Got Ghand - Installment #1
by -Ghandaiah-
Hey! You! Put down that copy of Soldier of Fortune (don't tell me you were actually going to play that...), that six-pack of beer, and that freaky-looking lawn gnome. There are better ways to beat boredom, especially around here at Planet Deus Ex! That's right, we're not just a bunch of losers who sit around trying to figure out where the hidden pr0n room is in the Paris mission. We can be funny, too!
Most of us, anyway...
So by now you're thinking "Alright, Mr. Smarty-Pockets, who are you, and what makes you think you're funny?" - While I may at first just seem like another boring fool, I'm really not. As a matter of fact, everything you see in Deus Ex is real, going on as we speak, and completely authentic. Just like Star Trek!
Considering what I've just revealed to you, it's safe to assume the NSF, playing an undoubtedly major role in the Dues Ex saga, is alive and healthy. Save for those hundreds that Denton whacked before taking the sudden switch-around and joining them, which was strangely no problem to the rest... BUT, the NSF is definitely a true organization.
So where is the going? Why am I wasting your valuable naked goats time? Ah-HA! I, you see, am... used to be... an NSF soldier myself! No joke! So what am I doing on Planet Deus Ex?
You see, when Denton went on his rampage, virtually slaughtering Majestic 12, the little bugger actually missed this little compound way out here in the depths of the Atlantic! Geeze, how could he miss something so obvious?! Anyway, because of the jerk's little slip-up, I'm still being held captive in the depths of the sea! That man makes me angry
Here is a picture of my underwater cell. How dreadful. And talk about roomies from hell!
"So, Mr. Smarty-Pockets, you still haven't answered my question. Why the hell are you here, on Planet Deus Ex?" Simple. Majestic 12, being the stealthy ninja type, sent me as a spy. They heard that PDX had resourceful information about the NSF, JC, and such. That's when they gave me my stealthy ninja type code-name, "Ghandaiah". They thought, well, if he's here, acting as a simple column writer, he can steal important information and such from the real people who work here.
But alas! The empty-headed fools only assigned ONE GUARD to monitor what I'm writing in my column. Little do they know, I, being the muscle-bound hero I am, quickly killed the said guard, and efficiently hid his carcass. I do believe my officer friend took a snapshot of the incident (why he then ran off in the other direction yelling 'guards, guards', I'll never know.)
I am obviously a master of secrecy and furtiveness.
So why then, you say, don't I use my enigmatic stealthyness to escape from my imprisonment? It's too well guarded! Even I cannot escape these tight security measures.
And besides, I might get hurt. Even muscle-bound heroes like me don't enjoy getting bruised! Especially not in the face! I'd rather defeat the guards with a thoughtful game of chess. Imagine the possibilities!
Anyway - now that I've slaughtered the single guard with the job of monitoring my progress, I must devise a way of escape. Unfortunately, this compound doesn't even have the trademark system of man-sized air ducts! How am I supposed to escape now?!
I'm afraid the single patrol guarding my unlocked cell is returning from the restroom, so I must end my writings. Can't let them see that I'm trying to invent an escape plan!
Oh yes, one last thing. I must ask for feedback from all my faithful readers. While there was only one guard who was to monitor my articles, MJ12 itself still monitors incoming mail. They don't read the messages, only see to it that I'm getting them - which means you shan't be afraid to make suggestions for my great escape! Feel free to mail me with your comments, questions, pictures of green cheese with fuzzy bread, etc. Your messages shall then be discussed!
Until next time,
-Ghandaiah-
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