Facts About Captain Robau
- Thread starter Herkimer Jitty
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*steps away from Warped9* Oy, don't want to stand too close to you when Robau reads this. No offence mate.
Robar did get this thread up till page 401. There is no stopping us now!! Hail Robau!!
Robar did get this thread up till page 401. There is no stopping us now!! Hail Robau!!
Only 99 more pages to go--and we shall enter the Golden Age of Robau!
ALL HAIL THE MIGHTY EMPEROR: HIS SUPREME AWESOMENESS, CAPTAIN ROBAU MAXIMUS!!!
ALL HAIL THE MIGHTY EMPEROR: HIS SUPREME AWESOMENESS, CAPTAIN ROBAU MAXIMUS!!!
Captain Robau loves the smell of Klingon blood in the morning.
Robau demands a tribute of ten thousand posts before the first anniversary of His bestowing His greatness on our undeserving eyes...
... or he couldn't care less one way or the other.
... or he couldn't care less one way or the other.
His power as a one man meme amuses him.
Captain Robau loves the smell of PLASMA COOLANT in the morning!!!
(Check out Star Trek: First Contact, and observe the significance of that statement....
)
Robau does not have to eat his vegetables. Raw meat gives him all the vitamins he could want.
Robau once bailed out a space bank with one trillion punches to the solar plexus.
Robau eats his hot dogs with mustard spiced with his own distilled rage.
And some good imported saurkraut.
When those "Have you any grey poupon?" guys showed up, almost kicked their asses. But as annoying as they are, beating up some old guys just ain't his bag, baby.
And some good imported saurkraut.
When those "Have you any grey poupon?" guys showed up, almost kicked their asses. But as annoying as they are, beating up some old guys just ain't his bag, baby.
Robau taught George Kirk everything he knew. Including how to impregnate a spouse. Firsthand.
... as he did to all the males of the quadrant. And females. And undertermined.
Again, Robau's standard of awesome is a high one. But strive we must.
And it's fun trying to figure it out.
Robau has shown us the path. We either follow it...or we don't. And then he crushes us beneath his bootheel to make way for the more badass.
Robau doesn't crush us under his boots. We ARE his boots.
And these boots are made for walkin'. That's just what we'll do. One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you...
...ready, boots? Start walkin'...
...ready, boots? Start walkin'...
I wonder, how many of us make one boot?
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