(Original credit, goes to WedgedLamb, who posted this golden reply on http://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/93312725/0/0 )
[quote]I've played with [b]SmoggyPluto[/b] before, I'll tell you, that bro deserves it. He's always got his teammates back. He'll jump in there when your taking fire. Literally took multiple bullets for me. One time I lost my dog and he found it for me. He lent me money when I was behind on bills. Taught me how to change a tire.
Honestly I can't think of anyone who deserves the gjallahorn more.[/quote]
It made me laugh, as did the response to it.
So I figured I'd post it so we could all share our stories of this legendary guardian.
Smoggy, we salute you.
[b]Edit:[/b] Loving the response so far, keep them coming guardians.
I wonder if/when Smoggy will see this? What would he say?
[b]Edit2:[/b] We are now trending.
[b]Edit3:[/b] These responses required archiving.
Buckbeard - http://i.imgur.com/H8hMx8t.jpg
Zeezke99 - http://s29.postimg.org/qzclx969j/Smoggy_Pluto.jpg
[b]Edit4:[/b] 8778086
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7 RepliesMy head was pounding. I pulled my glasses off and set them on the table. I wasn't sure if I should be more concerned about the way my hands shook when I set the glasses down, or how little I cared about the shaking. Either way, I was hoping a drink might settle them down. I rubbed my temple while looking at the blue prints again. There was a part of my brain that understood that just staring at them over and over wouldn't help, but the rest of my brain couldn't resist scanning them one more time. Finally I stood and began pacing. I was done; worn out physically, emotionally and intellectually. I had reached my limit and wasn't sure what could be done from here. I grabbed a glass and poured some whiskey into it and quickly swallowed. I turned to Joe, who was still studying the blueprints. "We're stuck." I told him. "If we make it larger, the mass becomes too much and we can't create enough velocity. If we make it smaller, then we can't get enough force." Joe looked up from the blueprints. He studied my face. "There's a way. This is too important. We will beat the soviets to the moon." He turned back towards the plans and muttered "There's always a way. Even if it's just hanging on until you get lucky." Even though I knew his intentions were good, I could feel my frustration overwhelming me, washing away the reasonable parts of my mind. I turned to him and shouted a little more forcefully then I meant to. "What can we do? The two of us have been over these plans so many times I see them in my dreams. It's a paradox. We can't just launch our rocket into space! We are either too heavy or we are too light. It's not possible." Joe dropped his pen and looked at me in a way I had never seen before. His eyes seemed to come alive and burn into me. "What did you say?" he asked me in a soft voice. My frustration gave way to hesitancy and, to be honest, a little fear. "Nothing Joe, I'm just frustrated. I'm sorry." He started walking towards me, in slow, measured steps. "No, what did you say?" He repeated. I subconsciously took a step backwards. "Nothing Joe. Just that we either have to much weight or not enough force." Joe paused, and turned his head to the side, almost like he was listening to something outside. He lowered his voice again, to almost a whisper, "No, no. Before that. What did you say before that?" "About a rocket launcher? I don't know what you mean. What are you talking about Joe?" Before he could answer, the sound of a glass shattering rang out from the front of the house. Before I could even react, Joe's hand clamped like a vice over my mouth. In his other hand, a pistol materialized. His eyes froze me in my tracks. He leaned in close and whispered "No sounds. Do you hear me? You can't make a sound. We have to move." His hand dropped off my mouth and I immediately asked "What was that Joe? What is going on?" I realized I was whispering, and was thankful that at least part of my brain was functioning and not spinning out of control like I felt. He turned back towards me and hissed "You have to be quiet. No sounds, it's not safe here. We have to move. I don't have time to explain everything right now." He grabbed my hand and started pulling me towards the middle of the house. "What is going on? I don't understand." I whispered back to him. He dragged me through the halls of the house. His only response was "I don't have time to explain why I don't have time to explain." My mind was racing. What does that even mean? Wouldn't it just have just been as quick to actually explain, even a little? What was going on in the house? Why did Joe have a gun and where had he been hiding it? Should I be scared? As we went by the kitchen, Joe turned off all the lights, but opened the fridge. He threw a bowl from the kitchen into the living room, hesitated, then pulled me into the garage. Once inside, he locked the door behind us and shuffled us to the window. He seemed to be scanning the garage, when he finally turned to me. "I need you to listen to me. I am going to tell you a lot of shit, really fast, and you have to understand it all. I am a scientist, but I also work for the CIA. The soviets have been watching you, and I was assigned to protect you and to help on this project." I started to speak, but he silenced me with a look. "We need to make it to the moon before them. And I think you just stumbled across how to do it. The moon is the last frontier, it's our Camelot. Reaching for the stars is not just something that we as people must strive to do, it must become our destiny. It will elevate us as a people, and maybe just bring this whole crazy world together, even for a moment. This is worth everything." I was bewildered, speechless. He saw it in my face and began speaking again. "The soviets are here. I have got to get you out of here. There are four access points to the garage. The door we came through, the large, automated door in front of us, the back door and this window. I need you to hide here. I'm going to open the garage door, and shoot out the back. Hopefully this will draw everyone to me and I'm going to draw them away from you. Once it's quiet, I need you to count to 50. Head out the window and over the hedge." I think he could see the fear in my eyes starting to overwhelm me. He grabbed my arm tighter and shook me slightly. "You have to do this." He told me. "You were right about everything. We need to launch the rocket. A two-stage rocket. A rocket launcher in our rocket. We need to get a rocket launcher." I nodded at him. I was starting to feel numb, but the logical part of my brain was starting to process information again. I could already see the rocket and rocket launcher beginning to take shape. I swallowed hard, "I can do it Joe. We have a plan, and I can make it." He crouched down and headed to the back door. I ducked, but then he came back. "My name isn't Joe," he told me. "When you get to the CIA office, you need to use my codename." I nodded again. The adrenaline coursed through my body. My nerves felt like they were on fire and I felt like I could make it to the moon just by jumping. He headed back to the door. As he readied to open it, I whispered to him, "Wait, I don't know what your codename is!" He looked at me for ten seconds, then a slight smile creased his lips. "Smoggypluto." His hand grabbed the back door nob. "Tell them smoggypluto sent you. We have to get that rocket launcher Pete. It's all up to you now." He uncoiled as he threw open the backdoor. I heard his gun ring out four times as the large garage door slowly jerked along its mechanical track. Russian shouts and retuning gunfire filled the night, as I crouched under the window. That night I ran harder than I have ever run. When I made the CIA office, they took me in and, before I could even come to my senses, I was already designing what would become the basis of our American space flight program. I fought tooth and nail for that first shuttle to be called the smoggypluto or the pluto, but the CIA overruled and said that the name carried too much sensitive information. They never did tell me what happened to my friend smoggypluto that night. But, seeing him here today, seeing him finally, after all this time, able to finally get that rocket launcher, makes me feel like it was all worth it.