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A Customer Draws Near!

Didn't Star Wars End This Way?

"Forsooth, a customer draws nigh! With a lust for battle in your heart, you step forth prepared to engage her in combat to the death."

"...?"

"It's just something new I'm trying out."

"Oh. I ask the customer for her name."

"The customer ignores your request and immediately begins describing her problem. Apparently, her service has yet to be turned on and she demands to know why."

"Sucks to be her. I ask the customer for her name."

"The customer continues describing her problem, noting that she filled out the form required to activate her service, but the service has still yet to be activated. She wants to know why. You suffer 6 damage and a -2 penalty to your patience."

"Okay, I try casting Chance. Or whatever that D&D spell that does something random is called."

"You mean the spell that has dozens of potential effects, few of which are even possibly relevant to the situation at hand?"

"Yeah, yeah. I cast the damn spell."

"Congratulations, you are now sexually attracted to eggs."

"I can live with that. Have I at least managed to figure out how to access the customer's account?"

"Yes. Do you wish to access it?"

"Of course I do."

"You enter the customer's account and see the form that she claims to have filled out in its entirety. It is half-finished."

"I ask the customer if she filled out the entire form before submitting it."

"She replies that she did."

"So, she's lying, basically."

"More or less."

"I tell her that she needs to fill the whole thing out."

"The customer says you're the first person to tell her this, despite the fact that she's called in several times about the same issue."

"I check the customer's case files."

"Not only has she been told the exact same thing by every person she's spoken to already, but one of them was you."

"Why must she turn my call center into a house of lies?"

"You lie to customers all the time."

"Yes, but my lies are carefully crafted masterpieces."

"Whatever. You suffer another 6 HP of 'just because' damage."

"I walk the customer through filling out the form correctly."

"Your walkthrough succeeds. Now, the customer just needs to upload it to our system."

"Awesome. I tell her how to do that."

"I'm sorry, but the customer is on a dial-up connection."

"Those still exist? How is she even talking to me, then?"

"She's on a cell phone. You know, one of those things you'd own if you weren't such an antisocial prick."

"Fuckin' cell phones! See, this is why I hate them. It used to be that the only people walking down the street talking to themselves were the hobos and the C.H.U.D.S. Not anymore! Now they're just on their damn cell phones. 'Ooh, look at me, I think text is a verb! And I'm so important that people need to be able to reach me wherever I'm at!' Well, I've got news for you, lady: you're not important! You're nothing! You fuckin' hear me!? Nothing! I oughta head down there right now and shove my foot so far up her fucking cunt that-"

(Time passes...)

"Ugh... what happened?"

"You passed out."

"Yeah, I figured that much. How long have I been out?"

"There's a clock right over there!"

"Oh, yeah, right. Um, ten hours."

"...and why are you still here?"

"Because we have no lives."

"Fair enough. So, it's been ten hours, then. How far along is the customer's upload?"

"Five percent."

"Goddammit."

"No, wait... six percent."

"Fuck this. I attack."

"What do you attack with?"

"The hell with you; I always have to attack 'with' something, and it just gives you more ways to screw me over. I just attack."

"Your attack deals no damage."

"I hate you."

"Oh, and your weapon shatters into a million pieces."

"Fine. I improvise with a chain and a couple of empties from my pack. Beerchucks, yo!"

"...beerchucks?"

"Yeah. Totally awesome, huh?

"More like totally retarded."

"Whatever. I attack with my beerchucks."

"The customer takes 2 damage from your improvised weapon. She then counters with Lesser Failure to Read Simple Instructions and asks you what she should write on the 'your name here' portion of the form."

"I like strippers."

"The customer asks what she should put in the 'address' field."

"I like strippers."

"Are you just going to reply to every question the customer asks with 'I like strippers'?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"You suffer 20 points of damage."

"What? Why?"

"Because."

"You didn't even do your dice roll thing!"

"You suffer 20 points of damage and contract herpes."

"I hate you."

"The customer asks for the number to your corporate office."

"867-530..."

"If you finish that, so help me I will fuck you with a rake."

"Fair enough. Where is our corporate headquarters, anyways? Dallas, or Seattle?"

"It's in the City of Dis."

"Yikes."

"Yeah."

"I transfer the customer there."

"The customer is cast into the fiery depths of Hades with a bloodcurdling scream. Past the River Styx and through the Malebolge, she finally comes to rest deep within the 12th circle of Hell."

"Wow. I didn't know there was a 12th circle of Hell."

"Me, either."

"Cool! This is what I'm doing to all of my customers from now on!"

"The transfer does come at a price, however. St. Lucifer confiscates half of the beer from your pack as payment for His services."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..."

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