In 1998, I finally transferred out of ESU and was preparing to settle down to a quiet life of writing and finishing my BA in English. I thought I was just answering a want ad for English Tutoring services--but I was far from correct. In August of that year, I was whisked away to defend an innocent tribe of Alpaca herdsmen from the Central Andean Llama Brigade.
After the treacherous--and nearly fatal--Battle of Milgrande's Kidney, I found myself as a frontline platoon commander against the godless llama bastards and set myself in for a long, cold, fight. Amazingly enough, we found the Brigade's primary weakness to be a devotion to Cheez-its, and with the help of Segnora Jake Bishop, Lord of the Monkey People, we were able to unite with the marmosets of the region (quite fluent in German: "Bist du ein llama? NEIN--Ich bin jetzt Jake Bishop. Morgen Abend werde ich Winona Ryder sein!") and crush the llama horde. The net result was lower coffee prices for everyone, and sleepless nights for twice that number.
(A funny thing about this, I remember one time General Salvador saying to me, "PHS hmm? So you graduated with James McIntyre?" and I said, "Umm. No. He graduated in 1996." We both thought it rather humourous.)
As a reward for my selfless service to them, the Alpaca Herdsmen presented me with my maiden name--it's latin for "he who talks with the kindred bananas." As part of my initiation procedure I was forced to cut off my hair. However, I was glad to suffer what was necessary for the kinship of these stout farmers--and lower coffee prices.
Being content with saving the western coast of South America, I decided to return to Kansas and finish my BA in English/Creative Writing. If I'm lucky grad school comes next.
If there's one thing the moutain herdsmen taught me, it was: "Never insert a bit of cheap sexual innuendo when the truth can do equally as well."
Oh well, off to practice the gee-tar.