HOLA! My name is John Stalvern. Yeah I know, doesn't look Corsair-ish and all that, disregard it, it's just my name. No I won't tell you why and who my dad was. Although he always said I will be killed by demons if I go out to the space-ships... whatever. Oh there's no Cernel Joson in your ranks, right? That sucker didn't listen to my warnings and then it was too late... far too late for now anyway.
WHATEVER, let's move on. I'm twenty-fve years of age. I'm an expert chef. No really, my mother taught me all her secret recipes that got passed down from her mother who in turn got it from her mother again and then from my grand-grand-grandmother. Seriously.
Then again that's not really relevant that much, isn't it? Oh well whatever, I can also RIP AND TEAR YO... people's guts. Other people's guts. Ever since I got my hands on a cache of BigMAX'¢ BerserkerPacks from that Lord Kapinos dude and bought my trusty, my beloved, my wonderful, my gorgeous, my... precioussssss... Beavertooth'¢ Chainsaw, I started getting into the ripping and tearing game. It's fun. Keeps me from getting caught up in baking more pies.
Mmmh, I love the smell of fresh Hessian Pie in the mo... err, nevermind. I'm not a cannibal. I swear. I'm not. Seriously.
But anyway what other skills do I have? Well! I got the POWER OF GRAYSK... wait no, wrong line. Oh right, I'm totally good at driving. No really, especially space-ships. I had to do the driving test twenty times, that's how good I am. I mean they wouldn't let me do it twenty times if I wasn't good at driving, right? RIGHT?
BUT LET'S CARRY ON.
You see, I am broke. Really broke. Super-broke. I'm also real bad. Superbad. I'm a twelve-point-oh on a ten-point-oh scale of badness. But more than that, I'm broke. And being broke is no fun. Can't afford one of those sexy, sexy... err wha'd you call the bigger thing with the horns? Lolfect? Impregnator? No wait that was the small one... Legate? Naw that's the big one... must be the Lolfect. ANYWAY I'd like to drive one because you know I'm a good driver. But broke. Oh and I got the chainsaw, can cook, and am superbad.
Wait I mentioned that all already didn't I? Okay right, let me think... crap I guess I have to tell you my history afterall.
Let me do it with a song someone wrote about me in a mirror dimension that only exists in my head!
Oh. Right. The demon part never happened. I swear I'm not a demon. Not a zombie either. Totally. I did have a Plasma Rifle long ago though. Oh how I remember that gun. The gun. My gun. It was a Callahan full-bore auto-lock. Customized trigger, double cartridge thorough gauge. It was my very favorite gun. This was the best gun made by man. I called her Vera.
Oh dear, how I miss her... but yeah, I know I'm getting all sentimental here. Oh no and my second name is not Jayne.
Anything else? Wait no, I don't think... er... yeah. I'm sure... yeah I totally am. So uh what do you guys say here now? Viva La Revolucion? Hessen über alles? Err... wait no, sorry, Viva los Corsairs? Right guys?