Okay. I'll start with explaining the whole title thingie.
I'm actually half-Navajo (Native American/Indian whatever the hell you want to call us) and I was born in Germany (on a USAF
Base so I'm American). Later on as I moved from Germany to Oklahoma to Wisconsin, I met many new people and became friends
with them. One day, in the Wisconsin backwoods I met an old man who was living in a small shack. He said his name was Max.
"Hi Max, I'm Mike." He asked if I had any food. I only had
a mango, my favorite fruit, but he looked pretty hungry, so I gave it to him.
"Is this all you have?" He looked at me, questioningly.
"Yeah."
"Well, now we have two." Suddenly he had two mangoes in
his hand. As we ate the fruit he began telling me some amazing stories about his life. Before I knew it, the day had turned
to dusk and I had to leave. However, I promised to return tomorrow, but with more food. He said I shouldn't bother, but from
the look of things I felt that I needed to, considering his dilapidated surroundings.
Soon it became a regular routine to visit Max, that is, until one day he told me, he
would have to leave soon.
"Are you dying?"
"No, I'm headed for Key West." As I turned to leave I felt a warm glow and turned around
to say goodbye. Max was emitting a gentle aura of blue.
"But before I leave, I must tell you of your pre-ordained destiny." He began to tell
me of a journey, through which I would face many hardships, persecutions, and bounced checks.
"But why me?", I asked.
"Because otherwise you wouldn't have a reason to build a website." I could practically
see the wisdom oozing from his various, hair-filled orifices.
"What is it that I'm seeking?", I wondered.
"You are seeking others of your kind, the Ordained, the Germajos...you will be gods
among men, but there are very few left among the disease-ridden scum that inhabit this place."
"Earth?"
"What? No, I mean Green Bay. You must seek out the one called Starve. He is the one
of the leaders of the NFers, a powerful group of men that is slowly being taken over by detestable beings. The NFers are much
more powerful than normal men, but their numbers are limited."
"Who? Aliens? Nazis? Lawyers? Anti-choir people?"
"Skaters..."
"NO!!"
"Yes. You must help him defeat these 'skaters' and then he will assist you in finding
the remaining Germajos. You will also need to learn how to make Bundt cake."
"Huh?!"
"In order to get the assistance of another. He is called Andrar. He is possessing in
many rare abilities and is of another small but powerful race, called the Trifactors, mostly loners. Once you have
sought these two out you will form a corpora-- I mean, alliance that will go down in the annals of man."
"Heh heh"
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing. So about these "annals of man". Will the trip be dirty?"
"Yes, it will be a dirty trip indeed."
"Heh heh"
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing. So what should I do now?"
"You must seek battle on all three planes. First the Middle Plane, in Green Bay,
you must destroy all who would call a bubbler, a drinking fountain. Next you must descend into the Lower Plane, where
you must give Satan a red-assed beatdown. Lastly, you must venture to the heights of heaven and slap around Saint Peter."
"Hold on. Why would I do that?"
"That cheap punk stole my pen, and refused to pay me back. I want my pen back. When
you have completed these task, return to me."
So I went about and beat the crap out of anyone who refused to call a bubbler, a bubbler.
Then I went to Hell, saw Satan and gave him a size fifteen express, right up his fudge-ring. Lastly, I went to Heaven, but
for obvious reasons I was a little reluctant about beating around my ticket to Paradise. So when I confronted him about the
pen, and he refused, I got ready to fight him, but at the last second I told him that I was a Germajo. Quickly realizing the
folly of his ways, he handed over the pen, though to hold on to my salvation I gave him an entire bag of Bic pens.
So with my tasks completed, I headed back to the shack. Max was in a robe of white
silk.
"Did you get my pen?", he asked eagerly. Unfortunately when I handed it to him, it
exploded.
"Awww crap, I just had this dry-cleaned. Oh well. So you're back and of course that
is little surprise to me. Now you must seek out the mighty NFer and the Trifactorite and your full potential will be realized.
You should also make a website and let your story be known. You are Mike, Germajo King, ruler of your race. And now a gift,
through which your power will be channeled. Here is Grey Steel, a powerful weapon to be used in wisdom, never in anger and
never to be used on dairy products, it's not good for the blade. Goodbye and good luck." With these words, he slowly faded
into the air.
Since then I've found the two powerful allies and together, a corporation was formed.
That's how it was all begun, how it will end is yet to come.
