The Cream of the Crop [TCOTC] - Organizations

History

It is under duress that the author contributes this submission on The Cream of the Crop. It’s members, known throughout the ‘Verse as “Creampies”, are well known for punishing anything resembling slander with both physical and economic violence. Fortunately, Creampies are almost ubiquitously illiterate and as such it is the author’s hope that the author will remain unmolested by Creampies following publication of this entry.

Famous for their graceless and threatening mannerisms, Creampies as a collective are megalomaniacal, callous and blindly destructive troglodytes who, incomprehensibly, have managed to establish themselves as a premier mercantile, logistics, and (less surprisingly) security consultancy within the Empire.

Little first hand information is known of The Cream of the Crop as they keep no organizational history (or records of any kind) and the majority of documents produced by its earliest members have long since been destroyed or their locations lost. Behind closed doors, anthropologists debate whether the success of the Creampies is the result of a long history of savvy recruitment practices and business acumen or the cosmically improbable outcome of centuries of incestuous monkey business by a gaggle of extra-chromosomal, over-muscled savants. The truth, as it turns out, lies somewhere in the middle, yet is infinitely more preposterous than either alternative.

Recent archaeological evidence has uncovered centuries old, encrypted records of a deliberate strategy by the organization’s founders to select the “luckiest” Creampies for breeding. Their rationale was that natural selection had bred luck into all surviving species as an incidental byproduct, similar to consciousness, but that no known species had intentionally been bred to be luckier. The founders embarked on this initiative knowing they would not live to see the fruits of their labor, privately referring to the experiment amongst themselves as “creaming their genes”.

There is, of course, not a single shred of evidence in the entire scientific corpus supporting the notion of genetic luck. Yet upon reviewing countless hours worth of leaked footage filming these moronic behemoths screaming nonsense, cracking jokes, and cackling into their comms equipment while securing contracts with budgets dwarfing the imperial treasury, it is clear that contemporary explanations are not sufficient. The author concludes that the Creampies’ success is due either to the brilliant foresight of its founders’ scientific discovery millennia ahead of their time, or, more likely, that there is a God, and he does not love us.

Manifesto

“Wherever you go, I will be with you, I’ll always be with you, Yeah! The moon, the stars, Venus, Pluto, Saturn, yeah, lookin’ down.”

Forward

Note from RSI Organizations Communications Department – Following the multiple hospitalizations of solicitors tasked with obtaining the physical documents required for submission by the Org. Registrar, the Department Head has elected to allow a one-time exception to the “Manifesto Submission” portion of registration. The Department Head would like to emphasize the absence of any connection between this bureaucratic exception and the substantial anonymous donations made recently to the department. In lieu of a document, the Department has registered a transcript of an audio excerpt from the most recent solicitor’s attempt to inquire as to the organization’s purpose, found below.

Transcript

Solicitor > You’ve mentioned a “tower of power” on multiple occasions and it’s my obligation as a RSI OCD representative to inform you of the restrictions surrounding organization driven construction on projects over a certain budget threshold.

[Multiple voices at once.]

Man 1 > [shouting] IT’S ABOUT THE CREAM, BROTHER

Man 2 > [also shouting] CAN’T STOP AT THE TIPPY TOP

Man 3 > [whispering into recorder] rising to the tippy top [now shouting] TOO HOT TO HANDLE, TOO COLD TO DROP

Man 1 > [shouting] YOU KNOW THAT WE’RE THE CREAM OF THE CROP

[Multiple voices]

Man 1 > [shouting] I HAVE A MESSAGE FOR THE PRESIDENT… [sounds of commotion, incoherent] … TILL IM BACK IN CHARGE, FUNKY LIKE A MONKEY SPUNKY LIKE A JUNKY

[audio missing]

Man 3 > [shouting] YOU’RE A ZERO, PRIMA DONNA

Man 2 > [shouting] I’M THE HEAT AND YOU’RE IN MY SAUNA

Solicitor > [shakily] I told you I have no idea who Elizabeth is.

Man 2 > Remember the name [shouting] AVOID THE PAIN

Man 1 > [shouting] WE’RE THE CREAM AT THE TIPPY TOP

Man 3 > [shouting] THE CREAM OF THE CROP

Solicitor > Please stop rhyming, I just need to fill out the form and I can leave you to whatever you people do.
[sounds of commotion, scrambling, muffled scream]

Man 1 > [shouting distantly] SKY’S THE LIMIT, SPACE IS THE PLACE

// End of Transcript

Charter

“Soaring with the eagles and slithering with the snakes, I’ve been everywhere in between, I am your friend, I am the Macho Man Randy Savage. Speaking from the heart, it’s the Macho Man talking to you right now, let’s rock, dig it, dig it! Freak out, Freak out, ooh yeah! This is the way it is and I will be there when it happens, the past the present and the future all in one time. We’re all gonna climb that mountain together and we are together forever, ooh yeah!”