As the new year begins, it’s a time to make resolutions for how the coming year will be better than the previous one. Here’s a look at the resolutions some of your favorite Fandible characters are making!
‘Ello! I ain’t knowin’ why you’s comin’ in my room — YOU think you da Big Boss? You wanna take down da Big Boss!? You think you got the swingin’ bits that flop-flop-flop like da Kap’tin? I’ll kills you! And when you be done dyin’, I’ll let Little Barsha have youse as a meal! And when he poops you out — which he willz — I’ll use da rest to clean my Big Choppa!
A very interesting question, that is. But to answer you, I must have more information. Now, are you asking what I hope that this New Year brings? Or are you asking if I have some wish that last year’s atmosphere kept from my grasp? If it is the latter, then I would have you know that nothing holds the Clayton hand back.
However, if you are asking what I hope this New Year offers me… I would have to say that I hope… I have high hopes that… I hope I get to…
I’m sorry — why are you important enough to speak with?
I have plans! Big plans! I’m gonna be moving up in the world – well, the island. Moving up in the world means going back to the surface, and who wants that? Up there, I’m a nobody. Down here, I could be somebody! SOMEBODY WITH A COOL HAT.
Hell, all I want is two things. First, I want my sister to stop actin’ like a sonova bitch. And two? I want Strauss to be eaten. Slowly. And I want him screamin’ that his science will save him the entire time until the very end. And I want Grover to film it so I can continue to rewatch the event over and over again until the day I die. Oh! And I want to shoot Ilsa. No monologue. No questions. No sexual tension. Just see her, aim, and fire — bam, splat, dead.
What can I say? I’m a simple man. Wait – I ain’t that sort of simple. Get out of my face, hoss!
A toast! To the problems we put in our past and to the trouble we start in our future! May we each remember the things we hold dear to get us through the most trying times.
Quiet down, quiet down. What’s that? What am I talking about? I’m talking about traversing the London streets at night, unharmed in a stolen carriage, and slogging through the sewers in search of a hunched monstrosity as the streets above are shelled with mortars (on account of the throngs of living dead, you see.) I’m talking about falling off a building, ten stories y’know, only to land on the creature of the night you’re wrestling with and limping back home to absolutely no praise whatsoever! I’m talking about well-armed uninvited guests just marching into your home every night of the week. I’m talking about being shot, stabbed, bit, bludgeoned, thrown and burned, only to fulfill a debt. I’m talking about acknowledging poor life choices.
But raise a glass to the future! I for one resolve to learn a new trade that has less to do with mind-shattering terror and to repay all debts I owe and to have all debts repaid to me. I swear to make a sad woman smile, to make a degenerate into a gentleman, to tell a crazy mercenary who thinks she’s a scientist to fuck right off and to look after a crazy scientist who doesn’t think.
Lastly, I resolve to giving back twice as good as I get.
As the Shadow Labyrinth continues to amass enemies from without, I shall hunt down the enemies that continue to insist on infesting us from within. No one is safe in this Emperor-forsaken plot of space. I am the only one capable of preventing this ship and its captain from being overrun by mutineers.
Just as the quest for true knowledge in the glorious light of the Omnissiah marches ever-forward, so too does the dawning of a new cycle. This previous year has brought trials and hardships that only the wisdom and training bestowed by the Machine God can lead us through, and yet we have prevailed.
Wait, go back, go back, that came out wrong.
Alright, begin recording.
This previous year has brought us many obstacles from around the galaxy, from demonic phantom code to hostile death worlds whose only purpose is to extinguish all life on it’s surface. For the sake of posterity I should also mention the ill-planned raid on a Tyranid-infested Space Hulk, the encounter with the Dark Eldar, an amnesiac space marine, a newly cured of amnesiac space marine, a handful of major on-ship rebellions, a violent split in the Adeptus Mechanicus aboard the ship stemming from said rebellions, relying on a Kroot, Ork and psychopathic Space Russian to keep me alive, a near-unstoppable demonic enemy of the Captain’s (who really shouldn’t be my problem because, logically, why should I have to get involved? Answer: I shouldn’t) and virtually anything preceded by the words “Activate the Warp Drive.”
Interesting. Now that I take stock of the various threats that face us and quickly estimate the chances of success against such a tide of uncertainty, I am compelled to modify my previous list of objectives for the new cycle. Done. They are as follows:
Praise the Omnissiah.
Carry the one.
I, RARRR god of bears, (Bear Chorus: ROAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRR) have only recently become a god. A GOD OF BEARS! (Bear Chorus: ROAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRR) I will learn more about being a god. I will let my power grow like in those Japanese animations where they scream a lot. And when I am done, I shall be known as the strongest god, to be worthy of joining the pantheon of Louisville! These beings must be truly great and powerful to have the time to speak with a lowly god like me. Especially with the constant intruders and obvious sense of dread I am sure they are sensing. They must be preparing in their vast dominions with their thousands of followers for the coming battle. Soon I will join them. Mortals will scream my name from the rooftops of every nation, for I am RARRR GOD OF BEARS
(Bear Chorus: ROAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRR)
You wish to know my resolution? Fine, I will lose a minute of my precious time to tell you simpletons my plans for the new year. Pay close attention. IT IS SCIENCE! I will discover more of the hollow earth, I will study ancient technology from superior civilizations of days gone by, then, I, Strauss, shall push through to the world above and show them my genius. Show them what I have discovered and finally get the recognition I deserve. I Just need a few more nails to buy that blasted ham radio.
HOOT HOOT. Byron is on the opium again HOOT HOOT. Time to suggest again HOOT HOOT. This year he will see the truth HOOT HOOT. Or I will have to murder him HOOT HOOT Also, I will find more flies HOOT HOOT
Wow! A new year and new things with it! I often ask myself “I wonder what tomorrow will bring?” But that’s a pretty tall order when the next day is also a whole new year! It’s like time travel! Go to bed one year in Boston slightly buzzed from too much whisky and good-natured joking around, then wake up in an entirely new year somewhere outside of Atlanta.
After a lot of consideration I’ve decided that this year I’m gonna make a metric ton of cash. I’ve been putting it off for a while now (what with work being slow and then flying my plane into the face of a dragon and all) but with the new year upon us and gun-toting nazi/pirate/mobster/mermaids around every corner, I can smell opportunity. I chose a “metric” ton of cash because they use metrics in Europe, and since Europe has been making money long before the good ol’ U S of A has, I figure their ton of cash must be a whole lotta dough! That’s using the ol’ MacGuffin noggin.
I’ll sign off with a bit of advice old coach Murray gave to me once:
“Zap, they say that ‘what you don’t know can’t hurt you’, and son, there’s a whole lot you don’t know.”
You bet, coach.
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