Presenting: The Shoobafet

By: Craig Lager

Published: September 14, 2008 Posted in: Game Reports

Gaffamots are fucked. They got into space fine, but it turns out that the attitude of ‘I see I kill’ doesn’t work too great for inter-spacial relations. In fact, it works terribly, to the extent that everyone wants to kill you. My personal universe turned against me.

New tactic; leave the Gaffamots to get on with it. They don’t need me any more…probably. We’ll I’m not putting up with their shit any more anyway. They were always winging about damp patches in their houses, and that the rate of inflation wasn’t being covered by minimum wage, creating an economic slump across the lower classes. Whatever. Jog on.

I found a new planet to fuck up, and spawned The Shoobafet. “Loving on the outside, bitter hatred on the inside. It smiles to your face while planning on eating it”

Spore: The shoobafet is born

The primordial soup floats by without much incident, and the little Shoobafet sprouts some legs

spore: the shoobafet grows some legs

The first thing the new leader of the Shoobafet gathering sees on the new found land is a dead creature. Just lying there. Dead. Two things go through the Alpha Shoobafets head at this point.

1. This is not a good sign. WTF killed it?
2. This isn’t any creature, this is a fooking Darwinian!

The tribe leader now realizes he should have took a photo…what an idiot. After seeing the dead Darwinian, he goes off in search of their tribe, to inform them of their tragic loss. After loads of searching (literally 10 minutes worth), there are no Darwinians in sight. There were, however, some Squirells

Spore: a squirell

and…some roast chickens.

spore: a roast chicken

The leader makes a mental note to befriend the Squirells….but probably kill the Chickens.

On the search for the ever devious Darwinians, the Shoobafet gets into a bit of a scrape with some weird little yellow creature. Its looking like it could be close, but with a bit of luck, the Shoobafet should scrape it, then OMFG WTF?!

A giant purple thing literally drops from the sky and knocks the shit out of the little yellow thing. I cower and try to hide, “Pwease dont eat ikkle old me” I beg. Luckily its a friendly creature. I try to make friends with it, but I end up putting all the work into the conversation, and the thing just leaves.

I make a pledge, rescue me or not, if anything is going to be that impolite to just walk off mid conversation, no matter how big it may be, I’m not going to let it drop. Big purple thing, one day, I will find you, and when I do…well to be honest you’ll probably just eat me. But on that day, I’m going to taste bad on purpose. Ha! Take that….mofo.

Craig Lager
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