Ok, here's how to unsubscribe yourself from the Thrash list. It is a long and complex process, often taking years of dedication to fully master.
Take a bowl of sugar and pour it into the gas tank of your local Anti-RPG moron's car (there's at least one in every town, ninety in mine actually). Make sure that said moron is waching you do it. Rob will also be watching (he sees all and knows all) and will start the ball rolling.
After paying the fine and/or dealing with the law suit, take a train to Graceland. Find a statue of Elvis with a bum lying next to it while wearing a ragged denim trench-coat. Hand the bum two fifty dollar bills who will give you the code phrase (beer). The bum will in fact be Notmoose who will report back to Rob that you have successfuly completed the second great labor.
Find a gang member (preferably a large one with multiple tatoos and/or body piercings) and engage him in friendly conversation. The gang member (who will actually be one of a multitude of undercover Thrash agents spreading the joys of thrash to the disadvantaged youth) will gently rap a message in moras code with his fist on your face. Hidden within that message is your next destination.
Fly to the place indicated by the undercover thrasher and look for a police officer on duty. This will in fact be Brad. Throw several code phrases at Brad (pig, donught, smack, etc.) and he will gladly give you a lift to your next destination.
At the Police Department, you will be escorted to a cell while Brad reports on your success in getting this far in the trials. To keep you entertained, a large gentleman with several pounds of metal implanted directly into his skin will keep you company. This gentleman will in fact be Chris Hoffmann (aka Staredown, me, myself, and I). Unfortunately, this will be interupting my usual routine of eating, sleeping, and working on thrash stuff, so I wll be a bit surelyer than usual. Sliping me a couple of hundreds will greatly improve my disposition and incidently, increase your chances of being unsubscribed.
After leaving your quarters via an unconventional use of sope, metal and leather, head for Old Mexico. At the border you will be met by Remo, cleverly disguised as a border guard (yep, we've got the entire planet wired). He will accompany you to his employer Balrog's (or Vega's,
depending on who you ask) estate. There you will be wined and dined as a rest from your harrowing journey. Rest. Recover. The final, and hardest task is yet to come.
Fly to Tokyo Japan (every otaku's dream) and visit the tokyo tower. Ewen Cluney, yes blackbird himself, will be looking down from the top of the tower at you through a high-powered sniper scope. Go to the base of the tower and eat octopus sush while singing 'Kanawa Hurricane' with your mouth full. Ewen will drop a 10 pound sandbag on your head, that is the final signal that your request to be unsubscribed has been recieved and you will be unsubscribed as soon as Ewen relays the message to Rob.
Or you could simply send a message to thrash-unsubscribe@eGroups.com, but if you're a real roleplayer, you'll choose the seven step methid.
