WRUP: WoW Insider's night at Video Game Orchestra

A little bit of background -- I took my car in for some repairs this week. Just some body work I'd been putting off for a while. And even though Boston isn't a car-friendly town, I'm still missing my baby. I need a car. So ... I came up with a plan. An ingenious plan. And Friday's performance of the Video Game Orchestra -- that would be the plan's cornerstone.

You see, Dan O'Halloran, our boss -- he's something of a notorious free-spirit. He's a high-flying, risk-taking, lol-cat-loving type with a thing for the beautiful Felicia Day. More importantly to our story, though, is the fact that he's got a pretty sweet Kia Sorento. I mean, bucket seats, BLUETOOTH, USB jacks -- the thing's got it all.

I've been dropping hints to Dan all week that Felicia would be at the performance of Video Game Orchestra. Being a predictable beast, Dan would show up and attempt to abduct the fair maiden. And I'd jack his car in the process.

Of course, I'm not heartless enough to put the real Felicia Day in danger. I sent in a ringer. The fairest, long-haired maiden I could find: Mike Sacco. In the right dress, heels, and makeup, the two may as well be twins.

Sacco and I hastily prepared a few numbers from Final Fantasy 6's stirring (yet fictional) opera Maria and Draco. It's a beautiful piece ... but would Sacco remember the words? This would be key -- any slip up and Dan would know something was up for sure.

As Sacco hit the stage, a new wrinkle arose. On the seat next to mine, a note:

"I owe you one, Fox, so I'm gonna jam up your symphony!"

I immediately recognized the handwriting. It belonged to WoW Insider's moonkin blogger Tyler Caraway. Tyler, you see, is a bitter, jealous man. I'm a better writer than he is. And more popular. Better looking, too.

I knew something had to be done. But where was Tyler? What would he do? How could I stop him?

I had to act fast -- the curtain was rising.

"Oh my hero, my beloved,
"Shall we still be made to part,
"Though promises of perennial love
"Yet sing here in my heart?"

Operating under a hunch, I gazed up at the rafters. And, of course, there he was -- the monstrous, hideous Tyler Caraway. Next to him sat a cartoonish-albeit-deadly 4-ton weight. A simplistic and uncreative plan to be sure (what else would you expect from Tyler). Still, it could prove an effective one if I didn't act. Tyler was going to ruin VGO and crush Mike Sacco, all with a push of his disgusting, tentacle-like arm.

"Let's see if Sacco can shrug this off!"

A rush of adrenaline hit my system as I climbed up to the rafters. Thankfully, though, I had time on my side. You see, Tyler is really weak. Like, he's maybe 60 pounds when wet. Dangerously underweight. I'd be legitimately worried for his wellbeing if, well, you know, he wasn't trying to murder Mike Sacco with a 4-ton weight. And though I'm always right and needed no confirmation of the details behind the situation, the always self-narrating Tyler was kind enough to announce his predicament.

"N'ghaaa! This is heavier than I thought! It'll take me 5 minutes to drop it!"

Tyler paused a moment to look at his tiny, tiny arms.

"Well ... okay. Maybe 10."

Dodging a few stray (and surprisingly large) rats on the rafters, I made it to Tyler with time to spare. He lunged at me. I lunged back.

Since I weigh more than a cardboard cutout, Tyler was easily overpowered and knocked back. But the rafters are precarious, and neither of us were sure in our balance. The two of us came crashing down to the stage ... right in the middle of Sacco's performance!

"Disaster!" shouted the impressario! The audience fell silent. Sacco was frozen in fear. I had to do something -- it was up to me to save the day. I'd have to work this into the show.

"I, Fox, the world's premiere shadow priest, will save the fair Sacco!"

"Silence," growled Tyler. "You're in the presence of fluffkin royalty!"

The orchestra took bow to string; the music started to build in intensity. This would be our finest battle.

I quickly began applying my DoTs -- Vampiric Touch, Devouring Plague, and Shadow Word: Pain. Tyler responded in kind -- Moonfire and Insect Swarm. I Mind Flayed. He Wrathed. I was clever and witty, not unlike a modern-day John McClane. He shouted nonsensical throw-away lines, as if we were engaged in a poorly written high school project.

"Imp! Pal! Old Buddy! I'm not your garden-variety boomkin!"

It was a painful performance to be sure. But no where near as painful as my final Mind Blast. Tyler got hit with a brutal 100,000 health crit. Clearly, someone left his resiliance gear back in Ohio.

"What an unlucky day," said Tyler, as if to give the incorrect impression that all his days weren't as sad and unlucky as this. "Adios!"

Tyler scuttled off stage, dragging his bruised ego behind him.

I rushed after Tyler as fast as I could, giving Dan his opening. Using the commotion and confusion as cover, our editor-in-chief grasped Sacco, with full intentions of spiriting him off to that aforementioned Kia Sorento.

"Wait," said Dan, shocked. "You're not Felicia Day!"

The jig was up. But that was fine by me -- I had one hell of a head start out towards the exit. And one hell of a surprise ending in store.

Unfortunately for Dan, you see, this is my WRUP. My story. I have complete creative control. So Dan was ... uh, I dunno, eaten by a shark. A land shark or whatever. Sacco too, I guess. I don't want to write him into the ending. Maybe Mat McCurley was there. With his cat. That sounds like something he'd do.

Anyway.That just leaves me, Fox Van Allen, behind the wheel of a kinda-OK Kia Sorento. I have wheels again. And as for Tyler ... well ... watch your back, kid. Cause I know this little girl, and I'm going to make her draw your picture.