Garak: Where do I begin. My father was a relentlessly self-improving leader of a ruthless intelligence agency with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a prostitute from Lakarian City named Mila with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse edosian orchids of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical. Summers in the Mekar Wilderness, luge lessons. In the spring we’d make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds, pretty standard, really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of 18 an Oralian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum, it’s breathtaking, I suggest you try it.
Everyone else at the baby shower:
