So, I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned this before, but I’m really starting to think, oh, I don’t know, I might possibly need some BETTER FUCKING MINIONS. Have I already talked about this?

WELL HERE’S THE LATEST FUCKING CHAPTER.

I just got a report from General Nazgrim in Pandaria. Delivered straight from Pandaria by the general’s personal courier, Quirox the Illiterate. Yes, you read that right. Yes, that’s his nickname. No, I’m not joking. And yes, it’s accurate. And as ridiculous as that sounds, it actually has some merit to it. Think about it — an illiterate courier means you can send highly classified, top secret documents without there being ANY chance of prying eyes peeking in transit. Also, this might or might not tell us anything, but later on in the day, guess who I noticed ol’ Quirox hanging out with? Here’s a hint: the letters D and U are involved. Birds of a braindead feather, I tell you.

Anyway, Nazgrim’s report. And if you’ve been reading the blog for any length of time, you probably already have a sense of what tends to happen when I delegate to people and then have them report back to me later. For those of you who are new to the party, what tends to happen is NOTHING WHATSOEVER THAT IS GOOD FOR MY FUCKING BLOOD PRESSURE. Case in point: A little while back, I gave Nazgrim orders to send some people up to this Isle of Giants place off the coast of Pandaria and see what the dinosaur situation was. Because if the fucking Zandalari could sweet-talk some of the dinosaurs into being mounts and minions for them, we sure as well should try to get in on the ground floor there, because DINOSAURS, HOT DAMN.

Now, Nazgrim’s original assignment was to send a scouting detail to size things up. Which he did, with a small team headed by Marksman Shokia and Shademaster Kiryn. They zipped on up to the Isle of Giants, surveyed the area, gathered info on the denizens. No sign of the Zandas, other than an abandoned ship off the coast. Still loads of dinosaurs all over the place, ready for the taking. So far, so good. Awesome.

Then, for some reason I DON’T KNOW WHY, Nazgrim decided to get creative and go off the script.

This is the part where the long-time readers among you probably starting getting a Bad Feeling About This.

Because…yeah.

So, you might remember a few mailbags ago, Grottee Metalbeard sent along a peace offering to make up for his HOLY FUCKING SHIT “How to Out-Tirion Tirion” letter, in the form of a Zandalari Tome of Dinomancy that he’d gotten hold of. (I’ll forgive you if you’d missed that detail, since by that point a lot of you were probably like “Oh shit, another Grottee letter, it’s skim time, somebody tell me when it’s safe to come out.”) (Then the universe unleashed Sarlin on us all. Well played, universe. You win again.) My plan was to bring it with me when I head back to Pandaria, along with a team of Kor’kron beastmasters, and have them see if they could make use of it to tame us some new badass military monsters.

Somehow or other, though, Nazgrim got his hands on one of those tomes himself, and decided it was a good idea to take matters into his own hands and have some of his people try to use it themselves, even though the people HE had on hand weren’t Kor’kron beastmasters. They were, in fact, neither Kor’kron NOR beastmasters. Nor competent. Nor in possession, apparently, of an ounce of fucking SENSE, but hey, since when is THAT news when it comes to somebody I have on my payroll not named fucking ME?

So Nazgrim toddled on up to the Isle of Giants with… I don’t know, WHOEVER the fuck he thought would be good to try this with. Some non-Kor’kron non-beastmaster dude. I don’t even think he was a hunter, because, yeah, THAT’S another good idea when you’re trying to tame something. I don’t even know WHAT he was. Just some guy, apparently. Probably named Steve or some shit. ANYWAY. They flew over there, and Nazgrim had one of his people, Generic Red Shirt Moron Steve, try his luck with the Tome of Dinomancy. Oh but also, to add to the shit-tacular brilliance of this plan, they didn’t bother trying things out on any of the smaller, weaker dinosaurs, just to get a feel for the process, because that would just make too much damn SENSE, right? Oh no, old Steve went straight for the big noise — he went right on up to this giant freaking devilsaur that the locals called Oondasta. And, you know, when a dinosaur gets a fucking NAME, you know it’s no joke, right? As if to say, oh, those plain ol’ regular dinosaurs? Pfft, who cares about those? They’re just FUCKING DINOSAURS. But THIS one here? HOO BOY, THIS is the one you have to pay attention to.

So ol’ fucking worthless shithead Steve — who I literally know nothing about other than his existence (and by the way, stay tuned even on THAT front), but who I’m still going to make sweeping dismissive comments about because FUCK THAT IDIOT — he rolled up on Oondasta like he owned the place, and started trying whatever dino-mojo the Tome of Dinomancy had in it. And Oondasta picked up on the dinomancy vibe and came stomping on over, and walked right up to fuckhead Steve, and you know what happened next? THE FUCKING DEVILSAUR LEANED RIGHT DOWN AND SWALLOWED STEVE IN ONE BITE, COMPLETE WITH THE FUCKING TOME, THAT’S WHAT HAPPENED NEXT.

By the way, let me tell you, Nazgrim’s attempt to give an account of that in his report, without making it sound like the total fucking disaster that it was? I don’t know if it was hilarious or fucking sad. It’s a damn good thing he’s a decent field officer, though, because his non-combat decisionmaking? Eesh.

Anyway, though, I would say we’re back to the drawing board, except we really aren’t any worse off than we were before Nazgrim had his little brainstorm. We still have a useful scouting report on the Isle of Giants, and we still have MY Tome of Dinomancy, because unlike some OTHER people I could mention (I’m looking right at YOU, Steve — or I WOULD, if it weren’t for the fact that you’re probably getting ready to get shat out by Oondasta even as we speak), I have enough sense not to go running off unprepared to do some stupid shit. I MAKE SURE I’M PREPARED FOR THE STUPID SHIT I DO, GODDAMMIT.

We’ll just have to pick this up once I get back down there, tome and beastmasters in tow. Let’s keep our fingers crossed that nobody manages to shit the bed on this operation any more than they already have.

More soon.