Then I wandered the back streets of Orgrimmar, saying goodbye to the city I loved. I'd dyed my hair red and chosen the worst hair style I could find so that nobody would know it was me, and I wore a dress. It seemed to me my disguise was perfect and yet, even so, people kept saying things like "Heya Evi, I heard about you and Gamon", and even "You'll invite me to the wedding, right?"
Finally, as I neared home I achieved enlightenment, by which I mean that I was spoken to by a god.
"Hi Evida," the god said. "I am GM Unavoidabull. How are you this fine day?"
"Um," I said.
"Do you have a moment now to discuss your ticket?”
“Ticket? What ticket? Oh, you mean my prayer.”
“Yes indeed. Your guild realm-changed. We sent a message to your mailbox.”
“Yes but I can't open that. There's a letter bomb in it.... Don't ask, long story, but one of my pets hates me…."
“I can't believe that's true,” said the god in a consoling sort of way.
“You're right,” I agreed, “ALL my pets hate me, except Insanity.”
“There isn't a game mechanism for your pets to hate you,” said GM Unavoidabull
“Hah! Where have you been living? A secret island hideaway? My pets so totally do.”
“Oh. Well all you have to do is realm change to Draenor….. Oh. you'll need to empty your mailbox first.”
“Uh huh. I wouldn’t give Mr. Chilly the satisfaction.”
“Mr.. Chilly? Um isn't that the lovable fluffy penguin?”
“Oh yes, but not mine. You sent me an evil Mr. Chilly, the only truly evil penguin on Azeroth.”
“We don't do things like that..... Let me check your file.” There was silence for a moment, then he was back, genuine surprise in his voice. “Oh. Oh yes, you do appear to have the Epitome of Evil. Sorry, they said they'd dealt with that. I assumed they meant a steel drum, covered in concrete and hidden at the bottom of the ocean. It never occurred to me they'd send him to you.”
“Oh don't worry he's under control. Why do you think girls carry really big handbags?”
“I wondered.”
“Totally practical and big enough for every eventuality, and in this case the eventuality was Mr Chilly trying to take over the world.”
“Um,” said the god type entity. “You need to enter your mailbox, letter bomb or not. How long has the hypothetical letter bomb been in there?”
“Two years,” I told him.
“You haven't emptied your mailbox for two years? Omg. Ok I'll check.”
I waited and waited, then the god spoke again. “Um, there IS a letter bomb in there, but I think you’ll find it was from someone called Forst.”
“I wonder what happened to Mr. Chilly's bomb,” I said. “It might be well-hidden and booby-trapped. Could you look again please?”
There was a loud thump, a lot of hissing, a whimper, and then I could hear Chilly squawking with maniacal glee from the depths of his baggy prison. Then there was a long silence. A very long silence.
“My mistake,” said a faint voice. “You were right. Passing you over to a colleague.”