“Some people just don’t know a good thing when they see it.”

“Join the Preservationists, right? It’s an easy choice. Protect everything you’ve ever known? Trust in our leadership? Enjoy the benefits of power? What kind of chucklefuck wouldn’t take that gig, right? Yet it seems some of you needed convincing. And thus, we invited you to our garden. Golden tickets to the party, no plus ones, all very exclusive, a massive honour to be chosen… And to be courted.”

“As soon as you pass through the gate, it’s all very lavish – A floral arch, the aroma of fine cooking and finer wine, banners bidding you welcome – in silk, not that shitty plastic. The air is filled with music, a mini-orchestra playing solely for our pleasure… And in the centre stands two trees, massively different in size – an olive tree and a giant redwood. This is just a taste of the life for those who finally realise the way of the world and come aboard. Only, it doesn’t take long for the mood to sour.”

“Straight away, you’ve got Bozo The Clown, Captain Cumface and someone you DEFINITELY wouldn’t trust around children arguing over whose friends would win in a fight. Then there’s the 4chan edgelord hoping it kicks off between them so he has an excuse to jump in and throw hands – limp, pathetic hands. Then, there’s the Discord mod and the furry who hasn’t discovered showers yet shooting daggers my way, before they start fighting over who gets their hands on me first. There is only one guest who is even remotely civilised, and above the rest of these subhumans – a man who not only enjoys the finer things in life, but knows how to make them.”

“So I go to that olive tree, and I break off 7 branches. On behalf of my friends, I extend one to each of you. 6 of you are too fucking ignorant to even notice, absorbed by your own petty squabbles, and the seventh accepts – tentatively. I keep a close eye on you all as I whittle down one of those branches into a makeshift spear, knowing full well what is going to occur. Inevitably, it happens – fists fly, furniture is broken and the air is polluted with your caveman yells. I ask Anton to hand me my axe.”

“I swing at that redwood, and none of you see. I keep swinging, and swinging, leaving gash after gash in its flesh… Until it is ready to tip. And then, we push. None of you see it coming, just like you haven’t seen the price of your refusals coming. You rejected peace and opted for war… A war ended in one decisive strike before it could even begin, as your vessels are crushed under the weight of the mighty trunk. I offer Savor my left hand and a place within the establishment… But if he refuses, my right hand is holding a spear, and it is sharp enough to go through the side of his neck.”

“Prepare for the consequences of your inaction, my ‘honourable’ guests.”