Hello, party of the motherfuckers, its is I, the great taters69, back after a long vacation. I have really not been feeling the whole minecraft vibe lately, and with personal issues that take higher standing on the "Shit I need to do" list than building auto PoO2 generators, I decided to take a longish break from the server in general. If you saw me on before the beginning of February, that was mainly me relocating far away from wherever you all are. However, that hopefully changes today. I am coming back, full force, and ready to shove starch based vegetables in each and everyone of your mouths. Welcome back you shits.
From Paris, with love, Taters69
And then he never came back. The end.
"Boi." He gasped the words, struggling to stay conscious for as long as possible. Lying in a ditch just outside his local dive bar, Taters knew he was going to die. It was only a matter of time that everything he did, everything that he caused, would eventually catch up to him in one way or another. It all started back with Zen, and it all lead up to this. Right after his farming phase, he had decided he needed a break from reality and to go and have a little fun. It turned out that a little fun turned into a bit more..and a bit more..and so on and so forth. The peak of his self-titled "hiatus" was when he finally went too far and murdered the prostitute. He hadn't meant to, he was just a little under the weather at the time. He had been crashing at a friend's place, shooting up heroin as he usually did as of late, when his friend interjected with an idea. "How about we get a piece of ass to come over here, and give us a good time?" Zen was sprawled out over the futon in the corner of the living room, munching absentmindedly on a baked potato. Taters could still remember that damned baked potato and the way Zen had continued to eat, even when the girl dropped to the ground, even when she finally stopped moving. Just, looking on with a glazed expression, and munching on that potato. After that, they got rid of the body, dumped it in a lake, clean cut-and-dry disposal. But taters couldn't let it go. He let himself sink deeper and deeper into his hiatus, until he was in a constant cycle of intoxication and hangover. He eventually ended up at this bar, on this night, guzzling down his umpteenth shot of whiskey. He left, staggering, and tripped into a large man standing just outside the entrance. "Chad, is that you?" He asked, confused. The man responded by punching him in the face, kicking him in the ribs, and shooting him. Dumping him in the ditch, the man said one final thing. "And Then He Never Came Back. The End." Taters, get your fat ass back on. We need your wife beater baby, without it, I would rather be playing Second Life than playing on that server.
Tater tots just got skooled!
I live under the ground in a mutli-layer vault with a dog named, DogMeat.