And once again, the Imp blah blah blah, something something, flap flap and she's really bad and all that. Murder and rage, and I'm so unhappy with my life. My husband smells funny, he's got the personality of a brick and I'm so short I can't see over the pile of feces that grows every time I squeak.

Ahem. Sorry.

You're an idiot, Moirean. Once again, your ego knows no bounds - I left a little message as an insult to the Corrupt and another person entirely, and you respond to a perceived slight to your -city- with the might of your -Order-.

Flap flap, blah blah. Really important words, and all that.

We'll be fighting this one, Madam Chair.

-Rashar



Penned by my hand on the 25th of Slyphian, in the year 420 MA.