Po Knose
| Name: | Scotty |
| Location: | Rogueling |
| Rank: | Bartender |
| Guilds: | None |
| Step Name: | Not yet |
| Rogue since: | Birth |
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<under construction>
Biography
This is not actually Scotty's biography. He's just a slacker so I made one up for him. ~Requiem
You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen....wait a minute. Sorry. Wrong story. But this one is related. For you see, Jolly Old Saint Nicholas had a perverted streak and used to hit up the strip clubs in Trinidad on the off season, much to Mrs. Claus's disapproval.
One year, in the early 90's, Saint Nick found himself in the bottom of a bottle of Jameson, lying naked next to his favorite stripper in some seedy motel near Trinidad. "Holy shit, what have I done!" exclaimed the old bearded man. About 9 months down the road, he got an anonymous delivery with a note saying only "This belongs to you." The package contained a baby.
Now, Santa is a sly old bastard, and played off that the kid was just another elf for his workshop. The ruse worked on the Mrs. for a little over two years, but when the "elfling" got taller and jollier than the elves, the gig was up. Santa had to explain that the boy was his illegitimate love child with an unnamed woman. And that's when the shit hit the fan.
Saint Nick, with a heavy heart and a sigh, agreed to take the boy somewhere else to live. He went down his Nice List, then his Almost Nice list, and so on until he came upon the "Naughty by deeds of piracy, looting and pillaging" list. "Ah ha!" he exclaims. "I've found just the rapscallions to watch over my boy."
Christmas time rolled around, and Santa bundled up his little elf lad and jumped in the sleigh. When flying over Denver, he made a special stop at the home of the couple at the top of his Piracy list, Cricket and Moon. He broke in through the kitchen window, his son slung over his left shoulder like a sack of charcoal briquettes, and a keg of Cuban rum under his right arm. Both were left next to the tree, with a note saying "Watch over my boy as if he were your own." Imagine their surprise when they woke up the next morning.
6:00 on Christmas morning, Moon wakes up and sees a 3-year-old child and more liquor than he could drink in a week, and yelled down the hall "Honey!! You have some explaining to do!!" Cricket came stumbling down the hall in a sleep-filled daze, muttering about her husband waking her up, and stopped cold when she got to the living room.
"What the hell is THAT?"
"I think it's a boy," said Moon. "Don't know. I assumed you picked it up at the pet store. And look, Honey! Rum!"
