Thursday, December 11, 2008

Well, Thanks Kitty

So I's gettin ready last night fer me date with the Tuskarr Wimmens Cliff-Diving Champion when Kinnavieve comes running into the Team Ratshag HQ with her face in her hands. Right past me, into the bedroom, and slams the door. The bedroom. The only bedroom. And I got a big date coming up. This is not good.

I look at Danger Mouse, who's sitting in the corner not-reading a book with her no eyes. She gives me a non-look that says "you're the boss. You deal with it." Hunnh.

"Uh, Kinn?" I says to the door. "You all right?"

"No! I hate him!" comes a muffled reply.

"Hate who?"

"Stupid stinky dwarf."

"Um, yeah, they is. Which one in particular?"

"Stupid stinky spirit beast."

"Oh, that one. What he do?"

"He said I should be on And he told everybody! He said I went out of my way to get the ugliest armor and the ugliest helmets and the ugliest everything. It's not my fault I never got a chance to get Lightbringer Armor!"

"That's right! And I think you should get up off of that bed and go tell him so. Like in the next (/check watch) 10 minutes."

"Stupid stinky 30-year-old-virgin horndog armor designers."

"Yes! And you should get up right now and go give them fluggernubbers a piece of your mind! Or a piece of your mace! Piece of anything."

"Stupid stinky Murkblood Avengers."

And so it went. I hadda cancel my date with the Tuskarr Wimmens Cliff-Diving Champion; well, postpone it, technically, but now that bugger Maerrakech gonna get a chance ta make his movifications on her first. Ah, well, plenty of other large marine mammals in the sea. Anywho, I eventually coaxed her out with the combined temptation of undead trolls to smash up in ZD and some cookies Danger Mouse had just baked. Heard her mutter something about "gonna bubble-hearth on his ass" as she went tromping off in her very becoming armor.

And Kitty, since me evening plans got shot down by all that, next time we's bar-hopping and ya needs a wingman fer ta help make yer move on some tasty piece of nelf-flesh? Just summon up yer rhino.


Anonymous said...

No don't cry!!!

Poor Kinn!

I am sure he didn't mean it that way (sure as hell hope so...anyway) and I am sure he will send rain of flowers as an apology (upsetting a poor pally like isn't her fault the armor designers got bored and said, "oh hell, whatever throw some horns and fur on it, yeah yeah, black, brown and what ever mud color you can find)

It will be okay! Promise!

Anonymous said...

Why would you ever take anything BRK says seriously?

Khol Drake said...

Remember, Kinn, revenge is a dish best served several levels later. In this case, once you've reached your 80th season and have been so for a while (let time pass to lull the Kitty into a false sense of security, we all know his memory has the span of a suicidal fruitfly) invite him out somewhere to help you grind out some mobs. I recommend something like the Crimson Cathedral off the coast of Icecrown. Then, of course, just aggro every mob within a 5 mile radius, smile your most fetching, come-hither smile as you sweetly put up your bubble and happily hearth away.

Gauntlet said...

I don't know if Divine Intervention works on pets... but if it does, just wait for his Feign Death to be on Cooldown, and then pop that. He can't remove the bubble from his out-of-combat pet, and you're not in combat either (no extra repair bill for that).


Hydra said...

Oh hun. *gently pats Kinn*

No crying.

Men are stupid. We need to get together and kill something soon.

BRK said...


/fears for life


Cap'n John said...

It seems like Ratters really knows how to hurt BRK.

Step 1. Mention BRK and NElf Runs in the same sentence.

Step 2. Sit back & wait for Mrs. BRK to cut off BRK's nuptials.

Step 3. Cross legs in mock sympathy ;)