Hello, I used to be an incredibly active and very friendly member of BB surf, I generally loved the server and its members, i loved the conflict that'd randomly occur and the incredibly friendly playerbase that came with it as well as the overwhelming and very understanding staff, I have came after a while to express my longing to play the only active and well structured surf server once more, I understand that I was banned for 'Extortion' and realize that, honestly was the stupidest thing to try, the ex-member that tried to ddos and harrass the server constantly messaged me, and i generally didnt like the member, so i wanted to perhaps give Teddi a helping hand in stopping the ddos waves because it was impossible to play on, I stupidly asked for something before giving the information which eventually led to my ban. I have over a period of time thought many times over that it was an incredibly stupid thing to do, and that the real benefit wasnt the cosmetics in the game but the actual server and members itself [and the crippiling crate-opening addiction], I am back to hopefully be given a second chance to once play the server again, aside from this ban I dont believe I have ANY punishments whatsoever. I hopefully wish that Teddi and the staff understand my appeal, and I hope once again to join the community to surf mindlessly once more. Sanzu 76561198215553792
> Be chilling, living my best life > Remember that one dude who tried extortion? Karma gave him a high-five... in the face > Fast forward, he's back, tail between his legs > I'm like, "Oh, return of the failed Bond villain" > Hit them with a "Thought you were in the extortion game, not boomerang championships" > Block them faster than you can say "lmao" > They try again? "Oh, must be auditioning for the role of 'The World's Least Wanted'. Spoiler: You got the part." > Drop a "Keep collecting those L's, maybe you'll spell 'idiot' right eventually" > Watching them try to worm their way back is the new comedy gold Bare minimum you can actually do is say sorry or put something together that remotely sounds like an apology. Throw that together with who the supposed attacker was with any reasonable proof and that would be the first steps to even being considered.
You know, apologies are like puzzle pieces, aren't they? They're these little fragments of understanding and remorse that we offer, hoping they'll fit into the bigger picture of forgiveness and reconciliation. And while I genuinely appreciate your apology, I can't help but feel like there's still this vast expanse of uncertainty stretching out before us. Mistakes, oh boy, they're like signposts on this winding road of life, aren't they? They point out where we've stumbled, where we've veered off course. And I truly believe in the power of learning from them, of growing and evolving as individuals. But sometimes, even with all the learning in the world, it feels like we're still standing at the foot of this mountain, staring up at its daunting heights. So, yes, I accept your apology, because I believe in second chances and in the beauty of forgiveness. But at the same time, there's this lingering ache, this sense that there's more work to be done, more bridges to be built before we can truly move forward. And I'm willing to put in that work, to walk that path alongside you, but I can't deny that it's going to take time, patience, and a whole lot of effort from both of us.
Ahoy there, ye scurvy dog! It be with a heavy heart an' a disappointed glare that I must deliver to ye this message from the depths of the briny deep. We've been waitin', watchin', and wonderin' if ye'd have the courage to face us once more, to stand before the crew an' plead yer case for yer ban appeal. But alas, like a timid sea creature that scurries away at the first sign o' danger, ye've failed to return to us, ye have. In the code o' the sea, there be no greater sin than turnin' yer back on those who've given ye a chance to make amends. Ye've shown yerself to be nothin' more than a coward, a bilge-sucking barnacle on the ship of camaraderie. We gave ye the opportunity to hoist yer colors, to show that ye be worthy of sailin' with us once again. But ye chose the path of the coward, disappearin' into the mist like a ghost ship in the night. Therefore, by the powers vested in me by the salty winds and the roarin' waves, I hereby declare that yer appeal for returnin' to our ranks be denied. Ye'll find no quarter here, no chance for redemption. Ye be cast adrift, left to navigate the stormy seas of isolation with naught but yer own regret for company. So off with ye now, to the shadowy depths from whence ye came. May the sea show ye more mercy than ye showed courage, for yer journey henceforth be a lonely one. Farewell and good riddance, ye cowardly cur. Captain Teddi