Lemonking

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Lemonking is or was a member of the HL2.net forums famous for his winning combination of hard-on-for-authority-fascist politics, brutishly straightforward debate 'technique' and bizarre outbursts of stupidity. Summed up by a member of Halflife2.net: "Lemonkind, you're a racist asshole".

History

Lemonking was a young lad from Germany when he joined the forums. In short order he created a number of stirs, such as claiming a picture of a clown found on a humerous website was in fact his mother and crying that 'Brain worms' had colonised his head-meat - admittedly a not implausible happenstance.

He was eventually banned for his posts in the politics forum, which consisted generally of borderline holocaust denial, incoherent swearing, vague nationalism and vicious but mainly unprovoked attacks on opponents. This, combined with the lack of actual argument in his arguments, which is generally construed as trolling, secured his banishment.

But Lemonking would return time and time again - sometimes through pestering a benevolent Munro to unban him, sometimes through alternative accounts. Each time, he was eventually kicked out once again for failing to change his behaviour. This eternal, hellish cycle of return, retard, retreat, return has led some users to compare him to KngHenry; although Lemonking has frequently attempted to re-invent himself as a new man (e.g. 'Spicy Tuna', 'Aenema'), he has never succeeded in banishing The Curse of Lemonking.

The Curse

There's no escaping the lemonking.

If you lived secluded in a castle and broke, with your crude fists, all of the mirrors for miles around, the sheer fact of being lemonking would be yet inescapable.

"Out with you, lemonking! Leave me be!" you would cry, but to no avail. Lemonking is burned into your character like a cattle-brand upon your soul.

In two-score years, when you are brought before tribunal for some unmentionable crime, the press will hound you, snapping at your heels - the very name so scorned, slathering at their lips.

"Lemonking, why did you do it?" they cry in unison, and with a glance upon your features, the answer will speak itself: "Because I am the lemonking, most monstrous amoung men. Reviled yet not feared, secluded in this stout tower far from the eyes of humanity, hiding even from myself."

And in their pity, the press will circulate that cursed name, so ingrained upon your person, throughout the lands as tales of news soon turn to legend. Lemonking will be the name of the shadows beneath children's beds, and lemonking will inhabit the pitch of space and the brackish depths of the ocean.

Sailors and youngrels alike will remember, vaguely, the lemonking as a monster both great in turpitude and small with trepidity.

But the name! The name will remain the constant. A fixed, polar star, burning in the heavens with disgrace unimaginable. The men of future times will look to this star and intone amongst themselves:

"By grace of nature's contingent whim, I Am No Lemonking!"