Well, the good news is that I DID still have my warranty papers from Gazlowe, from when his people worked construction on the new, (seemingly) improved, post-Cataclysm Orgrimmar. The bad news is that the warranty also included a whole mess of fine print. Like a Tirion-esque volume of text, only micro-sized. And let me tell you, there is no fine print like goblin fine print — I don’t know what gadget they used to shrink that printing down so small, but from the look of it, someone must have typed up the laundry list of disclaimers and conditions, highlighted all, set the font size to ONE FUCKING POINT, then zapped the whole damn page with some kind of crazy-ass Micro-Zoom TeenC WeenC Shrink Ray for good measure. And you might read that and try to laugh it off, but when I got Spazzle over here to look at this thing and made the same comment to HIM, he was all “Hang on, who told you about the TeenC WeenC ray?!” So there you go.

Anyway, finding the paperwork didn’t do me a fat lot of good. I tried setting up a face-to-face with Gazlowe about this shit, because I figured I wanted this crap settled before I leave town again, some kind of make-good new construction or whatever, but apparently dude couldn’t even be bothered to show up personally. He sent some other joker named Rezlak to pop in on his behalf, because apparently the trip from Ratchet all the damn way to Orgrimmar would just be too much on his bunions or whatever. And evidently the verdict was that the massive construction project his people got paid for wasn’t under warranty because of like nine random technicalities buried in the fine print, like I didn’t use the right color quill when I signed the contract or the sandwich he had for lunch last Thursday didn’t have fucking mustard on it. Or something.

Now, mind you, as anyone (who has a genuine desire to keep breathing) will tell you, I’m not an unreasonable person… so I tried to make Rezlak a counterproposal to see what he’d have to say about it, but seeing as the counterproposal pretty much consisted of me punching him in the mouth, all he really had to say about it was “ouch.”

Gee, I sure do hope his fillings were still under warranty.