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I am proud to say that I made a fine wage decorating houses for others in SWG, and I'm also proud to say I ran a guild that did all kinds of stuff including having it's own player city. I was a warrior by day, and decorator by night, again no shame in that and it was well known, I was the go to guy for leading your raid, then decorating your house with the loot, I even ran an art museum and tailor shop of my own...
So your probably thinking, ok guy with unpronounceable name, what is creepy about that? Well nothing, I haven't gotten to that part yet because, well, it's so creepy I just don't know if I can...ok, for all of you, I will let you into the mind of the man decorating your walls.
While I ran my guild as an upstanding and fair leader, I also spent lots of time networking while layout out homes for people. They knew me, seemed to like me, and obviously trusted me with their prized possessions. What they did not know about, what no one knew about, was what I did when I wasn't leading or decorating. I had a cabin, I called it my "Tusken Retreat" and placed it as near Fort Tusken as I could. Every, and I mean just about every free minute I had I was in that fort murdering like Anakin after you slapped his mama. I was obsessed, and I mean obsessed with all things Tusken, especially the helmts or "heads" as I called them. I would kill for hours, then return to my "Retreat" where I would line the walls with the Tusken loot. I had Bantha heads, tusken drums, and most of all, I had the heads, all delicately placed just above torches so they eternally burned in the flames. They lined my walls. The only furniture I had in the place was a single Emperror esque throne in the center of the large main room where I would sit, smile, zoom back to take in the view of my character surrounded by the heads of his enemies, admire, then log out. It was bliss.