Oh the derieric acid, a foe close to my heart. Upon my birth from the test tube of the chemistry lab, a small vapour of derieric acid attacked my behind, leaving it scarred. Throughout my life, I have grown up with a hideously scarred behind, unable to do such basic activities fundamental to normal nurture. And so, 'tis the reason I have found my self here, conversing with the other members of this topic. Paranoid they called me. Deluded they called me. I believe in one man, and he believed in me, until one day, Wengensford came along, AND RUINED MY LIFE. HE...HE TOOK MY WOMAN! Oh Hann-dawg, where art thou. My life feels empty, my behind hollow (mainly because it actually is). 'Tis my task to relentlessly hunt the foe on our planet, a task only Diane can assist me in completing. Diane, I summon thee.