All I wanted was a nice cinema scene, maybe with some dialogue or something. Those weird little fairy things could say 'Thanks!' and we'd all fly around happy. Something like the end of Super Mario World would have been awesome."
Instead, Mario 2 ended with a footage of Mario and his friends waving to the camera for the duration of the credits. Afterwards, it showed Mario asleep, dreaming what was being shown; the entire game had been a dream.
"A fucking dream!" exclaimed Jones, flinging his controller at the wall. "How cliché is that? What's the point in ending with a dream, anyway? It's not like any major characters died or anything. Jesus, the ending was just a slap in the face that told me the whole epic adventure of Mario and his buddies never fucking happened!"
Jones went on a string of intelligible cursing for several minutes afterwards before grabbing a handle of Southern Comfort and chugging it until he passed out in his chair.
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| Frat boys throw down, host kickass party |
[25 Oct 2005|01:48pm] |
CHESTERTOWN, MD - A formal college fraternity party, hosted by the brothers of Phi Sigma and attended by many of the finest members of Washington College's elite, was a smashing success that was reported to have "totally fucking rocked."
"Man, I got so fucking wasted," said Matt Bray, a brother of the fraternity. "I'm not even joking. I came in at like 10:30 or 11, you know? Then I just fucking pounded some Irish carbombs. Like nine in a row. I don't even know what I did last night, man. It was awesome."
"Really kickass," Bray added.
The party, an annual event called Black and Tan was held Saturday night at the off-campus apartment called the Alley Cat that Phi Sigma uses as a frat-house. It was reportedly a joint effort between Phi Sigma and the Alpha Omicron Pi sorority; the men were in charge of cleaning, preparing, and financing the party, while the women's responsibility was to tape several "AOPi" posters to the walls of the frat-house.
Due to the vast difference in size between the two organizations, the male population was dwarved by the women present. Despite being outnumbered almost three to one, the men did not seem at all awkward or uncomfortable. Many of the men were, in fact, socializing with the girls. This phenomenon has been coined by various party-goers as "getting laid."
Also unusual to Black and Tan was the lack of fighting, belligerence, or social misconduct.
"It's like, there were all these great vibes, man," reported Harry Wright, who was present at the party. "Like, everybody was just getting along, you know? It was very relaxed, very nice. Nobody ever like, you know, gave the cold shoulder or anthing. It was just so chill, man."
There are also reports that alcohol may not have been the only mind-altering substance present at the Alley Cat this Saturday.
Black and Tan was not completely without mishap, however. At around one o' clock in the morning, fraternity member and resident of the Alley Cat Bob Jones was issued a noise violation citation by the Kent County police.
"I was sitting in my room with about a half dozen kids," explained Jones, "We were smoking a piece of very legal tobacco." [Editor's note: this fact is under dispute] " Just then one of my brothers came in and told me that I had to go talk to someone. I step outside, stumbling down the stairs drunk as shit, with a beer in my hand, to talk to this cop. Motherfucker told me the music was too loud!"
Bray had also been present for the arrival of the police. "Yeah, I remember that shit," Bray stated with a laugh. "Dude, I think Bob was about to cry. I swear he pissed himself."
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