It was morning in the Americas and Chief was still hung-over from a late night with the Great Spirit. What started with a harmless game of "Strip Darts'....
Quickly turned into a party....
But where was I.... oh Yes, The Chief was startled from his slumber as a sharp pain shot through his body and his arms became overwhelmed with goosebumps.
"What is it? Come back to Bed" said The Great Spirit.
"I wish I could. But your people need me. No...... Our People need me." he Replied.
And with that the Chief threw on his Trusty Fisherman's coat and followed the whispers of the trees to the site of the injustice.
An innocent Treaty Payer called to the Tribe as his city lay under siege by Judaism and his merry band of naked alts. The Chief immediately pursued the Villain when he logged off. So the Tribe did what the Tribe does in such situations.
But just then the merry band of alts launched a full scale assault and the Chief was busy slaying the army one by one!
In the heat of the battle the Chief noticed that Judaism had escaped his cage. But he had not gotten far. Judaism, knowing that he had power from the days before The Great Famine agreed to engage the Chief in his weakened humour state in mortal combat. And a battle was waged..... A 1400 Humour Titan vs. a less than 800 Chief...... All odds were against the Chief.... All gear, humours, and logic favored a victory by the criminal who so ruthlessly plagued the lands. One day the light of this Chief will be extinguished.... But Today was not that day. Justice did what justice does in the lands of Salem... it prevailed.
And thus is the story of why one does not simply...."***** the Tribe".
Chief PeePooKaKa
MM Tribe
