Ranger Study
Copyright (c) 1999
by Scott Weisman

Ranger was perhaps the most undesirable peep, if he even deserved the
name, to roam the towers at least since Trog's time, if not ever. He
was loathsome to the point that the normally huggy-touchy-feely peeps
would shy away from even shaking his hand.

Poor Ranger. He didn't talk about his background much, but it seems he
grew up in Point Loma, a wealthy enclave populated by retired
admirals, newspaper moguls and the like. Couple that with siblings who
taunted and treated him like a plaything and parents who ignored him.
The result was a non-developed 18 year-old child with a tremendous
inferiority complex and sense of failure.

Worse, his pitiful attempts at art and poetry would only alienate him
more among the typically well-adjusted and much more talented peeps.
He was a terrible writer and spent most of time writing sad excuses
for poems and stories, about his plight of being misunderstood in a
cold and uncaring world, and draw large, grotesque and space-wasting
murals where he fancied himself...a ranger, friend to all. This was
all the worse when he didn't received the expected accolades and
recognition of the greatness of his work.

He tried to endear himself to every single female peep, to no avail,
and he managed to instantly turn them all off, even Sparta. He was
entirely charmless. He would talk about his fascination with weapons
that would slowly evolve to fantasies about inflicting pain and
ultimately reveal a deep, unfulfilled sadistic yearning. Or at least
that's what it seemed like. Gil, who knew him best, insisted
otherwise. Many writers were, for a time, worried that he would resort
to physical violence, though he never did.

When he realized one personality (Ranger) wasn't working, he would try
another (Lone Wolf) and yet another (Unicron), each time denying it,
even though the writing and style were identical. He was steadfast,
believing the peeps were oblivious, and became furious with rage when
I addressed him once on the walls using all three names, and accused
me of revealing his secret. He even claimed he ran into Unicron in the
towers and was assaulted by him. Maybe he really was deluded?

Unlike other attempted and unaccepted peeps, he persevered, to no
avail. There was a collective sigh of relief as he slowly withdrew
from the towers and eventually stopped altogether.

The towers certainly didn't suit Ranger. He did stop writing and moved
on to, well, greener pastures (so to speak). He became a body guard at
a downtown strip joint, thus satisfying his twisted chivalric code to
protect fair maidens from rabid, frothing suitors (such as himself!),
and at the same time putting him in a position to inflict deep,
lingering pain.

He ran off with an "employee" to Oregon to follow his dream, probably
to end in failure.