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Ok, maybe my previous post was a little mean. There ain't nothin' wrong with your idea, as a principle. Your approach however...well...let's just say if I wanted to join the brass, I would've done that. As far as Star Citizen is concerned, I'm just plannin' on drinkin' and stinkin' up the place...

*The Average Line Member Joe MacJagoff, lookin’ at his twin, one step ahead in the line…* “Yo, what are we doin’ here?” “Damn if I know. Came here thinkin’ it’s free beer Sunday.” “Who’s that shiny dude in the middle, barkin’ down orders?” “No idea. He ain’t talkin’ to us grunts.” “Can you...

Now, goin' back to the original subject ('cause - no spoiler - that woman scares the crap outta' me), my momma taught me never to say anything 'less it's good, so I ain't got nothin' to say about those nice men playin' with the guns and buildings. Just that...(well, sorry, can't fully restrain...

To be honest, my aim is gettin' kinda' shitty (and that's putting it mildly). However, this situation justifies my favorite approach when it comes to shots: quantity over quality.

Well, I felt a little tickle when I pushed them in, but I'm guessing it was only wishful thinkin', 'cause after that...nothing. After a couple of beers though, I started to feel I was cheated...'cause I saw the time and realized my wife was supposed to be home already. 'S been a week now. No...

Well, they don't fit in your cockpit, that's for sure. Also not in your...hmmm...I think that may be too much information. Some fitting tests are best kept private. Anyway, I've bought the largest ones from electronic access and mounted them with no problems on a Hornet. I'm guessing that at...

Ok, I definitely have to change this moonshine.

*Here we go again.* As James closes the door and pulls down the blinders, Cherokee heads straight to a desk, opens the bottom drawer and liberates a bottle of Scotch. He rolls it in his hand as his eyes linger a bit over the label. “Ye always knew your booze, James!” “Hey, put that down! I’m...

Guess I could also throw some salt and pepper in this soup. Count me in.

Well, since we're sharing, my aim is crap, so I'm always spreading my projectiles all over the walls...errr...place. As in space. Space combat place. I should end this phrase. Anyway, this means I fancy big guns with lots of bullets, shooting fast and overheating slow. I'm talking Panthers...

Anything with an open bar and a toilet ('cause I tend to get stranded in space every time I take my business outside). So far and so on! Now, on a more serious note, I think the variety of classes in your poll is a tad too wide, even if all of them qualify as multi-crew ships. So far I'd pick...

Well, I'd say it doesn't matter on which side of science I am, as long as I'm part of it. Count me in as a TEST subject! I'm under the impression I am the proud owner of the perfect mindset for that position. Ok now...let's see...one shot...two shots...I think you guys are tryin' to get me...

*Guess the best way to say "you're welcome" is by servin’ a follow-up. A short one, for now.* A few hours later – James’ chop shop. Closing time. “You call this ‘fast’, Cherokee?” “Well, I wasn’t exactly close to the station. And I had to wait…for the ‘air’ to clear a bit.” “For the ‘air’ to...

I bet it would be fun to actually hear you say that. For me, at least. You got lucky with that local moonshine. It gets you blind faster than our neighbors' Vodka. On the other hand, it also changes your life...or at least the next 10 years after you pour it down your throat. That's a fact...

And since I'm here again, I'll drink a shot for ya'all who welcomed me. One for each, that is.

Of course you did. We got good booze, beautiful women, and...some other stuff I can't manage to remember. I got a very selective memory. Only retains what's really useful and important.

Anvil Terrapin. Interior. MobiGlas call sound (old style): “Beep…beep…beep…” Cherokee’s laying on the floor, face down, awkward position. A few whiskey bottles spread all around place. Most of them empty. “Beep…beep…beep…” The sound gets louder as he wakes up and slowly opens his eyes...

Oh, you guys are fast. My previous post was regarding Montoya's reply.

That's interesting. Google Translate doesn't give you that answer for "hello".

Where you from stranger? Romania. Yes, it's close to Mother Russia. What drew you to Star Citizen? Heard I can park my scrawny arse in a cool ship. Heard I can can crash it all over the place. Also heard they don't lift your license for drunk driving. Hmmm...speaking of it...where the hell did...