Hi! Do you know me?
I’m normally considered to be a Feral Druid fanboy, but I have been known to love my Beast Master Hunter almost as much.
When relaxing and just having fun, sometimes it’s a very close call.
The part about being a Hunter that I enjoy the most, of course, is having my very own pet.
Not a pet that was assigned to me by a dark overlord, a pet that I had no choice about. If some dark master hands me a slave and says, “This is it. You’re stuck with him. Deal.” Well. WELL now.
That ain’t a pet. That’s a servant. A slave. No real joy there. No companionship. No tender memories.
No, a pet is a friend that I am personally, emotionally vested in.
I chose my pet. I wanted my pet beside me through thick and thin.
I sought out my pet, and out of all the other potential pets in all the world, I chose YOU to stand by my side.
And I, of course, named you in my language. I don’t know what your name is in YOUR language, so I hope you don’t mind… but I put care and thought into a name, and I hope you like it. It brings me a smile, every time I think about all the journeys we have shared together over the years.
My friend Moonclaw has been with me for a long, long time.
Moonclaw, the Ghost Saber, is my dear friend. If you see me running around the world, looking for trouble, having fun, and kicking some butt while adventuring, my friend Moonclaw will be by my side.
But, sometimes, sometimes you need to make a point.
Sometimes, your best friend, the friend who is your companion and a part of your warmer side, just isn’t appropriate for what needs to be done.
Sometimes there is the friend you have by your side every day, that you count and rely on, and sometimes the job at hand is too dirty, nasty and vicious to involve such a treasured friend.
Take Dirty Harry Callahan, for example.
For years, he kept his .44 magnum revolver by his side. Big, mean, hard, it got the job done, reliably, and with just that extra emphasis that said, “I am totally serious about killing you right now. Nothing personal, but it’s time for you to die so I can pay attention to the next dirtbag scrote. Now stop breathing already.”
But in Sudden Impact, when his good friend was dead, killed after a brutal, bloody beating, and Dirty Harry was truly enraged? Pissed beyond measure and looking to get some very personal, very intense payback?
He laid his old friend aside for a time… and took out the .44 Automag.
He took out a special weapon that said to his foes, “Here is how much I hate you. I want to do more than just inflict justice on you. I intend to make you pay. To make you suffer, screaming in pain and terror, and let the white hot fury of my vengeance tear you apart. And I’m not going to soil my service weapon with this. I am going to use a tool that is so far beyond overkill that it leaves no room for doubt; I intend to see you pay. I intend to see you scream. I intend to see you beg, and then I intend to see you dead.”
Well, your pet is also your very close, personal friend.
And if you are filled with rage and hate, and intend to tear apart your enemies, intent on destroying them with an all consuming fury…
Well, you don’t want to bring your warm, close friend Moonclaw into something like that.
Oh, HELL no.
No, you want a pet that says, “I hate you. I really, really hate you. And this… THIS is what I choose to use to kill you with. My own, special, raging tool of infinite hatred and destruction. THIS is the engine that drives all that is evil and cruel, and which I will use to TEAR YOUR SOUL APART!”
Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you my tool of absolute hatred and destruction. My weapon of vengeance.
The dreaded AnnCoulter!
You know you are fearing my wrath already.
EDIT: Oh yeah, I forgot to add the punchline that I thought of this morning that made me lol in the first place.
“Don’t make me whip out AnnCoulter.”
‘Scuse me, while I whip this out.