I am definently interested. Here's a CS I whipped up.
"Eh? Where the hell am I? Your a God? For f*** sake man I'm an atheist."
**Name** Johnathan McGee, but you can call my Merry John.
**Age** Respect your elders, damn it! I'm 64!
**Year of death** who the hell asked if you liked Cowboys? I think I died around Kingston avenue, 1930.
**Method of Death**: I have the right to keep that disclosed information away from you, bum! But I'll tell you anyways. Right around where I lived, a nice cardboard box in an alley, all these jacked up youngsters tried to mug me. They had guns and all that sh*t, but I gave them a run for their money, yes sir-ee. Sacked one with my cane, oh, now that was fun. But, they just had to pull the trigger on me, I guess. Still got the bullet hole... *Dry laughter*
**Crimes**: Hmm, I think I got into some thievery and drugs back in my day. I would always go on pantie raids with my friends and get high at about age 13. But that just landed me as a worthless hobo, now didn't it? After that I had to constantly steal to survive. Moral of the story is-
**Weapon**: Lord have mercy, I have to complete this whole form?! Voting's easier than this!
*Sigh* I guess I'll take my walking cane. It's good for smacking, and has a hidden what-you-ma-call-it inside... A gun! Yeah, that's what it is. It's got a long barreled rifle at the end. Though I never did get bullets for it. Hey, you can get me some bullets, right?
**Backstory**: Now I got to write an essay. I'm legally illiterate, you know!!!
Well, back in my day the country was going good. I was proud to be born in the state of New York, USA. But while the U.S. and subsequently, my family's lives were experiencing clear skies ahead, mine sure wasn't! I had started to get into damned drugs and stuff like that in middle school, and you know what, I think I shot a gun once or twice by the time I was 12. But I kept this all from my parents. Boy, was I stupid. I would come home for dinner and you know what my pop would ask?
"Boy, are you doing good in school?"
"Yeah, real good." I was failing.
"Great, and your friends?"
"Just as good." I had none.
"Well splendid. I'm proud of you, John."
He really shouldn't have been proud. Once I was finally old enough to live on my own, I had no independent support. I lived on the streets for the longest time, unable to find a job because I was technically a convicted felon. My life had fallen down the damn drain, and I lived in a shoe box before it was cool, too. Oh? What was the trend of living in a sh*ty hole called? I think they named it 'The Great Depression'. And before long, I'm here. So if I were to get one more shot at life, I would go and tell my pa...
I'm sorry...
**Height and Weight**: 5' 6", 279 lbs.
**A Note From The Editor**: No offense is intended due to the fictional quote at the top of this character sheet. Religion is an individual ideal, with most religion sets being suitable for all. Again, this fictional quote is not to offend genuine atheists, or any other religious personnel.
**Name** Johnathan McGee, but you can call my Merry John.
**Age** Respect your elders, damn it! I'm 64!
**Year of death** who the hell asked if you liked Cowboys? I think I died around Kingston avenue, 1930.
**Method of Death**: I have the right to keep that disclosed information away from you, bum! But I'll tell you anyways. Right around where I lived, a nice cardboard box in an alley, all these jacked up youngsters tried to mug me. They had guns and all that sh*t, but I gave them a run for their money, yes sir-ee. Sacked one with my cane, oh, now that was fun. But, they just had to pull the trigger on me, I guess. Still got the bullet hole... *Dry laughter*
**Crimes**: Hmm, I think I got into some thievery and drugs back in my day. I would always go on pantie raids with my friends and get high at about age 13. But that just landed me as a worthless hobo, now didn't it? After that I had to constantly steal to survive. Moral of the story is-
Hey! Don't cut me off when I'm telling a tale! I'd better wack YOU for that. What the- get that damn camera out of my face!!
**Weapon**: Lord have mercy, I have to complete this whole form?! Voting's easier than this!
*Sigh* I guess I'll take my walking cane. It's good for smacking, and has a hidden what-you-ma-call-it inside... A gun! Yeah, that's what it is. It's got a long barreled rifle at the end. Though I never did get bullets for it. Hey, you can get me some bullets, right?
**Backstory**: Now I got to write an essay. I'm legally illiterate, you know!!!
Well, back in my day the country was going good. I was proud to be born in the state of New York, USA. But while the U.S. and subsequently, my family's lives were experiencing clear skies ahead, mine sure wasn't! I had started to get into damned drugs and stuff like that in middle school, and you know what, I think I shot a gun once or twice by the time I was 12. But I kept this all from my parents. Boy, was I stupid. I would come home for dinner and you know what my pop would ask?
"Boy, are you doing good in school?"
"Yeah, real good." I was failing.
"Great, and your friends?"
"Just as good." I had none.
"Well splendid. I'm proud of you, John."
He really shouldn't have been proud. Once I was finally old enough to live on my own, I had no independent support. I lived on the streets for the longest time, unable to find a job because I was technically a convicted felon. My life had fallen down the damn drain, and I lived in a shoe box before it was cool, too. Oh? What was the trend of living in a sh*ty hole called? I think they named it 'The Great Depression'. And before long, I'm here. So if I were to get one more shot at life, I would go and tell my pa...
I'm sorry...
**Height and Weight**: 5' 6", 279 lbs.
**A Note From The Editor**: No offense is intended due to the fictional quote at the top of this character sheet. Religion is an individual ideal, with most religion sets being suitable for all. Again, this fictional quote is not to offend genuine atheists, or any other religious personnel.
