I suppose that, too, could be answered by Square Hate You, but in this case, its not the developers or the GMs, it's you people.
If you don't think a Mule's lot is hard enough, need I remind you that I still don't have pants? Don't go out of your way to make things harder for me. It's unnecessary, and it makes me cranky.
Of course, I'm a black mage, so crankiness is part of the package.
My typical day involves being woken up by the Moogle. Once I tried to play Viva Piñata Party Time with him and my ash staff, but he just sprayed me with Quadav musk and warped me to the middle of Beadeaux. Told me next time he'd set my home point there. I never wished I had pants more than that day.
Anyway, let's not talk about that.
The Moogle wakes me up and hands me some random carcass that the master keeps in my mog safe. I get the privilege of running to the Auction House to send items 8 at a time because someone wants to level bonecrafting today. I'm told to hurry because Windsday won't last forever. Heard of planning ahead?
On special occasions, I get burdened with pieces of dead things and ordered to sit out in the hot sun. Do you have any idea how much surface area there is to sunburn on a Tarutaru face? At least let me go under an NPC tent for some shade.
Oh wait, no one talks to the NPCs so they don't know where the stores are. That's why you can sell a Bronze Harness at 5000 gil at the Auction House because no one knows who Ryan is. I have to sit in a high traffic area, which means somewhere between the Residential Area and the Auction House.
If you adventurers weren't as lazy as the Windurst Tarutaru and as stupid as the Bastok Galka, I could sit in the shade.
Could I at least get to learn Water? Cooling off or suicide, both seem like viable options.
So, when you see me out there, forced to sit in the sun until all the animal remains are sold, don't be cruel. If you feel compelled to check me, buy something. Pretend you want a dhalmel's femur or a giant cochroach exoskeleten.
Standing next to me talking about how much you man-scammed someone with your Manthra slave doesn't impress me. No matter how rich you are, I still have to sit there until the last gamma-ray mutated junebug mandible is sold.
It's not for the gil, I don't get to keep that. I just want to go back in my Mog House.
Then the party invites come.
My lack of response isn't because I don't want to party. My lack of response is because I'm unconscious with heat stroke.
Also, I don't want to party with you.
Seriously, if you want to party with a low level Black Mage who only knows Stone and doesn't even have any pants on, then I don't want to party with you. Ever.
What other joys do I get in my servitude? Always fun are the incoming deliveries from my master so she can clear up space in her bag. Oh look, here's one now. Oh sweet merciful Altana, what is that smell?
She sent me rotten meat.
Why would anyone want to keep that? It's rotten. Throw it away!
But wait, there's more.
An undead skin.
How does skin become undead? I'm not opposed to working with dark forces to tear apart the fabric of the universe, but sometimes things just need to learn to stay dead.
After I stopped dry heaving from the smell of the rotten meat, I could hear it moaning.
Reeree>> «Excuse me»?
Reeree>> Low... «what?»
Reeree>> Low rider?
Reeree>> Low prices?
Reeree>> Low hit points? I can't cast Cure.
Reeree>> Low MP? I don't have Refresh.
Reeree>> Low ceiling?
Reeree>> Listen, I'm sorry, but I don't speak crazy bitch. «Do you speak any English?» Try that.
UndeadSkin>> Looooooooooooow shun.
Reeree>> «You can have this» «Fire»
I know why she didn't keep it in her own inventory. I don't see why I had to be inflicted with that. You can drop things once in a while. I don't want them any more than you do.
If it could be sold, you would have sold it yourself.
Don't make my life harder than it needs to be. Kicking a mule doesn't make you strong. No one is impressed.
When I am free, just wait till you see what I make you hold for me.