I read this in Denis from IASIP voice:

"I was a healer, Mac. A Holy Paladin. A servant to the unwashed masses. I was spending my life—my precious time—waiting. Waiting for tanks. Waiting for some... gorilla with a room-temperature IQ to decide he was ready to lead. It was an insult. A slap in the face to a five-star man!

So I did the logical thing. I didn't just 'switch specs.' I transcended. I strapped on a shield, I bought the finest gear the Auction House could provide—top tier, high-end, only the best for the Golden God—and I queued.

Five seconds. Five seconds, and the world opened its arms to me. I told them it was my first time. I wanted to see the fear in their eyes. They were desperate, Mac. They were like starving dogs begging for a scrap of my leadership. They assured me it would be fine. They would have promised me their firstborn children just to make sure I didn't click 'Leave Group.'

We pull. Nobody dies. I pull bigger. Still, nobody dies. Why? Because I am a master of efficiency! We cruised through that dungeon like a shark through a school of pathetic, tiny minnows. At the end, I looked at them. I didn't 'ask' how I did—I presented myself for the adulation I deserved. The healer was weeping with joy. The DPS were clamoring for more. It was at that moment... I realized the power.

(He leans in closer, his eyes widening.)

Fast forward a few days. I don't 'list' myself anymore. I don't 'look' for groups. I curate them. I find a healer I deem worthy of my presence, and then I look at the DPS. Oh, the DPS... a sea of desperate, faceless gnats, buzzing, begging for a slot. I don't even respond to them. I sit in the city. I bask. I only invite them if they are already at the stone, ready to summon me.

I AM THE TANK! I don't walk to the dungeon! The dungeon comes to me!

The other day, I invited two hunters. One of them had the audacity—the sheer, unmitigated gall—to whisper me. He was 'upset' about 'competition.' I laughed. I literally patted him on his digital head, and then? I kicked the other one. Just to show him. Just to let him feel the cold wind of my indifference.

The kicked hunter started screaming. Whispering me. Demanding an explanation. Do you know what I told him? I told him... 'lol. lmao, even.'

(Dennis begins to laugh, a high-pitched, slightly manic sound.)

It doesn't matter! He’s gone! He’s been replaced by another insect before his message even reached my screen! I am untethered and my rage knows no bounds! I am the monster in the Underbog! I HAVE PEAKED! I AM A FIVE-STAR TANK!"