Diplomacy: Negotiations with SFRIM

Lord Tash-Murkon, you are gracious and your head is also as naked as a wee baby rat. One appreciates the gesture.

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He never specified what hair he was referring to. I vote for pink, with documentation and a complimentary icepick to remove the memories of said documentation afterwards.

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Here in Para’nashu, I think we’re working on making it a capital offense to come within 50 yards of my hair with an open container of hair dye.

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Note to self: work on a non-lethal fluid delivery system with an accurate range of 55 meters.

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Namas, Ms Funk. I think Ms Del’thul already pointed that out, though it’s probably good to continue spreading that warning…

So please carry on!

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Like a squirt gun?

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Yes, but really good one.

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Long range soaking technology has come a long way it seems.

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Reply moved.

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What about shears or clippers?

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Vlad. Extrapolate from context, please. Consider that despite a contrary, residual affection whose initial origin bewilders me, I would not hesitate to murder you for assault upon the person of Lord Consort Shutaq-Newelle as any proper Imperial citizen ought do. And I don’t murder people.

Do not even joke about coming at his hair. Do NOT.

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After a careful survey of all available assets I can only offer a dyeing of my eyebrows. No other hair features exist on the owned landscape.

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… suuuuuure.

I mean, old farts like you can’t trim nosehair faster than it grows at this point.

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Ones that have clones tailored as often as suits do. :wink:

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Ah, fair enough. I’ll admit, I had my suspicions given the sheer quality of the dessication.

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Now I’ll appear to be talking to myself.

I am sad.

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Slaughter without meaning, butchery without purpose, and empty, meaningless horror are all part of God’s creation, and it is God’s intent that we Savants cultivate experience of these things; so long, of course, that direct these experiences upon God’s intended target for such things: the Minmatar people.

Just now, I have abandoned 500 slaves, five slaver hounds, no food, and too little water and Vitoc in a Mobile Depot in low-sec Devoid. The horror that is to take place in that Mobile Depot defies almost defies imagination, yet God invites us to contemplate such horror nonetheless, for there is awesome, even beautiful profundity in such horror: a meaningless, pointless death on one level to be sure, but behind it something of depth beyond words.

At least Mister Nauplius listened to his PR Agent and debleached his hair!

Consider getting a trim while you’re at it Mister Nauplius. Long hair just doesn’t suit you.

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I’m not his PR agent. I also like his hair the way it is.

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As one of the leading dĂŚmonologists at Kaztropolis Imperial University, (go Wombats!) , I can offer my services if people think it would help, when it comes to examining premises for dĂŚmonic activity.

Should an independent third-party be required for this kind of thing.

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