It all started when someone started asking about rare jewels...
I have never been to the Plane of Fear before, but this didn't stop me from responding.
I ooc'ed the information about how/where I got the jewel and I mentioned that the thing I soloed in PoF was red to me and said it was level 62, which is so ungodly high that any amount of level 50 players would not be able to kill it because they could not hit a creature 12 levels higher then themselves (let alone SOLO one).
But nevertheless I still got a response from someone...
Note: I also did a /who on my self so show that I am a level 22 Necromancer, not in anon mode, and anyone could find out this information.
If one person responding wasn't hard enough to believe, I got another response! I decided to only work with one so I picked the second, a person named "Amist"
Note: Someone ooc'ed saying that I was only level 22 and it would be impossible for me to go to PoF, but that didn't seem to deter the idiots from getting their "rare jewel".
This is where I decided I would let go and say stuff that I thought nobody would believe... well, stuff that nobody with half a brain would believe, because she still asked me if I was selling one.
She actually agreed to buy one of my "Rare PoF Winged Hill Giant Jewels".
Sometimes I dream that I'm sitting in the back of the defunct Weinermobile as it careens driverless down the highway. At first I thought this was symbolic of the powerlessness I feel in life, but then I realized it's actually the Weinermobile's dream of being able to drive again.
Three years ago, when we were burying my uncle, Cleaver and some gross lady dog (Solstice???) showed up at the cemetery and starting going at it really loudly. It ruined everything and we had to have a "re-do" the next day and it cost a fortune. I've hated him ever since for that.
Ignore the hype. Find out how these games will likely go right or wrong.
A comical look at the world of Everquest.