A Word From Our Sponsor

I thought that I would take a moment to post a word from our sponsor. It's not from the Galactic Federation of Light and it's not from the Galactic Federation of Planets and it's not even from the Galactic Federation. It's from the Galactic Federation of Ass-Kicking and Whompass. You've never heard of them? That's because all great deeds never go unpunished.

A long time ago a few dudes got together, joining hands in vengeance against some silly entity which they felt inferior to. Poor widdle wabbits. They were called the Gang of Surreptitious Stalkers because they would sneak into one's drawers and pull out all sorts of goodies, delighting in their take-home pay on their way back to the hide-out located on some silly rock out in the middle of nowhere where by chance no one liked to go.

After a time the decision was made to 'formalize' their opinions and so a charter was written up by one of the members who just happened to know how to interpret, encode and recite their hillbilly wet dream. As the front man Mr. Dictation cemented his relationship by strangulation, impalement and other sorts of nasty business. He came to be 'the Man'.

Over time other simple-minded races became swayed or convinced that their best option was to join the clan as full paying members. The coffers, in no short order, became overflowing with toys, trinkets and gold. How easy the take became, all one had to do was walk the corridors to imbibe in the opulence of a well organized militia. But then, that happened.

It drove 'em wild with fury and in the ensuing proclamations the Galactic Federation of Ass-Kicking and Whompass came to be born.

Yup, they are our sponsor, being the big boys that they are. Kind, generous and overflowing with love and light we all owe a debt of gratitude to them for just being alive.

I tremble at the knee in the thought that killers were set loose upon the land in order to devastate it's abundance just for the pleasure of seeing something wither and die.

And the wind blows...