Submitter Louise writes, "When raid bosses mop the floor with you, when none of your auctions sell, when people can't see beauty in the worgen *coughcough* physique, or when a pandaren uses your helm as a latrine, just sometimes, you have to just stop and go to your happy place. So I packed my finest dress, my mushroom chair and my pal Jacques the beaver and went to my happy place. Well, one of them anyway. It would just be creepy if I mentioned the iron maidens in the Cathedral's basement as one of my happy places!"
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