Screw you guys, I'm going home

No, really...I quit.
The pub industry is a perverse burlesque, constant readers. It is most unfortunate that monkey-minded publicans are incapable of upholding my policies and meeting my demands, so I frequently get fi...resign in disgust.

These are the tragic circumstances of the latest outrage:

Offence the A:  The institution was unwilling to quell the blackguardly misdemeanings of the quiz participants who had become obstreperous upon the discovery of their rampant, unabashed cheating. My policy on cheating is absolute: since my questions are of unapproachable cleverness due to my Degree, anyone who gets any answer correct must be cheating and is immediately disqualified.

Offence the 2: Despite my protestations, the brassbound staff refused to strip the crowd and place them in a Farraday cage for the final seventy rounds of the quiz. Instead, they tazed me, forced me into an uncomfortably restrictive garment, and sent me to the Quiet Room with a snootful of Haldol. They didn't even pay me!

Offence the D: I was presented with a BILL for my pre-quiz libation! ONE simple Salvatore's Legacy is too much to ask?  A SHOCKING disaccommodation.

Mark my wordings! They shall beg for my return!

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This is the place to praise me! Make sure to capitalize all pronouns which refer to me, like people do for Jesus. I've earned it. I'm entitled, dammit.