Tuesday, June 22, 2010

RPG.NET rant #20 The Prequel Trilogy II: The Dead Guy Gets The Pizzas

RPG.NET rant #20
The Prequel Trilogy II:
The Dead Guy Gets The Pizzas

originally posted to RPG.net on 12-29-2007, 11:07 AM


Her name was Mary, Mary Celeste, and she had alluring eyes, an intoxicating figure and a high pitched squeal of a laugh that could knock birds out of the sky.

But hey no one’s 100% perfect so I asked her out. She agreed, we exchanged numbers and planned to meet for dinner that Friday. I got a new shirt, a new tie and a few dabs of a cologne called ‘Midnight Surrender’. Oh yeah I was ready.

Too bad she never showed up. I waited for about half an hour then called her place with no answer, so I went back to the bar. By the fourth hour of doing this with still no word from her I began to realize that I had been stood up; ironically however I was at that point too damn drunk to stand.

Saturday morning I woke up with a bruised ego and a killer hangover but I promised myself that I would find out what went wrong, but first I had to figure out what part of town I was in, who had handcuffed me to the shopping cart and why my underpants were on outside my pants.

When I called Mary she apologized profusely and explained she had thought the date was for tonight. I told her that was fine by me and I made sure I was back at the restaurant an hour early this time. As you can imagine the staff was a little surprised to see me again and they made me promise not to engage in any further drunken displays of anger and interpretive dance. I promised.

So I stayed alcohol free as one hour of waiting became two and then three. Each time I called her house there was no answer. Suddenly my life had become a Genesis song. Discouraged and disheartened I turned to the hardest intoxicant I knew for solace- Dungeons & Dragons.

I found Psycho Dave’s house easily and got there just in time to rejoin the game.

Psycho Dave: “Welcome back. The other players have only slightly looted your characters belongings.”

Me: “Well now that I’m here I’m sure I can get them back.”

El Disgusto: “The only way your character gets his stuff back from my ninja is if he can survive the five challenges of death. Those challenges being his fingers curled into a fist.”

Me: “Fine then.”

El Disgusto: “Meaning of course that he could kill you with his bare hands.”

Me: “I got that.”

El Disgusto: “His. Bare. Hands.”

Me: “Why do you still smell like aftershave and perogies? Haven’t you changed your clothes since last week?”

El Disgusto: “I just got ‘Pool of Radiance’ for my Amiga so I’ve been busy.”

Me: “Too busy to change your clothes? You can pause those games you know.”

El Disgusto: “The question for you newbie is will you be able to pause the bleeding? Will you?”

Me: “Wow. That is either the worst Clint Eastwood or best Snake Plisken impersonation I’ve ever heard.”

Psycho Dave: “Please find a seat so we can get started. We are going to order some take out later.”

Me: “Mind if I sit here?”

Deviant Boy: “It’s a free country.”

Me: “Thanks.”

Deviant Boy: “What is that cologne you’re wearing?”

Me: “Uhm it’s called, ‘Midnight Surrender’.”

Deviant Boy: “Awesome, you know if I was a chick I would be totally wet for you now.”

Me: “Hey Weasly! Mind if I sit by you?”

Psycho Dave had the top off of his crystal shuttlecraft/fish tank; he sprinkled food in to the Sea Monkeys as he waited for us to get settled down. I noticed there was someone new at the table.

Me: “Oh, I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

Cheating Bastard: “Nice to meet you. I’m Cheating Bastard.”

Me: “They call me Ab3.”

El Disgusto: “But do they call you Ab3? Do they really? I doubt it.”

Me: “What is your problem?”

Cheating Bastard: “El Disgusto hasn’t been the same since they canceled that Lee van Cleef TV series.”

Me: “Uh… ok.”

El Disgusto: “Besides one more player means less treasure and glory for the rest of us.”

Weasly Crusher: “But there’s strength in numbers.”

The Amazing Boozehound: “You know what there’s strength in? That mesh they have in the back of the police cars that keeps you from touching the officer.”

Me: “So, where is Johnny Tangent?”

Weasly Crusher: “Well the Monkees came to town on their reunion tour so Johnny decided to follow them cross country.”

Me: “That is utterly insane”

Psycho Dave: “I thought so too.”

Me: “I mean Mike Nesmith isn’t even with the touring band.”

The game picked up pretty much where we had left off, deep in the Caves of Chaos, deep in Kobold territory.

Weasly Crusher: “This new character of mine is much better then the old one. I’m glad you found him chained to a wall in the swastika shaped treasure room.”

Me: “Yeah and we found new weapons and armor better then the old ones.”

Cheating Bastard: “Who wants a plus one sword? My character already has one.”

El Disgusto: “If it’s not a katana it’s not really a plus anything.”

Me: “How did your character start with a plus one sword and MY GOD look at those stats!”

Cheating Bastard: “Thank you.”

Me: “Eighteen everything?”

Cheating Bastard: “The dice were kind.”

Me: “I’m speechless.”

Psycho Dave: “Your characters make your way out of the treasure room back into the dungeon. Can I have your marching orders please?”

El Disgusto: “The newbies go up front. I do my best work in the shadows.”

Me: “I think that’s how you photograph best too.”

Deviant Boy: “I keep both hands on my wand of wonder.”

The Amazing Boozehound: “My wizard ties a rope to his familiar and begins to swing it around like a flail.”

Weasly Crusher: “That poor kitty.”

Psycho Dave: “A group of kobolds attacks you. Everyone roll…”

The combat was brief but bloody, my dwarf made the best of his combat modifiers, until he was standing atop a mound of dead kobolds his armor and weapons gleaming with the blood of his enemies. Cheating bastard waded into the mass of the kobold horde, his claymore sweeping aside six at a time, those that weren’t cleaved in half were sent crashing into the nearby cave walls. Every once in a while El Disgusto’s ninja would leap out of the shadows, miss what he was aiming at and then retreat sneering back into the darkness. Even Weasly Crusher scored several kills before his sword broke; the blade tumbled free of its hilt, tumbling end over end until it severed the rope tied to the tail of the Amazing Boozehound’s cat. Then it was the cat’s turn to go flying through the air and it struck Deviant Boy’s female human fighter in the back. This in turn caused ‘Deb Sonia’ to fumble with the wand of wonder and cast a large fireball into the wall that then rebounded back on all of us.

Weasly Crusher: “Wow that was a lot of damage. I have like one hit point left.”

Me: “All our treasure melted, all our equipment burned…”

El Disgusto: “How could Von Badass be hurt? He was in the shadows, you can’t touch a ninja in the shadows.”

Psycho Dave: “Fireball spells in enclosed spaces are the great equalizer.”

The Amazing Boozehound: “All my robes and spell books are gone. Does my character still have his hip flask of holding?”

Psycho Dave: “Sorry.”

The Amazing Boozehound: “There is no God.”

Cheating Bastard: “Well at least I and all my equipment made their saving throws,”

Me: “I want to use your dice for a day.”

Cheating Bastard: “Not a chance. I’ve got them just how I like them.”

Deviant Boy: “I still can’t believe that ‘Deb Sonia’ would have allowed a wand go off prematurely in her hand like that.”

Me: “Do you have sex on the brain or something?”

Deviant Boy: “Well let me answer that by saying…”

The Amazing Boozehound: “Oh no, you got him started, someone fix me a drink!”

Deviant Boy: “…it is very simple, I believe if you don’t have sex on the brain there is something wrong with you. Sex is the inspiration and end result of all of humanities efforts. Why do men seek fame and fortune? To get laid. Why do professional athletes risk their long term health for the sake of a game? To get laid? Why is there any kind of art in the world at all? So doofy guys can get laid. Desire for sex, fear of sex and even failure to get sex is at the heart of everything.”

Me: “That is a little goofy if you ask me.”

El Disgusto: “If that’s true then why are any of us here playing role playing games? It’s not going to get any of us laid.”

Deviant Boy: “Ah but the reason any of us is here is because we can’t get laid and have nothing better to do.”

El Disgusto: “Up yours. I had a girlfriend.”

Me: “Oh come on. You?”

El Disgusto: “Yeah we met in the SCA but I had to let her go. A stallions’ gotta roam free.”

Me: “Ow my brain! My beautiful brain!”

Deviant Boy: “I have a theory I am researching, I call it the Unified Porn Theory. I believe that if we can create a single erotic image that appeals to everyone it will trigger world peace.”

Psycho Dave: “I’ve always said that your mind dwells in a realm somewhere between the realms of Larry Flynt and Isaac Asimov.”

Me: “Anyone else have any crazy ideas they’d like to share before we get back to the game?”

Deviant Boy: “Laugh now but you won’t be laughing in ten years when America is involved in a series of wars across the globe. You’ll say to yourself ‘Damn, that guy with the huge honking Johnson was right!’”

Me: “No I won’t because you’re crazy.”

Deviant Boy: “All you have to do is study erotic imagery and it becomes so obvious. Take a look at the porno films being made in Europe and Japan now. In the majority of them the money shot is created by the woman bringing the man to climax one way or another…

Me: “Why are we having this discussion?”

Deviant Boy: “Now hear me out Ab3… The modern American porno film is a different animal. Most of the time it is the man who finishes himself off for the money shot. Now there is so much more going on at the heart of these images than women being sprayed with love gravy. Why is the American porn film so different? Because these are the subconscious signs of a nation afraid of losing its sovereignty, a nation so unwilling to surrender control of itself that if can’t even bear to see a man surrender control of his veiny-love banger to the actress performing with him in a triple X rated movie. That my friends is a sign of a nation on the brink.”

Me: “Oh. My. God.”

Weasly Crusher: “You’re lucky. When he told us about his theory he had slides.”

Some mild shouting from Psycho Dave got us back on track, our gravely wounded characters gingerly made their way back out of the dungeon and made camp for the night.

Deviant Boy: “I hope we don’t get any encounters tonight. If we do were finished.”

Me: “Yeah it’s too bad we didn’t leave our cleric to die in a pit trap last session.”

El Disgusto: “If his god had wanted him to live he would have gotten him out of there.”

Psycho Dave: “Clerics are the red shirts of the D&D system. Always have been.”

Me: “I don’t think that’s fair.”

Psycho Dave: “Then why aren’t you playing one?”

Me: “Well… I don’t know…”

Deviant Boy: “I’m hungry. I thought we were getting pizza.”

El Disgusto: “Sounds good to me.”

The Amazing Boozehound: “And wings!”

El Disgusto: “Even better.”

Psycho Dave: “Well it’s more expensive if we have it delivered, one of you should go get the food.”

The Amazing Boozehound: “Well I can’t drive, I’m drunk.”

Psycho Dave: “The DM shouldn’t have to drive in these situations.”

Cheating Bastard: “Well I drove in with El Disgusto.”

El Disgusto: “Bad enough I’m chipping in for pizza, now way am I wasting gas too.”

Weasly Crusher: “Well I suppose I could go.”

Me: “Nah I’m the new guy. I’ll go.”

Weasly Crusher: “No. You barely know the neighborhood I’ll go.”

Me: “No really I think –”

El Disgusto: “Weasly’s character has like one hit point right? I kill him.”

Psycho Dave: “OK roll to hit.”

Me: “Wait? What?”

Weasly Crusher: “But he was almost second level…”

Psycho Dave: “Weasly your character is dead, since there are no clerics nearby you may add your character sheet to the binder of shame.”

Me: “What the Hell just happened here?”

El Disgusto: “It’s called ‘Dead guy gets the pizza’, he was going to slow us down and die anyway so I just streamlined things. Besides this way waiting for him won’t slow down play.”

Cheating Bastard: “Tough break Weasly.”

The Amazing Boozehound: “Later dude. I feel like I hardly knew the character you were playing this session.”

Deviant Boy: “Tough break… again.”

Wesley Crusher: “Oh well. Let’s everyone chip in and I’ll head off.”

El Disgusto: “Didn’t I say ‘Dead guy GETS the pizza’? I know for a fact you’ve got plenty of cash.”

Wesley Crusher: “But that’s the money I need to uses to buy my insulin tomorrow.”

Me: “You know I have a few bucks right here…”

El Disgusto: “For God’s sake am I the only person here that knows how to be a man? Weasly go get the food. Trust me if you are going to let a little thing like diabetes effect your health then you were never meant to live anyway.”

Weasly Crusher: “Well… ok.”

Me: “What exactly is a Binder of Shame? And why is it so large?”

Psycho Dave: “Every D&D game has many binders but each D&D game must have a Binder of Shame and a Binder of Glory. The player characters that die heroic deaths are saved forever in the page protectors of the Binder of Glory. The characters that suffer, humiliating, soul-crushing deaths go into the Binder of Shame. It’s a sign of quality GMing to have a Binder of Shame three times the size of your Binder of Glory.”

Once Weasly had left on his errand the game was on its way again. Our characters made it through the night with only one casualty- that being Weasly’s thief. When it was my watch I removed the body of Nine Fingers Rodney from the tree he had been tied to so El Disgusto’s ninja could have shuriken practice and buried him out in the woods.

When the morning came we discovered we had a visitor.

Psycho Dave: “And the cleric of the Church of G. Gordon Liddy asks to speak with the party. He has questions.”

Cheating Bastard: “Sure we’ll tell him whatever he wants to know, after the rest of my team gets some cure light wounds.”

El Disgusto: “Your team? I though we were going to be Force Whoopass from Greyhawk.”

Me: “Wouldn’t something like that first entail your character telling us his name.”

El Disgusto: “You losers don’t deserve to know his name!”

Psycho Dave: “The cleric heals your party and then asks you if about the cleric you hired a few days ago. Apparently the members of the church are very worried he isn’t going to make it back alive.”

The Amazing Boozehound: “Heh-heh… what cleric?”

Me: “Did we even get that cleric’s name before we left him to die?”

Deviant Boy: “It was Derek.”

Me: “Derek the cleric?”

Cheating Bastard: “I tell this guy… what was his name again?”

Psycho Dave: “His name is Eric.”

Me: “Eric the cleric?”

El Disgusto: “Why even give NPC’s names?”

Cheating Bastard: “I tell Eric that we sent Derek ahead to scout for giant turtle eggs and that he should come along with us if he wants to meet him.”

The Amazing Boozehound: “Cool we’ve got a new cleric!”

And so we marched on, making our way back to Castellan Keep with what remained of our treasure and our dignity. Imagine our surprise when we found a small village of hobgoblins blocking our path.

Me: “I’m just thinking we would have noticed something like this the first time through.”

Cheating Bastard: “I don’t even think I could fight an entire village of hobgoblins and live.”

El Disgusto: “Looks like I’ll have the cripple the party so I can make my escape. I’ll start with the cleric!”

El Disgusto’s ninja was in mid-crippling when one of the hobgoblins noticed us an approached. I don’t think Erol Otis ever imagined hobgoblins like this.

Psycho Dave: “Now the hobgoblins approached you, speaking in a guttural version of the Common tongue. You can see already that they aren’t wearing armor but are wearing multi-colored fabrics and wide shapeless knit caps on their heads. The lead hobgoblin says, ‘Hey mon, whatchoo be doin’ wandering around outside of our village mon?’”

Me: “Rastafarian hobgoblins? You’ve got to be kidding.”

Psycho Dave: “The hobgoblin leader continues, ‘We don’t want to be fightin’ you nohow mon. We just live here bein’ mellow mon’ and guarding the treasure. Hey! Why you be crippling that cleric mon?’”

El Disgusto: “I give Eric the cleric his leg back and ask the hobgoblin to tell me more about this treasure.”

Psycho Dave: “The lead hobgoblin explains, ‘It be a Deck of Many Things. Someone traded it to us for some ganja and now we charge people one gold piece to draw a card. It beats workin’ mon.”

Me: “All right these are mean spirited and hateful stereotypes.”

El Disgusto: “What have you got hobgoblins in your family Ab3?”

Me: “No and that’s not the point the point is that stereotypes are the language of hate.”

The Amazing Boozehound: “And Miller is the champagne of beers!”

Cheating Bastard: “I give the hobgoblin chief a gold piece and ask him if I can draw from the deck of many things.”

Deviant Boy: “Oh me too.”

The Amazing Boozehound: “My gold piece is kind of melty.”

El Disgusto: “Me too. Are you going along too Ab3?”

Me: “I’m still kind of upset over these hobgoblins and besides a deck of many things is a party killer.”

El Disgusto: “I knew you’d wussy out.”

Me: “I’m not… oh all right I’m in.”

Psycho Dave: “The hobgoblin chief says, ‘Well come on then mon.’ And he leads you to a hut in the middle of the encampment.”

Me: “What about Eric the cleric?”

Psycho Dave: “Oh he’s bled out by now.”

El Disgusto: “Some cleric he turned out to be.”

The Amazing Boozehound: “Hey someone’s coming up the driveway.”

Me: “Oh good that must be-”

Psycho Dave: “Lights out! Everyone quiet!”

And with that the lights went out in the room and everyone crouched on the floor.

Me: “What the hell is this?”

Psycho Dave: “Whispers. Only whispers until we hear the knock.”

Me: “It’s Weasly with the pizza isn’t it?”

Psycho Dave: “We can’t be too sure. This isn’t… this isn’t exactly my house.”

Me: “Wha- what?”

Psycho Dave: “I moved out of parents’ house but the whole rent thing didn’t work out for me. Luckily my grandfather had a debilitating stroke and his house has been empty for months while my family argues what to do with it.”

Me: “They don’t know you’re here?”

Psycho Dave: “Well that would kind of scupper the whole rent-free thing wouldn’t it?”

Cheating Bastard: “It’s Weasly.”

Psycho Dave: “Ok get the food and send him home.”

Me: “Send him home?”

El Disgusto: “His character is dead what else is he going to do? Hang around and stare moonily into your bald spot?”

Me: “I’m not…”

They got the pizza and sent Weasly Crusher home. I once again asked myself what the hell I was doing here. Bad as the dating scene might be at least there I had a chance to get a kiss once in a while. The again with Deviant Boy you never really could be sure about that either. Once we were done eating each member of the party drew a card from the deck of many things.

The Amazing Boozehound: “Minus one on all saving throws. That stinks.”

Cheating Bastard: “Awesome, a castle of my own and another positive modifier for my diplomacy skill.”

Deviant Boy: “Imprisoned? Do I at least get a cell mate?”

El Disgusto: “A 4th level fighter for a follower? That sucks. I’m a ninja- death in black pajamas. Ninja’s don’t have followers. How many XP do I get if I kill him?”

Me: “All my magic weapons disappear? Well I didn’t have any.”

Psycho Dave: “Well I think this is as good a place as any to leave off until next week. Can everyone be here?”

Cheating Bastard: “I’ll get here early so I can mock Weasly as he rolls up his new character. We can all hang out at my new castle.”

El Disgusto: “I’ll be here. Don’t you worry about that.”

Deviant Boy: “As long as we keep getting together on Saturdays I’m good. Just remember Friday nights are for just me, Mr. Pibbs and Cinemax after dark.”

The Amazing Boozehound: “I’m intoxicated at the very thought.”

Psycho Dave: “And what about you Ab3?”

Me: “I… I’m not sure. I think we’ll have to play it by ear.”

I was determined to make sure I had something better to do, even if it was trolling the singles bars with my non-gaming friend Kid Snotrocket. This wasn’t fun, this wasn’t good times; all I was doing was adding another page to my own personal Binder of Shame.


  1. Damn, that guy with the huge honking Johnson was right!
    So, Mr Deviant Boy, about that Unified Porn Theory...

  2. I bet Psycho Dave voted trump

    1. Psycho Dave is Donald Trump

    2. And you, on the other hand, voted for the guy who literally said "poor kids can be as smart as white kids" and that he didn't want his white children growing up "in a jungle".

      So, chill out on the politics, OKKK?