We meet lots of special people in WoW.
When the raid leader calls for everyone to switch to a new target the special people don’t have to switch.
They are so special that they are not included in “everyone.”
They are in a league all of their own.
“All ranged DPS switch to infernals!”
Not the special ones.
They get to merrily pewpew their hearts out on one target.
Their DPS is so crucial on some other target it will overcome any bothersome mechanic like portals continually spawning mistresses.
“Hunters take down frost spheres!”
We were graced with the presence of not one, but two special hunters over the weekend. In the same raid, even.
So special that the adds burrowed and we wiped.
I’ve never seen an add burrow before on Anub.
“Ranged DPS on Onyxia only, don’t touch the whelps!”
Except the special ones.
Of course your DPS is higher than mine.
Special players don’t have to clutter up their action bars with pesky utility spells.
I imagine their UI has 3 or 4 buttons that do damage and half the screen is taken up by their Recount.
The other half of the screen is probably a chat pane full of conversations about how special they are.
My job would be so much easier if I was special.
I could just stand in one spot and shoot at whatever I felt like.
Wouldn’t even need to be in vent since I wouldn’t need to listen to the raid leader.
I could stand in fire.
I would be special so the healers would have to heal me.
(My recount and chat panes would be filling the screen so I wouldn’t be able to see the fire anyway.)
I’m special, the tank will pull it off me.
Matter of fact, if something comes my way, it’s the tank’s fault anyway.
I’m too special to be bothered with managing my threat.
Bad tank must be bad if special player is special.
Special people also get to leave raids after the first wipe.
They’re too special to waste their time with the unskilled masses.
But before bailing, special people are gracious enough to share their insight about the problem at hand.
Their astute observations are always appreciated by the people that remain.
With those parting words of wisdom, they leave in a flurry of fluffy clouds and rainbows, borne off in a chariot pulled by a team of unicorns.
Special unicorns for special people.
I just want the unicorns. I hear they taste like chicken.