Post by Los Pollos™ on Nov 14, 2015 9:56:05 GMT
Dear Captain’s log,
I write in you today with a TrES-4b sized sadness in my infundibulum. Ever since that Scramble match, it has felt like a sulfuric-acid-rain storm has been orbiting my being.
That day I was utterly and completely humiliated. By monkey descendants of all things!
They alien-handled and dominated me. And seeing a damn dirty ape not only wield my ray gun like it wasn’t the most technologically advanced weapon this side of Kepler-32, but also use it to steal the championship from right under my vomeronasal organ? It was a dark moment for the Intergalactic Conqueror indeed.
I picked myself back up and tried moving on as best as I could. But I was never able to be myself again. I faced off against a human who’s even more ape-descendant than a regular one, and I can lie to myself all that I want, but I know that I only won that match because I accidentally turned him into a piece of bread.
Now I am set to do battle with that stupid monkey who not only stole my ray gun and my championship, but also my dignity. Is it an opportunity to get revenge? An opportunity to win back the championship? Or is it just another opportunity for old Zargnax to be laughed at by apes?
When did conquering alien planets and enslaving their inhabitants so complicated? I don’t know if I have it in me anymore.
It used to be so fun, you know? I remember as a larva, how I would sit in my vacuum chamber, listening to my favorite radio wave programs on Sagittarius A* about fearless space captains traveling to distant planets, discovering exotic alien species, exploring the corners of the multiverse and most importantly destroying civilizations with giant laser death rays. I didn’t realize how much different it actually was.
Maybe I should just quit? Hang up my exo-suit and move to a nice little beach house on GJ 1214b. Or just leave everything behind and hitchhike across Andromeda. There’s so much to do and so much to see out there, why am I even doing this? Is it just an attempt to live up to my father’s expectations of me? I didn’t even know the guy; mom ate him while I was still a tadpole.
So what is it then? Why am I still doing this after failure after failure? Am I insane? Am I still subconsciously holding on to an unobtainable larvahood fantasy? Or is it just the fact that this is all I know?
THAT’S IT!
‘All I know!’ This is all I know! I can’t quit, because I don’t know how to do anything else! I have to keep doing this no matter how defeated I feel, no matter how big the lump in my papulaic exocrine gland gets!
I will walk into that battle against that primitive primate and I will do not what I do best, but all I know how to do:
CONQUER
I write in you today with a TrES-4b sized sadness in my infundibulum. Ever since that Scramble match, it has felt like a sulfuric-acid-rain storm has been orbiting my being.
That day I was utterly and completely humiliated. By monkey descendants of all things!
They alien-handled and dominated me. And seeing a damn dirty ape not only wield my ray gun like it wasn’t the most technologically advanced weapon this side of Kepler-32, but also use it to steal the championship from right under my vomeronasal organ? It was a dark moment for the Intergalactic Conqueror indeed.
I picked myself back up and tried moving on as best as I could. But I was never able to be myself again. I faced off against a human who’s even more ape-descendant than a regular one, and I can lie to myself all that I want, but I know that I only won that match because I accidentally turned him into a piece of bread.
Now I am set to do battle with that stupid monkey who not only stole my ray gun and my championship, but also my dignity. Is it an opportunity to get revenge? An opportunity to win back the championship? Or is it just another opportunity for old Zargnax to be laughed at by apes?
When did conquering alien planets and enslaving their inhabitants so complicated? I don’t know if I have it in me anymore.
It used to be so fun, you know? I remember as a larva, how I would sit in my vacuum chamber, listening to my favorite radio wave programs on Sagittarius A* about fearless space captains traveling to distant planets, discovering exotic alien species, exploring the corners of the multiverse and most importantly destroying civilizations with giant laser death rays. I didn’t realize how much different it actually was.
Maybe I should just quit? Hang up my exo-suit and move to a nice little beach house on GJ 1214b. Or just leave everything behind and hitchhike across Andromeda. There’s so much to do and so much to see out there, why am I even doing this? Is it just an attempt to live up to my father’s expectations of me? I didn’t even know the guy; mom ate him while I was still a tadpole.
So what is it then? Why am I still doing this after failure after failure? Am I insane? Am I still subconsciously holding on to an unobtainable larvahood fantasy? Or is it just the fact that this is all I know?
THAT’S IT!
‘All I know!’ This is all I know! I can’t quit, because I don’t know how to do anything else! I have to keep doing this no matter how defeated I feel, no matter how big the lump in my papulaic exocrine gland gets!
I will walk into that battle against that primitive primate and I will do not what I do best, but all I know how to do:
CONQUER