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[Issue 59] If the English Community Was a Hotel


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It is a typical Friday afternoon here at the Tankotel. The smell of fresh XT rolls are in the air, quickly making their way to the hotel lobby as if its only purpose is to make potential night-stayers' mouths water. But Remaine, the head chef of the Tankotel, couldn't care less about the guests' feelings.

 

Things are chaotic as usual, what with the members of the Wasps Basketball Team [WBT], having just won the International Disintegration Cup only five hours before, speeding into the hotel almost too fast for the somewhat new concierge GoldRock to check them in correctly. With the guests staying on the RU1st floor constantly calling in to complain about delays with pretty much everything, I think it's safe to say the hotel is having a busy day.

 

But just like every other day, the day eventually ended, along with all the hectic adventures it brought with it. The sun fell behind the tall trees of the hotel garden, just a few hours before the daily hotel clean. All the guests are inconveniently (though only temporarily) kicked out of the hotel, having to wait outside the hotel's front door in the cold night temperatures for about five to ten minutes. At times, on rare and special occasions, the guests are told beforehand that the clean up that night would be delayed an hour or so, but would last for two more hours than usual. In rare events like these, it seems everyone from the hotel temporarily moves to the YouTube Entertainment Centre down the block until the hotel clean up is over. 

 

Nonetheless, in time, the hotel doors automatically unlock. As usual, there's no need for the concierge to motion for guests to enter, as the most eager guests gripping the door handle and pulling on it 100 times a second find the door flies open at last. The guests flood into the hotel lobby, each yelling "FIRST!" after entering, even if clearly second.

Most of the adult tankers break for the elevators to get to bed as fast as possible, but many lose their children at the candy counter area, where the shelves have just been restocked with delicious tankmallows, gummy turrets and many more tasty sweets and candies. Others continue their conversations with tankers whom they began speaking with before the hotel clean up, but who were ever-so-rudely interrupted by the clean up. Soon, the intense chatting floods the lobby once more with tankers continuing as if nothing had happened.

In the far corner of the lobby, it's possible to spot the rare site of female tankers, trying as hard as they possibly can to stay away from the so-called "EN3ers"
currently standing in the centre of the lobby and shouting crazily about their need for girlfriends. Sometimes a rarer site does occur: a male tanker and a female tanker interacting almost normally. It's an astonishing site. How did he, a rusty broken down Hunter M1, get her, a gorgeous M3 Isida with paints glowing in beautiful bright colors? You come to the conclusion that he must have followed some extreme dating guide for desperate tankers, obviously written by some dating expert, and decide to move on and browse the hotel's forum for it later.

 

In the morning, you head down to the main floor of the game room. You find hundreds of battles of all kinds filling quicker than you can say "Tanktopia", with occasional chats between the average ten-year-old Oufa fans, wanting nothing more in life but than to get the M1 Firebird mini-statue from the gift shop on the main floor. Some are even discussing plans to snatch their mother's credit card for a bit to achieve the task.

 

At the far south of the room, near the doorway leading out back into the hall, a mysterious man with a question-mark speech bubble as a head can be spotted. He doesn't usually move, but just when someone begins to spread the word among his friends that the mysterious question-mark man may actually be dead, he assures everyone otherwise by going out on a spree. He quickly enters the crowd of younger tankers with a roll of duck tape, rips off a piece, writing something like "Reason: Spreading rumors of my death. ••-O>>" on it and sticks it over the unfortunate tanker's mouth.
 
Soon, the poor duck-taped guest has the ingenious plan of bringing his brother to the question-mark man so he can rage at him on his behalf, because of course he can't rage at him himself while he's duck taped! The sibling appears and starts complaining loudly, asking what his brother had done to merit such a cruel punishment. The man doesn't reply. He asks again. The man doesn't reply. But finally, when the innocent sibling asks for the third time, the man takes another piece of duck tape, writes "Reason: Provocation. ••-O>>" on it and sticks it on the sibling's mouth.

 

Meanwhile, on the EN3rd floor, guests can be seen pacing up and down the hall, knocking on suite doors asking if there are "any girls" dwelling inside. If there indeed is a female in the hotel suite, the EN3er will not hesitate to ask that girl's hand in marriage. At times, guests are forced to tell all the females in the room to hide before answering the door, because once those girlfriend-hungry guys spot a female they will not rest until they've accomplished their ultimate life goal of obtaining one.

You head back to your suite for a quick seven hour nap. However, to your astonishment, there's a stain on your pillow! You rub your finger against the stain and hold your finger up to your nose... Aha! It smells like cherry-flavored Mammoth Munchies! But you hate Mammoth Munchies... After thinking for a full ten minutes, you choose to believe that the maid, Night-Sisters, must have had a little snack while cleaning your room earlier that day. Hence, you blame the Night Sisters for this fatal error, content with your hypothetical explanation.
 
However, being the lazy person you are, you decide to avoid a day of arguing with the hotel manager, Cedric Debono - mainly because doing so can sometimes lead to run-ins with other, harsher employees such as the question-mark men. Instead, you simply turn the pillow over and let the hypothetical tiny aliens hiding under your pillow feel the stickiness of the candy instead.
 
Seven hours later, you wake up from your short nap and decide to head back downstairs to the game room before dinner. There, you see another, different question-mark man. This one's slightly nerdier than the last one, and you spot him ending his duck-tape notes with "I_F", whatever that means. Anyways, you decide you've had enough of Oufa fans for one day, so you head out to the dinner hall for a delicious Firebird steak (courtesy of Remaine). But on your way you spot a party going on... an in-house event!
 
You decide you've got to see what this is all about, so you head inside. Inside the room, everyone is wearing what must have been their finest white suits. Except one tanker, that is - you see someone in a bright orange suit being told to head up to their suite to change by a random flying fairy in yellow. The guest refuses to change and insists he's most handsome in orange, but he's ignored and very brutally kicked from not only the room but the entire hotel for some time. Who knew parties could have rules other than be back by eleven?
 
Anyways, you don't even own a white suit (I mean, it costs fifty whole crystals!) so you decide to leave before the flying fairy notices you ever entered. I guess you'll never know what all that was about, after all.
 
You head straight to dinner. You're starving and your mouth is watering just thinking about those steaks. You arrive at the dinner hall and you're pleasantly greeted by the waiter, who just so happens to be the average Russian folk whom you don't understand.
 
"Здравствуйте! Я надеюсь, что вы испытываете хороший вечер. Чем я могу тебе помочь?" he asks you, but of course you don't get what he's saying at all.
 
"Ho.. Hol.. Hold on one sec." You tell him, holding your index finger up to him with one hand while trying to get out your phone with another.
 
After what seems like two awkward minutes you, get your phone out and motion to him to speak into it. He does and like magic, an app called Tankoole Translator translates what he says almost perfectly. After less than ten minutes of back and forth translating, you finally order the Firebird steak.
 
The steak arrives and you gobble it up in minutes, almost forgetting to tell everyone sitting around you how good it is. But thankfully, you catch yourself and do indeed brag once or twice (or thrice). After about five steaks you decide you've had enough food, so with that thought in mind, you thank the waiter and thumbs-up Remaine on his awesome cooking, but he just grunts at you. Nonetheless, you take that as a "you're welcome" and head off to your suite.

As usual, the elevator doors slide apart, clearing the way for you to enter. On the way up, you re-experience all the unique sensations of each floor. Passing the RU1st floor, the elevator stops for a second, but the noise tells you it's already full of tankers and the elevator starts up again a moment later. At the EN3rd floor, you hear people knocking on doors, with occasional door-slamming as an argument breaks out. On the PL1st floor, you hear chatting, although none in Polish (oddly enough).

 

You get to your suite on the DE2nd floor (it was cheap, we don't blame you). You take a shower, brush your teeth, get into your football pajamas dotted with cute Vulcan/Wasps, answer a few messages on the forum and then you're off to bed. You leap into bed and cuddle under your blanket, preparing to dream the sweetest of dreams. You close your eyes, shift a bit to the right to get that perfect comfortable position and...

 

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Here we go again...

 

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~ @Yisroel.Rabin

 

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Edited by Hexed
  • Like 31

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YisNug's first article much likez n subsckribez. so pro signiture 2oo.

I prefer Robrot over YisNug, thank you very much. It sounds more... high technical.

 

#shamelessadvertisement

#blametheNS

#strongisthrnewcute

#cthulhuFforpres2k16

That third one is a bit confusing.

 

Superb job mate, quality piece of work. No mean feat with this kind of writing, managed to keep interest throughout

Thanks, I found it on someone's blog. Please, don't tell anyone.

 

 

No, but seriously, gracias (that's Latin for thank you), it means a lot coming from you. (bow)

 

 

 

These entertainment pieces are rare, love it!

Thanks, I love em' too. :P

Edited by Yisroel.Rabin

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:lol:  I couldn't stop laughing...

 

Thanks, I found it on someone's blog. Please, don't tell anyone.

 

 

No, but seriously, gracias (that's Latin for thank you), it means a lot coming from you. (bow)

By the way, I'm pretty sure that's Japanese, not Latin.

Edited by Yisroel.Rabin
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At the far south of the room, near the doorway leading out back into the hall, a mysterious man with a question-mark speech bubble as a head can be spotted. He doesn't usually move, but just when someone begins to spread the word among his friends that the mysterious question-mark man may actually be dead, he assures everyone otherwise by going out on a spree. He quickly enters the crowd of younger tankers with a roll of duck tape, rips off a piece, writing something like "Reason: Spreading rumors of my death. ••-O>>" on it and sticks it over the unfortunate tanker's mouth.

 

Soon, the poor duck-taped guest has the ingenious plan of bringing his brother to the question-mark man so he can rage at him on his behalf, because of course he can't rage at him himself while he's duck taped! The sibling appears and starts complaining loudly, asking what his brother had done to merit such a cruel punishment. The man doesn't reply. He asks again. The man doesn't reply. But finally, when the innocent sibling asks for the third time, the man takes another piece of duck tape, writes "Reason: Provocation. ••-O>>" on it and sticks it on the sibling's mouth.

I see it like this:

 

" ... At the far south of the room, from the doorway leading out back into the hall, a mysterious man with a question-mark speech bubble as a head just stepped in. He merely spoke to someone when, at the sound of his voice, at least a dozen people that roamed around turned their heads and immediately started approaching him, asking from afar a bunch of questions which ranged from price and layouts of rooms, the quality of the room service and info about the breakfast menu to details of gift shop sales, working hours of the management and the location of the toilet. Poor guy barely managed to answer one person when the other stepped in front of him, demanding immediate attention and a third one tried to jump over both while many more were pushing through, constantly raising voices. One girl was fidgeting, saying something about question marks being so handsome while the other was visibly swooned at the mere look from him. Soon a crowd of some 15-20 people was standing around the guy, pulling his coat and bombarding him with questions or simply wanting to be acknowledged. A couple of people at the far back of the room started laughing and mocking very agitated bystanders and the atmosphere was quickly changing for worse, with more voices rising in anger and frustration. Upon seeing that, the man quickly stepped through the crowd and took a hold of one of the guys in the back, politely asking him to calm down or leave the room. After a couple of moments and several snidely thrown insults towards the rest of the people in the room, the whole party got their mouths duck-tapped for the effort, with the clear reason "Insults, profanity" printed on it. In more relaxed atmosphere the man with the question mark proceeded to answer questions while forwarding some of the guests to the info booth and others towards the hostess with the huge sign "Wiki" printed on her back. Half an hour passed before the room started emptying... he began informing the rest that his shift is over and that they can get further information at the reception desk of the hotel. Right then the friends of those that have been punished arrived, complaining loudly. They tried to cause the commotion, asking what their friends had done to deserve punishment, all the while asking for the credentials from the guy - he took a moment, looked at them calmly before replying that they have to check in with his boss in the office upstairs. The party stormed out, racing towards the stairs. Taking one last look around, ensuring that everything else is in order, the man turned on his heels and left the room. "

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I didn't want to lie about or over exagerate the difficulty level of the chat moderater position, hence your Great Wall of China of a text is not in the main post.

 

c: ok i joke u guys work too hard, take a break and visit mars, weather good there.

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"One girl was fidgeting, saying something about question marks being so handsome while the other was visibly swooned at the mere look from him."

:D

 

This actually happens?

 

Bear in mind though, that the whole article was a comedy anyway, and wasn't meant to reflect exactly about what actually occurs in the EN Community. No one was trying to water down the importance of your role as a Chat Moderator.

 

Don't take unnecessary offense :)

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