Welcome to the world of Space Wars: Bafflefrond II! This series of guides will let you know everything that could possibly be utilized to prevent your death at the hands of the RebEarls, the Presbyterian Church, Space Southerners, Cloones, or (the far likelier possibility) friendly fire!

There are four factions in Bafflefrond. Cloones, Space Southerners, The Rebel Earlliance, and the Derpire. Since the former three suck out loud, you will join the glorious Derpire.

Now that you're in the Derpire (with no foreseeable way out), you will now choose the role that you will help you best die for serve the glorious Derpieral cause.

The humble Derp Trooper, completely unremarkable in every single way. A group of fifteen could be mistaken for a blizzard or low altitude cloud, much like the humble zebra. But don't let the inherent banality of being the same as over one hundred billion others get you down, it is completely replaceable and expendable soldiers like you that win battles and clog enemy weapons with your dead bodies. You get a blaster, the dullest and most practical weapon the Derpire has to offer. Toss yours anywhere and pick up a new one, they're all the same. Armor (made from 100% recycled Easter egg plastic) comes in Whitewash, Alabaster Breeze, and Electric Eggshell. Look at the official Derp Co. Catalogue for winter offerings!

You refuse to fit into the role the MAN has imposed on the other Derp Troopers! No! You shall stand out! That's why you're wearing this orange bib on your shoulder, because you are special and own a hybrid car. In fact, your intense (and possibly psychotic and irrational) hatred of pollution spewing vehicles has led you to ditch the oh-so mainstream blaster for something far more trendy: a rocket launcher! Never mind that this leaves you at a severe disadvantage against everyone else equipped with real weapons, consider it the "hardcore mode" of the military. Of course, things would be easier if your so called "teammates" weren't constantly walking into the death field of your rockets. Profligates. All of them. Anyway, Go get 'em, tiger!

You're that one guy who hangs back at parties, or sits on the edge of the last row of an auditorium so you can get out first. You always want to play outfield and hang on the edge of an arena in Super Smash Brothers so others can beat the pulp out of each other without you getting caught in the crossfire (the crime that probably landed you in the military). Don't worry, the Derpire is here to put your antisocial tendencies (and your so far wasted life) to good use. You get a sniper rifle for tearing people from sweet life at a distance, as well as semi-unique armor to help people target you for your self imposed isolation and murder of their parents sensei friends. You have a pistol for when you need to keep people away in a much more personal way, as well as a recon drone that can ferry cheetohs and new Xbox games to your hideout.

Day in, day out, you answer requests. Things like "Health plz" and "Repair plz" and "Bomb plz" and "Get on point plz" are your bread and butter.You get a kick out of assisting others in murder because doing it yourself ain't exactly your thing. To help people find and bother you, you are equipped with a spiffy black jumpsuit that only camouflages you in the vacuum of space (which is where all of you eventually go when the garbage gets dumped). Of course, the incessant requests and deaths of your colleagues can get on anyone's nerves. Enter the Laser Shotgun from Squidz Teck! The ultimate "leave me alone" weapon! If that wasn't enough, C4 is available for booby trapping any path parasites discover to your your precious Ammo/Med Packs. That'll teach people for asking you to do your job! You also have a welding torch for fixing vehicles, which, rest assured, you will never do. Instead, you will use it in ill-fated attempts to board other people's vehicles by cutting you-shaped holes in the chasis, after which you will be dragged underneath the vehicle in question and be trampled. Upon retrieving your mangled corpse post battle, everyone will comment upon how uncool you looked, thus cementing your memory in the minds of others fornever.

You have proven yourself a leader. An intelligent, wise, physically attractive leader. So attractive, in fact, that you get to show the enemy your face, who will surely surrender at the sight of your deep blue eyes (or shoot you between them). Being an Office Trooper is physically demanding, thankless, and not very glamorous. What's worse, instead of getting to kick back in the rec room like everyone else, you are saddled with a mountain of paperwork and Lord Vaper's fan mail. However, if you just manage to impress a Grand Moff Cushing or even Lord Vaper with some valiant screaming at your subordinates, you might just get promoted! That's what you live for, being promoted. The thought of one day possessing a higher pay grade and being able to look down on everyone who bullied you in grade school is what keeps you going through battle and multiple fragging attempts.

Being in the Derpiaral Officer Corps requires a British accent, although you can make do with an Australian or even a New Zealand one until you reach the upper ecehlons (which, thanks to the amount of enemy fire you are going to be exposed to, is highly unlikely). To carry out your mission of hiding behind your subordinates, you are equipped with a grenade launcher and some weird sonic pistol doohickey. You can also momentarily transmit your pent up angst and rage to your lessors as a status buff.

Everyone hushes when you enter the room. People don't dare look you in the eye, lest you return their gaze, killing them. Your voice is so low dolphins can't hear it. Your heavy and dramatic footsteps register on the richter scale. You are a Duper Trooper, the scariest soldiers the Derpire has to offer. So scary, in fact, you get a special color for your armor: the attention attaching and very intimidating Slate Gray. Because nothing says "your life is forfeit" like Slate Gray. Also, a jetpack! You get a freaking jetpack! And if that wasn't enough, a lightning gun! You can now rain electricity down like Zeus or Larry the Cable Guy at puny mortals who, for your information, don't have lightning guns or jetpacks. Your life is perfect, except for one thing: your military career has left little time for your hobby of watercolor. You're making a piece depicting the Seneca Falls Convention and it's really coming together. Your only weakness: rejection.

Wheeeew! You love flying! You love flying so much, you decided to serve on a ship that literally flies. A ship that flies that spits out other flying things. You're the workhorse of space, from dropping bombs on critical parts of an enemy ship (like their DVR,WiFi, or Life Support) to engaging your evil counterparts in Zero G dogfights. If you ever want to join the on deck, do-or-die action with the Maroons, you can always hop off onboard an enemy Capital Ship and perform a bit of commando sabotage. To this end, you have three time bombs and a pistol, perfect for all the James Bond moments you wanted to recreate. In Space. Unlike those meathead Maroons, you can repair any ship you are flying while you're flying it! Its easy, really. Simply control the the yoke with your left foot while you jam your welding torch into some sensitive and important looking space stuff. You went to college for four years.

Oooh rah! Semper Fi! Killing! You're a Maroon, and you don't care who knows! You're basically a soldier on a ship with a bunch of awesome perks. Your job is to kill your invading opponent, exhausted pilots with no armor carrying a dinky pistol, in a square fight. When you're not doing that, you lead daring raids to disable enemy ships from the inside, ripping out the mechanical innards in the same way you would gut a rabbit on your ranch back in your hometown of Gatlin, Nebraska. Getting there and back, however, is the issue.

You lack the tecnical knowhow and footwork to be able to repair a ship while you are flying it, thus leaving you vulnerable while intransit. Assuming you get to the enemy ship, you then need to deal with their maroons, as well as automated defenses. After that, you will need to be able to commandeer a new ship from the enemy hangar bay before your sabotage causes the ship to explode, blasting parts of you into differing corners of outer space. No one said your job wasn't suicidal was easy

Because you're so darn awesome, you get both a blaster and a rocket launcher. That bothers your Herpy and Derp cousins. For extra trolling you wear that same orange bib thing the Herpy Troopers wear. Best of all, you don't have to march anywhere! Don't plan on seeing the galaxy, though (except through portholes). You're never actually seen off the ship. But who needs land anyway?

Thank you very much for reading my guide. I hope that the information above will help you figure out where in the Derpire's military you will best fit. Remember, it is cogs like you that keep this lovely machine we call authoritarianism chugging!

In our next guide, we will discuss the grassroots classes found amongst the Space Southerners! State's rights, roger roger!