For Me Eyes Only?

So, if is fer me eyes only, ya think maybe ya shouldn't've posted it on the fluggernubbin' bulletin board in the middle of the blupperdubbin' garrison?

I's thinkin' what me an' Shadow Hunter Rokhan is gonna have ta have a lil' chat about mission security....

Is Where Beetle Has A Dubious

Young Beetle, pink ponytailed tough-as-nails bundle of rage, was talkin' with Beatface the Gladiator. She done believed him when he said they was gonna kill Slavemaster Ok'mok. She done believed him when he said he knew cruelty. She even done believed him when he said Slavemaster Ok'mok was cruelty.

But when he said he was once her size?

Yeah, that one she had a little trouble swallowifyin'.

Me An' Soulbinder Tuulani? Kindred Spirits?

Nice kid an' all, but we's kindred spirits? Us? I mean, yeah, we's good at slaughterin' demons an' cultists tagethers, but I ain't exactlies no church-goin' holy roller.

On the other hand, mebbe I's wrong about the kid. Mebbe she likes kickin' back with a cold bottle of Uncle Bonechomper's Day Old Piss, playin' a few rounds of Throw the Peon's Head Through the Hoop, bathin' once a week (whether ya needs it or not), an' doin' all the Naughty Touchin'. Guess we's gonna find out - it'll be great!

He'll Be In His Bunk

Is just as well what he didn't asks me fer ta be his sidekick on this next .... mission.

Bad News, Pokhar

When Ol' Ratters is comin' fer ya, ain't enough axes in the world fer ta save yer country bumpkin' arse. Not eight, not thirteen, not a million.

Still Feisty

Lucy Brokerblast don't take no crap from the walking dead, neithers.

A Reading From The Classics

"When he opened his eyes, the was something in the bed of dead flowers. He blinked. It seemed to be a cross of white-painted wood; some had fitted the sleeves of an ancient naval tunic over the arms, a kind of mold-spotted tailcoat with heavy fringed epaulets of tarnished gold braid, rusting buttons, more fringe at the cuffs ... A rusted cutlass was propped, hilt up, against the white upright, and beside it was a bottle half filled with clear liquid.

"'My name,' said a voice, and Bobby wanted to scream when he realized it was coming from his own mouth, 'is Samedi, and you have slain my cousin's horse...'

"And Virek was running, the big coat flapping out behind him, down the curving path with its serpentine benches, and Bobby saw that another of the white crosses waited there, just where the path curved to vanish. Then Virek must have seen it too; he screamed, and Baron Samedi, Lord of Graveyards, the loa whose kingdom was death, leaned in across Barcelona like a cold dark rain."

My name is Ratshag, and today I will introduce the Warsong Clan of Draenor to Baron Fluggernuggin' Samedi.

One Fer The Ladies

Young Galertruby has always done felt what Blizzard obsesses too much about showin' offs the female pulchritudinous fleshifications. But now what he's got hisself a robe what shows some skins, he feels is time fer ta flaunt what he gots. Pecs an' abs an' epycondyles an' whatnots.

Enjoy.

Short But Feisty

Yeah, the sergeant said absolutely nobodies comes inta the outpost withouts an authorization pass.

Yeah, yer wearin' full plate an' holdin' a razor-sharp sword.

Yeah, yer ten times as tall as she is an' about a thousand times as old.

But Lucy Brokerblast has a playdate with Isel fer ta play some rounds of Hearthstone, an' she ain't takin' none of yer crap.

An' you ain't sure you can stop her.

New Follower, Eh?

Me kid brother Gogmoth were in his garrison yesterday when a certain druid done walked in lookin' fer work. Turned out what he had an opening fer a celebrity artist what could kick arse, so he hired her on the spot an' put her ta work. Summoned up an imp with a set of colored pencils an' everything.

Now, any you buggers seen a fiery belfadin wanderin' around?

Is Where Kinnavieve Gets Loot

"That's quite the helmet ya gots there, Kinna"

"Mmmphrmff"

"Kinda hards fer ta hear ya without no mouth opening though."

"Mrrfmmlphrm"

"Tell me. How's can ya see where yer goin' an' not walk inta-"

*THUD*

"-doors an' things?"

"Mrmmrmlphrmmlmrph"

"Uh oh, looks like yer spikey tusky thingies done be stuck inta the doorframe there. Need some helps pullin'em out?"

"MMMPHRFF! Mmlphfrmmlmrff mrff mmmrmmff!"

"Ya, well, alrighty then."

Galertruby Versus The Garrison

Galertruby: Glahargl aggla gah.

Frostwall Peon #1: Something need doing?

Galertruby: Agglha hahgl. Agh glahhgl glahhgl garrh gahhlahr glahhr, ga gallhahl! *points*

Frostwall Peon #1: Over there? Okey dokey.

Galertruby: Glaglha gha, aggrahgl lahg gahhaglarh. Garrh glahaggl glha agghalarg agglahar ghaggl aglha. Agglh ahghlagla agh grrhal, gallha gra gahhllha gallraghl ahl lagglarh. *pantomimes picking things up and putting them down*

Frostwall Peon #1: All of them? Okay, commander.

Galertruby: Glhargal glah agglha arglhaglh, gahalg aggla gahrlagghl. Laggharlag agglha gah. Aglh aglha gallh gahll gahrrallah. Agrhh glagglha gha ghrallhalha ghagglha gaharrgh glha agglahg, agh argalagh gahhll garhh ahhghr glahh. *holds up three fingers*

Frostwall Peon #1: Sure, we can do that.

Galertruby: Aghahll garhhr glahhlglhaarhga ghallah allha, garrharlh agghal ga arhhh galahhargh. Glallh garrh, gahhlahglahhr agglh ahghlagl glagglha ga arhhh. *claps hands*

Frostwall Peon #1: You got it, boss. Work, work.

Galertruby: Glahagl ahg! *pats Peon #1 on the shoulder* *walks off*

Frostwall Peon #2: What did say say?

Frostwall Peon #1: Buggered if I know. Maybe he said we should take the rest of the day off?

Frostwall Peon #2: Yeah, that was probably it. I needed a nap anyway.

Knee High To A Glubbernuggin' Grasshopper

Seen a buncha old frenemies since I got me ta Draenor. But ain't none of them what surprisified me as much as this kid. Last time we'd seen each others, he were runnin' the Horde invasion of the Hellfire Peninsula, what don't exactlies exist no more. Yet. Whichevers.

He's a bit shorter now, but still tough as playin' Throw The Peon's Head Through The Hoop with yer bootlaces tied tagethers.

What Could Go Wrong?

So me an' Bony Xuk is killin' fluggernubbers up in Gogrond, when he comes ta me with a plan. Apparentlies he'd scored some primo whateverfuhg it is them Laughing Skulls score, an' it had done put him in touch with his dead ancestors.

"Xuk," I sez. "I like you an' all, man, but yer nuttier than one of them yellow packs of M&Ms. The big family size, ya know. So, thing is, is yer spirit dudes, what came up with this plan, as crazy as you?"

He laughed, an' rattled his bony armor. "Crazier, Ratters, crazier! Like crazy foxes!"

Oh, goody.

So of he scoots ta the edge of the cliff, and calls out ta Gro the Uncreator. Big as a mountain an' twice as dense.

Gro starts headin' over, sumthin' like curiosity except not really in his eye. Xuk done be gettin' all excitified-like, rattlin' his bones louder an' louder. "It's workin'! Is fuhggin' workin'!"

An' it kept right on workin' right up until it didn't no more.

Oops.

Afters, that crazy dead gubberdupper Xuk had hisself a conclusion on the whole operation.

Sanest thing the poor bugger ever said.

Ogrim Doomhammer Is Off His Meds

Seriouslies. In the space of like five quests, the fluggerbubber done went from "Yay! Burn the spacegoats! Burnin' be what what we fuhggin' do, bitches!"

to "No, not the spacegoats! We can't burn the cute widdle spacegoats!"

And what's with the crappy retro armor?

Someone wanna explanifies ta the dude what this ain't 2004 no more?