Today's story is actually a story that was sent in by a few people.

Apparently it's a legendary story but I don't know anything about this and it creates a whole

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This story comes from neckbeard stories and is titled The Introduction of Good Sir Samuel.

Or why am I stomach now turns at the smell of spaghetti sauce?

Hi everyone, it's Lady Saber.

Player 1 is me, Lady Saber, 16 years old at the time. I'm finished, I grew up in Belgium,

here in America on a two-year exchange program at this time. I'm still new to the country,

school, going through a culture shock, I'm heavy and defensing, it's been my sport for something

like 10 years. For neckbeards this seems to make me the katana-wielding malady of their dreams.

Player 2 is smooth-cheeked neckbeard, we'll call him Samuel Tarley.

Fat as all get out, wears cargo shorts, bezinga shirt, sandals and yes, the fedora.

He also smells like sweats and old spaghetti sauce. He has a really high-pitched,

nasally voice that sounds like a whiny toddler. Player 3 is John, he shares half of my courses

and is really good at chess. He has his southern accent that I can listen to all day.

I'm keeping his description limited so that I don't sound obsessive.

I met Samuel at chess club. I'm pretty aware that it's a neckbeard spawn point by now,

but I go because I like to play. There are some good apples like John, so I was mostly there

just to talk to him. However, today he's running late and gets upstaged by Samuel.

I'm sending up the board and the seat across from me is empty, so Samuel asks me to play.

I politely try to turn him down telling him that I was waiting for someone.

...