Well, we're here yet again, you mangy, flea-bitten, lice-ridden... er, you lucky people you! I get to bestow my infinite knowledge upon you unworthy inferiors. Just send me an e-mail and I'll tell you how to solve your annoying problems.
dear slagar the cruel,
my father died 11 seasons ago in an asylum for insane stupid persons, before he passed away, he gave me... A NUMBERED LIST OF QUESTIONS FOR YOU! it took me some time to find a computer in mossflower ofcourse, but i found one in the ruins of brockhall, weird i know. so here are the questions my father never asked you!
1. why does the moon look yellow or orangy sometimes?
2. WHAT DO WOMEN WANT?
3. what is THE ANSWER?
4. why do people constantly look for THE ANSWER (a.k.a. ultimate truth) if there is no question?
5. in question #71, i, issp, signed with love did you notice?
6. why did the dark forest officials choose such a weird way to torture you in your afterlife?
7. why is there a still-working computer in the ruins of brockhall? (thats a hint son)!
8. why am i in this asylum?
9. ONE LAST TIME! what the heck was that thing that passed by my window?
10. why am i asking you so many questions?
11. what's this brain tumor my doctor keeps saying i have?
12. will you come to my funeral?
thank you for your time slagar the cruel, my childhood hero!
by the way, is it true that my father made you my godfather when i was born?
~insane stupid swiftpaw person jr.
PS: apparently there are three giant adders stuck together with a mce and chain living in the ruins of brockhall, so i'm not gonna live long,
but don't worry, my son, his son, his grandson and all of my descendants will come to you eventually... WITH NUMBERED LISTS OF QUESTIONS!
Dear person weakly latching onto a really old "running joke" of this column in a feeble attempt to make their own lackluster submission more interesting,
...you realize that ISSP was a member of the fairer sex, right? I'm not going to delve too deeply into the biology of it, but that kind of contradicts your claims that she was your father. Because you have lied to me, and because I don't have all year to type full-length nasty replies to all of your trite, meaningless questions, I'll get your letter out of the way quickly:
1. Because it's getting ripe, of course.
3. D. All of the above.
4. Boredom. Incidentally, boredom is also responsible for the bulk of the questions I get for this column.
5. See #2.
6. Well, let's face it: it's effective. (It's also sometimes a mild literary allusion to the play "Huis Clos", but you didn't hear that from me.)
7. There isn't.
8. You probably aren't.
9. I'd tell you if you were actually ISSP but you aren't so I won't. HA, HA, HAAA~.
10. Because you are terrible.
11. I think your brain IS a tumor. It seems malignant enough to me.
12. No, but afterwards I'll dance merrily upon the plot of earth you're buried in.
Dear Slagar the Cruel,
I've got several woodlanders on my tail, so I'll write this letter to
you because I'll be meeting you in Dark Forest soon. I've just got a few
questions about afterlife there.
Are there any new movies out in one of the theaters there?
What about job openings?
How do the officials sort creatures into the cabins?
Are there any good places to eat?
Thank you for spending some time reading this letter. Oh, and if you
perhaps think there is some other information I need to know, would you
please send it?
P.S. You mentioned in question #193 that you like Shang Damsontongue. Is
she REALLY your girlfriend? Pardon me for asking. You don't have to
reply to THAT if you don't want to!
Wow, questions about the Dark Forest! Never saw THAT one coming. Seriously, people, don't you have anything to ask me about besides what it's like being dead? Because it's really not *that* great. It's really quite dull, if you ask me. Life is so much more... lively. Whatever, I'll answer your questions anyways. But it's under protest, I'll have you know.
We don't typically watch movies in the Dark Forest... mostly because no, there are not any new movies out. None that creatures branded as evil can watch, anyways. The only movie currently in circulation for dead vermin is this artistic sort of film of Martin the Warrior reciting cryptic poetry, punctuated by imagery of mangled rats. It is perhaps the creepiest thing ever designed by the paws of mice. It lasts, like, eight hours, too. This is probably why it's called "Haha Vermin Are Only Allowed to Watch This Movie, We're All Laughing At You, You Rotten Criminals". Regarding job openings: is it just me, or do I have to explain the whole "vermin get sentenced to either straight-up eternal torment or an ironically unbearable personality-oriented punishment" thing way too many times? You'd think it would have sunk in by now. So... no, no job openings.
As for how creatures get sorted into their cabins... well, you see, there's this magical hat. And when we die, we put this hat on our heads, and it just sits up there in thought for a while before loudly proclaiming which cabin we've been placed in. And then we prance around and pretend we're fairies and compete for cups or plates or something. Because clearly you feel this is how things work here, with your... cabins, and sorting, and... bah. Seriously though, we don't live in cabins. You're probably thinking of... loggers, or something. And if you're looking for good restaurants... Captain Snow's Barn & Grill has good mole-kabob.
Finally, about Shang... well, truth be told I've, er, never spoken to her. But my eyes have met hers from afar on many occasions, and I can asssure you that there is an unspoken passionate connection between us. My eyes have also met other parts of said vixen from afar, and all I can say is WHOAH. Uh, in a positive way, I mean.
Dear Lord Slagar,
Sorry to bother you once more, Sir Fox, but I have more questions to be answered:
If you were a badbeast, and were brought up by goodbeasts who loved and supported you, would you STILL keep your ďbadnessĒ or would you accept the goodbeast values and live a peaceful life?
Likewise, if you were a goodbeast, and were brought up by vermin who mistreated and beat you, would you STILL keep your ďgoodnessĒ or would you become a ruthless slayer?
Why donít foxes howl?
Can you teach me magic tricks?
If you had the choice between doing this advice column for eternity or living in the adder-pit, what would you choose?
Why do you and Sela have hardly any background?
How often do you wish you were alive again?
Why do you have a grudge against all Marlfoxes except for Ascrod?
What does vinegar do to voles? I know baking soda shrivels them, but I havenít tried vinegar.
What happens if you put a doorstop in Dark Forest gates?
Do you believe in Warp Drive?
How bad is your eternal punishment? Iíll trade: I have to serve at the cafeteria. *bleh*
Would you rather live with Asmodeus or have my job?
Do you like playing card games?
Thank you for answering my questions.
Because I am bored to tears by each of your 14 questions, I shall try to amuse myself by answering your questions in haiku form.
1. Well, how should I know?
2. Still too hypothetical.
3. What a lame question.
4. No, of course I can't.
5. The adder-pit's looking good.
6. ...? I just don't get it.
7. Quite often, really.
8. This will be in "Coast to Coast".
9. Makes their noses itch.
10. Nothing, I'd wager.
11. Of course I don't, foolish twit.
12. Pretty much the worst.
13. Your job, I suppose.
14. I'm not keen on brainwashing.
Questions answered! Die.
j0 d00d sup dis is Baby R to the O the L L Uh-OH! wut up, playa? How r j00? Hey, why don't j00 go back to the Long Patrol Forums 'cause I miss you
Oh, and why were you pwn3d by a snake cuz that was stupid.
Dear F to the O to the Oh-El,
Wow, finally someone from the earlier pages of the column makes a genuine reappearance. This impresses me so much that I have decided to include your letter despite its violation of two principal question submitting rules - A) they can't reference the person who's actually writing the column, forcing me to go too far out-of-character, and B) they can't be THAT stupid.
[EDITOR'S NOTE: And no, I'm not going to address his question in an "Editior's Note", either, because there's a time and a place for, wait, OH CRAP I'M DOING AN EDITOR'S NOTE AHHH MY EMPEROR I'VE FAILED YOOOU]
Yeah, so anyways, I was not "pwn3d" by a snake. Because that word is impossible to vocalize. Or write, without cringing in disgust. Hey, by the way, you should stop by more often... did I ever give you that pile of baking soda that would do you in if my knowledge of herbal remedies and poisons is correct birthday present I got for you? Because it's here for you. When you need it.
I've been invited to Princess Kurda and Plugg Firetail's wedding. Should I bother going? I have my doubts to as how long the nuptials will last, but my girlfriend says she just sees them together. So, should I go? Are you planning on attending?
Dear... Zuffa Watertail?!,
What the...? What kind of name is Zuffa Watertail? Did your parents really have it in for you that badly, or is this some kind of hilarious joke? Actually, you know what, I'm sorry, I can't answer this question until you have a better name to assign to it. GOOD DAY, ZUFFA.
"Zuffa Watertail"... really. In my day, you'd get your ears ripped off and your eyes gouged out, cavorting about with a name like "Zuffa Watertail". I've a mind to give you a good trouncing myself. I'd whip your renowned "Watertail" right off your backside with my bola if I got the chance, you poorly-named silly gad-about.
I yltnecer emac rednu a elbirroh esruc, tsac no em yb na dlo yspyg xof. ehS dias ehs dluow esruc em fi ym tsaebdoog edroh t'ndid evael em enola, tub erofeb I dlouc od gnihtyna, deahknulF, a gnuoy elovknab ni ym edroh, dekcams reh ni eht daeh htiw a hsif. woN ew era reverof desruc ot klat sdrawkcab. tahW dluohs ew od??? pleH! esaelP!
~nubaZ eht roirraW~
Dear... nubaZ eht rriorraW?
I believe you've overlooked something in the process of drafting this monumental epistle, nubaZ... that all letters submitted to this column are to be written in ENGLISH. What language *is* that, anyways? My first impulse was to assume that you had simply "reversed" your letter, for a cheap, cold, empty laugh. The sort of bitter, hopeless laugh I've heard echo within my own mask as I insult dozens upon dozens of "fans", yet deriving no amusement, and only dwelling on my eternal plight... and yes, I did mean to say that I've heard that laugh echo in my mask. My facewear has really good acoustics. Anyways, about your request... why do you wish me to reaD ragalS? How would I obtain ragals in the first place? What manner of plant, mineral, or beast is a ragal anyways? Aren't those the little puppet sort of things that live under a rock...? I don't know. You probably can't stand any of this response in the first place, seeing as how you are clearly not capable of enunciating thoughts in English. At least you're better at it than *most* of the people who write into this column.
I am not Zuffa Watertail. My local abbot is mad with power. He likes do stuff. No one can stop him. He does stuff and does stuff and we can't do anything about it. Do you have any plain spoken advice that can help me and my colleagues at the big non-specific stoned abbey stop this tyrannical dictator? He just did some stuff yesterday you wouldn't believe. I am not Zuffa Watertail.
P.S. If you received an invitation to the wedding of Princess Kurda and Plugg Firetail, would you go? I am not Zuffa Watertail.
Sure, I'll answer your questions, since you aren't Zuffa Watertail, after all. You need help overthrowing an Abbot, correct? The simplest and most common solution for such a dilemma is to burn the Abbot in question at the stake. Save the ashes for later, you'll need them. Now, the next thing you're going to want to do is capture all of the children in this... Abbey... of yours, and sell them at a flea market or something. Use the money to purchase mountaineering equipment, and ascend to the peak of the tallest mountain. There you will find the Grandfather of All Knowledge. Throw the Abbot's ashes into this guy's face. Then fling yourself off the mountain, you blithering blockhead. Wow, what am I even talking about? Sorry, I just slipped into a kind of stream-of-consciousness thing for a second. I guess this sort of thing is bound to happen after one comes up with 246 mildly amusing ways to tell people they are inferior and still has to maintain an air of originality.
Now, about Princess Kurda and Plugg Firetail's marriage... so would their offspring be pink, or what? Wait, they're anatomically incompatible to begin with. So, uh... you are stupid! Do not speak to me again, fool! Oh yeah, I've still got it. Here's to another 250 or so instances of SHEER BRILLIANCE.
Dear Fox Dude,
I'm gonna keep this short and sweet
1. Have you ever had a girlfriend?
2. HOW DO I GET CLUNY THE SCOURGE TO LOVE ME? (crys)
3. WHY DOES CLUNY THINK I'M HAVING AN AFFAIR WITH VICTH?
(drys eyes) From Vipertooth the Slayer.......
PS..VIPERTOOTH LOVES CLUNY 4EVER!
I'm gonna imagine your skull being ripped out of your head completely, leaving only an empty sack of hair and skin swaying in the breeze.
1. I've had many. How many? Lots. Yeah. I'm not divulging any details here, so take my word for it, okay?
2. Sorry, but I make a habit of not answering any inquiry that ends with "crys", in parentheses, which isn't even a word, you fool.
3. Angry reaction to your misspelling of Vitch's name in three... two... one... oh, wait, it's just Vitch, and nobody cares about him. Bwahahaha!
Dear Slagar the Cruel,
During your brief time as a slave driver, did you ever consider slave mastering? What's the difference in your mind? Do you think you'd prefer driving or mastering? And come to think of it, what is mastering anyway? If one drives, isn't one mastering as well? But if one masters, does one also drive? If a tree falls in a forest, am I around to hear it? Finally, what is the meaning of life? How about death?
Ah, yes, the wonderful realm of discussion that is slave mastering. Hey, by the way, have you noticed that I barely ever actually answer any of the questions that get sent to me anymore? I mean, I'll make some angry statement about wanting to kill you all and point out every error in the letters I get, but for some reason I've been having trouble actually staying on-topic with my replies lately. I don't know why, I guess it's just me getting bored of all your samey questions and ugly mugs. Because, you know, your mugs? Ugliest of the year. If your mugs were actual *mugs*, they would all bear messages like "#1 Ugly Mom of the Year", instead of normal stupid feelgood messages. I hate mugs. I hate you all. Hope this advice helps you out, Riggu!
Dear Slagar the Cruel,
I know how much you hate numbered lists, so I have decided to send you a bulleted list instead.
Why do some vermin have trouble understanding a Highland accent, but no good creatures do?
Why do some vermin talk fancier than normal creatures, but some do not (like you)?
Why did you enslave Auma? Theoretically, she would have grown up into a powerful badger.
What is the best way to make slaves fear you and do whatever you want (without killing/maiming them)?
Yomi of the North Coast
Having fun up there on the North Coast, Yomi? Because I think the North Coast is... drum roll please... NOT ALL IT'S CRACKED UP TO BE. Ha, ha, ha! Listen to how often I crack wise at the expense of others. I am such a villain! Does this before-answer banter not entertain you to your very core?
A Highland accent? If by "high", you mean "north", and by "land", you mean "coast", it's because everyone on the North Coast is JUST OKAY. Ha, ha, ha! I've cracked wise a second time! But seriously, I'm pretty sure the Highland culture didn't even exist in Mossflower during my time, and I haven't taken any time to investigate it, so, no answer from me on this one.
What?! I talk fancier than normal creatures! I talk WAY fancier. I am the fanciest talker of all vermin. You are not only foolish, you are insensate! Ha, eat thesaurus, you northern coast-living worm!
Do you have any idea how long badgers take to age? I figured that by the time she grew into her full strength and went into revenge-mode, I'd probably be dead. Unless I had achieved immortality by then. And if I had, well, why would I still be worrying about badgers?
Without killing/maiming them? At all? Wow, you really know how to suck the fun out of answering a question. Did they teach you how to do that on the North Coast? I bet they have entire schools devoted to it. Perhaps one could send these hypothetical slaves up to the North Coast, and they can be used as subjects in your "Fun Suction 101" courses. I honestly can't think of anything scarier than being sent to the North Coast, myself.
How would you feel about getting a battleaxe in your chest? If it sounds appealing, I would gladly hook you up with a nice cleaver to the sternum. And if it doesn't sound appealing, I'll hook you up anyway.
P.S. Ascrod sends his indifference.
How's being one of the least distinctive villains in Mossflower's history working out for you? Ah, but this column is "Ask Slagar", not "Ask Mokkan", after all, so I suppose I should stop asking you questions. Until people care enough about you to force YOU to write an advice column. Which, obviously, will be never. I don't think I'd like a battleaxe in my chest, no; though a few other places you should stick it come to mind.
Wait, Ascrod sent his indifference? To me? But... but I thought we were pals! He's one of the few creatures I've ever met who is evil enough to be tolerable, and yet enough of a pushover to admit that I'm the greatest at everything. Maybe you're talking about Gelltor, whom I suppose is indifferent to EVERYthing, since his mind is incapable of higher thought processes such as discernment.
Your harlequin mask offends my taste in color schemes, and your complete disregard for holes in the ground just plain irritates me. I will cement my name in history by slaying you. Would you prefer to be boiled in acid or thrown off the Eiffel Tower?
Hope you choke,
P.s. The mark of my deity will scar thy DNA.
So it's a fight you're after, hmm, insufferable warrior? Very well then, I accept your challenge. Just name the time and the place, fool, and I will... not show up. Because I already died. A while ago. But it's the thought that counts, right? So, I hate you regardless, you brainless toad.
Hold up a second, the mark of your deity will scar my DNA? Again, I appreciate the sentiment, but what in Mossflower is a deity and what is DNA?
Dear Slagar, the Great Sly One or something or another.
I always see you wearing a cloak. I have a few questions about your elaborate fashion sense, and was thinking about getting a cloak msyelf. However, not being sure, I decided "Why not ask the brilliant Slagar instead?"
So Slagar, do you ever get hot in that cloak? It does seem pretty big...
Actually, what's the weather like in the Dark Forest?
How much did your wonderful cloak cost?
What's the currency in the Dark Forest?
Thank you for your time and consideration.
Well, the cloak didn't cost anything, because I stole it from this traveling circus doomship. Yeah, uh, there was this great ship of doom, the mightiest juggernaught of a vessel ever to sail the seas of Mossflower, that once crossed paths with me. I, being chockfull of wisdom and guile, tricked the ship's crew into lighting itself on fire. And the boat on fire, too. After the ship and the ship's crew was gone, all that remained was this ratwildcatwolf Leviathan sea monster, who I proceeded to slay with a handful of plankton and a whole lot of moxy. Upon inspecting the captain's corpse, I noticed that he wore the most wondrous cloak ever sewn by knitting old grandmothersall the creatures of the universeLeviathan sea monsters the gods of knitting. I pilfered it, and here we are. Okay, yeah, I stole it from a circus, and some old mouse knitted it or something. But it still gives me that extra evil flair, I think. And yes, actually, it gets very, very warm under this thing. It's a fair price for looking this good.
Why do you always say "kachunk", anyways? There is no way that the object which smashed into your head, stripping you of your sanity, actually made the noise "kachunk" upon colliding with your empty head. It is simply not a naturally ocurring sound. You are so delusional that you can't even keep your delusions straight. See, this is why I don't pay you. Well, that and because you can't exactly complain to anyone that you haven't been recieving your salary, can you?
My name is Sultan_of_Dorkistan. I have countless problems. First of all, I always seem to be online. Why am I always online? Second of all, I suck. I'm terrible. I'm horrible at everything. I get beat by Leafman, Game, Brey, even, like, SunCrusher and I even LOST TO BLADE! How could I lose to someone so awful? I'm so terrible I'm even an awful chief executive of Dorkistan! I don't even know HOW I obtained the Sultany! Why am I so bad? Thirdly, I used to rely on this really cool guy named The Big Butt. He cheated but that's okay because he almost beat Game once. He played Leafman a bunch but no one can beat Leafman, even if they cheat because he's so good. I once tried to exchange witty banter with Leafman but failed. Why am I so bad that even people who can't win by cheating ditch me?
Lastly, I sometimes refer to myself as UndeadGameMaster. Why did I come up with such an awful alias? How can one person pack this much awful into his life?
Help me because I suck,
Well, the first step towards rectifying your stupidity is admitting that you have a problem. The second step is to NEVER PLAY INTERNET GAMES AGAIN, EVER, FOR THE REST OF ETERNITY. EVER. Don't you have some obligations to Dorkistan you need to fulfill, anyways? Nice name, by the way. Very appropriate for a nation led by such an irredemably horrible person. Sounds a bit like the North Coast to me, actually.
To Slagar the Cruel:
After reading your response to my bulleted list, I think it is inevitable for me to send you another bulleted list to clear up a few points.
I have pity for you, seeing as you know nothing of the Highland culture. Maybe you should find Wild Doogy Plumm in Dark Forest and educate yourself about the Highland culture.
I am sorry to offended you in saying that you do not talk fancy. You do talk fancy, just not over-the-top fancy, using words like thee, thou, and art. And for your information I did not eat thesaurus, I simply used my lexicon.
you said that the North Coast was not all it is cracked up to be, when, in fact, the North Coast is a violent, war-like place. What does this say about your reputation that you would hate to be sent to the most war-like place?
I do not suck the fun out of questions. I simply thought if an alive slave had all its body parts intact, the slave might be more useful.
Now I shall ply you with some more questions. I have thoughtfully put together this lettered list:
A. Why do moles never end up as slaves?
B. What is the best way to get a slave to do what you want - it is okay to kill/maim the slave this time.
C. What is your opinion on hamsters?
D. how did you find out about Malkariss/Stonefleck?
E. Who do you like better, Malkariss, Nadaz, or Stonefleck?
I shall now cease plying you with questions.
Yomi of the Violent North Coast
Oh, I get it. You omit numbers from your generic lists of questions in order to fool me into thinking you have sent anything less than a ridiculous amount. Serioulsy, nine questions? NINE?! I'm a busy fox, you know. I have lives to ruin, talkshows to run, other letters to answer... well, I guess that pretty much sums up my intinerary. What I'm trying to get at here, Yomi, is that you really do suck the fun out of EVERYTHING. Now I suppose I'll answer all of your questions. With NUMBERS added.
1. Doogy Plum...? Is that the name of a strange dessert, or a teenage progidy doctor? Either way, I'm not in the mood. Too much of North Coast residents will do that to you, I guess.
2. Wait a second, these aren't questions at all, are they? Oh yes, you said these would "clear up a few points". I hope they'll clear up the point of your existence, because the purpose behind that escapes me completely.
3. If by violent and war-like you mean... uh... full of furniture stores. Okay, honestly, I don't know which North Coast you even come from. Many, if not all, land masses have coasts, you see. Some of these happen to be North. But anyways, if you're any indication, then everything I've said about the North Coast is true.
4. Denying your fun-suction capabilities while denouncing the dismemberment of servants in the same breath? Oh, the irony!
5. Why would anyone want to enslave a *mole*? Unless they're building a tunnel. Or studying terrible dialects.
6. I don't like them. But to be fair I don't like a great many things.
8. I'm going to skip on this question just to remind you that the NORTH COAST IS NOT ALL THAT IT'S CRACKED UP TO BE. Okay? Thank you.
Why donít any creatures aside from abbeybeasts wear shoes? I have all these pairs of lovely boots Iíve made for all the other Marlfoxes, but they wonít even try them on! Mokkan says itís not in our dresscode, but I DID make them in cameo! Why wonít Mokkan wear them? It took me three weeks to kill enough rats to get the leather for them!
Please tell me why Mokkan doesnít appreciate my work,
~Predak the Marlfox
Mokkan doesn't appreciate your work because he's an idiot. And because your work is terrible because it was done by an idiot. You're all idiots. Stop e-mailing me, you Marlish idiots. Wait, what's all this about vermin not wearing footwear? Have you ever heard of Cap'n Tramun CLOGG? Or Major Porkins PENNYLOAFER? Or Baroness Helysia HIGHHEEL? I assure you they are all very real, and that their footpaws are adorned with a great deal of material. You idiot. Ah, repetition is soothing.
As most of my acquaintances know, I am a hopeless romantic. As fate would have it, I have fallen deeply and utterly in love with a Beautiful young squirrelmaiden. Not being the slick and smooth and perfect type, I am completely lost for Ideas on how to attract her. Knowing that a handsome dashing and romantic type like yourself could help me, I have come pleading for but a sliver of your infinite knowledge. Please inform.
Well, truth be told I don't know a lot about woodlander courtship rituals. Normally I'd suggest something basic, like perfecting your bone-chilling laugh, but I'm not sure that's going to cut it here. Let me just go through this step-by-step, and I'll see if I can work something out for you. The first thing you need to do is get her attention while she's alone. If she's talking to some friends of hers or something, just remorselessly murder them all and then - ooh, wait, we've hit a snag already. Okay, no problem, maybe you could just... wait until her friends leave. Yeah. Okay, so then you should go up to her, drenched in the blood of your enemies... well, I guess you can use... maple syrup as a substitute here... and begin relating to her your most diabolical feats. I guess they could be your most... squirrel-like feats, in your case. Once the dame in question has been sufficiently wowed, all that's left to do in order to seal the deal is to kill her father, usurp his place as Grand Cheiftan of Evil, and rule with an iron paw with her by your side for generations to come. So what you would do is kill the... Abbot, or something. I guess. Hopefully that will help you somehow. Good luck with the cout d'etat, Lovestruck.
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Wow, e-mail service for under $100? I'd be a fool *not* to take advantage of that bargain! Well, truth be told I'm not sure exactly what the $ is worth, but still, I'm honored that you thought of me while hand-picking who to inform of this extremely important offer. I'm not sure I need more bulk for my e-mail, though, as I seem to recieve enough as it is. Do you perchance have some means of deterring people from sending e-mails entirely? I would be willing to pay as many as 134 $'s for the knowledge of such technique. Oh, and thanks for the toll-free number. Awfully generous of you to award me with such a large number free of charge. Oh yeah, lest I forget, who are you and what are you talking about? This better not be... what do they call it... "spam". Because canned meats grind my gears in ways they ought not to be grinded.
Hey, Happy Thanksgiving, Mr. Fox. Where I come from, this is the time of year when we give thanks for all the various bounties and stuffs we've got. We do this by eating birds and venerating cornucopias. With that said I want to know if you and your talking animal friends have a holiday like this and what you plan to do to celebrate it, and what you're thankful for.
Happy Thanksgiving again,
Dear Pimpley Wimbleton,
Thanksgiving...? Bah! I've never heard of such nonsense. Unless you count all of the other absurd letters I've recieved while running this column, but that's besides the point. Giving thanks regularly sounds like the sort of thing they surely do at Redwall, but as for sensible creatures such as myself? NO THANKS. There's a double meaning there, by the way; don't strain your tiny brains too hard trying to find it.
On the other hand, the prospect of devouring birds and paying respect to the mighty cornucopia does strike me as appealing. Perhaps I'll found my own holiday in its likeness. We could call it "Thankslagar", and the entire festival would center around showing me the respect I deserve and acknowledging how unfairly they have treated me over the previous year. As for me, I would take the opportunity to make it known what I am NOT thankful for. Needless to say, the list would take at least the entire day to get through, but afterwards there would be a joyous feast in which I am presented with birds to eat. And nobody else. Yeah, I'm really liking the sound of this. I bet this will be even more successful than Cruelsmas. You know, Cruelsmas? The annual celebration of my cruelty, in which everyone throws a dagger over their shoulder in commemoration of my hatred for pretty much everyone? Yeah. I can't believe they're already playing Cruelsmas carols on the radio, can you?
So remember, folks: send me an e-mail. If you have something to ask, I mean. And kindly strangle yourselves afterwards.
Redwall, Slagar, and all related properties (C) Brian Jacques and the Redwall Abbey Company. All rights reserved.