Ding 20!

Thank you!  Thank you!  Mua!  Mua!

I have so many people to thank.  [Shuffles notes, most of which have excessive doodles on them.]  The first, of course, is my mentor, Mr. Paul Barnett, without whom I might have never known how to combat the forces of the evil sun without superior eye protection.

Then comes Snafzg, whose courageous dismissal of vowels and a pronouncable name gave me the backbone to be silly in the face of sanity.

After that, and before that, and during that, comes Chrono Chaos, the BEST guild in the WORLD and also the SPACE-TIME CONTINUUM.  Remember that raid we had on Hitler’s bunker in 1945?  Even with the crappy loot drops, we still had a blast.

Finally, I’d like to thank the sadistic programmer at Mythic who considered death a trivial matter, and enabled a way for Syp to die again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again.  Without you, I might still be at rank 4 (but at peace).

The challenges of 1-20 might be behind me, but they are not forgotten.  As I cruise through the Badlands in a souped-up blender, I will call upon the lessons of the past to confront the future.  I will ignore the dwarf female haters out there, who obviously haven’t know the touch of a good woman since the nurse pulled them out of their mother’s womb at rank 1, and be happy to be the weird little quirky self that I am.  I will jump off cliffs with impunity, for someday I will earn that “AHHHHHH!” title.  I will giggle like the Pillsbury Doughboy when a Maurauder pokes me, and then I will rearrange his disfigured mug with my surgical shotgun.

For I am rank 20 — hear me roar!