This past weekend was just bursting with things happening in guild. I’ll be getting around to writing about it very soon (probably tomorrow, actually), but I want to take a moment to focus on some levity today. Monday doesn’t need to be made worse than it is.

Before I get started, let me slap a warning label on this post and note that there is srs bzns profanity contained herein and sensitive readers may faint. Read at your own risk.

The scene: ICC, wiping on the sparkle party for reasons of great dumbness

“Guys,” I said over vent. “We should not be wiping on this fight. What is going on here?”

A few people spoke up and I admonished them to watch their range and leave the purple balls alone and give the tanks time to get aggro.

Naturally, Zel started mocking me. “Alas is as forceful as a wet tissue,” she said. “She is the politest raid leader ever.”

Now, I can yell and swear with the best of them, but I typically have to actually be pretty angry. But I thought I would give it a try, because everyone else in the raid was joining in on the mocking, saying things like, “Gee, guys. Do you think you could watch your darn feet?” And, “I’m so gosh darned peeved at you!” And, “This is like listening to Ned Flanders get angry. Diddly diddly guys!”

I didn’t even get that one. It had to be explained to me. Twice. Whatever.

We kept going and the gentle mocking continued, getting worse when I attempted to prove I could indeed be fierce and forceful. That went something like, “Listen up bitches! Uh, could we like, do better or something here? Maybe?”

My attempts were only losing me points. My guildies were clearly unimpressed with my ability to rant properly. “Are you going to give us a 50 DKP minus?” someone asked.

“No! I will give you a 500 DKP minus!” I rejoined. “Because I am evil.”

Quiet snickers met that pronouncement.

“I can’t help it!” I protested. “I was raised in Utah! I’m more familiar with Mormon swear words than anything else!”

We eventually made our way over to Sindy where we had some nonsense happen with ice tombs. It was clearly a good time for another pep talk from Alas.

Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to present, Man Not Caring.

“Listen up you pansies!” I tried to channel my inner Doctor Cox. “We need to start paying better attention and….”

The rest of whatever I had to say was lost as Zel asked, “omg, was that a floral slur?”

“Man, that really hurt,” chimed in Hisper.

“I’m crying over here,” Asmod agreed.

Clearly, I had found my path. I composed my next lines in my head.

Apropos of nothing, I blurted, “Alright you wilting ivy, if you don’t chrysanthemum up I’m going to mulch you!”

There was a deep and respectful terror-filled silence. It lasted a moment and an eternity, my words had been so profoundly terrifying.

“Will you turn us into compost?” Someone finally ventured to speak into that terrible silence.

“She is gonna mow us down!” Nox chimed in, always good for a pun.

As for Zel, who started all the mocking, I scared her so badly that she spit. It’s a strange reaction, but hey, fear makes people do funny things.

And now you all know how tough I can be when backed into a corner. I will call you shrinking violets and delicate daffodils until you weep from the sheer meanness of it all. Don’t pretend you’re not impressed.