The Bathsheba Family

[Ash]

_______

To the untrained eye, the communicator hat might just look like a paper cone. That's what we want you to believe. The communicator hat is in fact a highly sophisticated piece of technology designed to keep Boofa out of our minds whilst simultaneously enabling us to get closer to Flarg.

Core Materials:

• Paper outside 
  • To keep inconspicuous
• Foil ball stuffed in the inside of the peak of the cone 
  • To focus our energies to communicate with Flarg
• Foil lining on the inside 
  • To protect against Boofa trying to read our mind 
• Tape 
  • So it doesn’t fall apart
  • To stick all Flargs love together
• Markers
  • To write “D.U.N.C.E” on the front for branding
    • Dangerously
    • Unstable
    • Nuclear
    • Cap
    • Enhancements

Optional Stat Enhancers:

• Secret compartment between foil lining and paper outside
  • To store Enchantment powder*
• Glitter
  • To sparkle so Flarg notices you more

*Note: “Enchantment powder” = crack
_______

The plan is simple:
We take Scoobie’s car,
Go to Weazel, grab paper,
Go to PD, grab fingerprint tape,
Go to Bayview, grab foil
Go to SD, grab markers,
Go to church,
Have a nice cold crack drop,
And wait for Flarg's apocalypse to blow over.

Wizard Prophet Scoobie Bathsheba: The mastermind behind the plan

The gang arrived at Weazel News Headquarters as with all the newspapers they put out into the city, they must have some paper going spare to kindly donate to the Bathshebas to make communicator hats. 

However, relations with the employees of Weazel News are not very good at this moment in time due to Travis Rashguard scamming Wizard Prophet Scoobie Bathsheba out of money that was meant to be for adverts for last week's church service.

Instead of asking them we decided that Scoobie would distract Travis at the Weazel News gates whilst mason infiltrated the office. He made it inside and scoured the draws and cabinets for any blank, loose paper he could find. 

Mason, being the kind fellow that he is, at least left an “I O U” note on the desk on his way out.

The grand plan was to go to the Mission Row Police Department and convince one of the officers there to donate some of their fingerprint tape to us as without the tape, the whole plan was doomed.
It was a poor mistake on our part to expect the LSPD to do anything to help us, being the biggest Boofa worshippers in the entire city. We were denied our request and they all rushed off (not before one of them crashing into Scoobie & Mason’s communicator vehicles).

The Bathshebas do not stop at the first hurdle, there is always a backup plan and today that came in the form of Los Santos Customs. Now, all Bathshebas are banned from LSC so we had to make this a quick in-and-out job. 
A few of us rushed into the workshop and were promptly told to leave but we had the numbers on our side, 4x Bathsheba vs 2x LSC mechanic. We split up around the shop and searched everywhere we could for any form of tape.

Samoa came in clutch and grabbed some scotch tape, stuck it down his pants and we all made a bolt for it before the LSPD showed up that the LSC employees called.

Here at the Bathsheba Family, we always try to go down the non-violent approach when possible and look for PG-13 options!

Heist #3 was probably in the middle in terms of difficulty for the Bathshebas to pull off, we were greeted with open arms by a man Wizard Prophet Scoobie knew and were invited into the break room of Bayview Mechanics to get a roll of foil.

THEN IT STRUCK - THE AGENT OF BOOFA

Someone claiming to be higher ranking than the one who was welcoming us began to order us out of the room. Luckily there was enough of us to keep him distracted whilst Scoobie made the deal to ‘borrow’ some foil. We got a full roll of it under the promise we return the excess. 

To spite the agent of Boofa we also yoinked a spray can because f*ck him.

We made our way from Bayview to Los Santos Sheriff's Department and wandered around the hallways looking for someone to inquire about ‘borrowing’ some markers. We found an officer seemingly locked in the Armory, he was extremely unhelpful and kept saying “help” like a baby so we took our business elsewhere.

Kourtney with a K from the Department of Corrections was infinitely more useful than the child in LSSD, we approached the front desk of the prison as Mason had seen Kourtney with a sharpie in his last trip to the prison.
Kourtney has proved time and time again she is standing with the Bathshebas even though she’s not a true believer enough to change her surname, she attends our churches, looks after our family members when in prison and helps us in our high-priority missions like this one.

_______

_______

Once all of the pieces were successfully collected and the Heist was complete, the group headed back to the church of Flarg. Scoobie instructed Mason to lead the craft session and show the others how it is done and construct the first Communicator Hat. 

Mason’s recent trauma (keep an eye out here for “MasonVision” to find out what recently happened to Mason) made it difficult for him to cut out the correct shape from the paper but he persevered with the power of Flarg and constructed the communicator hat. After lining the hat with foil, taping it together and adding the “DUNCE” on the front he was all ready to present this hat to a new Bathsheba at the next church session. 

Edited February 28, 2021 by DrPathetic

[Jorge Compass]

 

Samoa was a troubled young man who was born in Hawaii. His family had a small amount of money and could hardly meet ends. Growing up with his brother, they often caused mayhem. Due to the lack of funds incoming to the family Samoa decided to adapt to what he had; deciding to begin committing petty crime such as pickpocketing. He was never caught.

 

Hawaii was a busy place, especially for tourists. Every day Samoa would see several foreigners driving luxury cars with deluxe clothing, typically Americans. Everyday he would relax near the beach, peering at the people living in luxury... Wishing he could be like them one day. After a year of questioning himself, he decided to buy a plane ticket to Washington DC, in hopes eventually he could be living in luxury as well.

 

Promptly after moving to Washington Samoa began to run out of funds, he eventually decided to enlist in the navy. After a few years in the navy as well as months of dwelling training, he joined the Seal Team. Samoa served 10 years in the team and survived countless large scale operations. Eventually, he was dishonourably discharged and received a criminal record after gunning down an unarmed civilian in his final operation out of anger and spite.

 

After serving a 15 year sentence in prison he eventually moved to Los Santos, with nobody to turn to he decided to take on a life of crime. Initially starting off with taking small increments of low class drugs, Samoa eventually began to take Crack to ease his reality. One day whilst chilling at bayview he had stumbled across Wizard Prophet Scoobie Bathsheba, who would go on to teach Samoa the way of Flarg. After a small discussion with Scoobie, he told Samoa some information regarding “Flarg” and their religion of The Bathshebas. Samoa saw this as a great opportunity to continue his life in Los Santos and possibly rip them off from crack which he was destined to receive

(to be updated weekly)

Edited February 28, 2021 by Jorge Compass

[Kazjii]

Be on the lookout for more Bathsheba character stories  Coming soon

[Doan]

 

 

Edited March 2, 2021 by Doan

[tylxrrr]

 

 

"Do it...Do it", I hear behind me, followed by the giggling and laughter of my classmates. I feel something soft and textured hit the back of my afro and drop onto the old creaky floorboards of Ms. Williams' classroom. The sound of the laughter echoed throughout the room. I peered under my desk and looked past my worn out sneakers to see a crumpled up piece of paper lying on the floor. I quickly picked it up and looked behind me to be greeted by a group of boys smiling mischievously at me. I let out a sigh before opening up the crumpled sphere.

I started to feel the tears beginning to roll down my cheek as I stared at the piece of paper. The laughter of my classmates grew louder. “Alright...alright class, settle down now”, Ms. Williams echoed. I quickly crumpled the piece of paper and stuffed it into my pocket. “Are you alright, Milton?”, Ms. Williams said with her eyes fixed on my tears. I glanced at the boys behind me and they returned a fierce gaze. “Yeah, I’m fine...I just got something in my eye”, I replied. “Do you need to go to the nurse?”, she asked. I shook my head no and she began class.

 

“Today, we are going to be learning about long division”, she echoed. I stared blankly at the green chalkboard as Ms. Williams scribbled meaningless math on it. “One day, I will leave this garbage town”, I thought. My eyelids began to fall at the thought of a new life and everything went dark.

 

The ringing of the bell woke me at once. I slipped into my coat and dashed out of the school. Snow blanketed the streets and sidewalks of Chicago. Each time I exhaled, a puff of smoke would appear in the frigid air. The snow crunched under my sneakers as I began my walk home. I did my usual look around to make sure no one was trying to mug me when I noticed a few classmates behind me. I let out a deep sigh and the crunching of the snow sped up as I began to walk faster. I glanced behind me and the same group of boys began to walk faster as well.

 

“Milton! We just want to play!”. The snow crunched at a steady yet fast rate as I ran down the sidewalk. “Fuck”, I thought. The grinding of the snow behind me grew louder and louder.

 

Almost instantaneous, my face felt wet and cold followed by a sharp pain in my ribcage. “Ahhh”, I yelped. I turned over on my back to see the group of boys hovering over my body. “Where do you think you’re going?”, one of the boys said with a smirk before striking my ribcage. I tried to scream but nothing seemed to come out. I stared up at the white sky as tears came down my cheek and froze. I felt powerless as the boys repeatedly punched and kicked my lifeless body. Darkness seemed to take over my eyesight and everything fell quiet.

 

“Sir...sir, your boarding pass please”, the woman at the desk said. “Oh, sorry”, I replied. I took a look at the boarding pass and smiled before handing it to her. She took the boarding pass and briefly looked over it. “Happy travels, Mr. Perkins”, she said. “I hope so too”, I said with a smile and walked through the gate. “A new beginning”, I thought.

 

[PickNic]

                                                          

 

Cletus was startled awake by the sound of clinking bottles and a loud thud. The floor of the RV shook, similar to that of a small earthquake, and a loud groan followed with it. He covered his ears, with the Transformers-pillow he got for his 8th birthday, to drown out the noise. 

 

"It was the best present I’d ever received. I saw it in a magazine at a gas station, and I wouldn’t stop begging for it. On one of the few good days my father had, he got it for me and told me that it was for my birthday. “There you go, son. Happy birthday.”, he said with the lingering smell of unbrushed teeth and alcohol coming out of his mouth. He handed me the pillow, gave me a pat on the back, and walked away. My birthday is in July, he bought it for me in February."

 

 

                                                          

 

 

Cletus' typical morning was being woken up by how loud his father always was, whether it was him yapping to himself or the loud stomping to the floor. His mother worked too much to care about it, or care about anything at all. He felt like a parent to his own parents. He had to clean up after them, especially after his father. Not only was his father bad at handling his alcohol, he was bad at keeping it down too.

 

The smell in the tiny RV is still ingrained in Cletus' brain; all kinds of liquors, body odor, old food and unwashed dishes, you name it. He thinks the smell might’ve damaged some parts of his brain… Maybe that’s why he failed 3rd grade’s math, 4th grade’s math, 5th grade’s math, and all the other maths after that. He failed all the other subjects in school too for that matter. But the damage to his brain could’ve also been the result of his father beating him every night.

 

 

                                                          

 

 

School was definitely not his thing. He never did any of his assignments, unless you’d call getting into fights assignments. He was always picked on by his classmates for his weight, until they needed to get picked up from the ground after he knocked them out. His size really came in handy for the after-school fistfights. The fights were the reason he got expelled, along with the fact that he wasn’t doing any schoolwork.

 

 

 

 

                                                          

 

 

After getting expelled, he had nothing to do. He hated being around his parents, with his dad being drunk out of his mind all the time, and his mother not even being able to look him in the eyes when speaking to him. There was no reason for him to stay anymore. He packed everything he owned, which fit into a small trash bag. Before he stepped out of the RV, he dropped the trash bag onto the ground, made his way into the bathroom where his father was, and gave him a big fat punch to the face. He quickly ran away, picked the trash bag up, and left the RV. Making his way to the city of Saints: Los Santos.

 

 

                                                          

 

 

After arriving in the city of Los Santos, Cletus was lost and didn’t know where to go from that point, he went to prison a few times, got drunk, stole cars, the whole nine yards. One day he was reading up on a family named the Bathshebas on his phone through the Lifeinvader App. He sent a text message to an individual of the name of Wizard Prophet Scoobie Bathsheba explaining how he was interested in the family. Cletus changed his last name and joined the Bathshebas after a few days. It was the first time Cletus really felt loved and had the feeling of family. This is where his story will continue, no one knows how this will plan out in the future for Cletus, but he is hoping for the best.

 

 

[MistNinja]

i don't know what to think of this but thats some weird stuff going on

[Kazjii]

Flarg newswire for the month of march will be coming up soon. Follow the thread and keep track! 

[Doan]

[Kazjii]

Keep eyes peeled for the next bathsheba newsletter! Big one this month!

[Ash]

It was a casual Wednesday afternoon in Los Santos for Mason Bathsheba, going around the city doing his duties to Flarg. Spreading the word to non-believers, when he had the bright idea use some of his new found cash to get hold of some Enchantment Powder (literally crack) for the other Bathshebas, he believed this would get him some favor with the leaders of the group in the next church session so he got info on where some drug labs were from Samoa Laei Bathsheba and went cruising around to see if he could find a supplier.

A few close calls later with some shifty individuals he came across a woman talking to a few people about collecting weed for her at one of the labs. Mason sparked up a conversation with this woman and expressed his interest in buying some enchantment powder from her and she was very happy to oblige and meet Mason in an hour to make a deal.

“$1,000 per crack seems like a bargain” - Mason thought to himself, not having any clue about the price of drugs in the city.

Mason met this new acquaintance “Livvy” at a parking lot once she had finished creating the Enchantment Powder and the two of them made a deal in her car where he pulled out the wad of cash from his ceremonial bathrobe and handed it to her and received the crack. Mason inspected the product after getting back into his own vehicle and thought:
“Hmmm I wonder...”

The other Bathshebas seem to like crack so much, just one won’t hurt would it? After all, might as well see what all the hype is about with all the criminals talking about it. “I’ll just have the one try in a safe space” he told himself as he’d heard about “bad trips” and made his way to a happy place: The old Epsilon Program headquarters.

As he’d made his way to the top of the building, overlooking the mansion of a headquarters, reminiscing of old times he prepared the crack and before he could doubt himself, took it.

He started to see things, see things in a way he’d never seen them before. The powerful and elusive drug was now entering his system. He felt euphoria rushing through his system and all of his senses felt heightened for a brief moment. Memories hit him from his time in the Epsilon Program up to his time in the Bathshebas and all the other cults he had joined to scam money from them. Neon lights beaming from the Epsilon Program Logo on the side of the building were blinding. This was an issue, he suddenly lost his footing from the side of the building, this building was not much of a safe place anymore as he hurtled down the side of the building, crashing into the floor whilst being as high as a UFO.

Blood went everywhere, he passed out with his head cracked open, multiple broken bones across his body, left for dead with none of his family there to help.

A passer-by going to his apartment noticed Mason injured and dying on the floor and called for LSEMS who then came to rush Mason to the hospital.

Mason had to get surgery on his head to close up the severe cracks in his skull and had metal plates inserted into his right arm and leg. They kept him in intensive care until he woke up delirious and unsure where he was. 
“W...W...WHATS G...G...GOING O...O....O...ON?!?!”
He cried out for help with a new stutter, barely able to form a sentence whilst the nurses tried to restrain him to the bed and inject him with sedative to calm him down. Mason grabbed the clipboard with his patient chart on from his bed and whacked the nurse with it, knocking her out and made a run for it, well more of a stumble, running out of the hospital into the streets in his hospital gown confused about what happened and who he was.
He made it down the street with the clipboard still in his hand and examined it:

 

• Mason Bathsheba
• Unknown Age
• Several severe diastatic skull fractures
• Potential brain damage - Patient must go into care under observation if no family can be found

He made his way to a clothing store to change out of his hospital gowns and found a really nice red armor set made from latex (obviously meant for cosplay) and thought “th...th...this will p...p..protect me while I l...l...look for my f...f...family”

[Kazjii]

 

Contents:

Milton’s First Sentence

The new Sheriff in town

The LSMC Gangbangers

The new roadblock

The Bussin’ Busses

Mason gets bullied and reports a crime

Cletus’ Trading Co.

Lugnut's Medical Degree

Flargs night out in the city

Flarg’s Statistics 

 

It was a lovely sunny evening in the city of Los Santos. Milton was riding around in his communicator when he heard a foreign voice on the radio. He would soon discover this person to be Fred Bathsheba. The two Bathshebas ended up meeting on a busy street where they became bored out of their minds. However, Fred came up with a genius plan to rob a store. Milton quickly agreed and they got to work on a plan. 

Upon arriving at a clothing store, they picked out some outfits to hide their identity. Milton opted for a glowing pink suit accompanied with a pink anime mask and his usual skirt. Fred went with a casual black shirt and jeans along with a black party mask. The two were then set to rob the Chumash Store.

Upon arrival, they set up their communicators in the most optimal way to evade from any boofas.

Next, Fred disabled the boofa’s technology to make sure no boofas were watching them commit the act..

Finally, they got to robbing the store. Fred held the gun while Milton took the cash. The most perfect plan where nothing could go wrong. Milton decided they had collected enough money and decided to leave the store when the perfect plan went wrong. A boofa was right outside the store, waiting for the two Bathshebas to leave. Unfortunately, Fred was held at gunpoint by the boofa, but Milton quickly got in his communicator and drove off.

Milton’s communicator was speeding down the streets of Los Santos as the boofas tried to catch him. It was going well until Milton looked at his fuel. Milton soon ran out of fuel and made a run for it. Unfortunately, he was tased and arrested.

The boofas mocked Milton, but he made sure to let them know that they will be eliminated!

Milton and Fred were soon reunited at the DOC where they began their lengthy sentences. However, Fred once again came up with a genius plan. He said that they should do psych evaluation. Milton swiftly agreed to Fred’s plan.

A guard named Kourtney with a K took them to a room where she asked Fred and Milton many questions. Milton was very focused on doing well on the evaluation, so he answered the best he can. Soon the evaluation was done and Milton went back to serving his time.

Milton ended up passing his evaluation!

 

The Bathshebas have always been known for their ecstatic take on crime. As criminals themselves, they find crime therapeutic and relaxing. For this, the Bathshebas have been sitting at the Sandy Station Sheriffs Department in an attempt to scare the Sheriffs Department. Their actual goal is for a potential SD disband so they can take over being the Alpha law enforcement to continue their desires of cooking drugs.

The Bathsheba family definitely has the force to become the next big law enforcement figure, the only thing turning them off is the pre-school. Running two large corporate entities would prove to be very hard and time consuming. The children matter more than being elite scums.

 

 

While the Bathshebas were on their way to steal yet another air compressor from Bayview, the Bathsheba Family ran into the LSMC gangbangers. These specimens were nice enough to welcome the family to their small penthouse gathering where we talked about business and their hot tub.

 

Yes, we admit, the entirety of the Bathsheba Family was on crack during the experience, we still valued the time we had with the gang people. 

 

 

During the interaction, Cletus tried bargaining with head gang members Ava Raven and her mistress Matthew Burns on buying their HQ for the shown above assets. The offer was kindly rejected and said she would like to see some more wood. I guess Matthew’s wood is impressive for the offer of this magnitude to be rejected. The Bathshebas pretended they weren't offended but they still hold a grudge towards the two. Ava and Matthew, our offer of 3 logs and 2 branches still stands.

 

After the trade settlement was rejected we were asking about their gang in which they kept claiming “we are legal” which is something that we don't believe. No one named Ava is ever legal (take Ava Xanny for instance). I to this day believe they are gangbangers protecting their turf disguised as biker people in bandannas. I don't trust them but I like their style. They want to go to church so we will see if they exchange that bandana for a du rag if they get comfortable enough with us.

 

 

After the families multiple instances with the police, the family has come up with some of their own tactics that they plan to use in future instances. The family has already gone through the testing phase in two cases.

 

Flarg of Death

In this case, the enemy was chasing us and was yelling direct threats at the family. Scoobie then yells on the radio for the family to do the “1-2 Rubber Goosey” which is the tactic the family came up with to intimidate their prey. It worked and the man continued to do his job without messing with us. He learned his lesson and our day went about.

 

Flarg Stoppers

This certain case was to stop the almighty Boofa from buying a gun to kill us all. This notorious scum Boofa impersonator is known for being trouble. We have kidnapped one of his friends in the past and he now knows the Bathsheba family is a force to reckon with. This man is now scared of every move he makes because he knows our guns are cooler and better. Stay away Vince, we won this war.

 

To the commissioners:

We will sue, do not test me.

 

The family has come to terms with Sheriff Bathshebas deadbeat dad, Pierce Hardy, and have come to the decision to start working poor-people jobs in order to pay for the necessities of having the child. Again, Pierce Hardy, your quality of living situations where you are needed never disappoint me. I cannot wait to see you in the city to yell and slander you about your poor commitment issues.

Anyways, the family took out around 12 busses and began doing the normal route in Paleto to get some extra money. The family surprisingly did not suffer any hate from the police and was able to raise $73k for the young Sheriff Bathsheba. We are glad to say that he will be fed and clothed for 6 months due to this trip.

 

While on their trip, the family did stop by and say hello to Scoobie's DOC crush, Like Kourtney with a K. She came out and said hi. More importantly, Bartholomew was released from prison as soon as we pulled up so he was able to join us in the Bus route as well. To say the least, the driving was calming to Scoobie's nerves since he had the whole family together.

 

Whilst finishing up his bus route for his new job, Mason started being accosted by several people who started to make fun of his protection armor and communicator hat. Now, everyone knows that the Bathsheba family always dress appropriately and sensibly so these people must have been sent from Boofa to test Mason once again. He tried to give them fashion advice and explain that the reason he wears flippers is in case it rains (pictured below) and the reason he wears his protective armor is in case he gets in a fight. 

 

When explaining his communicator hat however, one of the filthy boofa supporters grabbed Mason’s communicator hat and crumpled it up, destroying it

Mason was not strong enough to try and fight 5 people even with his protective gear on, so instead he ran off crying to the Los Santos Sheriff's Department where he was met by an extremely useful deputy willing to help.

He got all the relevant information of the heinous crime and promised to catch the individual. Mason lingered around Paleto Bay for the rest of the day and kept running into the deputy asking him “did you catch him yet?” pretty much every 5 minutes. The communicator hat was never retrieved, lucky Mason carries 10 around with him in his briefcase at any given time. 

The notorious communicator hat thief and bullies are still terrorizing innocent citizens on the streets to this day.

 

 

Our very own entrepreneur, Cletus Bathsheba, has started his very own business where he buys items with logs that he has found in the forest. Cletus started this journey to be more financially dependent. For a log (haha get it) time now, Cletus has been smooching off Scoobie's preschool funds, Scoobie suggested Cletus to get a real job instead of collecting welfare and other peoples money. Cletus watched a few Youtube videos about starting your own company, in which he did. Cletus has yet to make any deals but he is definitely looking for offers and business deals. Cletus is trading his logs for voided charges, houses, AK-47s, and enchantment powder.

 

Cletus tried getting Scoobie's charges marked off.

 

The family has finally gotten the ability to claim that on of their very own is now a doctor. Lugnut Bathsheba was accepted into the School of BLS where he will be able to help us if we get injured! To say the least, we are so very proud of our not so little nut. Lugnut, make us proud and get that degree! Criminals can be doctors too!

 

The family found themselves at LSC (in which they have been banned for life for multiple theft attempts and disrupting the peace) - all of a sudden, Scoobie gets a text on his phone stating that Club Corruption was hosting an XXX Night. The family naturally made their way to the club where they waited in the god awful line. 

 

Scoobie thought of this occasion as a family bonding moment which prompted him to take money out of the Preschool fund to pay for everyone's admission. The total for all 12 Bathshebas and their pet coyote was $39,000, a small price to pay for bonding. 

 

As soon as Scoobie entered the sex prism, he was unaware of his surroundings and decided to take a quick video for their online scrapbook of the dancers at the entrance. Scoobie was told nearly immediately the next time he tries to video, he will be kicked out. Scoobie stopped due to him wanting to bond with his family.

 

The night was crazy and new for the family. They have never been in such a serious environment before. The exotic dancing, the alcohol, the “tee taws” (code word for boobs), and the music were all factors that made the family feel… free. Every male member (besides for Bartholomew… maybe he’s gay?) was up and down the room checking out all the females showing off their trunk and tee taws.

 

There was dancer in particular that gained the attention of everyone, her name to the Bathshebas was Kitty Kat Meow Meow. After multiple attempts in getting a private dance, the family scored one with Kitty Kat for only $10,000. What happens next makes Scoobie a proud Wizard Prophet.

 

Kitty Kat takes the family into a small room for a private session where she then dances her usual routine. It wasn't until Shag’s pet coyote got on the small dancing stage when Kitty Kat got off and started doing 1 on 1 dances. She picked Milton first for a private dance (Scoobie calls Milton his retarded crack baby) in which she had him hold her waist. This to Scoobie and Shag was a shock, who knew Milton would ever get the attention from a woman? The dance eventually finished and it was our time to go. The night got dark and the family returned to their normal trailer to do some blow and go to bed.

 

 Flarg has blessed all so very much. As a non-believer, I'm sure it is hard to ponder the greatness of what the Bathshebas do; therefore, this part of the newsletter is to showcase the greatness of all members and what we have accomplished.

 

Community Service Records [23/02/2021 - 30/03/2021]

Failure to Comply - Shag Bathsheba
GTA of a Government Employee - Shag Bathsheba

Attempted Murder - Milton Bathsheba

Possession of an Illegal Firearm - Milton Bathsheba

GTA - Scoobie Bathsheba

Possession of Controlled Substance - Mason Bathsheba

Misuse of a Government Hotline - Scoobie and Nicholas Bathsheba

Criminal Threats Against a Government Employee x6 - Scoobie Bathsheba

Felony Evading - Shag Bathsheba

Possession of Illegal Firearms - Bartholomew Bathsheba

Felony Evading - Bartholomew Bathsheba

Assault Against a Government Employee - Samoa Bathsheba

Possession of Illegal Firearms - Lugnut Bathsheba

Armed Robbery - Fred and Milton Bathsheba

 

The community service we did this month is way below average and personally was a sad portrayal of their deeds to Scoobie and Shag. Below is the last months community service records for comparison. We will try to do better.

 

Last Months Community Service Records [15/01/2021-23/02/2021] 

Attempted Murder of a Government Employee x2 - Scoobie Bathsheba 

Armed Robbery - Scoobie Bathsheba

Unlicensed Firearm - Scoobie Bathsheba

GTA of a Government Employee - Mason Bathsheba

GTA of a Government Employee - Cloonz Bathsheba

Attempted Prison Break - Scoobie Bathsheba

Armed Robbery - Cleevus Bathsheba

Reckless Operation x8 - Scoobie Bathsheba

Aggrivated Murder of a Government Employee - Shag Bathsheba

Kidnapping of a Government Employee - Scoobie Bathsheba

Felony Evading - Scoobie Bathsheba

Illegal Firearm - Rose Bathsheba

Felony Evading - Mason Bathsheba

Resisting Arrest - Mason Bathsheba

Failure to Comply - Mason Bathsheba

Assault with a deadly weapon - Mason Bathsheba

Brandishing a Firearm or Weapon of a Government Employee - Mason Bathsheba

Felony Evading - Ronnie Bathsheba

Trespassing - Scoobie / Lugnut / Mason Bathsheba

Unlicensed Firearm - Shag Bathsheba

Attempted Murder of a Government Employee - Myla Bathsheba

Attempted Murder of a Government Employee - Mustafa Bathsheba

Felony Evading - Lugnut Bathsheba

Aggrivated Attempted Murder of a Governement Employee - Lugnut Bathsheba

Failure to Identify - Caulkable Bathsheba

GTA of a government Employee - Ronnie Bathsheba

Operating a Motor Vehicle without a valid license - Cleevus Bathsheba

Failure to Comply - Scoobie Bathsheba

Assault with a deadly weapon of a Government Employee - Lugnut Bathsheba

Attempted Murder of a Government Employee x2 - Scoobie Bathsheba

 

Flargs Vehicle Statistics 

KM travelled in a communicator: 657 KM

New communicators constructed: +1

Blown tires: 3 (from a pursuit)

Amount of collisions: 23

Total in repair costs: $14,564

 

Miscellaneous Statistics

Shots fired: 14

Blunts smoked: 54

Enchantment powder inhalation sessions: 6

Church sessions: 2

New member attendance to church services: 29

Preschools established: ½ (in a temporary building at the moment)

 

Mason Bathsheba

This months Bathsheba of the Month will go to Mason Bathsheba. Mason has been a constant force in the family being sure that everyone's needs are met. He is not afraid of change and is always around to help the family when they are in a bind. Mason for his hard word will receive 5 grams of enchantment powder and a free radio.

 

Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg. Flarg.

Fuck Boofa.

 

[In collaboration with Mason and Milton Bathsheba]

[Ash]

Mason Bathsheba and Timowthy Bathsheba got a quest from Jason Tate from Weazel News! He said he would offer them both jobs if they made an amazing news report.
This email was sent to the entire government website emailing list as they did not know mister Tate's email address:

dear mizter jason tate

i could not find your email address so i hope you get this email i sent to the entire mailing list and everyone with the jason or tate in their name

me and mizter timowthy bathsheba completed the quest you gave us to make the most epicest dopest weazel news report you have ever seen it will blow your sox off

i hope you watch this and decide to give me a job at weezel news

flarg be with you!!!!!!!
senior disciple mason bathsheba of the bathsheba family religion

 

[Jellay]

Archived upon OP's request.

[Jellay]

Unarchived upon request from OP.

[Ash]

[JellyFaun]

Chapter One
The smell of warm meat and cocaine were among his first memories and now he dreamed of them every night. He no longer dreamed of dogs or Mummy G or of the dark room or of the policeman or the forest or of the hunt. He only dreamed of the scent now, and how warm and comfortable it made him feel. He often loathed waking from it, to face a reality that did not accept him.

He had come to the world via caesarian, named after his father Edmund, and might have grown up as a fine boy had it not been for his namesake. A policeman by trade but only protecting the innocent when on the clock, his father had turned to drinking more than was good for him at home. The lived in a humble cottage in the backwoods, secluded and unbothered. He would take out the anger of killed comrades and escaped convicts on those who comforted him, using his hand or whatever else was close to it. His wife was the main target but his son was not free of  scorn. The woman watched as her crying baby was allowed her breast but denied his crib, put down in the basement to live with the family hunting dogs for he made too much noise. The basement was dark but the dogs were sweet. The bitch, Carla, had recently whelped and her motherly instincts accepted the babe as one of her own. 

His mother, the only other human he saw, turned to cocaine to cope. She would have left but she had no job, no family, no friends and no-one to help. Cocaine helped. Cocaine made it bearable for herself and once in a while, she wondered if it would make it bearable for her son too. She would slip it into his food every day.

Edmund Jr. grew in this way for ten years. He knew the day and night by a sole window that was too high up for him to see out of.  He ate what the dogs ate- usually leftovers or a freshly killed chicken. He slept where they slept and played what they played. When they went hunting with his father, he was left alone in the dark room.  He saw his mother when she was sober enough to remember he existed. Carla died. He used a sharp piece of broken glass to carve her face off, so he might finally look like his family.  Her puppies grew old and died and their inbred puppies came to respect him as their alpha. They tussled often to make their muscles strong.  And one night, they all escaped together. 

The sound of the cars on the gravel roused him from sleep and the cellar door to the outside was flung open. Bright lights shone in and flashing red and blue popped off his pupils. The dogs were up in a moment, snarling and raising their hackles. They were as unsocialized as he was, and a stranger was trying to breach the den. A man stood in their path, dressed in blue and holding a source of the light while behind him blooms of crimson and azure hid his features. 
"Good God-" was all the officer was able to say before the dogs and boy charged him. Edmund Jr. felt the grass beneath his feet for the first time. The lights, the noise of the dogs, the whiplash of a stale basement for cool, fresh air jolted and spurred him and he was half-inclined to run back for the safety of the den. But the pack was upon the officer now, biting and tearing at his flesh and their aggression won out. He joined them, pulling a chunk with his teeth. It was a nice meat, sweet and salty, and better than anything he had ever eaten. 

A boom from a gun sent the pack scattering as one of their own dropped dead. The red and blue men were the takers of peace and life. Edmund Jr. followed the pack as they bolted for the cover of the deep woods. Blood dripped off their maws and his own and adrenaline carried them far into the night, leaves slapping against them and branches cutting paws and hands to ribbons. Fear was soon drowned out by their panting and he found himself able to keep up with them.

As the morning sun peeked over Mt. Chiliad, he flopped in the grass to rest with the pack, panting and curling in close to each other. He was tired, and decided that after a short nap, they would all go back to the den. 

The only trouble was...he no longer knew which way the den was. 

To be continued! 

[JellyFaun]

Chapter 2 

Three weeks had passed since that night. If anyone had come seeking Edmund, their efforts were fruitless. Feral dogs were not exactly uncommon in the area and nobody but one motorcycle ever even came close to his new den. At one point, a huge red beetle had flown overhead, making a dreadful hum. The pack ran for the new home and the cover of the nearby forest and remained low on their bellies until it passed. It circled around thrice that day, then never came back. It was soon forgotten.

Set in a small cave in the rock face, he and the dogs had made themselves quite comfortable. There were bird carcasses and a few rotting rabbits littering the floor, but it was never enough food. Dog and boy were thinning out. One of their own had already succumbed to the throngs of wild living-a runt juvenile now lay in the longest grasses, flies buzzing around her still open eyes and the massive open cavity in her chest where the pack had feasted. But the meal, Edmund noticed, was missing something. And that made him irritable.

There was no dignity or order in the pack, but there was respect. They killed their prey ruthlessly, bickered over the scraps without mercy. Edmund respected this and demanded respect from the pack in return. He made it abundantly clear that he was still alpha. If any snarled at him, he bit their necks. If any tried to steal his meat, he pinned them and choked them until they stopped fighting.  None of them were exceptionally large dogs and he refused to relinquish his status. He washed himself in blood and his own urine to stink like an alpha and his mind, able to work out puzzles and problems, surpassed their tactics. He knew how to flush out birds and rabbits, how to grab rats and he could even climb trees to obtain bird eggs. But there were five of them plus him, and such small game was not enough to sate them when they were so used to fresh chicken and table scraps. Starvation was beginning to drive them all mad.

They tried a deer one day. It was walking in the moonlight  and its massive antlers caught the stars. A huge, healthy buck like that was almost suicide to attack, but hunger made them fools. They were tactless- loud baying hunting dogs with no master were like toddlers compared to wolves, and it simply trotted away at first. They pursued, Edmund at the head of them. Luck. Luck and a recent landslide alone stopped the buck. It had taken a trail it knew to be safe, a deer run in the shadow of the mountain with thicket on either side, but the rocks that fell earlier in the day now blocked it off. A dead end. 
The pack approached, jaws dripping, eyes showing white and not one hesitated. Legs flew, antlers caught snapping jaws. A well timed kick with both legs knocked Edmund into the thorns of the thicket. One dog's skull was crushed under razor sharp hooves. The stag stomped off the way it came without harassment or injury, save for a little cut on its neck. 

The very next day, a hiker chanced upon their home. He was outfitted in blue checkers and a tan vest, wore black pants and carried a big stick in his hand that he used to walk. He had black binoculars that he held to his eyes and often stared at the trees with them. The pack stared at him in turn, battered and bruised, salivating and knowing that they would not have a third chance to get a meal if this one got away. They stayed low, curving along beneath the cover of the bushes, silent as the grave. Edmund was at the head of the pack and lead the charge. The man, back to them, was against a cliff and watching an eagle as it passed overhead. He heard the snarl from Edmund just as the boy collided with his back. Teeth sinking into the neck, he clung on while the dogs grabbed the man's legs and pulled him down hard onto the packed soil of the mountain. Screams echoed off the peaks as they decimated Derek Parker, dying out and giving place to howls. They ate like kings that night and none had ever enjoyed a meal so much. All that remained by the end of the week was bare bones for the crows to fuss over. 

But it still wasn't enough. They would never have enough living like this and they could not rely on humanity to send one of their own for easy pickings. The first bite of autumn made the pack nervous as once again hunger began to claw at them.

They needed to find easier prey and fast. 

 

[JellyFaun]

Chapter Three

Starvation took Edmund and the dogs off that mountain. They avoided the thick hard trails that the monsters with glowing eyes ran on, and gave wide berth to the roaring lumber mill. So much noise must have been coming from a huge beast and the sound of the saws painted pictures of grinding teeth in their minds. 

A little wooden fort, what once might have been a camp of some type but now lay as desolate as their bellies, drew them. The dogs could smell man and Edmund knew to follow their snouts for tracking. There might be a man there now, and he might be alone, and then they would feed again! Broken glass, bullet shells and old clothes littered the ground and the vegetation grew thick in the corners, where creepers and moss had overtaken much of the wooden wall. It was just as wild as the forest, but the scent of man was driving the dogs insane. 

As they rounded a corner, the source of the stink was found. It was a person, bent over a plot of funny scented plants. They were digging with a little trowel and the plants stood in neat rows. Something shiny lay beside them. Overalls and a low brimmed hat of straw hid their hair. Even Edmund could smell the sweat off their back. One of the monsters that ran on the road slept quietly nearby, but the pack was too far gone to be subtle. They rushed the person in a body, barking and frothing at the lips.

The being turned, grabbing the object off the ground in a split second, and the noise broke the world to pieces as the gun went off.  One of the dogs flipped end over end and came to rest, dead, bleeding horribly. There was an audible "ch-chh" from the weapon as it was cocked again. Overtaken by surprise and fear, their hunger scared out of them, the pack fled in a mess. Every dog for himself! Another incredible boom and a cut-off yelp and another canid skidded to a final halt in the loose grass and gravel.

Edmund, spattered in dog blood, ran as fast as he could. He looked all around for the pack, hoping they were following him, but saw he was alone. And worse, he was trapped. The fort wall was fifteen feet above him and he couldn't find the entrance. He scrabbled blindly on, searching for a place to hide, a place where the ringing in his ears would stop echoing. Sweat smeared into the mask of skin and fur and dripped into his eyes. He bolted for what he thought was a hole in his marred vision and doomed himself.  It was a black blanket dropped low on an old clothesline that had half fallen under its own weight. Trying to pass through it, he entangled himself in it. Struggling, kicking and biting to get out, he wound the clothesline around himself. It caught his leg first, then crossed over to his arm and switched across his back. He jerked around viciously, trying to get away from this nightmare, and it cinched about his torso and finally around his throat, where it pulled viciously tight.

The noise outside the blanket prison was dying off, though he couldn't hear it over his struggles. He snarled and fussed and rolled about like a hogtied fish. Where was the pack? Why weren't they helping him? Where was the human? Was it looking for him? He turned fast and poked his head through a gap in the net. A shadow of a person stood over him and brought him back to that night at his first home. But then the pack had been with him. He gasped for air. Why was it getting so hard to breathe? The world began to fog over. The person wasn't moving. They still held the stick that had made the world explode and were aiming it at him, but they were slowly lowering it. 

"Oh my god..." The voice was female and Edmund found the tiniest bit of solace in that. His mother had a voice like that and she sometimes talked to him when she fed him. He thought of her as the world began to turn white. The woman kneeled and put the stick on the ground. A hand reached for him and he took a snap at it, but was unable to put any bark into his bite. A flash of a knife and he knew he was doomed. He faded away...into darkness. 


The cord was cut from his throat and, after checking his pulse and breathing, the woman was assured he'd only been knocked out. 
She sighed, looking over his little body with the ribs almost poking through and the many scratches, bites and scars he had. He was filthy, more dirt than skin, and despite his actions and disposition, certainly human. 

"Well you've been through a lot, haven't you, kid?" She gave a nervous chuckle as she began to unwind the rest of the cord and blanket from him, looking around. The dogs had gone or lay dead nearby. The sun was setting and someone was certain to have heard the gun go off.  She counted her weed plants and cursed. Not enough for what she wanted, but she'd overstayed her welcome. 

"Good luck, kid." Whatever he was going through was not her problem. She clambered into her car and started it, casting a look at the boy on the nearby grass, exhaling a sigh and glaring. She had an order to fill and was already losing the light. There was no time for a feral, dog-minded, vicious, blood thirsty boy who was dirty and starving and all alone in the big dark forest without a mother to cry on or a place to get warm...

Another deep sigh, and she opened the car door, stomping out to him. Grasping him up under the neck and legs, she carried him to the back of her car, piling him into the seat and locking the door firmly.

Perhaps it was a recent miscarriage that flared up some maternal instinct in her, perhaps it was curiosity in the boy's plight, or perhaps it was the shred of human decency that most criminals claim they no longer have. Whatever the reason, Margaret Gilthanus adopted the boy that night. Despite his many peculiarities and a chance of rabies, she couldn't just leave him there. 
 

Edited October 21, 2021 by JellyFaun

[JellyFaun]

Chapter 4

The heat and light of the room was not like the sun's and Edmund itched terribly from it. Used to sleeping on rock and grass and hide, the feather blankets were uncomfortable and he pissed when he awoke in them, out of fear. This wasn't the forest, or the dark den but an alien world that drove him into another panic.  He ran laps of the room, leaping at the windows and tearing the drapes. An upset bowl and washjug on the bedside table became shards littered on the floor. The closet door was dented with his own shoulder in great plunges.  His mask was gone. He smelled different, his skin giving off a stink of flowers that wasn't remotely like himself or his pack and his hair felt oddly light. The pack was missing and he knew some of them were dead. Hunger still ate at his stomach. When the realization that escape was inevitable slid over him, he opted to curl up in a corner facing the door, waiting for death to come for him as there was nothing left to live for.

Finally the door creaked, and a blood curdling snarl escaped his lips. He bared his teeth, raised up his shoulders and widened his eyes, like the dogs did when they were angry. The woman, the killer of his pack, stepped inside with a flourish of an apron and looked at the state of the room, and of its occupant. Lip curled to show his gums, hands curled like paws and chin pushed forwards, the menace might have been intimidating if he wasn't eleven at the most. 

"Oh, aren't you scary?" She chided with a chuckle, closing the door. "Well I hope you're not too upset to have dinner with me." A plate in each hand, she stepped forwards, and he drew away from her, trying to vanish through the wall.  Her eyes narrowed, observing and realizing that he wasn't being aggressive, but defensive. He was probably frightened to death. No closer did she attempt and with a clatter, she set his plate on the floor, seating herself beside it.
"Come on and eat, buddy." A hand beckoned for him. "You must be hungry."

First he kept his eyes on her, then they rapidly flicked to the plate, back and forth. The scent of its contents wafted to his nose; meat and table scraps. It sent his eyes almost rolling into his head and fear was shoved aside by a hunger so ravenous it made the woman jump a little. With a snap and a snarl, the steak was vanquished from the plate and he had curled in the corner again, tearing it apart. He used his hands to pin it while he pulled it off in great chunks. Instead of eating her own meal, she watched him. A multitude of books and documentaries explained feral children prepared her for meeting one, and working with differently abled children for twenty years prepared her for helping one. Juices splattered the walls as he feasted on the steak, and soon went the potatoes and the green beans, all down his greedy gullet. It had barely been two minutes when he was finished. His eyes fell on her and she only had time to laugh as he climbed onto her leg and swiped her own steak from the plate like a naughty dog.  She laughed, getting up. He snarled and backed against the wall again, the meat hanging from his mouth.
"Don't worry. I'm not going to take it away." 
And with that, she walked out of the room as she had come, leaving the door open. When he finished, he laid down into another slumber, his belly full for the first time in days. 

xxx

He woke several hours later to the soft strums of a long-play record dancing down the hallway. Never before had he heard music and it was at once both curious and fascinating.  With a few gentle taps on the floor, he decided to explore. The woman had fed him, and not laid a hand on him. Despite killing the pack, she didn't seem like a threat now. 

 The woman lived modestly, but to him the den was a maze of passages and doors. Some were open, others closed. One room was painted a soft pink pleasing to the eye and looked newer, and the rest were rustic and shabby, all of wood hand crafted by skilled hands. Tinted photographs  hung on the walls above and the red grass beneath his feet was as soft as fur. He followed the passage into a large room where the music was coming from. The phonograph was spinning gently and he sat on his haunches, putting his 'paws' on the lip of the little table and sniffing it. Having never experienced such a thing, the music was pleasant to his ears and he closed his eyes. It seemed to paint pictures in his mind's eye.

"That's Mozart. Symphony No. 40 in G minor if I'm not mistaken" 

He almost fell over in shock as the woman laughed from the sofa, holding a little glass tube with a bulb on the end.
"Careful, buddy. Don't hurt yourself." A little smile met the tube as she sucked on its end. Oh, he knew the smell coming from it- familiar and safe.  It calmed him almost instantly and he approached her without caution, sniffing at it. She offered it to him almost without thinking, so much was she enjoying her high.
"Don't pull too hard, Wolfgang." 
She felt the name suited him but just at that moment, she couldn't have guessed where she had recalled it from. Even in her stupor, though, she knew he was special,  she knew he wouldn't live much longer without her help, and she knew he needed a name.

His lips met the crackpipe and that first hit of happiness lasted almost fifteen years. 

Edited October 28, 2021 by JellyFaun

[Ash]

The Rising Suns, a group of crimson-wearing otaku's, have been supporting the church of Flarg for several weeks now and the Bathsheba family were happy to hear that they were invited to a fight night hosted by the Rising Suns. Mason took it upon himself to be the representing Prophet to turn up to the event and fight alongside Wolfgang Bathsheba,

FOR THE GLORY OF FLARG.

When Mason got to the event he was welcomed with free entry to the venue, special guarded parking for his communicator vehicle. On the door he was shown to the special vee eye pee area with other select guests and then a welcomed with open arms by the announcers of the event who even went as far as to praising Flarg to the crowd.

 

Fights began with a bunch of people Mason had never seen before throwing punches and getting each other beaten up, Mason was in trouble. He was never much of a fighting man so he needed a secret weapon. He left the building and went to his communicator vehicle and retrieved his briefcase, the place he stores all of his worldly possessions:

 -  His PhD that for some reason says "Mason Morrison" on (pre-head injury)
 - His "medical license" (his BLS certificate from MD)
 - A spare communicator hat
 - Some doggo treats for Wolfgang

 - Oh, and a brick

 

This was his secret weapon. A weighted down briefcase he could use to bludgeon his opposition. Mason was eventually called to the fighting arena, he did not want to fight but he was representing the Bathshebas who were honoured guests at the event, he needed to do what was right.

He still did not win even with his secret weapon. He was still cheered on by the crowd and felt like as long as he did his duty to Flarg, all will be well. 

 

His final fight was against such a fierce fighter, an unstoppable force . Mason had never matched up against such a beast who could OHKO him. Judith Mason.

On the way out from the event he managed to give a final "fuck you" to Boofa (basically the anti-Flarg) outside the venue, who, for some reason, praises himself.

[Bakmeel]

Thread archived due to inactivity.

If you want your thread to be unarchived, please message either @Bakmeel or @Jellay via a Discord PM or Forum PM.

 

Bakmeel

[Kazjii]

Ladies and gentlemen, we are back. Stay posted for threads : )

[LucasMadrazo]

amazing and very impressive work put in here, I love to see it!

[Kazjii]

Before moving into the showcase, it has been a very long time since we have made something like this. We have semi-active in game and have built some fun arcs with some fun people; however, we have not been publicly documenting any pictures or experiences anywhere besides our faction discord and would like to take this post to show a lot of what we have failed to add in our absence. In this time, we have had numerous church sessions, built our religious empire, got a case file ( ;/ ), built a preschool, and started the works of publishing a podcast. It is with all this and more that I would like to show you the Bathsheba Backstage Pass.

 

The church. Our goal. Our home. After filing for having a church to move out of the garage we were sneaking into, we got an offer to buy the property for 1.9 million (not including the renovations and decorations). After 4 days of asking for donations and talking to the public about Flarg, we raised 4.9 million dollars which covered the church and renovations for the inside. The church was decorated and built by LUGNUT BATHSHEBA who gave us a beautiful atrium and garden room.

The church was designed to hold 100 people comfortably and to hold VIP seating for Bathsheba Family members along with family advisors. We planned to have the open area of the atrium and cathedral to be optimal for Bathsheba relation and conversation. Here is an image of Scoobie, Esteban, Lugnut, and Mason having a conversation in the open area.

While building, every member of the family was taken into account. No family member should go unnoticed and all should have a bed to sleep in. Even the mut, Wolfgang.

The church was soon the spot for every walk of life to come and hangout with judgement - the Bathshebas allowed conversation with anyone who gave them the time of day. Conversation would always somehow land on Flarg and their hatred for Boofa, but nevertheless, the church was the spot to be comfortable. 

 

 

Here it is. The moment the Bathshebas have been longing for ever since killing that pig Soap Montasser. This building has been the center of attention for all those involved in the Bathshebas arc to fame. This service was the place holder of expressing gratitude to all those who have donated and/or listened to spontaneous sermons.

The service started with an immense line that stressed our security admin, Melon Tee Taw. By the grace of Flarg, Melonie was able to handle the crowd with professionalism and ensured all threats were taken care of before entering the holy land. 

After ensuring all people entering the facility were taken care of - Scoobie began to grow nervous at seeing the dozens upon dozens of people piling into the church for his service. He was flooded with emotion and thinking how grateful he is for this moment. But the time is now, he knew he had to go on stage once those lights dimmed, and he did.

The worship, the sounds, the emotion. All of these factors turned the 94 people in attendance into balls of spiritual beings. The event of the night, the member Bathtisims, where members become ordained members of the family securing their faith in Flarg. After this event, the Bathshebas would conclude their first ever church service. The first Bathsheba service raked in a total $1.46 million dollars in donations and tithing. 

$734,500 in wire transfers / cash donations

A donated 2G house (estimated $500,000)

A donated 1G house (estimated $225,000)

While we are so happy and filled with great emotion, a narc was present at the service. They called the BOOFA worshipping pig cops and confused our bathtism ritual with purposefully drowning the family member. Since this claim was empty and wrong, the Bathshebas and Scoobie's super-secret security team protected the church from the BOOFA man.

Mission was successful. The church service was a wild success and great time for all involved.

 

I'm not sure how to say this without crying, but over our slumber, we lost a valuable member of the family. Ronnie's pet kitty, Scrappy, was shot and killed by Boofa worshipping cops. This was the moment that my little boy, Ronnie, started growing up knowing that life was not safe. Rest in peace to Scrappy.

Scrappy's Final Moments HOME VHS

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t3nVg44U_i0

 

After long awaited production of our enchantment powder (code word snow dust) - we ran into a problem in our assembly line and the word got out to BOOFA worshipper Yucky Nockamora. We caught her lacking at the Mission Row police department has strong suspicion that she was plotting a terrorist attack with the police department on the church in order to fully stop our production of goods.

We intervened and confronted this BOOFA worshipping individual to tell her to stop or else she will be persecuted in court. This really rattled her BOOFA beliefs as she cowarded; however, she still was moving forward with the police. We will not stop pursuing her in court. Operation Snow Dust in WIP, we hope soon to report more on this matter.

 

We tend to encounter BOOFA worshippers pretty normally, but one day Mason was out and about doing errands and selling snow dust to kindergarteners when he found BOOFA roaming around the streets safe and sound. We cannot have this image as BOOFA ruins everyone's lives as we know it - we taught him what it feels like to be hated, he will not be comfortable in this city.

While encountering this sick piece of garbage once in a blue moon, we still give him a piece of his own medicine. He, like Yucky Nockumora, cowarded. The streets are safe for another day.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

This marks the end of the backstage pass. We hope to post more frequent public service records and more frequent account of our events - this is just a handful of our favorites from the last little while!