Growing Weakness, The

The Growing Weakness

 -- by Ginness

Ginness woke up this morning feeling a bit weaker than he had the morning before, which he considered quite problematic, as he had been experiencing this same phenomenon for the past week or so. He scratched at his beard and wondered how long he could continue like this before he would no longer have even the strength to step out of bed. He farted, scratched himself a bit more, and decided to go see a doctor.

Now, the closest thing to a doctor he had ever come across was a priest, and the best priest he knew was a foul-mouthed and ill-tempered night elf named Idyllenstorm. Just thinking about trying to get any help from that ornery old elf made his temples throb a bit, but he was growing desperate.

Idyllenstorm lives in a cave on top of a mountain surrounded by steep cliffs and a moat filled with sharks, alligators and bears. The only path leading up to the cave has a sign that reads "Get the %@#% off my goddamn mountain you douchebag or I will melt your stupid face off." Ginness was undeterred by this sign, as of course, he felt its message was not directed to him, but to everyone else.

After an arduous journey up the path, with frequent stops to catch his breath and scratch himself, Ginness stumbled upon the old elf's cave. As he peered inside, Idyllenstorm was about to wrap his lips around a huge mutton, lettuce and tomato sandwich, dripping with Darnassian mayonnaise. Their eyes met and Idyllenstorm dropped his sandwich in a fit of rage.

"Can't you read you glorified boulder?" he shouted with an obvious reference to the dwarf's Earthen ancestors (which totally flew over Ginness' head, as he had never gone to Uldaman).

"Look Storm ... I know you hate getting visitors, but I am desperate here. I need your help!" Storm noticed that there was indeed desperation in Ginness' eyes, or perhaps crumbs from last night's dinner. "For the past week or so ... I don't know, I guess since a little after midnight last Monday ... I feel like I have been getting weaker every morning! It's either that, or everything around me is getting stronger ... I can't really tell! I'm all kinds of discombobulated here, my armor is getting rusty, and for the love of cream stout MY CRIT PERCENTAGE IS GOING DOWN!"

The elf stared at the dwarf, now on his knees before him and sobbing. As if filled with the grace of Elune or whatever that elf godess is called, he placed a hand on the dwarf's shoulder.

"Ginness my old friend, I have one thing to say to you."

Ginness' eyes brightened with anticipation. "Oh I just knew you would help me! You are truly a great friend!"

"Oh yeah ... this'll help. You ready?"

"Absolutely!"

"Okay ... here it is: Q %$@%ing Q you pathetic noob! Now get the %@#% off my mountain before I put an SW:D on you and show you the true meaning of pain and weakness!!!"

In all the history of little people running, no stubby legs ever moved faster than those of Ginness as he raced off the mountain to face his problems alone.