It is not my birthday, and I cannot eat my enemies.
Even if I is my birthday, I cannot devour the bodies of my slain enemies.
The appropriate response to an olive branch is not to snap-kick the giver.
My contract does not include decapitation of my manager as a "severance package."
Self: Meltrans are already culture shocked, except their response is to squeal like high school girls at a boy band concert and discharge energy weapons in random directions.Weirdo: Sounds like the proper reaction to a Macross Cannon to me.
And of course if even a single Constitution had shown up onscreen for even a single second, you would have been able to hear the mass squeeing from orbit.
I am no longer allowed to provide an in-game soundtrack by having my MechWarrior plug his iPod into his 'Mech's external speakers.Similarly, I am no longer allowed to define ten tons of Communications Equipment as "The Inner Sphere's Largest Subwoofer." Or "Speakers so loud they blow Elemental's BattleArmor off."
Reality and Battletech go hand in hand like a drug induced hallucination and engineering a fusion reactor ;-)
I'm not allowed to point behind someone and shout "Look, a distraction!" before punching them in the face/stabbing them/shooting them/setting them on fire/running away.
I'm not allowed to use aerosol laxatives on enemy infantry positions.