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Another day at your menial job pushing complaints and getting ignored, as suddenly, your Fax Machine whirrs alive, and prints a Centcom stamped paper. On it, you read: "A Motivational Song for all the Hardworking Internal Affairs Agent keeping our station afloat."

Complaints, Faxes, Command!

We call upon our ERT, in this our darkest hour,
Our station is what we're fighting for,
The Trurl that flies above us, inspires us each day,
To give our bare minimum, in every way!

It's a good day to die,
When you reported the reasons why a dozen times,
IAAs, we fight for what is right,
A noble sacrifice,
When duty calls, you pay the price,
For Nanotrasen I will give my life!

Well all is fair in love and Internal Affairs Reports,
That's what my magistrate says:
You're not alive unless you're dyin inside,
These are the words I march by: Complaints, Faxes, Command,
And every single day I'm out there reportin'!

It's a good day to die,
When you reported the reasons why a dozen times,
IAAs, we fight for what is right,
A noble sacrifice,
When duty calls, you pay the price,
For Nanotrasen I will give my life!

(Complaints, Faxes, Command!)

The Centcomm, they flies high above us,
The Centcomm, they make our job a chore,
They do nothing to help us at all,
To fight, and win this war!

It's a good day to die,
When you reported the reasons why a couple dozen times,
IAAs , we fight for what is right,

(Complaints, Faxes, Command!)

A noble sacrifice,
When duty calls, you pay the price,
For Nanotrasen I will give my life!

(Complaints, Faxes, Command!)

It's a bad day to die,
When you know the reasons why,
IAAs, we tried to do what's right,
A noble sacrifice,
Duty Called, and we paid the price,
For Nanotrasen we will give our lives!

(Complaints, Faxes, Command!)

For Nanotrasen we will give our lives!

Edited by Piccione
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I applaud you my good sir *clapping sounds* *magistrate screaming something about getting back to work*

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3 hours ago, SquidMaster said:

I applaud you my good sir *clapping sounds* *magistrate screaming something about getting back to work*

THE MAGISTRATE, a creature resembling a chalked peacock, is banging his fists against the glass, screaming about something we can't quite hear, something about calling CentComm, something that might almost be important, but his wig is so strangely shaped and his clothing so mesmerisingly weird that it's impossible to make out. THE NT REP was also there.

Edited by Piccione

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