Adventurer 100980, a young boy of some amount of years had stepped out of the safety of his house/manor/pig sty(choose one) and had come face to face with his or her first enemy. Sadly for our intrepid adventurer, this enemy was vastly superior in strength which caused him to die.
“Whoa, hey now... I'm not dead... yet. Haven't even done anything.”
A deep sigh could be heard from the sky. Ok, fine. Our intrepid wonderchild wasn't dead yet, but was about to die so the narration could, for once, stop at a reasonable union approved hour as was discussed in last month's meeting.
“Look, I'm not going to die just because you want to go home, alright? Now let me deal with this enemy on my own.”
The enemy, a tiger with a top hat, felt obliged to give his opinion and lengthen what could be a very simple process.
“Chaps, I feel a little bit of strain on this euhm... 'working' situation. I do feel that we owe the young man a chance, no?”
“Exactly! I could still win.”
“Euhm... no. You're level 1 and... feeble. I am level 10 and a tiger with a top hat and an exquisite wooden pipe in my mouth. I mean, the end result is pretty evident.”
The young adventurer wept silently while the tiger took another pull on his pipe. But in the end he begrudgingly accepted his faith. The end.
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…
“Yeah, I'm not going to just accept death like that. I don't care what you want.”
The narrator, mentally exhausted, erased 'The end' from the official form and the hero of this tedious adventure was granted another short life extension to the detriment of everybody around. The world then waited with baited breath how this walking bag of defenceless meat was going to handle a 500 pound tiger.
“I euh... I have a stick. My father told me it's a miracle stick. He used it to beat me and my sisters every day which granted it magical powers.”
The tiger shook his head and averted his eyes. “No young man, that's just child abuse. Nothing magical about it. It's sad but it does make your flesh more tender.”
The intrepid hero was faced with many years of abuse which would require extensive therapy but there simply wasn't time. The tiger pounced aggressively and tore him to shreds.
“Old boy, I feel you have a bit of an anger problem. “ Continued the tiger, pulling deeply on his pipe. “Might want to euhm... get that looked at. Could be a problem for your old rickety tikker if you catch my drift.”
A hard slam on a desk was heard from up above followed by a moment of silence. Then a lighter lit a cigarette and a glass was filled with Scotch. The tiger nodded his approval and enjoyed another puff of the brown herb.
“Good show, old boy. That's how you handle stress in style. Now, to get back to the topic at hand. Young man, besides your unfortunate background, is there any worth or combat experience you have that's relevant to the situation at hand? Any at all?”
The boy gave this some consideration and shook his head.
“Kinda good with my fists but that's about it. I do have a strong incentive to fight. As I don't want to die.”
“Oh, of course, of course. That's a given. But I feel that you...” The tiger coughed loudly and dropped his top hat. There was blood on his lips. “Oh deary me... must've ruptured something again...” He dropped to the ground and stopped moving. The boy looked on with a quizzical look.
“Soooo... what happened?”
The case-file of the tiger was brought out and his medical records were checked. Apparently the tiger had advanced lung cancer and has now... well... perished from that.
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“Wait, it works that quickly?”
The file indicated that this tiger should have been in the hospital quite a few months ago. But instinct is as instinct does.
“So do I still get the experience for this?”
Another deep sigh from heaven was accompanied by a loud ding and a blue screen that popped over the young man's head.
YOU HAVE LEVELLED UP! YOU ARE NOW LEVEL 2! CONGRATULATIONS.
GAINED ACHIEVEMENT 'Oh you lucky so and so.'
“Awesome, what does the achievement do?”
Sounds of papers falling to the ground as someone eagerly searched through them came from the heavens. This achievement is quite rare. It diverts all your skillpoints to luck and doubles it.
“Wait, what about strength and intelligence?”
A finger tapped on the word 'all'. The young adventurer's stats besides luck were all... zero.
“So my character is screwed?”
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…
…
It appears so.
“Crap... Wait, so how much is my luck stat?”
Any adventurer can check his or her character info by singing the I'm a little teapot song.
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Maybe a few tunes?
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…
It appears the hero's intellect might be misrepresented by the number zero after all. So he can find his actual statistics by saying 'Inspect:Self'
“Inspect, Self.”
Instructions unclear, you lack a colon.
“Pretty sure I don't. Went to the bathroom this morning.”
The sounds of another glass of whisky being poured came from above. Quite a big one this time.
NOW SHOWING CHARACTER ATTRIBUTES
STRENGTH: 0
INTELLIGENCE: 0
AGILITY: 0
DEXTERITY: 0
LUCK: 100
ACHIEVEMENTS:
'Oh you lucky so and so.'
'Innate colon user.'
“What's that last one do?”
There was an old saying in the hero's world, that some things were better left unsaid. It was a valid suggestion in any situation where the narrator might get a hangover in the future.
The young hero quickly understood the subtext that was implied and hurried over to the tiger's corpse.
“I do?”
He did.
“Ow.”
Yes.
“So what am I looking for?”
Valuable parts of any monster are the canines, the fur and the eyeballs.
“Eww.. why the eyeballs?”
Some superstitions believe that eyeballs give you larger genitalia.
“.... How in the hell would that work? Like biologically speaking, how the hell would that work? At all?”
User wishes to spend stat points to unlock 'Tiger biology and mysticism 101' ?
“What? No. It's bad enough I have all my points in luck. I'm not going to sacrifice them to read a thousand pages about the healing powers of the tiger's ding ding.”
Specific issue is only 650 pages. Suggested topic is covered in less than 50 pages.
“Doesn't matter, I don't want to know about tiger dong. Just tell me what parts I need to harvest.”
The tiger's body dissolved in a puff of smoke and left behind two small bags. In the first were his eyeballs. In the second... as requested... his unmentionables.
“I NEVER REQUESTED THAT, YOU'RE LYING!”
The subtext was heavily implied.
“Oh you bastard...”
Consume unmentionables now or later?
“Shut up, that's going nowhere near my body.”
Item was discarded and instantly consumed by a nearby level 1 rabbit. It mutated into a level 2 horny rabbit.
“Oh for god sake.”
The mentulomaniacal hero grabbed a stick and beat down on the horny rabbit. The horny rabbit screamed out “Harder daddy, harder!” Defeated and utterly consumed by his mentulomania, the hero wandered off and headed to the nearby town to drink away his sorrows.
“You're a sick bastard, you know that?”
Hero's value assessment hampered by lack of intelligence. Unfounded slander requires a base intellect of 10.