Katrana
June 22nd, 2006, 04:51 AM
This was written by Khore, a long time ago (Jan 11th, 1997, when TFC had a mailing list!). And I think that every now and then we all should read it!! ::up::
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I, PKer
It has come to my attention that many of the varied denizens of TFC
believe that people who PK on the mud, are in fact, quite evil in RL.
Because I myself have at one time or another been a killer, I must
confess, (and I do so on behalf of all PKers) yes, I am damn evil.
I go to sleep every night counting sheep jumping over fences? into
slaughterhouses. I dream at night about such things as DEFCON 5
thermonuclear warfare, and sigh longingly at the thought that someday,
if fate is pleased with me, I could somehow be responsible. I awake,
refreshed and happy, believing that what I do is in some small way
bringing about the end of the world.
That pleasant thought blissfully growing malignantly in me, I hop out of
my bed, load my firearm, tuck it into my boxer shorts and walk groggily
towards the restroom. I clean myself up, shave myself with my trusty
switchblade and then strut out the door. I stand around for a couple of
minutes scratching myself until I feel that I have offended enough
people, walk inside, wear my "Death to "insert religion/political
alignment" T Shirt, and once again, go face this wonderful world.
Once outside, I step on as many pretty flowers as is convenient to step
on without deviating too far from my course, being especially careful
not to miss any. Then, I hurry towards my ultimate destination,
flashing obscene gestures to anyone who looks at me.
Once at the 7-11, I stake out my Slurpee fountain and sneak refills and
drinks while the guy working cashier turns away. After a couple hours
of this, I grow bored and leave, kicking in headlights and slashing
tires in the parking lot. I briefly consider holding up a bank, but
then realize that I should keep it down to only once every other day.
Instead, I wander towards the park with a BB gun and shoot a few ducks
swimming in the pond. While they flail, I laugh. A girl looks at me
disgusted. I shoot her a couple times then go back home, realizing that
it's time to PK a little.
I get home, put on my favorite records, play them backwards and listen
for orders. Once I receive these orders, I vow to fulfill them after
dark, but since there are a good many hours left, I log on.
The first thing I do is do a "who 1-5" then harass them for half an
hour. I tell them you get bread by slapping Slue repeatedly. I also
give precise directions to Midgaard baker to any non-human race, then
race to the gates and spell up the cityguards.
I pause at this point, noticing some passing boy scouts. I go upstairs,
and turn on my electromagnet, watch the orienteering scoutmaster look
carefully at his compass, then shrug, and lead the troop straight
towards the city attack dog training kennel. I grin, and notice a troop
of girl scouts selling cookies. I rush out, steal the cookies, eat one,
remark how terrible they are, then go back to my computer, just as I
notice someone in my range logging on.
I wait, jump him, and kill him. I munch on a few of the cookies. I
repeat this a few times, taking my skull and crossbones stamp and
marking up my "kill list". I make a mental note to tattoo Glen Danzig's
belt buckle to my stomach. I glance at my watch, and note that it's too
late to harass the nuns at the church.
Then, I notice one of my victims giving me tells. They tell me how
horrible and evil I am. They tell me I must be a hateful person in RL.
They proceed to call me all sorts of vulgar and obscene names. They
insult my ancestry and suggest painfully impossible anatomical acts I
can perform with various household items. I pause.
My feelings begin to get hurt. I think. I know regret. Oh? how evil I
am? I have killed someone. I have played a game and done something
within the rules? but? so? so? evil. I repent.
Quickly, I overcome this weakness, ignore the whiner, and tell him I'm
going to PK him every day he gets EQ. Then I tell him I will PK him in
RL if I ever meet him.
He shuts up. I log off. I sharpen my knife.
I get to thinking. Ya know? maybe some PKers out there just really
AREN'T evil in RL. The thought scares me. What horrible creatures
could appear to be otherwise normal and nice people in RL and then, when
brought to this, a game, where all people act in their true nature,
start to viscously murder people?? At least with me, you *expect* me to
PK on the mud, cause well ya know, I've done RL Pking on occasion.
I suddenly begin to know fear. Somewhere out there? there are good
decent people who play this game? and actually kill. Such deception
makes me shudder. How can anyone be so? deadly quiet? Who knows? maybe
that nice girl next door? or your best friend? is a closet PKer.
I am too scared to perform the duties as assigned by Judas Priest
playing backwards at precisely 35 rpm. I hop into bed and begin
counting sheep. Desperately trying to shake the feeling that? yes, some
PKers cannot be discerned from normal people. They might even be nice.
They might even be normal people. Dear lord? they might be? anyone.
*shudder*
I cry myself to sleep. Someone's gonna get to cause the end of the
world? and it might not be me.
Khore. Who... despite all, tries to be a nice guy in RL.
Well no... so don't make me RL PK you. Cause I will. Really. Grr.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
I, PKer
It has come to my attention that many of the varied denizens of TFC
believe that people who PK on the mud, are in fact, quite evil in RL.
Because I myself have at one time or another been a killer, I must
confess, (and I do so on behalf of all PKers) yes, I am damn evil.
I go to sleep every night counting sheep jumping over fences? into
slaughterhouses. I dream at night about such things as DEFCON 5
thermonuclear warfare, and sigh longingly at the thought that someday,
if fate is pleased with me, I could somehow be responsible. I awake,
refreshed and happy, believing that what I do is in some small way
bringing about the end of the world.
That pleasant thought blissfully growing malignantly in me, I hop out of
my bed, load my firearm, tuck it into my boxer shorts and walk groggily
towards the restroom. I clean myself up, shave myself with my trusty
switchblade and then strut out the door. I stand around for a couple of
minutes scratching myself until I feel that I have offended enough
people, walk inside, wear my "Death to "insert religion/political
alignment" T Shirt, and once again, go face this wonderful world.
Once outside, I step on as many pretty flowers as is convenient to step
on without deviating too far from my course, being especially careful
not to miss any. Then, I hurry towards my ultimate destination,
flashing obscene gestures to anyone who looks at me.
Once at the 7-11, I stake out my Slurpee fountain and sneak refills and
drinks while the guy working cashier turns away. After a couple hours
of this, I grow bored and leave, kicking in headlights and slashing
tires in the parking lot. I briefly consider holding up a bank, but
then realize that I should keep it down to only once every other day.
Instead, I wander towards the park with a BB gun and shoot a few ducks
swimming in the pond. While they flail, I laugh. A girl looks at me
disgusted. I shoot her a couple times then go back home, realizing that
it's time to PK a little.
I get home, put on my favorite records, play them backwards and listen
for orders. Once I receive these orders, I vow to fulfill them after
dark, but since there are a good many hours left, I log on.
The first thing I do is do a "who 1-5" then harass them for half an
hour. I tell them you get bread by slapping Slue repeatedly. I also
give precise directions to Midgaard baker to any non-human race, then
race to the gates and spell up the cityguards.
I pause at this point, noticing some passing boy scouts. I go upstairs,
and turn on my electromagnet, watch the orienteering scoutmaster look
carefully at his compass, then shrug, and lead the troop straight
towards the city attack dog training kennel. I grin, and notice a troop
of girl scouts selling cookies. I rush out, steal the cookies, eat one,
remark how terrible they are, then go back to my computer, just as I
notice someone in my range logging on.
I wait, jump him, and kill him. I munch on a few of the cookies. I
repeat this a few times, taking my skull and crossbones stamp and
marking up my "kill list". I make a mental note to tattoo Glen Danzig's
belt buckle to my stomach. I glance at my watch, and note that it's too
late to harass the nuns at the church.
Then, I notice one of my victims giving me tells. They tell me how
horrible and evil I am. They tell me I must be a hateful person in RL.
They proceed to call me all sorts of vulgar and obscene names. They
insult my ancestry and suggest painfully impossible anatomical acts I
can perform with various household items. I pause.
My feelings begin to get hurt. I think. I know regret. Oh? how evil I
am? I have killed someone. I have played a game and done something
within the rules? but? so? so? evil. I repent.
Quickly, I overcome this weakness, ignore the whiner, and tell him I'm
going to PK him every day he gets EQ. Then I tell him I will PK him in
RL if I ever meet him.
He shuts up. I log off. I sharpen my knife.
I get to thinking. Ya know? maybe some PKers out there just really
AREN'T evil in RL. The thought scares me. What horrible creatures
could appear to be otherwise normal and nice people in RL and then, when
brought to this, a game, where all people act in their true nature,
start to viscously murder people?? At least with me, you *expect* me to
PK on the mud, cause well ya know, I've done RL Pking on occasion.
I suddenly begin to know fear. Somewhere out there? there are good
decent people who play this game? and actually kill. Such deception
makes me shudder. How can anyone be so? deadly quiet? Who knows? maybe
that nice girl next door? or your best friend? is a closet PKer.
I am too scared to perform the duties as assigned by Judas Priest
playing backwards at precisely 35 rpm. I hop into bed and begin
counting sheep. Desperately trying to shake the feeling that? yes, some
PKers cannot be discerned from normal people. They might even be nice.
They might even be normal people. Dear lord? they might be? anyone.
*shudder*
I cry myself to sleep. Someone's gonna get to cause the end of the
world? and it might not be me.
Khore. Who... despite all, tries to be a nice guy in RL.
Well no... so don't make me RL PK you. Cause I will. Really. Grr.