This article is part of the Mr. Stormbeard series.
On the occasion of the Super Bowl, I invited several friends over to watch the game with me. The missus prepared a great many snacks, and I was eager and excited to host my colleagues and give them a great Super Bowl experience. Shortly after the game began, we were distracted by a terrible noise coming from outside. When I investigated, I noticed a raging blizzard was bearing down on Mr. Stormbeard's property. My yard and every other nearby yard were under sunny skies and mild temperatures. Yet somehow, Mr. Stormbeard was enduring the worst winter storm I've ever seen. Naturally, he was up on his roof screaming and yelling and attempting to fight off the storm by raising his staff to the sky in defiance.
"Hey!" I yelled to him. "Keep it down! We're watching the Super Bowl over here."
"Not now," he yelled back. "Not ever!" As he yelled, bolts of lightning began striking all about his yard. I ran back inside to avoid getting hit. One of those wayward bolts ended up knocking out my satellite dish. Long story short, my Super Bowl party was ruined. Great timing, especially considering his little snowstorm was over with 3 hours later and his yard was back to being a sun-soaked jungle. If he's going to try to fight the weather, I can't have my property getting zapped as collateral damage. Now I know there's nothing in the charter about manipulating the weather, but maybe there should be?
Another glaring problem is his propensity to agitate the skeleton hoards. On the 12th of February, an army of skeletons laid siege to his house, attempting to draw him out for some sort of confrontation. The problem here was that this skeleton army was so big that they spilled into my yard and into the streets. Worst of all, they had the audacity to park a catapult in front of my driveway. It took me nearly fifteen minutes of arguing with low level skeleton soldiers before I was able to get an audience with a gentleman who identified himself as "Bone Master Ur'Q." He apologized for the disorganization and had his minions move the catapult out of the way of my driveway. I thanked him for taking care of the situation but told him this was not the place for a siege. He agreed to review a copy of our neighborhood charter and fax it to his dark master to avoid future problems. I believe Mr. Ur'Q was sincere and I place the blame for this incident squarely on Mr. Stormbeard.
This unnecessary disruption resulted in me arriving to work twenty minutes late. Not only have I always honored our ban on curbside parking, I have never kept my vehicle anyplace but my garage while home except for brief periods on the weekends when I wash it in the driveway. If Mr. Stormbeard is going to invite or incite large mobs of the angry dead to form in our streets, the least he could do is get them to respect the curbside parking ban and not to block driveway entrances.
I also draw attention to the rule that prohibits operating a home business. While I cannot prove that Mr. Stormbeard is doing just that, it is clear he is working from home. As to the nature of his work, I can only guess. What I can surmise is that whatever his line of work is, it is strange and unnatural. From the constant glow emanating from his windows, I would wager that he does something related to video editing or computers. If the sordid characters and beasts that frequent his yard are any indication, it is certainly not a reputable business. I would not be surprised if he is operating some sort of adult website. Someone told me he sells elixirs and potions on eBay, but I don't know about that.
I can cite countless other examples of odd and needlessly disruptive theatrics on the part of Mr. Stormbeard. For example, the time his yard was plunged into darkness for a solid week after a Fallen Druid stole the sunlight from his property and spread it around the four corners of the globe, the time a wall of fire surrounding his property burned for three days, and the time his house lifted up off its foundation and floated for several hours. I must also mention that he frequently burns garbage in his backyard, in clear violation of rules. I have also heard his mailbox contains a vortex that very nearly tore the hand off a mailman.
From these examples it is clear to me that Mr. Stormbeard is an unruly element in our community, and one that must be exorcised. In spite of my warnings his raucous behavior and callous disregard for rules has continued unabated. In the past the neighborhood association has been fair and steadfast in handing out disciplinary action. On this occasion, you members have been remarkably lenient and tolerant. A fellow neighbor who is also frustrated claims he heard Mr. Stormbeard say he shielded his yard from your eyes with a magical spell. If that is the case, I ask that you follow up on my complaints and investigate further. A closer inspection should reveal the truth once and for all.
Thank you for your time. I trust that you will join me in making Shady Vale beautiful again.
It's time to get a new TV. Your old one was made like two years ago, and so much has changed. You might as well be looking at a dinosaur's butthole. Why would you keep doing that, when you could be looking at a robot's butthole?
This libtard terminator keeps asking for guns that don't exist and I may have to close early out of frustration.
My game is funded. Now I know everything.
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The Something Awful front page news tackles anything both off and on the Internet. Mostly "on" though, as we're all incredible nerds.
The harrowing saga of the Shady Vale community is brought to light by one concerned resident, bravely standing against the villainous wizard and all-around bad neighbor Mr. Stormbeard.