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Aaron Waite Aaron Waite
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Allegorically Speaking

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A legend from the dawn of the decade

Cobbled together from legends and stories that former Peons have told, this is the tale of but one serfdom in the kingdom of Obnoxious Game Place.

Once upon a time, there was a happy serfdom in the kingdom of Obnoxious Game Place. With high taxes and an oppressive army that stood watch over their vassals, it was rare to see such a happy little village in the Game Place domain. Through hard work and dedication, they carved out a life for themselves in the harsh political climate. While the serfs didn't have much to call their own, they had each other, and they supported each other the best they could to do the best they could in spite of their harsh conditions.

The village had a leader, known lovingly as the Prime. Prime had once been naught but a lowly Peon (as the younger serfs in the village were called) not too many years ago, but he had assumed the position when the last Prime had fallen from grace. He was a just and kind ruler, and the villagers loved him. He taught the Peons how to treat the traders that came in for their gaming needs, the ways to create a positive and happy environment for their customers, and how to sell their goods at the pace the oppressive government demanded. The serfs did their absolute best to support their Prime, and for many a year, their life was hard, but happy.

However, it was not to last.

The king of Obnoxious Game Place had become ever more greedy, and sent down a decree for more subscriptions to his royal magazine. He wanted everyone to read about his fictitious exploits that his propaganda department drew up for him. He demanded more sales of games to the traders. He sent out his vaunted Middle Management dragons to compel these poor Peons to work at the torrid pace he dictated. The Middle Management was a terrible force to be reckoned with, wielding the spells of Forcefeed Subscription, You Will Reserve A Game, and Push The Trade-In, the Middle Management would terrify the traders in the serfdoms, sometimes even driving out the very customers they claimed to be helping. They would stalk the Peons, frightening them to the point where they couldn't even work properly. They ranted and raved, forcing the will of the King of Obnoxious Game Place upon his subjects. No one would challenge their power.

Except the Prime.

Prime knew that these demands were unreasonable, and even though he was doing everything he could for his team, there was just no way that he and his Peons could keep up this pace. When the local Primes were called together by the Conference Call spell, although he knew the price for defiance, he spoke freely and openly about the oppression and the ruthless tactics of the Middle Management. The other Primes were shocked, as they knew only complete obedience, and operated as yes-men to the Middle Management. The dragons conferred amongst themselves, and decided that the only way there was to be peace in this serfdom was if the Prime was removed.

With all the vitriol they could summon, they unleashed the ancient weapons of Unrealistic Expectations and Threatening Job Security upon the Prime. Those loyal to him rallied to fight back the assault of the the Middle Management, and for awhile, it seemed as if they would prevail.

It was not to be. The Peons came back from celebrating Decemberween in a neighboring town to find their Prime gone, banished by the Middle Management. Heartbroken at the loss of their leader, one by one, they escaped to other kingdoms.

They did, however, receive a message from their Prime, one that spat in the face of all that Middle Management had hoped to achieve:

'I haven't stopped smiling.'

So if you travel to one of the serfdoms of Obnoxious Game Place, please understand that the Peons are just doing what they have to keep Middle Management's wary eyes away from them. Those subscriptions, those trade-ins, those reserves, they're all just trying to keep their place in the serfdom. Please understand they really do want to just want to help..

Aaron Waite has told his editor repeatedly that he needs a pony for further inspiration. No dice yet.


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