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Mr. Repose
The Warden

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The Library of Discontent

ATTN: UR CITE HZ BEN HACKED BY BEARS ON COCAINE!!!!!!

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Welcome to Bangoria

Bangoria… a land torn by strife and war.   Upon it’s shattered planes and rocky mountaintops the fires of battle burn like a bloody candlelight vigil for all the warriors who have fallen in the conflicts that sweep this ever changing land.  Warriors, mercinaries, assassins and even more unsavory types constantly sell their blades and sometimes their very souls to the highest bidder all in the name of profit and a chance at spoils.  Yet many also hope to change this world, make a difference for good but those guys are total pussies and we’re not going to talk about them.  Nay, we shall talk only of the legendary man and women who grace this theater of death.  Fir though the most well-known ones shall be revealed.

The most deadly and legendary warrior that roves this land is the mighty…. BEARMASTER.

The BEARMASTER skates into battle, on roller blades forged in the darkest mountain and infused with the blood of two liches, a red dragon, and a werebear.  The skates, as he rolls across the land, leave a perpetual bloody streak on the ground, to signify that the BEARMASTER has been there.  His weapons are two bears, that are attached to whips.  The bears are named Cuddles and Fuzzywuzzy.  In battle the BEARMASTER skates doing flips and turns while wiping his mighty whip bears into foes, causing them to suffer an instant mauling.

The BEARMASTER is a mysterious force, for he never seems to have any motive to these mauling attacks.  His glorious tanned body and loincloth (woven from the hair of powerful swamp hags that he killed because they were ugly) forming a blur of flesh toned death as he buzz saws his way across the various battlefields. His long uncut blonde hair wafting dramatically in the wind as his bears maul his foes.  Their blood splattering on his perfect white teeth that glisten brightly as he smiles enjoying the sheer carnage of war.  His loincloth bulging with a possible erection, he is truly at home on the battlefield.

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The World Is Not Enough

You know, recently I’ve been mulling over a scenario that would probably work out better for me than the rest of you.  That’s not to say that it would be entirely bad, well… depending of course as to what kind of person you are.  The scenario is, what would happen if I became, either through fortune or conquest, the next great dictator of the world?  So before I get a bit too dreamy eyed and start envisioning myself gloriously riding on tanks through the burning cities of those who dared, dared I say, to oppose my glorious vision for the future.   Before I start to get a twinkle in my eye at the thought of standing before kings and politicians who my soldiers are forcing to bow at my feet.  Before I get a raging boner thinking of the bountiful bosoms of the liberated womenfolk massaging my face like  soft doughy sacks of warm chest fruit.   I decided to put myself into a degree of perspective and run through my whole rein from glorious rise to inevitable fall, with advice I have received through the reading of Machiavelli, Sun Tzu, and Robert Greene  (Author of the recent book, The 48 Laws of Power).   Bearing in mind of course, that I won’t be following their advice at all.  So please, allow me to describe to you a majestic and gut wrenching (especially for enemy sympathizers and spies, but slightly more literal if you catch my drift) journey into a world where the next great dictator liberates you, The People, and brings an age of untold prosperity and atrocities unto all mankind.

 


The Chinese pople celebrating the rise of Reposism in the East.

 


Phase One:  The Planning

(Codename: Operation Chili Con Queso)


The codename is based on the fact that, due to budget constraints during the planning process, I will be forced to assemble my dark council at the local Taco Bell. 

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Jam Box

Consider This

What is the appropriate behavior for a man or a woman in the midst of this world, where each person is clinging to his piece of debris? What’s the proper salutation between people as they pass each other in this flood? — Buddha