Last night at work, I came upon Token Boy and Dances With Chickens hunched over a glowing monitor.
"Find a female dwarf. With an axe," commanded Dances With Chickens. "A two-handed axe," she clarified. "No, that one doesn't look drunk enough."
Making fun of avatars is dirty pool. It's like pushing a baby out of a swing - inexcusably heartless, because it's just too easy. Any time a person creates an avatar, he or she is solemnly trusting the forbearance of the rest of the human race. For example, my Second Life avatar is eight feet tall and wears a skin-tight tuxedo. Make of her what you will.
However. Once Token Boy started scrolling through the miniatures representing human wizard characters, I just couldn't resist.
"There's got to be something in here about getting this fucking thing off my hand."
This guy... throws birds at people? That doesn't seem to be a real special power.
"I remember... I remember... clapping."
"Get that Balrog offa my lawn! I'm not cleaning up after that thing again!"
Being a wizard is still no excuse for the pornstache. Plus, this guy's name is Garish MacRae.
Oompa Loompa? or balding Mae West?
"Wait for the light."
"My tumor, let me show you it."
"My pipe wrench, I will smite you with it."
"Where's that can of tuna? I found the opener."
Token Boy's character is a young mage, so he was in the market for a wizard without a beard (and, presumably, without a bird, a can opener, fire instead of hands, or a terrible mustache). This young fellow was the closest thing. Unfortunately, his name is "Marcus Starsong," which I'm pretty sure is D&D code for, "Our community embraces people of all orientations," and, while it's true that role-playing games such as D&D offer people an opportunity to explore personae that they will never inhabit in real life, I don't believe Token Boy is working that particular side of the cobblestoned alley.
Dances With Chickens said, "Not this guy, he's kind of geeky." Right.