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"where's my pants?!"
the loveable rat...
Member Posts: 969 ✭✭✭✭
a babbling mob at your door has awakened you...you were always a light sleeper. awake you see what the fuss is about...outside, a gathering of locals has come to the "white hunter" for your services. you deftly part the waves of humanity and their clouds of lingua to arrive at the scene of the crime...there beneath the barroom window a black wet patch is all that remains of a bannana-beer drunk whom, you surmise, was carried off by a maneater. your gunbearer appears, like magic, carrying 3 things- your rifle, your flask, and your blu-blockerTM sunglasses. "thank god," you murmmer and belt back a good one from the flask...as your gun bearer polishes the dew form your glasses, faraway screams of the unfortunate drunk pierce the now-morning air. he says in his inimitable accent, "good- he's still alive, that means a good bloodspoor trail to follow, bwana..." as you return to the hut to put your pants on and gather your lion kit, you thank your lucky stars to have such a talented and knowledgeable gunbearer- that you can pay in cigarettes unsuitable for a russian, no less...my question is this: if you have to pick a gunbearer from this site who would it be? my choice would be 218(to get really use them bees at last) and aglore(whom seems to know bout big rifles/big game and would avenge me+ 218's death, if he felt like it...) inspired by capstick's "death in the long grass"
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Those who beat their swords into plowshares will plow for those who dont.
Though I was born to royalty, I was snatched at birth, so treat me as the noble I am!!!