"So once we agreed to help, me and my Lovely Assistant headed to Chicago, entered the Pixel Palace, where this Dominique guy brought us to see That Guy With The Glasses. Once we were there, I was surprised. Not just because of who else was there, but also because there were so very few of us, including me and my Lovely Assistant."
I began wondering how many times this Razmere can keep talking about his assistant without ever thinking of telling me her name. Unless "Lovely" is her first name and "Assistant" her last, as he kept capitalizing those words.
"Anyway. Who else was there? One of them called himself Captain S. I didn't really know what to think of this guy. I mean, someone who'd carry game-console equipment like a controller, a light-gun, and even a mouse... I didn't know if this guy was serious, or just there for the joke. Anyway, another person there was the Irate Gamer. Of all people. I mean, many internet-folks would love to see the Gamer take on the Nerd, but I could never think it would be under these circumstances."
Nor did I ever think I'd have to read a message, written by a guy who just assumes that I know who or what he's talking about. If I'm to believe this German professor I met through my job, one should never ASSUME, coz otherwise one would be making an ASS out of U and ME. I suppose that's exactly what Razmere was doing. Now you're probably wondering, if this message bothers me so much, why don't I just ignore it? Well, this Razmere seems to think I can help save the world, so I want to know why. So why don't I skip a few paragraphs? Well, that would be like skipping a chapter in a book.
"And then there's this girl I have never heard of, who said her name's Ana Free."
Finally, I thought to myself, one person I actually do know. Although, one of her songs was specifically about not starting a war, or fighting one for that matter, so why would she even want to be part of this?
"So I walked to this girl and asked her: "Who are you?"
"You don't know me?" she sounded surprised, "I can go all over Europe and people would recognize me, I come here and nobody seems to recognize me."
"Chill now." the Gamer spoke, "Don't take this too personally."
And that's when That Guy With The Glasses came in: "Ah, so this will be my army of fighters."
"Army?" Ana couldn't understand, "What are you talking about?"
"Didn't I say in my video?" That Guy questioned, "I asked if anyone would come to fight the Critic and his crew."
"I thought you meant we'd put a stop to what they're doing." Ana replied, "Talk them out of it, see the error of their ways."
"Girl!" I spoke to her, "You're living in a dream world."
Before she could retort, my Lovely Assistant had something to say: "But she makes an excellent point. Why fighting them if there are better alternatives?"
"IF there are better alternatives." That Guy stressed the word 'if', "Coz right at this moment, I don't think they'll be in the mood to listen."
"Yeah." Captain S agreed, "I mean, if they could get Z to be part of this, they must really be gone mad."
"Z?" the Gamer wondered.
"Little Miss Gamer?" Captain S reminded him.
The Gamer oh-ed at that, just when I heard a toilet being flushed, and a short time later somebody else entered the room.
"Oof..." that somebody else sighed, "That needed to get out."
"Hey!" I recognized him, "Aren't you the Happy Video Game Nerd?" "
I sighed when I read that name. On the one hand it should be obvious, if there's an Angry Nerd there should be a Happy Nerd. On the other, why is it that nobody uses any real names here?
" "Ah! Two more joined in!" the Happy Nerd sounded delighted.
"We're still too small an army to stop..." the Gamer began, just before he got interrupted.
"Would you stop calling this an army?!" Ana spoke, "I mean, I thought we're supposed..."
"Yeah, yeah..." That Guy interrupted her, "Save the world, bring peace, no army, ringelingeding..."
"But let's look at this realisticly." the Gamer brought up, "There are like... seven of us. What can we do against a group of thirty?"
"I wish my friends could make it here to help." Captain S moaned.
"There may be someone who can help us." That Guy brought up.
We all looked at him, hoping to hear an answer soon, which he gave us: "The Narrator."
"We have a narrator?" I asked him.
That Guy laughed out loud: "No, that's not it. I meant the guy who wrote that journal last year."
"What journal?" the Happy Nerd asked.
"Wait, you mean that guy we met at Celebrity Deathmatch?" Captain S asked, "Who later posted what happened on the internet?"
"Yes!" That Guy answered.
"Why do you call him the Narrator?" "
After that, Razmere wrote what That Guy said, which merely confirmed what I previously thought. That the fact that I never mentioned my name, nor have an actual username, was reason enough to give me a nickname instead. And since I was telling a story, what better nickname than "The Narrator".
"So when That Guy was done explaining, Ana had her thoughts about involving you in this: "Wait a minute, last time I met him, he wanted to stay out of trouble. I don't think we should drag him into this."
"Well, that pussy won't have to." That Guy replied, "But he did mention in his journal that he met just the right people that can help us."
"So even if he's not up for it, at least his contacts will?" Captain S wondered, "Clever."
"But trust me." That Guy continued, "If we're to believe him, he knows some magic, and is a master in martial arts." "
I seriously began wondering when I ever said I was a master in anything. But then, not many of the things That Guy had said so far made much sense.
"This is where the Gamer had a problem: "That's a lot of if's there."
"Maybe we should contact this Narrator and see what he can do." my Lovely Assistant suggested.
"Sounds good to me." the Happy Nerd agreed, "But... does anyone know how to contact him?"
"He gave me his e-mail address before." Captain S replied, "But for some reason it doesn't work." "
In other words, I thought to myself, this Captain, if he is indeed one of those people I met at Celebrity Deathmatch, he still hasn't figured out that I gave him a false address because I wasn't sure if he could be trusted.
"This is where I wanted to make a suggestion: "Wait, if he posted his journal on the internet, isn't there any way we can contact him through that website?"
"That's a great idea!" That Guy sounded happier than before, "Please do that."
"Alright." I got up, stretched my fingers, then asked: "Anyone got a computer?"
And so, once I found one, I typed this message. Hopefully you get to read this in time. Quickly, because I don't know how much more the entertainment industry can hold against these people."