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The Only Winning Move Is Overwhelming Firepower [PA Multicross SI]

Discussion in 'Creative Writing' started by TCGM, Oct 7, 2018.

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  1. Calamity

    Calamity Know what you're doing yet?

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    Cracky without being dumb. That's rare.

    Good job, looking forward to more!
     
    TCGM likes this.
  2. Masterjaxx

    Masterjaxx Masters, Jaxx Masters

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    I was almost expecting it to be this guy.

     
  3. zebrin

    zebrin Chopping trees down, and making elves cry.

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    The crack is goooooood shit....
    Buzzing towers with gods damned danger zone playing...
     
    Totum and TCGM like this.
  4. TCGM

    TCGM (Unverified God/Space Snek)

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    I write pseudo-crack. Basically, cracky worlds, but the characters are (mostly) serious. Usually. About a lot of things. Sometimes!

    Trolling villains like a cat with a new toy is always a valid use of any powers :p

    ;)

    [​IMG]

    Thanks! I know and try my best to make my crack be as serious as you can make crack. Sometimes it cracks me up, though.

    Well you're about to have it!

    Who says it's not that guy

    The only way you should ever buzz control towers as a sapient Clarketech war machine!
     
    Tammin, Desdiv_Eight and kaazmiz like this.
  5. Threadmarks: Chapter 7 - Unreasonable Demands
    TCGM

    TCGM (Unverified God/Space Snek)

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    The Only Winning Move Is Overwhelming Firepower
    Chapter 7
    Unreasonable Demands

    -OU ARE A GIGANTIC, RACHNI SACK GUZZLING, BANTHA FUC-

    -REWING, FLUFFY TAIL STROKING, PIECE OF MOTHERF-

    -HORRIBLE WRITING GARBAGE!

    ...Okay, now that I’ve said my piece, I need to actually figure out for sure whether Writer Me plopped me into fucking Abridged.

    And don’t you dare get upset, Writer Me. You started this. You put me here. You presumably put SAO Abridged in the roll list.

    You take everything I think about you and shut up.

    Or rather, don’t, since I’m pretty sure that would end up putting my existence on pause… but the point stands!

    And yeah, this world isn't even in the top 100 list of horrible worlds I could've been sent to. I shouldn't be this mad.

    But Abridged means I have to deal with smartass Kirito.

    I'm. Mad.

    And if this is that world, and he makes his Foundation… this planet will learn that I am just as capable of orbital bombardment as I am trolling.

    Alright. Let’s see here. Is Argus, the company that Kayaba owns and runs, that owns and created NerveGear and SAO, owned by Bethesda?

    I almost slam into a building as I stop focusing on flying straight, such is my sigh of disgust.

    Yes. Yes. It. Is.

    The abomination of code I exorcised from Cardinal makes a lot more sense now.

    Of course, it still isn’t certain. Writer Me might be going for some kind of blended, OC world somewhere between SAO and Abridged. Whether he’s doing it to exercise our worldbuilding skill, to explicitly troll me, or a combination of the two, is irrelevant. I’ll need more evidence than I can find in the real world to find out which direction I went with this universe.

    Which means hacking into SAO and being there when shit goes down as it will. I also will need to limit my involvement with the timeline before I get a confirmation.

    Heh, yeah. That ship has sailed. Past several Air Traffic Control Towers at Mach 3.

    Which means I just have to limit myself from now on, up until tomorrow when SAO launches.

    Wait. Shit. Or is it shit? Morally it’s good but temporally it’s oh so bad.

    I destroyed the code Cardinal uses, or would have used in the near future, to trigger every player’s NerveGear to melt their brains via the microwave transmitters.

    Right. So.

    I just have to make it look like they’re dying.

    ...Aaaaand, that is gonna be piss easy! Because I don’t actually have to make it look like anyone is dying to anyone else except Kayaba!

    Tricking one dude is infinitely easier than, I don’t know, trying to find every single potential SAO player and putting nanites in their heads to knock them out and fake that their brains have been cooked to anyone who observes.

    Which I will forever deny was my first idea.

    I direct myself towards the Argus HQ and engage my stealth module. Pinpoint accurate sensor systems map out my opposite side for all the nanites that make up my skin, then direct active coloration changes to accomplish a vastly superior version of the hologram tech a certain cinematic universe’s SHIELD uses to hide their shit.

    You would have to literally hit me to see me now.

    ...On second thought, that is far more likely a possibility than I like. Mental note; figure out shielding beyond electromagnetic deflection ASAP.




    The skyline of future Japan is beautiful. Towers of steel, glass, concrete, and what has to be a PCMR architect’s idea of a joke (that much RGB should be illegal) rise to pierce the clouds. There's also a surprisingly dense amount of foliage and quite a few new buildings that lean far more towards Solarpunk than I expected.

    Seems this world's Japan took the Paris Accords a lot more seriously them my own. And that's saying something, given my world's Japan.

    Then again I'm American. What the hell do I know, really, about other countries? Only what I could find out through the net and not so subtle interrogation of natives.

    At least the orange cheeto never got into the White House in this timeline.

    “Pshaw,” I mutter at my own woolgathering.

    Waiting for business meetings to end is so boring I'm going down the rabbit hole of cross universe politics.

    “ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MINDS?!” Kayaba's scream manages to breach out from the conference room behind me and through two very solid doors. “A NEW SYSTEM? AT THIS HOUR?! WE'RE JUST ABOUT TO LAUNCH YOU MISERABLE, UNGRATEFUL SONS OF-”

    It just goes downhill from there.

    Yep. You read that correctly.

    SAO is supposed to open to non beta players and reset the world in just under an hour.

    And a couple of Bethesda higher ups showed up at Argue, coincidentally just seconds after me, to demand an ad system be implemented into the game.

    On launch.

    Which is under an hour away.

    ...Are we sure Bethesda didn't own Argus in SAO canon, too? Because this is more than enough justification to snap and hold all the players hostage.

    Though if this is Abridged, which I admit is becoming increasingly more likely, the last minute implementation demand certainly explains why the ads in the first episode were so damn obvious and immersion breaking.

    “Man,” I comment out loud to the completely empty corridor, “poor Kayaba.”

    Huh. That's not a phrase I thought I'd ever think, much less say.

    {World Encounter Roll: SAO:A, Japan. 1d20. Success >10. Result: 12. World Roll success. Region specific Encounter spawned.}

    For a moment, something sounds like it's whispering unintelligible things in the back of my head.

    Then a muffled crash and a series of booms resound outside. My attention immediately snaps in the direction of their source.

    …What.

    No way.

    …Is that?

    My eyebrows rise almost unintentionally at the sight I'm witnessing out the window right now.

    …It is.

    The screams, a concerning number of them feminine, are audible from here. Even to a normal human.

    I wipe my eyes, then have every nanite diagnose their sensors.

    …It's real.

    A giant tentacle monster is grappling onto another skyscraper across from me. It's slowly hauling its massive body, covered in writhing tentacles, up the amazingly not giving a crap tower. And the thing is pulling… is that a tank? along for the ride.

    ...

    Gods damn it, Japan! You had one job!




    {Happy New Year’s, everyone! Also, I’m sick. Significant contributor to the lack of content from me. Also the holidays, but mostly being sick.}
     
  6. MadGreenSon

    MadGreenSon Verified Devil Tiger, The Childish Yandere

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    Unlike canon, at least Abridged has an actual reason why everything goes tits up with the game.
     
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  7. Tallonos

    Tallonos Making the rounds.

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    Which is correct?
     
  8. TCGM

    TCGM (Unverified God/Space Snek)

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    Canon actually does have a reason.

    The anime just hasn't gotten there yet.

    It's still a stupid reason, don't get me wrong, but it does exist xD

    Argus, woops.
     
    Tallonos and UnfortunateWatcher like this.
  9. Sovereign Of All

    Sovereign Of All Getting out there.

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    :D:D:DHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!
     
    TCGM likes this.
  10. adaw

    adaw furry dweeb

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    Most reasons for things seem stupid if you think about them thoroughly enough.
     
  11. Threadmarks: Chapter 8 - Burn It To The Ground
    TCGM

    TCGM (Unverified God/Space Snek)

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    The Only Winning Move Is Overwhelming Firepower
    Chapter 8
    Burn It To The Ground

    Right.

    Tentacle monster scaling a skyscraper in Japan.

    ...Because, hey, why not?

    If this sounds like an encounter I'd design… that's because it is.

    So now I have random RP-style encounters to look forwards to sometimes, it seems. Thanks, Writer Me!

    I can almost hear your demented snickering. Shut it.

    Another glance back at the boardroom doors proves that Kayaba is still ranting.

    I turn to look out the window the monster… and nod to myself.

    I've got time.

    Now how the hell do I get out of this maze of a building? Without going through the window, of course. I am trying to be moderately stealthy.

    Let's see here… pull up the floor plan of the building, which isn't exactly published publicly but who cares, I'm a BESRMoW, aaaand…

    Okay, whoever designed this should be tossed into the sun. Buildings are supposed to have more than two exits!

    Guess I have to choose one. Either where I came in, or…



    Roof exit it is!




    One flight up the service stairwell later and I have roof, and thus open air, access. My thrusters flare, launching my body into the sky.

    And a few skyscrapers over is the monster.

    I turn to align with it and thrust harder, just barely slowing before the sound barrier is obliterated.

    Heh. Forgot how powerful my thrust is. This isn't KSP, I don't have to instantly set my throttle to maximum.

    Anyways, tentacle monster.

    How do I beat this thing?

    I scan the monster visually, checking its body for anything that sticks out or might indicate a win condition.

    There's quite a few anomalous red bulges, almost like sores, nestled at various locations upon its slick flesh.

    …Those look like a bunch of obvious weak points.

    Well that makes this simple.

    I fly further up into the air and extend my finger in a line directly intersecting one of the growths close to the center of its body, at least from my current vantage point. I managed to get about halfway there before I figured out my chosen solution, so Japan's about to get a hell of a show.

    A millisecond of processing is all I need to push the concept I've had for a cool weapon for a very long time to my Progenitor design program, and then in turn to my nanites.

    First thing, uncloak. I don't actually need to, but this is gonna be awesome, and I want memes, damn it!

    It takes a second or two, bit someone on the ground finally notices me.

    That's right Japan, I am the senpai now.

    Look, I know that's not how the honorific nor the phrase work, but I'm American… or was, at least, so there!

    Anyways, five cameras, a news chopper, and at least one live stream are focused on me now.

    Good enough!

    Pay attention, extrauniversal gals and guys. This is how you make plasma.

    Step One: Show off. Five flat rings of golden light expand around my raised index finger, pointing directly at the monster. The first, by my hand, is the largest, and they taper down as they reach the tip of my finger.

    Step Two: Power. A grand total of 0.000001% of my nanite body's energy storage capacity is shunted to the nanites that make up my fingertip.

    Step Three: Guidance. Momentarily emit a electromagnetic corridor, something rather far back in technological development as far as Progenitor tech progression, directly towards the growth.

    Step Four: WTF?!. Then, shunt all that energy directly down it.

    The air inside doesn't just become a plasma, it flashes. Like lightning.

    Think of a Repulsor blast. From Iron Man.

    Now make it a solid line from firing point to impact.

    Also give it the energy of about a million Arc reactors.

    This brings us to Step Five: Profit. Or, in layman's terms:

    For a moment there is a second star in the sky, and then the air rushes back in with a thunderous thoooooom.

    Ahhhh. I love me some vaporized atmosphere in the morn-

    I check the time.

    -late afternoon.

    What's left of the tentacle monster is falling off the skyscraper. No humans caught by it in the time since it appeared and I dealt with it, so no casualties. Also, despite what Hollywood would have you believe, nobody is stupid enough in real life to stand still under a massive falling object and peripheral tank.

    Thirty feet from the impact zone with their phones out and recording, but not actually in the zone.

    Job's finished, I guess.

    I upload my own footage of the fight, if you can call it that, to the Internet with the title “From Planetcaller, with love, come on Japan,” then cloak and head back to Argus HQ.

    Gonna have to do better than that to give me a challenge in the world of SAO, Writer Me.

    {Challenge accepted.}

    I heard that! I don't know what you said but I heard something! And knowing us, you just accepted my challenge.

    Bring it on!




    By the time I'm back at Argus, the board meeting is over and Kayaba has fucked off to who knows where.

    And it really is who knows where. Even I can't find him.

    Mostly because Argus HQ doesn't have any internal surveillance, he's not present in front of any other surveillance system, and I stupidly neglected to bookmark his biometrics so that my own sensors could keep track of him.

    Damn it.

    Well, guess I'll just have to track him down once he logs in to his admin account.

    Time to park my body somewhere hidden and take a look inside SAO, I guess.

    Hmm…

    Well, I always wanted to visit Mount Fuji.

    But first I should ensure quick Internet access no matter where I am. Or, rather, quick SAO access.

    What better place than Argus HQ, the very place they host the thing?

    It's the work of seconds to develop, materialize, and deploy a simple Progenitor network relay.

    They even snaked fiber optics all the way up to the roof. Just for me.

    Into the gods damned sun, I swear.




    Exfoliating in magma is great. Warm, tingly, and a literal full body surrounding pressured hug blanket.

    Why yes, my body is in the magma chamber of Mount Fuji. How'd you guess?

    I dug through the crater rock to get here, dematerializing any barrier and rematerializing it behind me. That way, Fuji won't suddenly blow its top due to the relative pinhole I'd have opened up.

    I'm soaking up the heat to generate more energy. I did use all of 0.000001%, after all, and I need the refill.

    It'll take a few minutes, even at my 100% efficiency heart conversion ratio.

    In good news, Fuji won't erupt anytime in the next hundred years!

    Anyways, my Network relay is still functioning and communicating with me.

    So is Scout-chan, too. Knowing the Internet, you lot have probably started a cult around the drone.

    It's not a cute girl. Yet.

    If I have urgent need of an AI assistant, though, she's first on the list, okay?

    Anyways, fetch a copy of the developer level SAO code from Argus’ servers… and done.

    Time to log in.

    I close my eyes and get settled, then execute the function.

    Oh come on, an unskippable cutscene? Gods damn it, Bethesda!




    I stand in The Town of Beginnings. In the main square, the place everyone logs in at.

    The fact there's gigantic ads floating in the air above my head is what clued me in that this universe might not exactly be standard faire.

    Other than Bethesda's involvement, rather. And the state of Kayaba. And… okay, there's actually a ton of indicators that this is Abridged floating around.

    But I don't know for sure.

    I'm waiting here specifically so that I can know. It is possible that vanilla SAO had ads that just weren't discussed, or Writer Me added them as a form of passive aggressive political and societal commentary. Not likely, but certainly possible. A similar scenario could've occurred with Kayaba or any of the other indicators I've seen.

    But Kirito?

    No.

    He’s unique.

    His reaction will define exactly which universe I'm in. The way he talks, the way he speaks.

    Could ads be added to vanilla SAO without disturbing the story much? Yes. Could Kayaba be suffering a mental breakdown from pressure and SAO continue as it did? Yes!

    Could Vanilla!Kirito and Abridged!Kirito ever be in the same room without trying to rend the other limb from limb due to the affront to what they each consider important that their counterpart represents?

    That is a big, fat, neutron star massed fucking no way in hell.

    But it is incredibly boring watching thousands of people glow into existence.

    Not him, not him, a girl so not him… I think.

    Ugh.

    “Cardinal, will you please alert me when a player named Kirito shows up?” I ask thin air. “I'm gonna go kill some shit."

    I haven't uplifted Cardinal yet. I just coopted its control. Too many assumptions can get me killed. I don't want to chance unleashing a Gray Goo of the PA variety on this world before I know more.

    And Cardinal is way too fucking close for my liking.

    So before I uplift the system, I want to know what world I'm in.

    Command request acknowledged.

    See? Way too close. It's not sentient and yet still sounds far more so than it should.

    Not that that pseudo sentience stopped me from implementing my own ‘magic’ and tech into the system.

    Because I really, really want to see the collective SAO player base's faces when I use the same plasma lightning laser trick I hit the tentacle monster with to one hit the first floor boss.

    And the second floor boss.

    And the third.

    One quick calculation… yeah, I'll only need to fire off that sucker more than once at floor 58.

    But hey, at least the HP for the floor 80 boss indicates it'll take two and a half!

    Ooh, ooh, and the floor 99 boss takes five!!!

    Kayaba is the hundredth floor boss, so I can't tell how much health he'll have.

    Worst case, I need to use all ten of my fingers. Or a palm, even.

    I know I've said it before, but this world's challenges pretty much don't exist for me.

    The memes of the ‘fuckhuge fuck off beam’ are legendary, though.




    As I've been fighting, I've also been thinking.

    Why exactly do I need to fake anything for Kayaba?

    The guy needs mental help, not… me allowing him to continue down his current path.

    I have the power to help him, or at least to pay for those who can. Diamonds take about a split second for me to assemble and they've only become more valuable with the rise of VR technology.

    Same with carbon nanotubes. Or, like, a thousand other commodities that any Kardashev 0.5 Civ would kill to possess.

    But if I help him… if I stop his atrocities, then so many things just don't happen. I'm meddling with thousands of people's lives. Do I have that right?

    Heh. Suddenly I kind of see where Roddenberry was going with the Prime Directive.

    Don't get me wrong, it's still a stupid as all hell rule system, but there are a few bright bulbs in the pack where it's concerned.

    I sigh as yet another dungeon monster falls to my weapon.

    A lightsaber, of course. With a built in teleportation system that blinks me to a nearby target and attacks automatically.

    What? You thought I'd put actual effort into killing mobs? Hahaha hahaha hahaha hahaha!

    Anyways, what it really comes down to is this; can I watch people suffer, possibly dying, in order to ensure the timeline's integrity? For the vague hope that characters I've seen and enjoyed the experiences of on a screen will become the characters I recognize?

    ...No.

    No, I cannot. I will not. Even if I still just considered them characters, and not the people they now are to me, I still couldn't live with myself.

    It's just… wrong.

    So I'll meddle. Hell, I'll do more than meddle. I will force the world and its peoples lives to a better place. I will hit Peak Derail so hard and so fast that Jump-chan would be left dizzy.

    ...

    Is this why you sent me here, Writer Me? Give me a world without any challenges besides moral and ethical to see how I'd decide what my morals and ethics in my misadventures are to be?

    I look at the sky and frown. “Clever bastard.”

    I swear the Aincrad sun is grinning at me.

    “It wasn't even a real roll, was it.”

    The sun abruptly shakes back and forth, a vehement no.

    Bet that looks weird to anybody else ingame. Way to be clandestine, Writer Me.

    “I refuse to believe your universe's Murphy is this on point.”

    The sun shrugs. It has no arms, no legs, no head, no shoulders, and yet it shrugs.

    “Really milking that Eldritch Author God power for all it’s worth, aren't you?”

    The sun sticks out a tongue at me, manifesting one momentarily just for doing so.

    Then a hologram of the Vulcan hand greeting pops up.

    “You've been watching Trek again, haven't you.”

    That is one smug sun.

    Admin Alert: Player Kirito has logged in to The Town of Beginnings.

    And there's my cue.

    “Teleport me to the spawn zone,” I command Cardinal.

    Acknowledged.

    Light flares around my avatar and a moment later I'm standing in the main square. Right behind someone who looks extremely familiar.

    The now ad filled square.

    “Aww come on, really?!” the guy in front of me says. “That's just disgusting.”

    Oh hello, Kirito.

    “Activate ad blocker.”

    A giant window opens up with SAO Store as the title, asking if he wants to buy the Adblocker DLC for a penny less than thirty bucks.

    “Heh heh heh,” he laughs… kind of dementedly, honestly. “Ahhhh… I am going to burn this fucker to the ground.”

    Yep. That's the line alright.

    Welp.

    Guess I'm in Abridged.

    Wooo.

    I even make a little fist pump to underline my overflowing excitement.

    Gods damn it, Writer Me.
     
  12. MadGreenSon

    MadGreenSon Verified Devil Tiger, The Childish Yandere

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    Yeah, Kirito is an asshole, but at least the world makes more sense! :p
     
  13. IsaacTheAutobot1229

    IsaacTheAutobot1229 Not too sore, are you?

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    I still find it funny that the abridged is mostly better than the original
     
  14. MadGreenSon

    MadGreenSon Verified Devil Tiger, The Childish Yandere

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    The Abridged version, for all it's comedy, does make it more like actual gamers are playing the game. Idiots and all. It feels more authentic to me. Especially the part where Kirito, a dedicated gamer, is a socially maladjusted ass.
     
  15. kaazmiz

    kaazmiz Waiting for an Issekai Adventure

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    Stereotype much?
     
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  16. MadGreenSon

    MadGreenSon Verified Devil Tiger, The Childish Yandere

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    It's a stereotype because it's so often true. Go play some online games and listen to the players.
     
    Kasikan likes this.
  17. kaazmiz

    kaazmiz Waiting for an Issekai Adventure

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    I do play.
    Which is why this seems so strange to me.
    Unless its CoD or Halo. Then I won't be surprised why Ab!Kirito seemed to fit for many people.
     
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  18. MadGreenSon

    MadGreenSon Verified Devil Tiger, The Childish Yandere

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    I've seen plenty of the same nonsense in MMOs too, it's just easier to avoid if you stay within a close circle of like minded folks. Survival games like Rust and those like it are the worst though.
     
    Idiot444 and Zhen_Electric like this.
  19. CrunchySharpie

    CrunchySharpie A wild Bowsette appeared!

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    Greater Internet Fuckwad Theory. -G.I.F.T.

    Consider that a vast majority of the games played now-a-days are competitive and/or cooperative, and that quite a few of those games reward you, sometimes handsomely, for being a total assbag to each other (Survival games like DayZ, Rust, etc, where you can kill a player and fuck loot the body are especially susceptible.) simple positive reinforcement has players acting in that way, even if sometimes that isn't the most efficient method of play, everybody's been conditioned to be a cunt to the NPC's or fellow players. Or have you not saved your game in Skyrim and then proceeded to Fus Ro Dah someone off a mountain for shiggles before reloading the save? Now apply that to people who actually respond to your trolling and the subsequent increase in amusement and the egging on from the peanut gallery that will inevitably form up around the spectacle.

    If you actually play with randoms, you meet all types, including the fuckwads who would normally get picked last during internet dodgeball. Granted, when the game stops being a game, many of those fuckwads would revert to normal, mostly adjusted human beings, but not all of them. Abridged Kirito is firmly in the 'not all of them' camp.
     
  20. Threadmarks: Chapter 9 - Off The Rails Before We've Even Begun
    TCGM

    TCGM (Unverified God/Space Snek)

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    The Only Winning Move Is Overwhelming Firepower
    Chapter 9
    Off The Rails Before We’ve Even Begun

    Player Get: Antisocial Smartass x1.

    Kirito rants in front of me about shitty games while I take the time to think.

    He hasn't noticed me yet. Kinda hard to do that when you're ranting and raving, to be fair. And I don't really look any different to a normal human if I'm not flying around or firing off beams.

    Other than my large size, Caucasian features, and auburn hair, anyways, but that's only rare in Japan.

    … Holy shit, am I the white version of the anime exchange student?

    Something to ponder for later, I guess.

    At the moment, a prime opportunity for fucking why Kirito has appeared before me. Namely, Kirito himself.

    I would be remiss in my duties as Planetcaller if I didn't jump in feet first.

    Just gotta make one little change to my avatar… and done!

    I walk right up behind him, the guy still bitching about intrusive advertising, and put on my best smile. I make sure my cloak is draping across the paved stones of the Grand Square, then toggle the visibility of my avatar.

    A few gasps rise from some of the players around us, but I pay them no attention. “KIRITO!” I bellow, my voice sending a blast of force towards just strong enough to lift the dust from the ground.

    In the shape of a cone, stretching from my body to the edge of the city.

    Kirito actually leaps into the air. “HOLY SHIT!” he screams, just like a little girl.

    Once his feet are back on the ground, he whirls to face me, an expression of anger on his face. “Who the hell do you think you ar-” he begins to demand, but finds the question dying in his throat.

    A hooded figure stands in front of him, my cloak spilling down my tall, stocky body and over the pavestones. My face can't be seen, as I have it obscured by a shadow.

    But the thing that has Kirito speechless is the glowing title right above my head.

    <Game Master>.

    Kirito gulps, standing straighter. “Y-yes, sir?” he manages, though it's obvious the effort is Herculean.

    I smirk under my hood. Not that he can see it, of course, but he'll know I'm smirking, and that's the point. Time to deliver the hastily made up Bullshit, with a capital, I just thought of. “YOU WERE THE FIRST DURING THE BETA TEST TO LOCATE THE MAGIC EGG.” There was no such magic egg. “AS SUCH, WE ARE OFFERING YOU THE OPPORTUNITY TO CONTINUE YOUR EXPLORATORY WORK.” Gods, I can barely keep the cackling I'm doing in my head from escaping. “A NEW MAGIC SYSTEM HAS BEEN IMPLEMENTED.” Technically true, only it was I who implemented it. “WILL YOU ACCEPT OUR OFFERING?”

    To complete this speech, I hold a hand out to the side as if to grasp a staff. Taking a single second (Commander mental accelerating is so damn cool), I design the item I'll be giving Kirito and then add it to the game's database. I drop the mental acceleration, and spawn it.

    From my hand a golden light flares. It forms into the shape of a cylinder, then spreads up and down from my hand, illustrating the rough form of a staff. The bottom extends to the pavestones at the same moment as the orb at the head forms, deploying flared wings.

    The final result is a tall metal battlestaff, paladin white, with raised golden trim spiralling around the shaft all the way to the top. Nestled atop the shaft stands a sky blue orb, framed by two flared white and gold feathered wings. The orb glows with a visible aura of power.

    Kirito stares at me.

    The entire Square stares at me, or him, interchangeably.

    Even Cardinal is staring at me. Or whatever its equivalent of staring is.

    WHAT SAY YOU?” my voice booms in his face.

    Kirito swallows, staring at the staff. “Yes. Uh, I accept,” he says, holding out his hand.

    I hesitate, staring him down. Only for effect, of course. “VERY WELL,” is my eventual answer. I let go of the staff, and using the item positioning function of the admin controls, cause it to ‘fly’ away from my hand, up, and into his.

    The moment his hand locks around it, he shudders. He glows golden and sky blue for a few seconds, and then the feeling and the glow fades.

    Part of the magic system is a sort of ‘sixth sense’ I programmed into it. It's not actually a sense at all; the system triggers spine tingling, skin tingling, and the amygdala to cause a feeling of Other, either watching you, or existing next to you. The intensity is linked directly to how much ‘magical’ power, or rather mana, is present around or inside an avatar.

    A moment after Kirito stops shuddering, he glares at the staff. He even tries to turn his glare on me… but then his face pales.

    Because of course I registered Game Masters as having overwhelming levels of mana.

    WE WISH YOU LUCK, KIRITO. YOUR MAGICAL COMBAT TESTING WILL BE AMUSING TO WATCH.” I turn, stepping almost through my cloak, to address everyone present. “YOU WILL FIND EQUIPMENT AND CHARACTER UPGRADES FOR THE MAGIC SYSTEM IN THE NEW WIZARD SHOPS WITHIN THIS TOWN. GOOD LUCK.

    And with that, I fade my avatar away, as if I wasn't ever there.

    Kirito, the square, and everyone in it are silent, stunned at what just occurred.

    For a whole ten seconds.

    And then the nerdgasm fueled squeals and whoops about the fact Magic is in the game begin.

    Even Kirito is celebrating, if you can call staring off into space with a confused look celebrating.

    Which I totally can. And do.

    I expect his celebration to last just as long as it takes for him to discover exactly what his fancy new staff does to his avatar when he uses magic. Any magic. Even from another magic weapon.

    Cardinal even has an event hook on the staff, connected to a recording trigger.

    His reaction is going to be legendary, and I will post it across the entirety of the Internet. Move over GallowBoob, I'm the new Meme Lord.

    Anyways, time to head to the real world for a spell.

    Heh. A spell.

    I'm gonna claim that pun was intentional.

    {A likely tale.}

    Stfu, Writer Me!




    “Where the hell did this ‘magic’ system come from?!” Kayaba yells, storming into the command center of SAO.

    Yes, there's an actual command center. I know, right? I'd assumed not, as they should've been able to override Kayaba in canon, but then again… maybe this is where he actually controlled everything from?

    “We don't know,” one of the other programmers says. “As far as we can tell, the system just…” he trails off, shrugging. “Made it. Itself.”

    Kayaba's eyebrows rise. “Made it itself?” he repeats disbelievingly.

    “Yes,” another developer, one of the many level designers, chimes in.

    “Cardinal isn't sentient,” Kayaba declares, “so it can't have created something like this on its own. Emergent systems yes, an entire new aspect?” He shakes his head. “No. Something else is going on.”

    I cross my arms and smirk. I'm slightly behind Kayaba, leaning against a server rack. They have surprisingly solid server racks in the near future, apparently. One last thing to do.

    I materialize the same set of cool sunglasses I used to mess with Hawaii in my face, then decloak.

    “You're right,” I say, over the gasps and even a couple screams from a man and a woman, “Cardinal didn't make the Magic system.”

    Kayaba spins around.

    Before he can say anything, I continue. “I did.”

    “Who are you?!” he demands, glaring at me.

    I look up at him over my slightly lowered glasses. “Planetcaller.”

    Dead. Silence.

    Kayaba opens and closes his mouth, trying to find something to say.

    “W-What?” one of the other devs squeaks.

    “I'm Planetcaller, as your world seems to have named me,” I repeat, standing up from the wall. “And I have a deal for all of you.”

    Still more silence. I raise my eyebrows and grin.

    “Space alien got your tongue?” I innocently ask.




    And like that, canon is dead.

    Turns out that offering to buy up not only your company, but also to buy out all parent companies all the way to the top, and promising that not only will I let them keep developing SAO but actually want to expand it with my magic system as an example of my ‘programming’ chops, gains you a lot of loyalty from the developers of said game.

    Especially when you smile kindly, drag their director into another room, and inform him that he clearly needs therapy and you're gonna pay for it.

    Needless to say, Kayaba accepted my deal.

    There's just one tiny little problem with this plan.

    I have nowhere near enough money to pull it off.

    Oh sure, I theoretically have enough on my unlimited credit card that I made for myself, but here's the thing; that only works and escapes detection because I'm not spending much with it, and there is actually a small tide of income going into the account.

    Namely, all the dead transactions lost in the clusterfuck that is worldwide banking.

    But that income is not remotely enough to flat out buy Bethesda and all their subsidiaries, of which Argus is a member.

    So.

    I need money.

    Lots of money.

    And while I could cheat it into existence, I'd much rather be the good guy, give my favorite political system a migraine, and mess with the entire world at the same time.

    Oh yeah.

    You know exactly where I'm going.

    Planetcaller to Reagan Tower, how're you doing this fine evening?” I cast out into the airwaves.

    The groan of pain audible through the radio channel that really shouldn't be broadcasting without the operator doing so (but fuck you, I'm Planetcaller) is music to my ears.

    What do you want?” the operator asks me, annoyed.

    Well I just happened to look up your nice city on your global information index and I noticed that you have this thing called a no fly zone over quite a large area!” I cheerily inform her. “I believe it said that all airborne craft need to file flight plans if they enter that area?

    I can almost hear her eyes narrowing. “That's correct. The FRZ is a no fly zone unless authorized.” She sighs, putting her hands on her forehead. “Why?

    Ah, good, I was worried I was reading Wookiepedia incorrectly,” I lament.

    Wikipedia, it's Wikipedia,” she corrects me.

    Oh. My mistake. Though that explains why there was so much stuff that didn't make sense on it when I double checked…” I comment, intentionally channeling a blonde for a few moments.

    Another sigh. “What do you want, Planetcaller?” she asks irately.

    Well, now that we've got that cleared up, I'm actually calling you to inform you of my flight plan, as much as I can have a plan to fly anywhere,” I inform her.

    She's silent for several seconds, allowing me to close even further with my target. The clouds up here are actually quite beautiful.

    A “What? Is he serious?” comes from someone else in the Tower I'm in contact with.

    Come again?” my operator asks.

    I'm informing you of my flight plan!” I cheekily repeat myself.

    Another couple seconds of silence. “No, that's not how it works, you have to ask us for permission-” the operator begins to protest.

    I spy my target in the distance, the lawn green and groomed and perfect for a landing I'm hoping to make my signature. “No I don't, I'm not a citizen of your world,” I fire back, grinning ear to ear. “You might want to make sure the red carpet is ready though.

    Red carpet…?” she asks, trailing off.

    Oh, shit!” comes from a third person. Clearly whoever they were figured out what I meant.

    I'm taking myself to your leader,” I say, closing the channel.

    I'm right above where I need to be now, and so I cut my thrusters.

    Turns out several million Progenitor nanites weigh quite a lot.

    I fall out of the sky like a stone.

    The air raid sirens of the city below me (I didn't even know they had those) begin to blare as I pass 18,000 feet and actually enter the exclusion zone.

    10,000 feet and I can see the Chopper prepping for takeoff.

    5,000 and I plummet right past the cockpit of an F15, grinning and flipping him the bird in the traditional way.

    At just over 2,000 feet, the people on the ground can finally see me. A few point up at me, prompting most of them to take out their phones.

    At 1,000 the building of the lawn I'm aimed at is looming towards me, and even those trying to get their leader to the Chopper notice my presence.

    I curl up in preparation for landing.

    A few seconds later, impact. I slam straight into the ground with a loud BOOM, kicking up grass and dirt and sending a shockwave through the ground.

    I flared my thrusters at the last moment so that I wouldn't drop straight into the lawn, of course.

    I landed on one of my knees and one of my fists, my other arm protecting my bowed head and learning on my other leg, the foot of which is solidly planted on the grass.

    I stand up slowly, brushing off the little debris that got on me, and look over at the Chopper.

    “Honey, I'm hooooome!” I announce to the white, Grecian columned, domed mansion smack dab in front of me.

    And the small tide of black suited men and women in glasses almost as cool as mine pouring out the front doors.

    Yep.

    I just did a tactical vertical superhero insertion into the White House lawn.

    Let nobody ever claim I don't know how to show off.
     
    Last edited: Apr 25, 2019
  21. Dracohuman

    Dracohuman A curse upon you

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    "yes this totally the president. What? Just a Scarecrow with a picture of there face taped to it? Nooo... Don't be ridiculous, Its totally the president." -Some Shady Government Spook
     
    Last edited: Oct 19, 2022
  22. zebrin

    zebrin Chopping trees down, and making elves cry.

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    Seriously, you are fucking with everyone here. It is hilarious.
    Those poor tower operators.
     
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  23. ArcaneReader

    ArcaneReader Master Of The Arcane (Not)

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    Ha
     
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  24. TCGM

    TCGM (Unverified God/Space Snek)

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    For some reason I can see not only the government, but SHIELD, trying this. Only to see if it works.

    What else would an OP Clarketech troll do on a planet like SAO:A's Earth? Be responsible? Pssh.

    Ah.

    New chapter incoming.
     
  25. Threadmarks: Chapter 10 - Best Laid Plans
    TCGM

    TCGM (Unverified God/Space Snek)

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    The Only Winning Move Is Overwhelming Firepower
    Chapter 10
    Best Laid Plans

    Kate Lethbridge-Stewart.

    The woman sitting across the Resolute Desk from me.

    Head of UNIT in a fictional universe.

    And apparently the gods damned President.

    "How the hell did you get elected?" I ask her, raising an eyebrow.

    She blinks, taken aback. "Excuse me?" she asks, entirely surprised.

    In a very British accent.

    "That!" I say, pointing at her. "That right there! I don't care if you were born here, how the hell do you get elected as the President of the United States with an accent that British?!"

    She smiles, finally seeing what I mean. "Ah," she comments.

    And her entire demeanor shifts.

    "It's not that hard," she informs me, in the most Californian accent I've ever heard, "You just have to be multi accented."

    Stunned. That's all I am for several long seconds.

    "Well," she breathes in, grinning, "I shocked Planetcaller." She relaxes back in her chair. "That'll be one to tell around the United Nations water cooler."

    That snaps me back into paying attention. "Heh," I grin, matching her. "That it is."

    "So what can I do for you?" Kate asks, raising an eyebrow.

    I tilt my head to the side to communicate feigned confusion. "What makes you think I want something?"

    She raises three fingers and starts counting them down. "The lawn replacement I have to authorize, for one," she begins, deadpan.

    I have the urge to wince. I try to stop that impulse.

    I wince anyways.

    Her grin turns into a smirk at that. "For two, you're here."

    I nod in agreement. "Okay, that one I'll give you."

    "And finally for three; the fact that most of my Secret Service is in various, different, and frankly inspired manners of embarrassing situations." She glares at me, then points out the door.

    I follow her finger to the open Oval Office door. On the other side of it is the hall with all the presidential busts… and about fifty Secret Service agents.

    Some are anchored to the walls with fast assembled squishy foam, or for one particularly big man who attempted to suplex me, several super tough Hello Kitty dolls hugging him and bonded to the wall themselves.

    He's still hitting them.

    The others are on the ceiling or the floor. Those on the floor were the lucky ones. I mostly only knocked them out and drew dicks on their faces with a multicolored, sparkly sharpie.

    The ceiling ones, though?

    They're the ones that annoyed me.

    One woman has a Victorian dress on, hanging from the garter belt included in it.

    She slapped me.

    A guy yelled at me and attempted to knock me down by charging me head on.

    Conan the Barbarian outfit crossed with He-Man, and a massive battleaxe secured to his back and the ceiling.

    The other guy who annoyed me is the worst, though.

    He shot me.

    I ate the bullet. Literally, I whipped out a plate and cutlery and ate the bullet piece by piece once I handled all the Service members who were willing to attempt attacking me.

    After I was done eating I poured nanites on the guy who shot me and made him a bodysuit shaped like Bullet Bill… after having been transformed by a Super Crown.

    He's still a guy on the inside, but he sure doesn't look, sound, or even feel like it anymore.

    It will decay in a week. Unless of course he ends up liking it.

    "I'm not apologizing," I refute her unspoken request. "They attacked me first."

    Kate rolls her eyes. "I figured," she deadpans in that uniquely British way. "Alucard."

    My eyes widen with surprise. A cursory search of the Internet reveals to me that my world's fiction is present here as well.

    Including Hellsing Abridged.

    And, as my rebuttal will reference, Doctor Who.

    "Leader of UNIT," I fire back, grinning cheekily.

    She sighs and leans back. "You know, when they asked me to act for that show, I really had no idea why," she reminisces absently. "Now I know it was for the memes."

    I nod sagely, closing my eyes momentarily. "For truly, the memes are the end result of all things."

    "Quite," she agrees. Kate then continues to stare at me, like I'm some kind of puzzle.

    I raise an eyebrow again. "What?"

    "I'm just trying to figure you out," she admits.

    "Oh?" I ask coyly.

    "Yes," she affirms. "You show up on our planet with no warning, obviously not from here, and instead of conquering us or harvesting our world for resources, or even opening diplomatic talks, you buzz our airport towers as a reference to one of our movies, mess with a poor barista in Hawaii, mess with all of us by making your contact point the man you did-"

    My face brightens, and I smile happily. "Oh, you've met him!"

    She glares at me, both for interrupting her and for choosing him. "Yes. We have. And he nearly made the Russian President commit international homicide."

    My grin doesn't fade one bit. "I'm not apologizing for that either," I singsong.

    "I figured, again," she unamusedly deadpans. "You visit Japan and create, then subsequently destroy, a giant tentacle monster, and then what… come straight here?"

    I shrug. "More or less."

    She scowls at me. "A tentacle monster?" Kate reiterates. "Really, Planetcaller?"

    "What?" I defend myself. "It's thematic!"

    Kate groans, collapsing back in her chair. "And on top of all that, the thing that's got my interest specifically," she continues, glaring at me, "is you."

    And she just hands me a platinum opportunity on a golden platter, accompanied by silver cutlery. "Why Kate!" I gasp, putting a hand on my chest as if flattered, "I had no idea! You… like, like me?"

    Kate's head meets her desk.

    I just got the Present of the gods damned United States to face desk into the Resolute Desk.

    That's gotta be a record.





    I stayed silent for several minutes, allowing Kate to recover.

    "I think I might actually dislike you," she eventually grumbles.

    "Hmmm… you're British, not Canadian, so does that mean you only detest my presence?" I ask, sounding intrigued. "Cuz I mean, if a Canadian said that to me, I'd know I was in big trouble."

    Kate raises her head from her desk and glares at me. "What. Do you want. Planetcaller," she grinds out.

    Time to get serious. "A few hundred billion dollars," I announce.

    Kate stares at me four several long, dumbfounded seconds. "...What?" she eventually squeaks.

    Squeaks. Kate Lethbridge-Stewart.

    "Yep."

    She blinks, then her eyes flicker over to the hallway of disabled Service agents.

    I catch her worry almost immediately. "Oh, no, no!" I assure her, waving my hands. "I'm not demanding it or anything. I want to trade!"

    Kate relaxes, slumping back into her chair. "Oh."

    I grin genuinely at her. "Yup!" I reaffirm. "I'm sure I have something, or can get or make something, or do something, for your nation that's worth that much!"

    Kate crosses her fingers over each other and focuses on my face. "Continue," she grants me.

    I hum under my breath, tilting my head to either side. "Honestly Kate, I can't. You're a civilization barely scraping Kardashev 0.5, and I'm equivalent to something like… I think a 3? On that scale?" I raise a finger to tap my chin absentmindedly, thinking. "What's 1 again? Planet? Then local star, then galaxy?"

    Kate's eyes widen. "Yes, that is the scale," she agrees. "You can… harvest an entire galaxy?"

    I smirk at her. "People like me can harvest entire universes given enough time, Kate," I correct her, grinning with glee at her suddenly ashen face. "So really, toss an idea my way, I can probably pull it off."

    The President of the United States gulps. "...scrub the excess greenhouse gasses out of our atmosphere?" she hopefully asks.

    Woah. I'm actually surprised, and impressed. The first thing an American politician asks for is for me to solve global warming? I raise my eyebrows and lean forward. "Easy," I inform her. "Would you like your glaciers reset as well?"

    Her eyes practically pop out of her head. "You can do that too?"

    I smirk at her, my only way of answering.

    "...Right," she laments, remembering what I'd told her just before this.

    "Honestly, I'm impressed," I say. "I expected something like destroying your nation's enemies or wiping out your national debt."

    Kate's eyebrows join her eyes in attempting escape velocity of her head. "You… you would do that?" she stammers.

    "Not for a couple hundred billion dollars," I deadpan, flattening my smile.

    "...Oh," she deflates.

    "What's it at now, almost thirty trillion?" I ask, curiosity getting the better of me. And yes, I'm only addressing the one option out of the two I just listed that I'm willing to consider.

    She just nods, defeat on her face.

    "What does your nation have that's even worth that much? The west coast?"

    Kate nods again, then her eyes start to shine. "Would you do it?" she asks excitedly.

    I blink at her. "Do what?"

    She grins. "Buy the west coast."

    I stare at her, my turn to be dumbfounded. "...What?" I manage.

    "Thirty trillion dollars, buy the west coast," she summarizes.

    I open and close my mouth, nothing coming out. "Say what?" I repeat.

    "If I can get Congress and the states themselves to agree, will you buy Alaska, Washington, Oregon, and California for thirty trillion dollars in hard currency?" She looks just like the cat who's about to make a fantastic business deal.

    My mouth drops open. "...Uh, I guess?"

    This is so entirely out of nowhere I can't help but wonder whether Writer Me is exerting direct influence here.

    On the other hand… a nation drowning in debt, and thirty trillion dollars.

    While I doubt America would ever let California go in any normal situation, it is the breadbasket state after all, this isn't a normal situation. I'm a Clarketech alien who's shown myself to be irreverent in the extreme and random as hell at the best of times.

    "There'd be conditions," she warns me. "I can't imagine this happening unless you maintain close ties with us."

    I blink again, entirely out of my element. "I mean… yeah, okay, I guess. I'm… this is supposed to be a vacation," I almost whine.

    She grins triumphantly. "You're a ludicrously powerful alien and I'm Kate Lethbridge-Stewart," she fires back. "Playtime is over. Our world and my nation need your help."

    I lean back in my own chair, grunting. "Fair." I lock eyes with her and am once more on my conversational feet. "I guess I only have one more question for you then, Kate."

    She motions towards me genially, looking quite pleased with herself. She even lifts her so far untouched cup of tea to her lips to take a sip.

    I have a feeling I'm gonna like working with this woman. She keeps giving me perfect opportunities.

    "What do you want your sixty trillion dollars in?"

    Tea sprays over the Resolute Desk.

    Kate sets her teacup down on her now ruined presidential papers and glares at me.

    I just grin back innocently.

    Worth. It.
     
  26. Rakan

    Rakan Not too sore, are you?

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    What's the point of having ludicrous amounts of power if you can't troll with it? Truly, the Zelrech conundrum.
     
  27. JammyASDFG

    JammyASDFG Getting out there.

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    It took me way too long to recognise Doctor Who, I now feel ashamed to call myself British, although the writers of the most recent series should feel pretty ashamed too.
    I did sit there after reading the first line just trying to remember where I recognised the name from for about 5 minutes, I only managed to get it after seeing the bit about UNIT.

    Great and entertaining chapter as always though.
     
  28. kingtaso01

    kingtaso01 Not too sore, are you?

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    This is the most interesting way I've read in any story of how to deal with the US Debt,
     
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  29. ThedudeManBro

    ThedudeManBro The Dudeliest Man on the block, Bro!

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    ...I want to forcefeed your teeth just for that.
    Nothing against you or anything, but i am at a stage that everytime i see the illustrious Wizard Marshall reduced to what amounts to Multiverse Rainbow Magical Q, i feel like somebody shat on my cereal.

    Fuck the asshole that started the whole fanon Troll!Zel bullshit.
     
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  30. adaw

    adaw furry dweeb

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    At least you're gracious enough to explain your anger. Too many people simply say "This is awful because of this!" and don't explain their personal feelings over the subject.
     
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