Bilge Swill self-styled 'The'
Bleached Tavil
Posts: [4]
The Bilge was a doctor. A great doctor. An awesome doctor. He has no illusions about his abilities - he was on par with God. Or at the very least in the same general tier of godliness. He supposed he hadn't risen the dead just yet, but it could hardly be far off in his future with skills like his. After all, he'd delivered more babies into dumpsters than any other doctor up and down the length of the wharves - surely a well-deserved death-defying miracle or two was just around the corner. He was vaguely under the impression that live babies wouldn't fare quite so well in the dumpsters as their slightly less alive counterparts but it didn't really concern him.
He was a doctor, not a nanny.
A great doctor.
Mr. Sludge Swain
Blaze Fenling
Posts: [11]
Superlative? Over-dramatic? Me?
Absolutely not, how completely indecent of you to say so. My reputation is ruined forever. I abhor such unforgivably harsh words. Your judgment of my (wonderful) character shall forever be lodged in the depths of my soul. I can feel it already, wounding me in an exquisite fashion that I quite resent. I should think the entire world shall name me a right and proper saint for having endured such slander without causing you bodily harm. See that it does not happen again or I may feel my iron self-control slipping up somewhat.
Faugh, over-dramatic indeed.
Good day, sir.
Blaze Fenling
Posts: [11]
Superlative? Over-dramatic? Me?
Absolutely not, how completely indecent of you to say so. My reputation is ruined forever. I abhor such unforgivably harsh words. Your judgment of my (wonderful) character shall forever be lodged in the depths of my soul. I can feel it already, wounding me in an exquisite fashion that I quite resent. I should think the entire world shall name me a right and proper saint for having endured such slander without causing you bodily harm. See that it does not happen again or I may feel my iron self-control slipping up somewhat.
Faugh, over-dramatic indeed.
Good day, sir.
Sir
Bleached Sheilupe
A morbidly depressed, self-loathing PR rep for an unsuccessful firm who will never climb even a single rung of the corporate ladder he's chained to. His wife is disgustingly successful at everything she does and she never lets him forget it. She rubs his face in it as cruelly as possible whenever the two of them happen to be in the same room and she isn't otherwise engaged in being obscenely, invincibly prosperous. As a PR rep, he is supposed to be the mirror off of which his clients are bounced into the light of the media so his corporate persona undermines his personal self at every turn. He is, at this point, called simply Sir; a faceless corporate lackey whose name no longer matters to anybody including himself and who has known since the beginning that his future holds nothing but a string of underwhelming failure.
Chocomallow Teigu
Purchased 01/01/2011 (133)
Unnamed
TBA
