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Description
The big owner and editor of the Gramptstampl Gazette, Mucks Pulst is one of the most reliable and totally honest journalists within the many zones (so he says). Always looking for the next big scoop or scandalous story, Mr. Pulst does all that he can to make sure his newspaper is #1 in all the business, even if it calls for completely making a few things up. Any who have dealt with him for interviews or a nice round of "shout incoherent questions and accusations in the general direction of a person and write up their confused response," know that they must watch their every word and action when around him. Not only is he a master of taking things out of context, but he is some how capable of even taking basic gestures out of context and finding some zone or realm where such a movement translates to something obscene and offensive. Once his horrendously skewed story is found, he will write up a nice poppy title that will grab the eye, usually containing more adjectives than actual nouns. With that and a few incriminating photos from Melaini, his body will whir and grind to spit out a fresh hot paper to sell to the masses.

He is a chain smoker, always puffing on a big cigar no matter where he is at, or how improbable such an action is. He keeps a stash of them on his person at all times, and never seems to run out. He will acknowledge the fact that some places say "No Smoking" or people may complain about it, but he continues puffing away without skipping a beat. To him, smoking big cigars is the sign of a successful business man, and any big boss worth their salt should have one to look the part. To make things worse, he talks a mile a minute and loves to throw in exaggerations to make everything he says sound better. Often his lightening fast questions and accusations are purposefully asked at such an incomprehensible pace so that he can write that their confusion was totally them being caught off-guard by his journalist prowess and his ability to sniff out secrets and scandals no matter how deep they are buried.

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"What a scoop! What a scoop! Shake those presses and slap those writers, we got ourselves one juicy tale that can't be missed! Get those pictures, bribe those coworkers! We got a story to print and a legacy to smear! Come mornin' every person and their dog will be talkin' a mean streak about it and we are at the front lines of it all, baby! Old Man Hickory be shakin' in his boots at the tongue train, I will tell you that! We got them bad and we got them big! Just you watch, baby, we hit the streets with these hot words and we will be the top of the heap, I'll tell you what! Soon we'll be livin' in those penthouse suites, sippin' whiskey out of a scotch and smokin' big CI-GARS!"

Couldn't leave this guy alone forever. Takes just a single moment to get his voice stuck in my head, so I figured I should at least give him an update. I ditched the arm typewriter, as it seemed to clunky and I couldn't get it to fit right. I like this more sleek version of him.

"And smokin' big CI-GARS!" That will never leave my head...

Description
The big owner and editor of the Gramptstampl Gazette, Mucks Pulst is one of the most reliable and totally honest journalists within the many zones (so he says). Always looking for the next big scoop or scandalous story, Mr. Pulst does all that he can to make sure his newspaper is #1 in all the business, even if it calls for completely making a few things up. Any who have dealt with him for interviews or a nice round of "shout incoherent questions and accusations in the general direction of a person and write up their confused response," know that they must watch their every word and action when around him. Not only is he a master of taking things out of context, but he is some how capable of even taking basic gestures out of context and finding some zone or realm where such a movement translates to something obscene and offensive. Once his horrendously skewed story is found, he will write up a nice poppy title that will grab the eye, usually containing more adjectives than actual nouns. With that and a few incriminating photos from Melaini, his body will whir and grind to spit out a fresh hot paper to sell to the masses.

He is a chain smoker, always puffing on a big cigar no matter where he is at, or how improbable such an action is. He keeps a stash of them on his person at all times, and never seems to run out. He will acknowledge the fact that some places say "No Smoking" or people may complain about it, but he continues puffing away without skipping a beat. To him, smoking big cigars is the sign of a successful business man, and any big boss worth their salt should have one to look the part. To make things worse, he talks a mile a minute and loves to throw in exaggerations to make everything he says sound better. Often his lightening fast questions and accusations are purposefully asked at such an incomprehensible pace so that he can write that their confusion was totally them being caught off-guard by his journalist prowess and his ability to sniff out secrets and scandals no matter how deep they are buried.

----------------------------------------------------------------

"What a scoop! What a scoop! Shake those presses and slap those writers, we got ourselves one juicy tale that can't be missed! Get those pictures, bribe those coworkers! We got a story to print and a legacy to smear! Come mornin' every person and their dog will be talkin' a mean streak about it and we are at the front lines of it all, baby! Old Man Hickory be shakin' in his boots at the tongue train, I will tell you that! We got them bad and we got them big! Just you watch, baby, we hit the streets with these hot words and we will be the top of the heap, I'll tell you what! Soon we'll be livin' in those penthouse suites, sippin' whiskey out of a scotch and smokin' big CI-GARS!"

Couldn't leave this guy alone forever. Takes just a single moment to get his voice stuck in my head, so I figured I should at least give him an update. I ditched the arm typewriter, as it seemed to clunky and I couldn't get it to fit right. I like this more sleek version of him.

"And smokin' big CI-GARS!" That will never leave my head...