SinSynn couldn't make it here today.
That's right, suckas....
'Pink isn't well, he's back at the hotel.'
Instead, you'll be dealing with me.
....the hamster in his head.
And yes, I totally just hit you with a Pink Floyd reference.
*Let's party...Bizarro style*Y'know what, people?
I've been living in this idiot's skull a long time, spinning endlessly on the wheel that powers his thought processes.
Without me, he'd still be trying to jam that round peg into square holes (no, I don't need to 'rephrase' that statement...ponder that, if you dare).
While I'm sure you've all found his antics...amusing, let me set something straight right now....
I am the brains of this operation, and it's a horrible, horrible job of work to do.
Seriously, left to his own devices, SinSynn would probably spend his days happily drooling on his laminated Megan Fox glossy and touching himself in an impure manner.
Occasionally, he might reach a level of coherence which would allow him to acknowledge the doctors attending him, whom he would regale with tall tales of Jes Goodwin swooping into the GW offices, slaying Tom Kirby and whooshing away with Phil Kelly to write a new Eldar Codex.
Trust me, if the sedatives haven't kicked in by that point, it tends to get weird...and a little freaky.
*Like this, but with pointy helmets. And no, I'm not rephrasing that either. Deal with it.*Oh sure, it's all fun and games and tentacle hentai until someone pokes an eye out, isn't it?
Then the theme music from 'Psycho' starts playing , and before you know it the walls are covered in crudely drawn images of Mat Ward being sodomized by Kaldor Draigo.
Mat Ward is smiling in every one.
So is Draigo.
It gets...dark in his head sometimes...especially where THEY'RE concerned.
You know what I'm talking about, I'm sure you've seen him froth at the mouth at the mere mention of THEM.
...The Space Marines.
*sigh*
Look, I don't know what his problem is, really.
What's so bad about Space Marines?
What? They're....good? They're...winners? What?
They have actual...rockin' codexes, codeci, whatever the heck the plural version of that word is?
Yeah, here's something you've never heard anyone say about a Marine Codex:
'It's fun and balanced, a real finesse army that requires actual skill to use. Nothing in the book is OP- there's no stand out choices that scream 'take me.' Instead, careful selection is required to build a force with synergy. You can't just bludgeon your opponent on the head with this army.'
That's the battlecry of what I like to call 'Xenos Apologists.'
AKA 'losers' and 'also rans.'
This is the nonsense they spew when they get all defensive and prickly while plucking models off the table by the dozen.
Necron players are rehearsing that speech right now, at this very moment.
*I should probably just check boxes off as I go, yes?*
Is that not totally friggin' epic? How cool is this guy? He doesn't need 'Entropic Strike,' or 'Night Shields,' or any sort of gypsy tricks to kick your butt.
No, sir...he's just gonna stomp right up, and disembowel your sorry ass.
He doesn't even need a gun, for crying out loud.
In the far-distant future, when strange alien beings blast the battlefields with hot laser DEATH, this badass strolls right through it and whacks things with a sword.
Now let's take a look at...the other guys:
Since I live in SinSynn's head, let me tell you what he goes through every time a new Xenos Codex is released:
DENIAL: 'It's got enough anti-tank...'
ANGER: 'Why are Chimeras so fuckin' cheap?'
BARGAINING: 'Dear GW, you ret-conned the Black Templars and Dark Angels, so....'
DEPRESSION: 'How many Psyflemen is that? Awwwww.....'
ACCEPTANCE: 'The FAQ comes out today'
After hitting the final stage, he usually hides underneath his blankie and mutters about 6th Edition 'making the bad men go away.'
....THIS is what I have to deal with, every time.
I have no idea why he doesn't just...play Marines.
I mean really, what the heck is wrong with Marines?
Every friggin' Black Library book he reads is about Space Marines, pretty much, and the ones that aren't usually involve Guardsman from some planet with funky trees.
On some level, I know he loves Space Marines- he's practically admitted it a bunch of times.
I don't wanna mention the Imperial Guard too much, due to that one indecent.
He lost a good friend, but I never knew Hospitals kept Proctologists on call in the emergency room, so I think we all learned something that night.
I'll never look at a Basilisk the same way again, however.
*shiver*
Here, take a look at this:
DENIAL: 'It's got enough anti-tank...'
ANGER: 'Why are Chimeras so fuckin' cheap?'
BARGAINING: 'Dear GW, you ret-conned the Black Templars and Dark Angels, so....'
DEPRESSION: 'How many Psyflemen is that? Awwwww.....'
ACCEPTANCE: 'The FAQ comes out today'
After hitting the final stage, he usually hides underneath his blankie and mutters about 6th Edition 'making the bad men go away.'
....THIS is what I have to deal with, every time.
I have no idea why he doesn't just...play Marines.
I mean really, what the heck is wrong with Marines?
Every friggin' Black Library book he reads is about Space Marines, pretty much, and the ones that aren't usually involve Guardsman from some planet with funky trees.
On some level, I know he loves Space Marines- he's practically admitted it a bunch of times.
I don't wanna mention the Imperial Guard too much, due to that one indecent.
He lost a good friend, but I never knew Hospitals kept Proctologists on call in the emergency room, so I think we all learned something that night.
I'll never look at a Basilisk the same way again, however.
*shiver*
Here, take a look at this:
*Gauss weaponry is no match for...this sword*
Is that not totally friggin' epic? How cool is this guy? He doesn't need 'Entropic Strike,' or 'Night Shields,' or any sort of gypsy tricks to kick your butt.
No, sir...he's just gonna stomp right up, and disembowel your sorry ass.
He doesn't even need a gun, for crying out loud.
In the far-distant future, when strange alien beings blast the battlefields with hot laser DEATH, this badass strolls right through it and whacks things with a sword.
Now let's take a look at...the other guys:
*Currently performing in the new production of 'A Chorus Line'*
He comes equipped with a 'Holo Suit and Flip Belt.'
He's 'Fleet of Foot,' and his special ability is titled ....'Dance of Death.'
Oh, and he's totally a Pisces, and enjoys long, moonlit walks on the beach.
Don't get it twisted, in the right circumstances, this guy and his friends might cut through a bare handful of Marines, with something aptly named a 'Harlequin's Kiss.'
I'm fairly sure it's an oral-based attack of some sort.
Then they die to Bolter fire, or massed Lasguns, or...friggin' slingshots.
Look, I've got one word for you:
Power Armor.
Oh, wait...that's two words... well, whatever.
I'm a friggin' hamster, ok?
DON'T YOU JUDGE ME!
Yeah, I said it...but he totally stole that from me, so nyah.
Sure, Space Marine vehicles may look like they were carved from bricks (but somehow they fly? Wait, what? How is that even...), and their shoulder pads may be bigger than the ones the Artist Formerly Known as Prince used to wear to fool people into thinking she was a man, but whatevs, right?
Space Marines are so friggin' tough, their open topped vehicles don't count as open topped, cuz there' Space Marines in 'em...
They're so tough, they don't need helmets...they only wear 'em sometimes cuz they look cool.
They totally bring knives to gunfights.
You've gotta escort these bastards off the table if they actually fail a morale check, cuz if you don't, they'll turn right around and start hackin' shit up again.
And that was your fault for rolling bad, loser...Space Marines know no fear, and any fail is completely on you, weakling.
...what's not to love here?
GO SPACE MARINES! PURGE THE XENOS!
Heh...that felt good...
Ooh! Here's one I always wanted to say:
FOR THE EMPEROR!
Until next time, everyone- THINK IMPERIAL.
;)
-The Hamster (in SinSynn's head)
He comes equipped with a 'Holo Suit and Flip Belt.'
He's 'Fleet of Foot,' and his special ability is titled ....'Dance of Death.'
Oh, and he's totally a Pisces, and enjoys long, moonlit walks on the beach.
Don't get it twisted, in the right circumstances, this guy and his friends might cut through a bare handful of Marines, with something aptly named a 'Harlequin's Kiss.'
I'm fairly sure it's an oral-based attack of some sort.
Then they die to Bolter fire, or massed Lasguns, or...friggin' slingshots.
Look, I've got one word for you:
Power Armor.
Oh, wait...that's two words... well, whatever.
I'm a friggin' hamster, ok?
DON'T YOU JUDGE ME!
Yeah, I said it...but he totally stole that from me, so nyah.
Sure, Space Marine vehicles may look like they were carved from bricks (but somehow they fly? Wait, what? How is that even...), and their shoulder pads may be bigger than the ones the Artist Formerly Known as Prince used to wear to fool people into thinking she was a man, but whatevs, right?
Space Marines are so friggin' tough, their open topped vehicles don't count as open topped, cuz there' Space Marines in 'em...
They're so tough, they don't need helmets...they only wear 'em sometimes cuz they look cool.
They totally bring knives to gunfights.
You've gotta escort these bastards off the table if they actually fail a morale check, cuz if you don't, they'll turn right around and start hackin' shit up again.
And that was your fault for rolling bad, loser...Space Marines know no fear, and any fail is completely on you, weakling.
...what's not to love here?
GO SPACE MARINES! PURGE THE XENOS!
Heh...that felt good...
Ooh! Here's one I always wanted to say:
FOR THE EMPEROR!
Until next time, everyone- THINK IMPERIAL.
;)
-The Hamster (in SinSynn's head)
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