Pimpcron: 40k Has a Weird Economy, and You Think You Hate Marketers NOW!
Well here we are. I hope you’re happy now. You just had to have your weekly fix of the P-diddly Cron-iddly. Since we’re here, I might as well tell you something about something – commerce in the Grimdark.
If you think about it, the Imperium of Man is made of people like you: humans. I mean, of course they have some undesirable Abhumans among them just like we have Magic players. They must buy and sell stuff just like we do, and they are ape-feces crazy over their religious leader which we have a history of doing as well. Let’s face it: they are us (and we are them for those of you not following along). Which leads me to the conclusion that they must have all of our annoying marketing habits because why fix what is clearly broken but effective?
Telemarketers Will Be Scarier
A simple civilian is trying to have some down time in between his two ten-hour shifts at work in the manufactorum. He gets a call while eating dinner with his dirty-faced family.
He picks it up and here’s, “This is a notice that the Chaos-corruption warranty on your skull implant is about to end. This is your final notice to extend the warranty or you will be left uncovered. Wait, don’t hang up! Our Psykers indicate that you are about to hang up the phone! Without this warranty, Chaos daemons can teleport directly into your brain! Our Psykers tell us that you should think of your wife of twenty-seven years named Mar- what was that? Martha! And … your five children Marnius, Logar, Cellestine, Jebodiah, and Karen. Think of the look on their faces when the daemons in your skull force an exterminatus on your planet!”
The Emperor Will Be Everywhere
You know full well that the blood-thirsty marketing teams could not allow the Emperor to sit quietly on that chair. When you want a celebrity endorsement, you want to go top shelf. You don’t want some lowly Planetary governor on your screen trying to speak the praises of low-priced car insurance. You want the Man himself, the Empruh. With the use of string and a team of skilled puppeteers, you’ll see the Emperor in literally every commercial plugging products. He can’t physically say no, and everyone just loves to see him up and about. Every still moment in Imperial TV would be a commercial featuring the big golden boy peddling some product or another.
“Please Kill Me…”
“Sitting on that throne all the time has made me an expert in hemorrhoid treatment. [one arms goes floppy but they recover it] I’ve tried everything from Smiting them off to ordering Micro-Exterminatus; but nothing helped. That is, until I tried Cawl’s Servitor Gel. [gel tube obviously taped to his hand] It’s got a two-part soothing action that suffers not the hemorrhoid to live. [head slumps unnaturally] Because an itchy backside is the ultimate heresy! You can find Cawl’s Servitor Gel in your daily rations and a bill for it in the mail.”
Doctor’s Offices Will Be Odd
You walk into the office and an emotionless servitor with pens for fingers fills out your information and stares blankly ahead. Not that unlike today’s front office staff, come to think of it. In the far future of the 41st millennium, the local auto mechanic and the doctor has merged, being that so many implants are common. The doctor comes walking out of the back room, arms black with grease up to his elbows. He’s wiping his hands with a dirty cloth and grease smudges on his face.
Here is part of the paper work you have to fill out:
Name, Age, Height, Weight, Power Source, Make, Model #
Have you ever/do you currently suffer from:
- Headaches
- Daemonic Possession
- Flickering Eye Socket Light Bulb
- Giant Wrench-Arm Gone Crazy
- Doubts About The Emperor
- Nurgle Plagues
- Crippling Dystopian Depression
- Orkoid Toenail Fungus
- Sausage Fingers
- Tank Tracks For Legs
- Itchy Implants
- Gruel Allergy
- Anti-Inquisitional Thoughts
- Itchy Nether Regions
- Tau-like Breath
- Digital Diabetes
- Hardware Virus
- Toby Keith Music Addiction
Sleazy Morticians
It is pretty standard procedure that everyone’s skull becomes a buzzing, flying servo skull when they die. You just know there will be companies that capitalize on that. “Come on down to Crazy Mortimer’s Discount Coffins and Servo-Skull Emporium and Warehouse! Hi I’m Crazy Mortimer and we have the largest selection of short coffins and flying skull devices this side of Cadia! How better to remember your mother’s winning smile than to get her skull made into a servo-assistant! When you buy our coffins, we cut the head off and make a servo-skull out of it, which cuts down on coffin material costs and we pass the savings on to YOOOOUUUUUUUUU!”
What else would you find in this world?
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