#3 With A Pinch Of Assault
The plan was simple enough, everyone meet at Blobert’s place for a game of D&D and make damn well sure El Disgusto didn’t know about it. A game without EL Disgusto was a hard thing to arrange, he just seemed to have a sense for any rpg’s being played in the Albany area. There was a time right after high school where he was involved in an rpg every night, and more frequently than not ruining them. He and his ninjas broke the faith of the Schenectady Christian Gaming Club yet also sent a group of guys that played Runequest in an old cemetery at night retreating to their church of choice. El Disgusto single handedly did so much damage to our the gaming community that some people suspected he was secretly a stamp collector trying to destroy our hobby from within.
That some people was me.
I arrived at Blobert Smith’s parent’s house about an hour after everyone else. I’d lost track of time while writing, whiney, self serving screeds about how much more mature I was than the loser friends I spent all my waking hours with. (That’s right anonymous Internet commenter I know I was a jackass back then too!)
Blobert had promised an off the wall and surprising mix of players for his game but then again everything the guy did was consciously off the wall and surprising. What more can you say about a guy that had once been thrown out of a concert for throwing poop at GG Allin.
Trust me it’s gross.
And who did I find waiting for me in Blobert’s big basement of RPGs and transgressive blacklight posters?
Blobert Smith: “Ah Ab3 I welcome you to my realm within a realm my abode where imagination and unpainted lead miniatures roam free!”
Me: “I’ll watch my step then.”
Collateral Darren: “Hey dude. No hard feelings right?”
Me: “About what?”
Collateral Darren: “About the weed I hid in your car.”
Me: “You did what?”
Collateral Darren: “Yeah, used the key you used hidden under the back bumper to get in.”
Me: “Again, you did what?”
Collateral Darren: “It’s gone now, I figured you found it and threw it away.”
Me: “No. I never knew anything about it. But I guess this explains why the guy at the car wash said he didn’t need a tip.”
Collateral Darren: “You fool! Car wash places work in collusion with the companies that manufacture road salt to bilk the American public.”
Me: “And it’s darn nice to see you again Old Yellowbelly. I still think that were a little mean with the way they through you out of the Battleship tournament.”
Old Yellowbelly: “Yeah, if we couldn’t leave our ships hanging partially off the gameboard then the official rules should have said so!”
Me: “No, I mean that was cheating but they way they beat you up was really over the top.”
Old Yellowbelly: “I had pegs everywhere.”
Cheating Bastard: “I thought it showed original thinking, you should have received a commendation but Milton Bradley doesn’t believe in the ‘no hit’ scenario.”
Me: “Hey Cheating Bastard, how goes your post office job?”
Cheating Bastard: “Great. I haven’t shown up for work once but they can’t fire me because I got post dramatic stress disorder when I got a Crackle bar instead of a Milky Way from the candy machine.”
Me: “My tax dollars at work.”
Collateral Darren: “That’s why I never pay them.”
Me: “And is that Biff Bam I see over there? Blobert are you sure this is a good idea?”
Biff Bam: “I’m a changed man Ab3. I acted out because of my speech impediment. Now I have a a retainer.”
Blobert Smith: “Besides, he comes highly recommended.”
Me: “By Cheating Bastard.”
Blobert Smith: “Indeed.”
Biff Bam: “I’m just here to have some dun.”
Me: “Some what?”
Biff Bam: “Some dun, of the ‘Fungeons and Fragons' variety.”
Me: “Some what?”
Biff Bam: “‘Fungeons and Fragons. Fo you have a hearing problem? Are you feaf?”
Me: “Oh duck me.”
Blobert Smith: “And this gentleman here is my friend from the gym Stocky Balboa.”
Stocky Balboa: “Yeah.”
Stocky was broad shouldered with bad acne and a worse mullet. He was stacking dice one atop another with a look of intense disinterest.
Old Yellowbelly: “You go to the gym Blobert?”
Blobert Smith: “I have a five year membership at Fitness Galaxy. They make the most amazing smoothies don’t they Stocky?”
Stocky Balboa: “They’re like unbelievable.”
Blobert Smith: “I can drink five or six in a single visit.”
Me: “Someday Blobert you’re going to miss those lower limbs of yours.”
Stocky Balboa: “Yeah.”
Blobert Smith: “Limbs or no limbs let us begin our game shall we? Let our minds travel from this mundane orb to a realm of myth and magic. Imagine a world where dwarves, orcs and humans all kneel under the yoke of the Mind Flayers' cosmic oppression. imagine a world where gnomes have fled to the depths of the Earth for safety and all of elvish kind have retreated to a trailer park in the lower left quadrant of the astral plane. This is our shared reality. This is our campaign world! Oh for a muse of Gygax!”
Ab3: “That gave me chills.”
Old Yellowbelly: “I’m scared too.”
Blobert Smith: “Each of your characters have been drawn to the same tavern in the city of Gorzom. There at Tavern of the Unique Metaphor, you await the arrival of the rebel commander Robichet the Unblinking.”
Biff Bam: “So our characters are here to join a rebellion against the mind flayers?”
Blobert Smith: “The mind flayers rule most of the world and there are many rebellions going on. The particular band of revolutionaries you have come here to join are united in the cause of legalizing recreational xvart poetry slams.”
Cheating Bastard: “That’s a thing here?”
Blobert Smith: “Each of you in some way has been impacted by the Council of the Thousand Illithid’s ban on recreational xvart poetry slams.”
Colleteral Darren: “I you say so. I gotta admit I’m not really feeling that as a storyline.”
Blobert Smith: “What? Do you mean to say that my campaign world is lacking in realism?”
Me: “Oh no not at all. Let’s just keep going and see what happens.”
Old Yellowbelly: “As long as there aren’t any undead.”
Stocky Balboa: “Yeah.”
Blobert Smith: “Very well then. Each of your characters, though they may be fighters, magic users or clerics they are united in their bitterness because each of them secretly longed to pursue the art of RXPS or recreational xvart poetry slams.”
Me: “So what you’re saying is that all our characters secretly wanted to be bards.”
Blobert Smith: “A particular kind of bard that receives bonuses for throwing xvarts. By the way Stocky, are you familiar with the xvart race?”
Stocky Balboa: “Nah.”
Blobert Smith: “They’re gnomes of an especially blue and angry variety. Consider if you will the smurfs but this is a smurf community consumed by rage and unpleasant hygiene. Do you understand my metaphor?”
Stocky Balboa: “Yeah.”
Me: “Does this mean that we’re in some part of the Forgotten Realms?”
Suddenly Biff Bam rose up in his seat, his hands hooked into claws. He shouted-
Biff Bam: “PinchUrPeePee!”
-and drove both his hands into Cheating Bastard’s crotch. It was all over in a matter of seconds, then Biff Bam sat back in his chair leaving Cheating Bastard lying on the floor, his body curled into the fetal position.
Cheating Bastard: “Gasp! Got me that time.”
Biff Bam: “You gotta pay attention.”
Me: “Are you all right Bastard?”
Cheating Bastard: “Oh yeah. Help me up would you Yellowbelly?”
Old Yellowbelly: “Are you crying?”
Biff Bam: “He just got knocked the wind out of his balls.”
Me: “I’m not sure that a sentence like that should ever be spoken in or out of character.”
Cheating Bastard: “It’s just a game we play. It helps with spacial awareness.”
Collateral Darren: “Because if you aren’t paying attention to your personal space you get pinched on your pee pee?”
Biff Bam: “You got it on the dirst guess!”
Stocky Balboa: “Unbelievable.”
Biff Bam had never been the kind of guy to the concept of personal space but I decided right off the bat there was no way I was going to play the Inspector Clouseau to his Cato so I moved my spot to the other side of the table and crossed my legs.
Blobert Smith: “Your characters are all sitting at the table sharing a large ale via many small straws. Commander Robichet the Unblinking arrives and makes his introductions.”
Me: “My character introduces himself as Fredo the dwarf, he’s smart.”
Blobert Smith: “Just a small town dwarf livin' in a lonely world. You took the midnight stage goin’ anywhere.”
Me: “Talk about an unexpected Journey.”
Once the introductions were over Commander Robichet the Unblinking charged us with our first mission head into the sewers and rescue the prisoners being held there.
Blobert Smith: “Those prisoners are kept in the dark with no stimulation save the sound of their own despairing sobs. Their brains are like veal to the hungry mind flayers.”
Old Yellowbelly: “I guess we’ll get started, I’ll bring up the rear like any good berserker would.”
Biff Bam: “Let’s go! Famn the torpedos!”
Collateral Darren: “I’m in. You just don’t get this kind of quality worldbuilding in jail.”
Me: “I’ll take the lead if no one else will.”
Cheating Bastard: “My thief will be right behind you. Hope you counted your caltrops.”
Only one of his was silent. Our newest player was staring intently at a hangnail on his thumb, considering it.
Blobert Smith: “Will you be joining the rest of the party on this possibly doomed rescue mission?”
Stocky Balboa: “Yeah.”
Suddenly Cheating Bastard was up and out of his chair, his hands flying towards Collateral Darren’s unsuspecting groin.
Cheating Bastard: “PinchUrPeePee!”
Collateral Darren: “AAAAAAGH! That hurts!”
Me: “What the Hell is wrong with you CB?”
Cheating Bastard: “I had to pass it on.”
Me: “No you didn’t.”
Biff Bam: “If he foesn’t pass it on then that means he likes guys pinching his pee pee.”
Me: “No it doesn’t. It means he is an adult.”
Stocky: “Unbelievable.”
Our characters bravely battled their way through the sewers fighting past heavily armed xvarts and gouger-type beholders with bad attitudes and a penchant for singing the Jet’s song from ‘West Side Story’.
Cheating Bastard: “Is that the last of them?”
Me: “Do you mean the healing potions or the gougers?”
Cheating Bastard: “The gougers. My character is getting his ass kicked, this whole having to roll my dice where other people can see them rule is jinxing me.”
Biff Bam: “This is quite the adventure so dar isn’t it Stocky?”
Stocky Balboa: “Yeah.”
Me: “You’re awfully quite Stocky, you sure you don’t want to jump in with some role playing style banter?”
Stocky Balboa: “Nah.”
Collateral Darren: “Strong and silent is the way to go sometimes. It sure was when I was in lock up, that and refusing to leave my cell via passive resistance.”
Old Yellowbelly: “Is that the last of them? Did we win?”
Blobert Smith: “You have crushed our opposition as utterly as Aquaman’s dreams were crushed when he tried to move the Justice League to Detroit.”
Me: “Now that’s crushed.”
Stocky Balboa: “Yeah.”
Cheating Bastard: “Do these things have any treasure.”
Blobert Smith: “Luckily for you this is a tribe of xvarts that have accepted the glory and connivance of the fanny pack into their lives.”
Collateral Darren: “Well… in that case I’m gonna PinchUrPeePee!”
Old Yellowbelly: “Noooooooooooo!”
Me: “Darren for God’s sake!”
Collateral Darren: “Had to be done. Time inside changes a man.”
Me: “You were in the infirmary for 90% of your sentence.”
Collateral Darren: “I was shived.”
Me: “Because you kept trying to start sing alongs.”
Collateral Darren: “It was the first step in my plan to start a prison revolt.”
Old Yellowbelly: “I taste pennies.”
Somehow the game got back underway again but the atmosphere had changed; it was down to me and Stocky Balboa, both of our peepees were literally up for grabs.
Or maybe Blobert was next, or were Dungeon Masters exempt from this kind of what I could only describe as ‘manhandling’?
I needed to learn more.
Me: “Biff, where did this little game come from?”
Biff Bam: “I picked it up at Troycon gaming convention. At an aftergame in the parking lot.”
Old Yellowbelly: “There was a gaming convention in Troy?”
Collateral Darren: “It was a critical failure.”
Me: “Can we all just agree to drop this nonsense?”
Stocky Balboa: “Yeah.”
Me: “I mean, how about we all try to pretend to be elves and dwarves in the most dignified way possible?”
Biff Bam: “I’ll never understand why a man so broad shouldered can be so deminine.”
Me: “You can’t damage my feelings of self worth Biff, that’s what relatives and magazine editors are for.”
Old Yellowbelly: “pinchurpeepee?”
Old Yellowbelly didn’t have strength or speed on his side so he used guile and misdirection. It didn’t look like it had been much of a pinch at all but the way Stocky Balboa’s face clouded over was proof enough that some kind of contact had been made.
Stocky Balboa: “Unbelievable.”
Then he began beating the crap out of Old Yellowbelly. In truth he only hit him twice but Old Yellowbelly did lose control of his bowels so the metaphor stands true.
Old Yellowbelly left after that, not quite running, not quite shuffling from the basement. Blobert called out after him but it was too late. The game was over and we all knew it.
Stocky Balboa got to his feet.
Blobert Smith: “I am sorry my friend that this game was even less than my staying power on the treadmill. I hope we can see you again though. I still have so many other game ideas.”
Stocky Balboa: “Nah.”
Blobert Smith: “Are you sure? Would it help if I willingly gave up my peepee to be pinched?”
Stocky Balboa: “Each mind flayer -needs- one brain a month, right? That's twelve adults a year. In a city of 100 mind flayers, that means a disposable population of 1,200 adults. There is no way that a city of this size would be able to generate those numbers before eating into the citizens that support the cities infrastructure.”
Blobert Smith: “Wha-wha-what?”
Stocky Balboa: “It’s unbelievable. And one more thing- PINCHURPEEPEE!”
His hands were like lightning, my reaction time was like molassases, everything went black.
When I came back to consciousness it was to the sound of a familiar voice.
El Disgusto: “Oh man. Yellowbelly and Ab3 got their asses kicked and I missed it?”
Me: “What are you doing here?”
Collateral Darren: “He went to each of our houses until he figured out where the game was.”
Biff Bam: “He’s like some kind of fetective.”
Cheating Bastard: “Jesus Ab3, don’t you ever clean out your wallet?”
Me: “How did he know we were having a game?”
El Disgusto: “I just knew dipshit.”
Me: “So he just barged in here?”
El Disgusto: “You jerkwads aren’t going to get away with having a game without me. Any other stupid questions Ab3?”
Me: “Just one.”
El Disgusto: “Yeah? Want me to read one of your crappy stories?”
Me: “No. I just wanna know… how’s your peepee?”
