Treniota Czartoryski, the newly-ascended Archduke of Constantinople, sat in stunned silence. His noble father, the great Archduke Traidenis Czartoryski, one of the Fathers of the Eastern Union and one of Lithuania's most brilliant and dynamic statesmen, had just earlier today been publicly executed by Leino Valtari the Mad, the so-called "Emperor" of the Eastern Union, for crimes he didn't actually commit. During his mad rantings and ravings, the Mad Tyrant Valtari called out Traidenis for a list of supposed offences and insults; none of which, however, were ever actually given. Treniota could only surmise that the self-styled "Emperor" was truly, surely mad, perhaps afflicted by the infamous disease of the mind the sages and godspeakers call "metagaming" - the making of decisions and taking of action based on things that never occured in this world.

To express his very justified distaste of the Mad Tyrant's vile misdeeds, Treniota took out his quill and penned a great letter, to be mailed directly to the Mad Tyrant himself, and to be copied via these newfangled printing presses and posted across notice boards and newspapers throughout the entire Union. The letter, in its eternal glory. read:

What the fuck did you just fucking kill my father for, you little bum? I'll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Certified Mk7 Winning coalition, and I've been involved in numerous redacted plots on Schleswig-Holstein, and I have over 300 confirmed assassinations. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I'm the top player in the entire EU roster. You are nothing to me but just another Caesar. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before in this Baltics, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with assassinating my father for no reason in the plotdoc? Think again, scrub. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of puppets across the Baltic region and your city control is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, fuckwit. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You're fucking dead, nerd. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that's just with one underinvested personal plot. Not only am I extensively trained in meme plots, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the Eastern Union Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little punk. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little """clever""" plot was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking submit button . But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you goddamn moron. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You're fucking dead, scrub.