Enzo

My finger is poised above the ban button, I am a moderator, an esteemed custodian of this niche, backwater server, I will not allow impudence. "Just one excuse", I shriek to the man, who seconds earlier, proceeded to mock my nasally, high pitched voice, "just try and make my day". The aggressor hesitates and then with a voice filled to the brim with confidence and charisma, proceeds to mock my status as a moderator of this esteemed server, a land in which I have dedicated hundreds of hours of soliciting sexual favours from the owners, in order to ascend up the hierarchy. He even had the audacity to question my life commitments, claiming that I am a loser who resides upon this niche game for the majority of my life, dishing out corporal punishments to unruly players. After these malicious words, the other players gather around and form a semicircle, laughing at his insidious words, whilst simultaneously hurtling watermelons in an attempt to make me dance, forming jibes of their own, and demanding that I abdicate my hold on Centrelink and go outside to live life productively. Tears, streaming down my cheeks, I permanently ban four players for repeated harassment and collect myself, to recover from the shellshock and trauma that I have endured at the hands of these adolescent children. I, as the watchful eye over this server, the esteemed sentinel had been violated by a group of young adults, by a band of miscreants, oh the woe, the utter injustice. They are unaware of the sacrifices I have made, to ensure that I retain my grand position. I have had to dedicate hours of my life, miss out on genuine real life evens, all so I could acquire my role as an prestigious admin of this server, emulating a My Little Pony landscape. Any who disrespect and mock that fact, subsequently mock the law and as such will be punished in full accordance to the ambiguous terms and conditions that I have at my disposal. If you believe that I am abusive, or an egotistical sociopath, then may I suggest exiled one, that you take your gripes to the forums, where your ban appeal will be judged by a group of illiterate, non English speakers, residing in New Delhi. After attempting for hours to appeal, I will await for your capitulation, pleas and inevitable apology, regarding the naughty and supercilious words to myself. I am not condescending, why in reality I am benevolent, omnipotent God, within this server all but the owner himself are subject to my every whim. If I want you to cease having fun, I can merely snap my fingers and distort the entirety of your existence. If I am in need of thralls, I can merely shackle and encage you within a hastily concocted box and parade you throughout the town square. In essence, I am your God, I am the vigilant warden of this pristine server and no matter of injustice will elude my watchful gaze. The following you have read, is an excerpt gleaned from the mind of a moderator from a Garry's Mod, My Little Pony server. This moderator in particular was acquired from Rivellions researching team, with the researchers being able to successfully abduct said admin, by luring him inside a steel cage, with the promise of My Little Pony magazines. After several minutes transpired, the moderator grew wary and soon realised that his beloved pony comics would not be bequeathed to him. Following this epiphany, the moderator proceeded to bellow obscenities and hastily concocted threats, informing each of the researchers that he is an omniscient deity, who would not hesitate to permanently extradite them from his server. Realising, that the stony faced researchers would not heed his warning, he attempted to delve down a unique route, attempting to console with his captors, ensuring them that their bans would solely be a swift two months and that they would have the privilege of appealing upon the community forums, which he assured are a reputable and effective way to appeal. Comprehending that his attempts at courtesy would yield no fruit, he began unleashing a rabid tirade, shrieking guttural pony mating calls, all the while attempting to gnaw upon the steel bars that ensured his captivity. The team, realising that the moderator was becoming increasingly volatile, proceeded to tranquilise him with copious quantities of horse sedatives. The moderator, subdued and slumbering within his cage was stored inside a cargo ship that set off to Madagascar. Reportedly, during the trip, said moderator was coerced into masquerading as a pony, being ridden throughout the ships bay and nicknamed as the famed Prancy the pony. The moderator furthermore was treated with utmost courtesy, wearing a immaculate collar and having the luxury of residing within either an oil barrel or crate. Upon arriving to Madagascar, the moderator was gifted to a tribe of Madagascan cannibals, in exchange for four coconuts, and a family of saltwater Crocodiles. The moderator, now contentedly resides under duress with the Madagascan cannibals, being hired as a professional jester for the tribe. The role as a jester bears many responsibilities, he is obliged to dance upon fire ants, consume raw food, copulate with livestock and become the chieftains personal steed. If the moderator hypothetically refuse to comply with his newfound occupation, then his failure to abide by indentured servitude will negatively detract from his resume, alongside the fact that the cannibalistic tribe may attempt to roast him alive and gnaw upon his limbs. Fortunately, the moderator has no intention of abandoning his duty and maintains a conscientious work ethic, parading around as a jester for the benevolent, cannibalistic tribe. Asides, from the moderators fate, there is still the matter of the characteristics of these peculiar moderating specimens, they present a morale quandary to the world, a philosophical inquiry that explores to what extent the socially inept will exploit a fragment of power, handed to them by the server owner atop a Mcdonald's kids meal. I often contemplate upon what compels these moderators, these emotive apparitions. I frequently ruminate on why they invest and squander their days within remote servers, it is an utter enigma. However, it is a tangible certainty, that these moderating hordes bear pride in their indentured volunteer work. They crave the power of regaling themselves to others, as the kings of niche servers, that are only capable of hosting eight individuals. They adore, how the masses of their server, which equate to four or so children, gaze upon them with a mixture of astonishment and awe, as the moderator parades around the town square, his aristocratic robes and affluent cowl flowing in the wind. It is the lust for power that compels him, that justifies the depraved acts he committed for the owners amusement. While the moderator was a regular player, he writhed in anger at every injustice he endured, recording each jest within his book of grudges. Every time he was hurtled out of a cannon, or coerced into becoming the owners personal harlot, he vowed to repay his grievances back tenfold. Now, he has his chance and all who mocked him will not elude his wrath, his oath will be fulfilled and all those who dishonoured his legacy will be permanently banned from his Equestrian My Little Pony server. May we all bear pride in our work, in a way identical to the fair faced lads who rule the My Little Pony servers and others with an iron gauntlet.

+/-, While we both had a positive interactions and that you are quite knowledgeable on the rules let alone having a recent warn in regards to 'FailRP l WW' , try avoid making such jokes especially as a future staff member as players won't take you seriously.

Okay so basically my mom wouldn’t let me pay $50 to a darkrp server so I could get the lightsaber swep. This was fucking infuriating, as the lightsaber swep is really cool and fast and powerful, and not only do you get the swep, you get anime model along with it. Anyways, because my mom wouldn’t let me buy it I knocked her out, and took the credit card out of her purse. I quickly rushed over to donate directly to the server so I could get the swep, but then I realized, the fucking credit card wouldn’t work because we were out of money, due to the fact that I previously spent the last of it on vbucks so I could buy the new Travis Scott skin. This made me so fucking angry, so angry in fact that I literally broke my window just by throwing the credit card at it. I knew there was only one option left: I had to go to Garry Newman himself to get the lightsaber swep. I quickly stepped out of the broken window, got in my moms car, and drove to the airport. Since I had no money, I ran through security quickly, and went onto the airfield. I quickly hijacked the plane and started flying over to Garry’s house. The passengers were terrified, but I knew my lightsaber swep and anime model was more important than their lives. Anyways, I crash landed the plane, destroying several buildings, and I got out before it exploded due to the engine smoking. Then, I finally saw it: Garry’s house. It had a giant sign that said, “Garry Newman, proud creator of Garry’s Mod. Any attempts to enter this house will result in certain death.” I did not fear Garry’s threatening sign, rather it gave me courage knowing that I would be able to get the lightsaber swep and anime model in the end. I broke through the window, only to be greeted by several turrets aiming directly at me. I ran through all the bullets and took down the turrets. Before anymore defenses could try to kill me, I quickly ran upstairs and broke down the door to Garry’s room. “So you’ve finally made it. Count me impressed.” I took a step forward, “I want the lightsaber swep and anime model on the darkrp server, Garry.” He gave a threatening smile, “Didn’t you see the KOS sign outside my house? Looks like you’ll have to win the battle against me, unless you plan to break NLR and get banned.” He took out his toolgun, and started spawning explosive barrels and combine. I realized I had a power within me, too, as I suddenly was able to spawn props in real life. The whole world started to collapse around me, and I started to realize this wasn’t only a fight that determined who would ultimately prevail, but also a fight that determined the very fate of the time space continuum. I started dodging his explosive barrels, whilst killing the combine with props I spawned. He then started spawning nukes, which I had to keep deleting before they exploded. At this point, I realized his defeat had to be now or never, as reality itself was starting to collapse around us. With one last slither of hope, I quickly ran over to his computer, and disabled noclip in server settings. He fell to the ground, “No, what are you doing?!?!” He screamed, as I spawned a bathtub and threw it at him, killing him with prop pushing. I only heard “RDM RDM RDM!!!” before everything went white. After what seemed like an eternity later, I eventually woke up in my room, with a real life lightsaber and an anime girl in my room. I quickly realized that while reality was collapsing, gmod must have merged with real life. In the end, I technically got what I wanted, so I guess I can’t complain. I just can’t help but wonder what plain of reality Garry Newman resides in now.

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RDM him back

Candy corn pizza tho

Nice memes

The new COD compilation is looking quite great

+1

+1

He was way into immersive in that RP. +1

Changing my vote to +1

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!slay *

+1

Starting WWIII with my gunstore

I should win because yes. Aether Gang's base liveleak

Changing my vote to, +1, Has own up to his mistake moving forward and is quite levelheaded which is as much of an importance to becoming a staff member. Staff app is on point and has showcased to be quite knowledgeable on the rules. Had an extensive amount of interactions with you prior to the creation of the staff app.

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Changing my vote to, +1

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+1