Hiya everyone! I've been wanting to vent my comedic urges for some time, and this is the means by which I plan to do so. I don't know whether anyone is going to find this funny, so it might not continue very far. Atm, its just an experiment. I hope you all enjoy! Reviews, whether they consist of hate or not, are appreciated! Praise the Sun! \o/

Exclusive tonight! Interview with a Darkroot ganker! Only on Lordran TV!

The man straightened in his seat, feeling unsurprisingly uncomfortable as his name blazed across millions of TV screens worldwide. A wave of nausea threatened to tide him over as he imagined the sound of thousands of in-game keyboards clattering in unison, and the rythmic thuds of countless hate mails landing in his inbox. He closed his eyes, as if to bar the darkness that clouded them from public view, but then he remembered the wooden mask that concealed him, and he took a calming breath, and tried to settle down.

"Good evening to everyone in our studio audience!" Shiva of the East called enthusiastically, flashing the nearby camera a knowing smile. "And welcome to Inquisition Time! Today, we will be toasting a quote-on-quote "ganker", who has agreed to take a break from his busy schedule in Darkroot Forest to come and talk to us today. He tells us he hopes he will shed his profession in a better light for us! What do you think?"

This led to a unanimous boo from the various audience members. Artorias the Abysswalker stood up from his seat and yelled "Filthy scum!", before throwing an empty Estus flask towards the stage. It narrowly missed the gankers' head, clattering off to the side and disappearing from view.

When the noise had died down, Shiva cleared his throat, and brought the proceedings to a start. "So, Mr. 720NoScopeOwnYourAssMMII, would you mind telling us a little about yourself?"

The man looked around nervously as every eye in the building bore into him. "Uh, I'm a Level 120 Thief class. I started with the Master Key..."

"As you do," Shiva interrupted.

"When I was Level 50, I went to the Catacombs and joined the Gravelord Servants."

A disparaging groan echoed around the room. Several people Looked Skyward.

"Settle down!" Shiva cried. "You'll all get your chance, I promise! Now, when did you first become aware of the Forest?"

"I was going to join the Forest Hunters, when-"

"As you do."

"When I was invaded by a blue phantom. I'd forgotten I was human."

"Rookie mistake," the Undead Merchant whispered to the hollow sitting next to him, whose mouth was open absently and drooling.

"And what happenned?" Shiva enquired.

"Well, I tried to run-"

"You'll never be able to run far enough..."

"I ended up falling into a pit, surrounded by enormous, bloodthirsty cats. Then another invader jumped in. It was all geting a little out of hand."

"And what did you do?" Shiva said calmly, before standing up abruptly and looming over the ganker. "Did you disconnect, you pussy fagit?"

The ganker shook his head profusely. "No, I swear!"

"I think you're a liar. What do you folks think?"

The crowd roared their agreement. A Berenike knight began a mexican wave that travelled all the way down his row.

"No, I didn't!" the ganker yelled. "The first invader TWOP'd me, while the second continously stole humanity from me."

Almost instantly, the crowd were silent. Tranquil Walk of Peace was no joke. A few of them even shed tears as they remembered their own despair at seeing the soul-crushing miracle cast. Even Shiva was unusually quiet.

"Then what happenned?" he asked.

"When they got bored, they pushed me down the ladder, and then spammed Dark Bead at me in a corner until my endurance died. Along with the rest of me."

"And was that when you realised what you wanted to do with your life?"

The ganker looked down, and nodded glumly.

"Okay. We're going to show you a few pictures now. I want you to describe what you are seeing in the pictures. Are you ready?"

After he had nodded once more, Shiva seized a remote in his hand, and turned on a PowerPoint on the back wall. The audience were able to see the images on television screens all around the studio.

"Here's the first one. Tell us any feelings which come up."

The screen flickered, and there was a zoomed image of a small, metal ring, engraved with the insignia of a wasp-like insect. The ganker froze to the spot as he heard the scrutiny of audience members kick off once more.

"Well. What is it?" Shiva asked patiently.

The ganker swallowed hard. His throat was so dry, he felt like he'd swallowed a stone. "A Hornet Ring."

"That's a confession!" Alvina screeched from her seat upon Artorias' lap.

"No it isn't!" the ganker insisted. "I always use the Wolf Ring and the FaP ring."

"That's a pretty standard PvP setup," Kirk nodded to Leeroy, who was shaking his head and muttering.

"Right," Leeroy countered. "A Fast Roll, Poise-backstabbing setup. What a casul."

"Now, the next one," Shiva said.

The screen changed, and now the ring was replaced by an image of a scroll. On the scroll was a large, white blast flying outward. Everyone in the room recognised it. A few muttered their approval; most, however spat on the floor.

"Wrath of the Gods," the ganker replied with his eyes squeezed shut. No mask could hide the sweat that was running down his face now.

"I see you are familiar with this miracle. What is your faith stat?"

"32."

"So you are able to use it then."

"Yes." Little more than a squeak.

"Interesting. But do you?"

"Just as insurance!" the ganker squealed. "In case of a hacker."

"I'd like to draw your attention to the number count in the top right corner. Can you read it for me?"

The ganker was feeling ill. "No."

"It says 6, Mr. 720NoScopeOwnYourAssMMII. 6."

"That means New Game Plus, bitches," a burly man in full giants and a Fathers mask said, his arms wide in disapproval.

"Moving on to the next one now," Shiva said. "Do you recognise this man?"

On the screen there was a red phantom carrying a Falchion in two hands. The weapon was coated in a thick, bluish glisten. A Grass Crest shield hung loosely on his back.

The change in the ganker was immediate. He began to grip the arms of his chair so tightly he thought they would burst. Of course he recognised him. It was the most feared GankSpanker in Lordran.

"It's Oroboro," Shiva answered for him, tired of waiting. "On the 22nd of February, a message was received in his mailbox, sent by you. We're going to show it to you now. I'm going to read it, and then give you some time to defend yourself. Agreed?"

The ganker did not agree, but he had no choice.

"Y dnt U git gud, fagit," Shiva began, his reading glasses now perched upon his nose. "U jst use two-handed R1 spam buff. I can beat ur ass any day. Stop hacking. Go shit urself nd die."

Any sympathy held for the ganker over his Dark Bead experience was now long forgotten. Several Royal Scarecrows in the audience gripped their Plows tighter.

"It goes on," Shiva sighs. "Fagit cnt mofo suk my CENSORED. Fackn sht mate. Y don't u CENSORED my CENSORED. 1v1 in real life, fagit... I'm sorry, I can't read any more, or else we'll be cut off. What do you say?"

The ganker had lost all sense in his body. "I didn't send that..."

Shiva raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"It must have been 720NoScopeOwnYourAssMMI..."

Shiva shuffled his papers. 'Yes, of course... Anyway. We have one more picture. Are you ready? This one is quite disturbing, so be aware."

The screen changed, and there stood the ganker, in full battle armour. He wore the Havel's Torso and Gauntlets, the Hollow Warrior Skirt and the Mask of the Mother. In his hands he held a Great Club, alight with yellow sparks which could only have been Sunlight Blade. His left hand was pointed at the ground, where a blue phantom was disintegrating, having received a mortal blow.

A gasp chorused around the room, followed by one of the most vicious uproars in the show's history. Halberds were snapped over knees, Homing Crystal Soulmasses were cast, and Dragonslayer Spears were forged. The ganker leapt up and cried "This is slander!"

Shiva shook his head. "This image comes from a reliable source. It is you. Care to explain the Hornet Ring symbol in the top left?"

The ganker tried to get up and leave, but a Silver Knight bouncer came over and kicked him back into his seat.

"We're going to open the floor to questions now," Shiva said, quietly excited for his favourite part of the show. "Firstly, you sir! You in the dashing hat!"

Pharis blushed at the compliment. "Yeah, I was wondering why gankers always kill me first when they set up shop in the Forest. I mean... why? I'm just an archer!"

The ganker Shrugged. "You don't respawn."

"Racism!" Solaire shouted, seizing a Lightning Spear in his left hand.

"Next question. Anyone?" Shiva pointed to a man who was waiting patiently with his hand up straight.

"Yeah, I was wondering what you thought of the changes in Dark Souls II. You know, temporary summons and all that..."

"Is that a sensible question?" Shiva asked inquisitively.

"I suppose so..."

"THEN FUCK THAT SHIT!" The Eastern Warrior proclaimed, his Murakomo unsheathed and hungry for blood. "Anyone else? Oh, yes, you there with the teeth."

The Mimic crossed his elongated arms defensively. "They're fingers, actually, but whatevs. What's your deal with Lloyds Talismans? You know, how you shit yourself and roll around like a pansy Bonewheel Skeleton whenever one comes your way."

The Ganker eyed up the talking treasure chest with hatred. "I could ask you the same question, Sleepyhead."

The Mimic leapt to his feet. "Hold me back! HOLD ME BACK!" No 'one bothered, so he simply sighed and retracted his limbs back inside his mouth, cursing and muttering.

Shiva looked at the clock on the wall and snapped into action. "Sorry everyone, but it seems were almost out of time. It's a bit convoluted around here, so we need to set up for Cooking with Smough a couple of hours ahead of schedule. But first, how about we spin the wheel?"

The audience cheered and jeered in equal measures. The Ganker looked alarmed. "What do you mean?"

"We are going to spin the Wheel of Fortune to decide your fate."

"Wait, this wasn't in the-"

"HERE WE GO FOLKS!"

The brightly-coloured wheel was set in motion, and every eye in the room revolved asymmetrically to follow its dizzying trajectory. With five seconds to go, the Ganker was destined to an Iron Flesh Manus fight. At three seconds, his future lay in the Titanite pit in Sen's Fortress. At last, the wheel stopped, and so did the Gankers heart.

"It's Bed of Chaos Calamity Ring everybody!"

The fateful decision had been made, and the audience were horridly gleeful by the gruesome outcome. Ornstein had started a chant of "Git gud!", which was now echoing all around the room.

"Git gud!"

"Git gud!"

"Git gud, you fckin faggit!" The Demon Firesage was, predictably, the most heated of the lot.

Shiva stood up from his chair with his microphone in-hand, and began chanting the end-show announcements. "And that's all for today, folks. Tune in tomorrow at the usual time, where we will be interviewing Kalameet on the loss of his wife, and his tail."

There was a hissing sound as the hydraulics below the gankers feet began to grind and splutter into life. The black and orange ring had been fused onto his finger, and now a red cloud hovered above his head; the symbol of his punishment. He made one last panicked attempt to stand up, but realised that he had been TWOP'd, and could barely make it out of the seat before the ground disappeared. The Bed of Chaos Boss theme began to play all around the studio. Several Dung Pies followed the gankers descent into the writhing mass of tentacles that awaited below, most of them thrown by Shiva himself, who was taking great joy in the activity.

"See you all next time. This Shiva with his SWAG Cleaver, signing off!"

The final, spine-wrenching cries of the ganker as his soul was mercilessly crushed were muffled by the cheery jingle of the advertisements that had begun to play.

"Inquisition Time is sponsored by Gough's Greeting Carvings. A soulless emotion for every occasion!"