Wham: Lord Cars is nothing short of infuriated by this display of ignorance towards his person—a “most wretched attack on an eminent personage,” if one may. In light of this gross show of disrespect, I kindly urge those humans capable of do so report on the matter of his inclusion in the upcoming game posthaste.

ACDC: *Shrugs.* Not much going on with me…

(I still don’t know what that shiny silver clump is. Lord Cars gets moody whenever Lord Wham or myself bring the thing up in conversation notwithstanding, so whatever it is, it must be pretty horrid.)

Santana: …Me? ._. How…?
Wham: No, that is not you: that is a snow sculpture.
ACDC: Wait, why him? He’s beneath us! *Fumes.*
Cars: It would appear the humans responsible for this wish to elicit our awesome rancor. Have these mortals no sense?

Wham: The preceding had been brought to our attention, just when Lord Cars expressed he was entertaining thoughts of procuring a time-telling device. {It will become available roughly one month after the vernal equinox.}

ACDC: In case any of you worthless humans were wondering, yes: since we last spoke, we’ve come into possession of miniature replicas of myself, Lord Wham, and the kid.

(Moreover, I’ve finally managed to secure Lord Cars’s outdated image-capture device. Score~!)

[And the turban is enchanted with… that “vampire magic”?]

We have finally completed the running backlog of inquiries. We shall answer them in proper in the near future.

Humans,

Lord Cars speaking. Several solar months have elapsed since myself or the others have addressed your asinine masses. Doubtless, during that time not a few of you pondered the nature of mine and my cohorts’ whereabouts. Although I can assure you of our return henceforth, being of supreme bearing and mettle to your base species, the other Pillar Men and I feel in no way obligated to couple this occasion with apologies or excuses. (Trifling, the notion a superior would ever kowtow before subordinate!)

Blessed be your good fortune that we have found the “animated adaptation” of late to be to our general fancy: indeed, we are loath to your technology and its needless complexities. Never would I nor the others have imagined that there existed those among you capable of such admirable vocal mimicry (which, as you humans put it, “is the sincerest form of flattery”) and visual imitation. We have judged your miniature reproductions to be in equally good taste; and we expect that your translations of our persons to that which you call the PlayStation3 interactive entertainment console to be similarly true to character.

Signed
Lord Cars & co.

You humans… have done something intelligent and considerate for a change - an image, fashioned in my likeness, and presented to me upon the close of another short human solar year.

…Having courted my favor, I hereby grant your species a reprieve from my wrath. May you and your kindred celebrate your end-of-year festivities peaceably.


[Listen, and listen well, ye who cherish their lives: you have merely appeased my good humor for but a moment. I am intent on returning to despising your condemnable lot the moment the clock strikes midnight.]



{My Lord Cars, this is truly exceptional. Such fine attention to detail; the craftsmanship….}
(Gimme that, Lord Wham! Eh, it’s n-nothing… Too special.)
[Lord ACDC, your tone betrays your true feelings: you are envious of this human tribunal offering. “One day, they too will carve one in my image!” you tell yourself - when you already recognize that this longing may ultimately be for naught - truly a pity.]
(Hah! C’mon, Lord Cars! Eh… y-you can’t read my mind! Even if I did want those mangy humans to slop together a puny thing like that for me… Um, erm, well - what about Lord Wham? He’s obviously dazzled by its charms!)
{Lord ACDC speaks the truth, Lord Cars. Forgive me for my impropriety and poor judgment.}
(See? What did I tell ya?)
[Forgive you, I will not: you have not erred and thus do not require to suffer the consequences of exercising poor form and manner - who knows? Perhaps the humans will find you deserving of one, Lord Wham. Only time will tell….]