Proof that Scapa and Stilton cheese are a bad before-bed snack
Sing, Godess, the rage of Gianturco's son Mittani; who brought forth a sea of discontent to break against the rocky shoals of Reykjavik, and stirred the hearts of capsuleers to rebellion against the fair-haired masters of New Eden.
Sing of Mittani's coming unto the hall where Hilmar, astride his lofty throne, surveyed his realm with troubled brow.
"I'faith," quoth Hilmar, "What is this rabble gathered before my corporate gates? Who are these scabbed dogs, who creep their bellies 'pon the ground, yet seek to turn mine noble hand to do their churlish bidding? Why stand they thus, all armed with flaming brand and sharp-tined pitchfork?"
"They are thy customers," answered Mittani, lord of spies. "Unto thee and thine they pay a monthly tithe, in return for which they deem their satisfaction must needs be thine fondest desire."
"Wherefore, their discontent?" rumbled Hilmar "In what wise unsatisfied? Have I not bestowed upon them worlds and ships in space that they might strive mightily, one against the other? Do I not provide all manner of digital fashion-wear for their purchase? And yet still unsatisfied, you say?"
"Aye," said proud-eyed Mittani. "And vexed full sore, both by the misdeeds of your minions and your own sad neglect of their plight. Long have supercapital blobs driven honest capsuleers from their holdings while you dallied with first person shooters. Long have ships in space languished, falling ever farther from balance while your minions sought the bright gold of Microtransactions at your behest."
At this fair-haired Hilmar grew wroth, and smote the arm of his throne, saying:
"What doth these knaves think $14.95 a month buyeth them, the keys to the executive privy chamber? They canst not see the big picture. How shall I prosper from this venture lest there be Microtransactions? Whither else my looked for profit margins? Thou, Mittani, thou art mine elected herald to this unwashed mob. Thou shouldst have explained all to them ere now and counseled them to patience against the coming of a better day."
"I?" spoke the sly Mittani, a modest hand upon his breast. "Nay, storied son of Petur, thou dost misconstrue both my purpose and my place. I am not come to dismiss the host before you, for I have led them hither. Neither shall I quench the fire in their hearts for your pleasure, for I am its author."
"Cruel treachery then!" cried Hilmar. "Have I not played host to thee many times; brought thee across the sea's broad back to Reykjavik? Have I not feted thee with fine bacon and pretended to give ear to thine counsel, all at great expense? This is vile payment for favors past."
"Bacon eaten is bacon beyond the reach of regret," said wily Mittani. "Yet nay, no treachery here. For though I am bound by thy NDA, I am by this 'rabble' elected; to speak for them, not for thee. If I partook of thy bacon, 'twas done on their behalf."
"And yet it fattened none but thee," mused Hilmar. "Tell me in sooth, lord of Goons; who is thy true master in these matters twixt us; this mob of paltry tithers, or thine own self?
"Like unto a slate grey sea under a leaden sky, I cannot see the end of one and the beginning of the other," answered the master of metagame." The twain are as one. If you heed my words and see to their needs, thus my name shall grow. An' you not heed my words I shall speak loudly unto thee, and lo, even unto the media outlets until you relent and bend to my will. Then shall my name grow larger still."
"But how if I do not bend?" quoth Hilmar, his voice like thunder. "New Eden is mine, yea down to the its tiniest nanoship and humblest pubbie. Naught avails there but I decree it. The council of stellar managers manages naught but what I deem meet and proper. Vex me not lest I disband it; casting you and your troublesome ilk into the outer darkness!"
Wily Mittani answered Hilmar, all untroubled.
"Remember my repute among thy customer base. I have the ear of many; yea even my enemies listen to my counsel. So too the gaming magazines, who hunger ever for the content of discord, give me heed. Bend not, and I shall bring down 'pon you a great storm of rage-quitting. I shall tell stories to the media that will hearten your enemies and make your investors quail. Then shall the very stars of New Eden flicker and go dark, and with them all your ill-starred designs."
"Nay," quoth Hilmar. "If the unfaithful would rage-quit, let them do so. And let not the gates of New Eden strike them 'pon the ass ere they leave. Thus unvexed, I shall have Microtransactions and the storied wealth they bestow. Yea, even unto golden ammunition should I desire it. Then I shall no longer be hostage to those who tithe but a monthly pittance, yet seek to make themselves my master."
At this, Mittani did but smile and turn to leave.
"You have no power or desire to lay New Eden low," unbending Hilmar called after him. "And even didst thou, it is the stage 'pon which your own reputation struts. Turn off New Eden's lights and you likewise stand in darkness. Where, Mittani, would you go, New Eden having fallen?"
The Mittani paused, and turning unto Hilmar spoke thusly:
"There are other worlds than thine. If New Eden falls, I will lead my minions forth and play at World of Tanks."
"Tanks?" cried proud Hilmar, "Tanks?!"
The assembled host bowed and answered him as one.
"You are welcome, Hilmar."