Number 1 enters the room.
NUMBER 0: Hello there. Welcome to the party, Number 1.
Number 1. “Number 1.” Is that my name here by default or is it just ‘cause I’m the first one in here?
NUMBER 0: Yes. Please take a seat.
NUMBER 1: Two Star Wars references in a row. Okay. Alright.
NUMBER 0: You underestimate my power.
NUMBER 1: Snorts—Jesus Christ, we got it.
Number 1 sits at the table. Number 2 and Number 3 enter the room next.
NUMBER 0: Number 2, Number 3, welcome, welcome.
NUMBER 3: Wuh? Who’s Number 2 and who’s Number 3?
NUMBER 0: You.
NUMBER 2: Me?
NUMBER 0: You’re Number 2.
NUMBER 2: Ah.
NUMBER 3: And I’m Number 3?
NUMBER 0: That’s right. Now take a seat.
Number 2 and Number 3 take seats at the table around Number 1. The group waits a hot second for Number 4 to arrive.
NUMBER 0: Number 4, running late again.
NUMBER 3: Classic Number 4.
NUMBER 1: That idiot, Number 4.
Number 4 enters the room, 49 seconds late.
NUMBER 0: Number 4! There you are.
NUMBER 4: ‘Sup.
NUMBER 3: Hi. I’m Number 3.
NUMBER 4: That’s how we’re identifying ourselves?
NUMBER 1: Guess who’s Number 1?
NUMBER 2: Is it you?
NUMBER 1: That’s right. Suck my balls.
NUMBER 0: Take a seat, Number 4.
Number 4 walks to the table, picks up the last chair, and holds it over her head. She lets the joke settle. Number 2 sighs.
NUMBER 4: Aren’t I hilarious?
NUMBER 1: Actually take a seat or I’m taking your ovaries.
NUMBER 4: Hey!—Puts chair down and sits—Don’t touch those…
NUMBER 0: Touch her ovaries and I touch your nuts.
NUMBER 3: If we should grabbing anybody’s balls here, it should yours, Daddy Dungeon Master.
NUMBER 0: I’m not a Dungeon Master, and you aren’t grabbing my balls.
NUMBER 3: What if I grab Number 2’s?
NUMBER 2: Place one finger near my wiener and I’ll kill you.
NUMBER 0: Okay! Is there enough of a chain of threats between us that nobody’s reproductive organs are getting fondled with? That question is rhetorical, now shoosh. So now that the holy quartet is assembled here, our very own Session 1 can begin. Or… don’t usual D&D games start with a Session 0 before the story happens? Sure, we’ll make this our 15 minute Session 0 just to go over all the basics again, and in case there’s any last-second adjustments you want to make with your characters because you misread the rules or something. So, first thing! This is not your usual tabletop RPG game. Everything that you know about Dungeons and Dragons?
Number 0 pantomimes crumbling a ball of paper and throwing it to the nearest trash bin like a basketball player.
NUMBER 1: Applauding—Nothin’ but net, flawless.
NUMBER 0: This is not D&D. This is something else entirely. There is no playbook of monsters and spells and classes we are following here. This kind of game is literally just whatever madness it turns into. The one thing that is consistent is that nothing is consistent. This is going to be as absurd and ridiculous as doesn’t stretch the bounds of fantasy to the point of disbelief. Some tropes will be borrowed, of course, but with our own little twist on things. The world you will be inhabiting is like… I think it’s called low fantasy. It’s all the usual quirks of fantasy worlds, but in a more… real life way. Like modern society, but with goblins and magic. You know. But first key detail: you are not on Earth. Nor are you in the Forgotten Realms. This is a planet far away in the galaxy away from Earth, where Earth humans have magically ended up. A long time ago from when you’re starting, some thousands of random people from Earth were suddenly teleported to this new Earth lookalike, with nothing but the clothes on their back and whatever was in their pockets. Some people took cell phones with them, or money, or whatever other cool trinkets you can think of. But all the tech infrastructure was gone. This planet was completely uninhabited by anything other than regular wonky-ass wildlife that you’ll come to encounter. So everybody had to start society from scratch. It was a mess. All kinds of language barriers, ideologies, ethnicities, just randomly jumbled together. But this world had… a magical quirk to it. Maybe it was something in the air, or nested in the earth—it was something… outside of what science could explain. The coming generations of people started to develop… strangely. They evolved in ways that they never had on Earth. Their biology changed, some people’s physiology changed… there were more interesting defects in the ways humans developed. People grew in different sizes, different shapes, with different capabilities, and some… some even developed special powers. Nothing so powerful as turn people into superheroes, no. These extranatural gifts sometimes made people more useful, or simply weirder, and sometimes they were hardly gifts at all. Powers developed in no pattern, completely at random, and no two people’s powers looked the same. This much your characters are aware of. Now—
NUMBER 4: Wait… “aware of…”?
NUMBER 0: Hush, hush, my child. We’ll get there. That’s just the setting that you’re in. The second part of this is the stats. Not your usual D&D stats, of course; these are ones that I cooked up. There are 15 of them, all scored 1 through 10. We have things like charisma—stamina—integrity—morality—immune system—muscle mass—depth perception—fingernails—body fat—brain activity—voice pitch—saturation—improvisation—body stability—and even mental stability. Now, allow me to explain what all 15 of these mean in precise detail.
NUMBER 3: Please do. I can’t wait.
NUMBER 1: Lecture my socks off, Daddy Dungeon Master.
NUMBER 0: I’ll lecture this dick in your ear. Now listen up: first up, what does “charisma” mean? Well, here it means your character’s conversational ability, like how well they talk to other people. Higher charisma means they’re more charming, more likable, and better at convincing people or arguing with them. Even if you the player is a charismatic black hole, we can warp things around. A charisma score of 1 basically means you’re a social recluse with no ability to hold a conversation. Stamina is basically energy. It’s your body’s physical capability, like how much you can do certain activities before getting tired and weary. High stamina means you can run a marathon, low stamina means you can barely get out of bed in the morning. Following so far?
NUMBER 4: My ears are all yours.
NUMBER 0: Okay. Third stats is—
NUMBER 2: I’m listening.
NUMBER 0: Good. The third stat is integrity. Integrity is basically a person’s backbone. It’s how strong their beliefs are or how determined they are to stay true to themselves. If you have high integrity, you would die before betraying what you believe and will argue or fight for a thousand hours before giving up. Low integrity means you’re a selfish prick who believes in nothing but themselves and will do or say anything under the slightest pressure. Morality is how good a person you are. If you have high morality, you’re an angel and have a perfect sense of what’s right and wrong, whereas if you have low morality, you’re human garbage and wouldn’t blink an eye twisting the head off of a puppy.
NUMBER 4: Don’t tell me that’s going to be a choice we face.
NUMBER 3: Uh, yeah, if you wanna tell me I have to choose whether to twist a puppy’s head off or kill an entire village or something, I’m twisting your head off.
NUMBER 0: Whatever you think I’m planning for, I’m not. Now, you’re immune system score is your ability to fight off infections should they appear. If the score is 10, you could beat cancer, if it’s 1, a common cold would kill you.
NUMBER 1: Oh darn. Well that’s… unfortunate…
NUMBER 0: Muscle mass is a substitute for strength, and you know what strength means. Why is called “muscle mass” instead of “strength”? …Yes. Obviously, a score of 10 is stronger and bulkier and 1 means you’re a wimpy little skeleton. Depth perception is all about vision, but also a little about intelligence. See, there’s two kinds of depth: physically, like your vision, and emotionally. This stat influences your aim and hand-eye coordination, and also your general emotional intelligence. A 10 means you’re a sharpshooter + master psychologist, a 1 means you’re a fucking idiot in both ways. Now, for the one you’ve no doubt had many questions about: fingernails. The state and sheer power of your fingernails may be a more important point for the story than you think. Maybe you want to scratch somebody, or peel a sticker off a table or whatever. A fingernail stat entails the right balance of mass, length, shape, and lethality. If you’re fingernails are a 10, then those aren’t fingernails, you have fucking claws. You are a deadly creature. If you’re a 1, you don’t even got fingernails. All clear on the fingernails?
NUMBER 2: So clear.
NUMBER 1: Who else up strokin’ they fingernails rn?
NUMBER 2: Why are you so fucking weird?
NUMBER 0: Hey! Hey! What’s the next stat? What is it? Oh, that’s right, it’s body fat. Body fat is kind of just a contrarian way of saying your weight, but also your mass. It can affect both if you’re standing on a shaky bridge or trying to fit through tight spaces or people making fun of you. Of course, you can still be heavy without being fat. But there’s no stat for general weight, so this is what counts. Another sidenote: the stat is relative to what kind of dude you are. If you’re like a big ass ogre or something, a fat stat of 10 means a lot more than if you’re a little elf guy. But you’re still a fat fuck. And! It’s not mutually exclusive with muscle mass. You can be fat and pathetic, or skinny and buffed up. As for brain activity, that is your general intelligence. Does your brain go fast? Do your neurons properly connect? Or do they misfire constantly to the point you can barely piece together 2+2? That is what is being measured. And then there’s voice pitch. It is—get this—the pitch of your voice. The higher the score is, the higher the pitch. How this gets used is a little up in the air, but I’m sure some opportunities will appear.
NUMBER 4: Ooh. Maybe it can affect intimidation.
NUMBER 0: It certainly could. No wacky antics are off the table. And then! And then! The next stat is saturation. This is how colorful you are, how much you stand out in a crowd. It’s like stealth, but more specific. A 10 is big and noticeable from a mile away, a 1 is just a bland ordinary Joe who nobody blinks at in a crowd. Improvisation is, you guessed it, your ability to improvise. To handle situations completely unprepared, make shit up on the spot. It can even apply to actual improv theater. No wacky antics off the table. It’s also not mutually exclusive with brain activity or charisma. You can definitely be the most likable genius in the room but suck balls at on-the-spot thinking, or an uncharismatic retard who can filibuster their way out of any situation.
NUMBER 2: I’m gonna run for Congress and do that.
NUMBER 1: Hehe.
Number 2 glances down at his character stat sheet.
NUMBER 2: Nevermind.
NUMBER 3: Wait, so if that and charisma aren’t exclusive, how can you be good at conversation without being good at improvising?
NUMBER 0: Improvising is just making shit up. If you’re trying to lie to someone in a conversation, that’s where improvisation would come into play. But you can still charm people’s pants off without having the fastest brain in town.
NUMBER 3: I see…
NUMBER 0: Now for the last two statisticals. Body stability is basically bodily control. It’s about keeping yourself still, staying balanced, and maybe even moving around your face muscles in a really weird way. Mental stability is a whole something else. It means sanity and emotional control. If the score is low, you’re absolutely bananas with a fine mixture of psychosis, depression, and/or dramatic mood swings. Straight out of the fuckin’ loony bin. If the score is high, you’re an upstanding confident citizen who believes in themselves fully and has sky high self esteem. I don’t anticipate any of you went that route with your characters.
Number 1 snorts.
NUMBER 4: Oh god.
NUMBER 3: Mental illness central, baby.
NUMBER 0: So that’s it for the stats. Now for the general mechanics of how the game part of the game is gonna look like. So, since all your stats are measured 1 to 10, that is going to inform your chances of success at whatever dumb shit you’re trying to do. Most of the time, if you’re trying to do something like arm wrestle a guy using your muscle mass stat, a score of 6 will give you a 60% chance of winning, and a 4 will give you 40%, and so on. Sometimes, the odds will even inverse. Like… with saturation. If you jacked that way high to like 9, and you’re trying to sneak around some people, your odds of succeeding are 10%. Or if you’re a fatass with a body fat score of 8 trying to squeeze through a tunnel, you’ve got a 20% chance.
NUMBER 1: And if that score is a full 10…?
NUMBER 0: Then you automatically lose. Vice versa, if you’re in a fat contest and your score is 0, then you automatically lose. No chance at all.
NUMBER 1: So if… hypothetically… your depth perception is 0… you lose every depth perception check.
NUMBER 0: Yeh.
NUMBER 1: Curious…
NUMBER 0: It’s too late to change your stats, by the way.
NUMBER 1: Oh yeah, I knew that…
Number 1 stops erasing his depth perception score and scribbles the 0 back in.
NUMBER 0: And also for the record: health points are not a thing. Something will either kill you or it won’t. No holds barred. Except for when I say so. And, I forgot to mention: your stat checks will determined by this here D10 that I borrowed from D&D dice collection. If you got a 60% chance of success, a roll of 4 or above will do it. I also borrowed a D20, as you can see—Whips out a D20 from his pocket—here! What will it be used for? Well, some things that you try to do will check two of your stats. So let’s say there you are, running from the cops. Running quickly takes a mix of stamina and, I don’t know, let’s say muscle mass. If both those scores hypothetically combine into 8, then you’ll need a roll of 12 to succeed.
NUMBER 4: Hold on a sec, Grand Master Whateverthefuck. How are we going to be doing checks on integrity and morality? When is that going to happen?
NUMBER 0: Oh, those two I’ll be weaponizing to fuck with you. You won’t be the only one making decisions for your characters.
NUMBER 2: Huh?
NUMBER 4: Wait—
NUMBER 0: You thought you were getting out of this game easy? You thought you would have a nice and fun and entertaining time in this clusterfuck D&D ripoff? You had a modicum of hope—
NUMBER 1: Stay away from me and my child, you pervert!
NUMBER 3: Oh dear. Oh golly…
NUMBER 0: No. No no no no no. I am the Grand Master here. I make all the rules, motherfucker. You ain’t shit in this room at this table.
NUMBER 4: So… what would that look like? Are you going to have NPCs try to convince us to do things, and then we have to roll for integrity or morality against it?
NUMBER 0: I don’t know, Number 4. Will it? Is that a thing that is guaranteed to ever happen? Will you be prepared for it? These are all pointless questions. Bottom line is: I can fuck with you however I want to. Some of you will probably die very quickly. At least all of you will die eventually. Everybody’s time in this universe is limited, so I advise you make the most of it before you get suddenly snuffed out. So, I believe I have spoken all my piece now. No big complicated rulebook is needed here, it’s all quite simple. Are we clear on the how things work?
NUMBER 1: Yup.
NUMBER 4: Think so.
NUMBER 0: Can you say, “Yes, Grand Master?”
NUMBER 3: Yes, Grand Master.
NUMBER 1: Yes, Grand Master.
NUMBER 4: Yes, Grand Master.
NUMBER 2: Yes, Grand Master.
NUMBER 0: Thank you, lady and gentlemen. Now, I believe formal introductions to our characters are in order? Each of you were given 65 points to allocate among all 15 stats—more may eventually be earned as you survive more experiences—so I’ll quietly check the math as you read yours out. You also have listed three or four weaknesses your characters have, just general personality flaws, along with three or four special powers they have, with varying degrees of usefulness. I suppose we should kick off with Number 1?
NUMBER 1: I mean, if I have to.
NUMBER 2: You do.
NUMBER 3: Num-ber 1! Num-ber 1! Num-ber 1!
NUMBER 1: Fuckin’ A. Alright. So, look here.—Whips up character sheet to his face—My dude’s name is Brad.
NUMBER 4: Just Brad?
NUMBER 1: Just Brad. No known last name or recorded family. For his background, I wrote, “Just a guy. He’s got a tail (a genetic defect) and a severe drinking problem. Very depressed, but also… very righteous.”
NUMBER 2: I like Brad already.
NUMBER 3: I’m so inspired by this guy.
NUMBER 1: For his stats, I put charisma as 5, stamina as 3, integrity as 9, morality at 10, immune system at 1, muscle mass at 3, depth perception as 0, fingernails at 7, body fat at 8, brain activity at 3, voice pitch at 4, saturation at 2, improvisation at 7, body stability at 2, and mental stability at 1.
Number 0 finishes writing the values on his own paper and tallies it in his calculator.
NUMBER 0: That’s 65 total. Enjoy never winning a single depth perception check.
NUMBER 1: Brad doesn’t need depth perception when he has his gut and a pint of rum. You’ll find it hard to jerk this guy around.
NUMBER 3: What are his powers? I’m all curious now.
NUMBER 1: Well, first, his weaknesses. Brad’s weaknesses are, in order: reminders of his mother, attractive women, purified water, and allergy to spellwood. Spellwood is just a kind of wood I made up for the world that our Grand Master is now required to shoehorn in.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
NUMBER 0: I haven’t grinded down the details of the world to the names of trees yet. You’re saving me time.
NUMBER 1: Cool! So, Brad’s powers are: beg God for forgiveness, cry on command, materialize a forty-ounce, and “idk the tail I guess.”
NUMBER 3: This guy can create alcohol? That’s incredible.
NUMBER 1: Stay drunk, stay unemployed.
NUMBER 4: Is this tail like a monkey tail, or a big lizard tail?
NUMBER 1: I mean, we’re related to apes, right? He’s got a big ass monkey tail.
NUMBER 2: Does the tail do anything special?
NUMBER 0: Do any tails do anything special?
NUMBER 4: Some animals use their tails to balance, I think.
NUMBER 2: But this guy can’t balance for shit with body stability that low.
NUMBER 1: It’s just funky genetics. Evolution didn’t do him kindly.
NUMBER 3: And what’s this about purified water? Does he only drink out of rivers or something?
NUMBER 1: His whole system is dirty. He lives in mud and grime. Anything that would see him cleaned out is detected as a threat by his immune system.
NUMBER 4: Oh, so his immune system actively fights things that are healthy? That score of 1 is gonna fucking kill you, man.
NUMBER 1: Hey, he’s made it this far, right?
NUMBER 2: It’s my turn. My character is next. I wrote about a guy named Middleburg Nickelhead.
NUMBER 1: That’s a fuckin’ mouthful.
NUMBER 3: Wow. That’s a real one-two punch of a name if I ever heard one.
NUMBER 0: Tell me more about Mr. Nickelhead.
NUMBER 2: Well, he’s a real out of touch asswipe. A real petty bitch. Bald as fuck. Doesn’t really give a shit about you and doesn’t know why he should. His skeleton is riddled with spikes, and he requires a steady diet of wood and metals to keep it healthy. And his skin needs to remain dry at all times, which makes him always smell like shit.
NUMBER 1: Wow!
NUMBER 3: A spiky skeleton? Damn!
NUMBER 4: This guy has to eat wood and metals? How does he eat metals?
NUMBER 2: He prefers a diet of coins and small mechanical pieces. He’ll eat screwheads, but a whole screw is too sharp and long. He’ll sometimes grab sticks off the ground and take bites out of them. It keeps his spiky skeleton nice and spiky.
NUMBER 4: He wants it to be spiky? Doesn’t it poke people when he touches them?
NUMBER 3: What kind of metals does he prefer to munch on?
NUMBER 2: The stronger the metal, the better. He’d kill for some titanium.
NUMBER 1: Do any big spikes grow out of his skin?
NUMBER 2: Hang on. I need to read stats. So, his charisma is 2, stamina is 9, integrity is 5, morality is 2, immune system is 3, muscle mass is 9, depth perception is 4, fingernails is 7, body fat is 0, brain activity is 4, voice pitch is 1, saturation is 6, improvisation is 2, body stability is 6, and mental stability is 5.
NUMBER 0: Another person sacrificing their immune system. Are you aiming for death via common cold too?
NUMBER 2: Look, I had limited points.
NUMBER 1: So this guy is like a tank. All muscle, wood, metal, and spikes. That’s sick.
NUMBER 4: Wait until he catches a fever.
NUMBER 2: Middleburg Nickelhead won’t fall to petty disease. He’s made of spikes. Look, his weaknesses are feelings of empathy, debt, hair of any kind, and slightly large quantities of water.
NUMBER 1: Bro’s afraid of hair.
NUMBER 4: He is bald.
NUMBER 3: If his weakness is water, how does my man stay hydrated?
NUMBER 2: Oh, I should’ve specified. He still drinks water, he just can’t get wet.
NUMBER 1: He gotta nourish his skeleton, dawg.
NUMBER 2: By the way, I allocated my points correctly, right?
NUMBER 0: Oh, yeah. You used all 65.
NUMBER 3: Oo, can I go next?
NUMBER 2: I’m not done! I still haven’t said his powers. He can summon spikes from pores in his skin—including bigger ones that are much more painful—that he can snap off and stab things with, and has retractable splinters all over his skin like a porcupine, and he can Tokyo drift like a motherfucker.
NUMBER 1: No way.
NUMBER 4: Middleburg Nickelhead, also known as the superhero Human Porcupine.
NUMBER 1: Shut up.
NUMBER 3: That’s gotdamn crazy. The guy can just shoot spikes out of his body like Wolverine? Bad-fuckin’-ass.
NUMBER 0: I wanna see that Tokyo drifting in action.
NUMBER 3: Okay, is it my turn now?
NUMBER 2: Yeah. I’m done.
NUMBER 1: Good luck following up Middleburg Nickelhead.
NUMBER 3: Oh, don’t worry. Hello, fellow travellers, my name is Rob Pastamoose.
NUMBER 4: Pastamoose?
NUMBER 1: Looks like there’s egg on my face now.
NUMBER 2: Rob… Pastamoose.
NUMBER 3: That is right. Although he prefers to pronounce it “Pas-tahmoose.”
NUMBER 1: That’s a copout. He’s not escaping the pasta-moose.
NUMBER 4: Does this mean there’s a whole family of Pastamooses out there?
NUMBER 1: I want to see a family of Pastamooses.
NUMBER 3: They’re all dead, actually.
Number 1’s jaw drops.
NUMBER 3: They’re not, but like, he’s a long ways away. Anyways, my Rob Pastamoose is something like a Ted Lasso. He’s a friendly good-ol’ backslappin’ country buckaroo gigglemug, who’s short-term memory is exceptionally bad. But if you ask him about racial stereotypes or demographic slurs, man, he’s like a gotdamn dictionary. It’s aaaaall up in his cranium.
NUMBER 2: Great. We needed slurs on this campaign.
NUMBER 0: I don’t object to this.
NUMBER 4: What are we getting into here? What the fuck is going on?
NUMBER 3: I know y’all are wondering about Rob Pastamoose’s stats, so I’ll tell ya.
NUMBER 2: Robert Pastamoose.
NUMBER 3: Indeed! So, he’s got a charisma of 8, stamina of 2, integrity and morality are 6, immune system is 3, muscle mass is a flimsy 1, depth perception is 5, his fingernails are 1, body fat is 2, brain activity is a 3, voice pitch is a 7, saturation is 8, improvisation is a 7, body stability is 2, and mental stability is 4. So… not in peak condition.
NUMBER 2: Looks like we’re all dying of the flu.
NUMBER 0: Of all the stats available that you could have sacrificed, why did everybody choose immune system?
NUMBER 4: Um, I didn’t. Just saying.
NUMBER 1: Shut up liberal.
NUMBER 3: Yeah, woman. Shut up.
NUMBER 4: I’m going to outlive every single one of you, in this game and in real life.
NUMBER 2: Wanna put that to an arm wrestling contest?
NUMBER 4: Big muscles won’t save you from dysentery, meathead.
NUMBER 0: Anyways. The 65 points were allocated correctly, now go on, Rob.
NUMBER 3: Sure thing, bucko. So, Rob Pastamoose’s weaknesses. His first one is obvious, it’s remembering something someone just said 15 seconds ago. Don’t be sending him on espionage operations. His second weakness is insects, rodents, and various other itty-bitty creatures. Critters are scary. His third and most powerful weakness… is the quiet.
Number 3 pauses. The room goes deathly quiet.
NUMBER 3: The quiet… the quiet… the voices…
NUMBER 4: Oh.
NUMBER 3: They never stop beckoning… Robert… Robert…
NUMBER 1: What powers do he got?
NUMBER 3: Oh. Well, his first power… Okay, his dick is hollow. His weiner is just a flabby sack of physiologically fucked up meat.
NUMBER 1: He just like me for real.
NUMBER 3: And, his body can, like, swallow in his hollow dick. You ever have a pair of rubber gloves and like, push in the fingers inside the glove? Yeah, his body does that with his dick. And when his dick is inverted, he gender-swaps into Regina Pastamoose.
NUMBER 1: Holy shit!
NUMBER 4: Genderfluid Rob Pastamoose? That’s so progressive.
NUMBER 2: Dick powers. That’s cool.
NUMBER 3: And then he can unfold his dick back out and turns back into Rob.
NUMBER 4: How does the gender swap happen? Like, what does it change?
NUMBER 3: Oh, it raises his voice, it pops out little tiddies, his hips and ass inflate, and his hair extends longer.
NUMBER 4: And when he swaps back to male, everything just pops back into place?
NUMBER 3: Yep. His hair slips back, all his extra fat pops back in, and his voice goes deeper again. It’s a whole process.
NUMBER 0: So his dick is like a button to push that changes his gender instantly.
NUMBER 1: When his dick is folded in, does it look like a pussy?
NUMBER 3: Yes.
NUMBER 1: Ah. So…You gon’ let the homies hit or what?
NUMBER 4: What do you mean? I’m right here.
NUMBER 1: Hell nah. You were born female. That’s fucking cringe.
NUMBER 4: Man, I can’t have shit.
NUMBER 3: By the way, Rob Pastamoose’s second power… well, it’s not totally a “power,” per se. Rob has a mechanical contraption in his chest like Iron Man’s arc reactor, and when Rob activates it, it can shoot out a big fuckin’ explosion, and everything close to it, including Rob, goes flying back. It’s fucking crazy.
NUMBER 1: Yes! I was waiting for someone to bring explosions to the squad!
NUMBER 3: But! Because Rob is such a nice guy, he really doesn’t like to use it.
NUMBER 2: We’ll change that.
NUMBER 1: Yeah. We’re using those explosions.
NUMBER 4: We’re totally going to be terrorists.
NUMBER 1: Humanity can teleport away from ISIS the organization, but they’ll never be free from ISIS the idea.
NUMBER 3: Dag nabbit, I should have made my character a former ISIS operative.
NUMBER 0: All the ISIS operatives from Earth are long dead.
NUMBER 3: But my guy could’ve been, like, from a family of ISIS guys.
NUMBER 2: How do ISIS operatives have families if they blow themselves up all the time?
NUMBER 0: Irrelevant questions. We’ll cross that bridge when we cross it.
NUMBER 1: Are there going to be ISIS families in the campaign?
NUMBER 2: Number 3, what’s your third power?
NUMBER 3: Oh! Rob’s third power is that he can cut all control of his body and go ragdoll mode. He can like, twitch his neck or something and his whole body goes limp and falls over.
NUMBER 1: Holy shit, like Gmod?
NUMBER 3: Yeah, like Gmod! He can just double over like he’s made of rubber, fall off a building, and not even feel it. Although he might feel sore when he switches back to normal.
NUMBER 4: What you gotta do is activate that explosion reactor thing, then ragdoll right before it goes off so you blast away like an actual Gmod guy.
NUMBER 3: That’s going to give Rob brain damage.
NUMBER 1: But it’ll be funny.
NUMBER 0: You people are flirting with death and the game hasn’t even started yet. Wait, so does this ragdoll effect make his body invulnerable?
NUMBER 3: Sort of. Like, it makes him like rubber, but rubber can still break. If he’s falling off the roof of a house, he won’t feel a thing. But if he does what Number 4 just said and launches into space, yeah, he’s fucked.
NUMBER 2: Can he deflect bullets?
NUMBER 3: Uh… no.
NUMBER 0: Yeah, no.
NUMBER 4: Hey! What time is it? Is it time for my character?
NUMBER 1: No.
NUMBER 4: Fuck you. Rob, do you got a fourth power or are you done?
NUMBER 3: Oh, yeah, I got a fourth power. That power is… er… keeping you from talking about your character.
NUMBER 1: Roasted.
NUMBER 4: You know what? I don’t even need your approval. I’m just gonna start. So, since everyone’s curious, my character’s name is… Zone Mary. She has no idea if her first name is actually “Zone” or if “Zone Mary” is just a title, but it’s all that she knows.
NUMBER 3: Now that’s a superhero name.
NUMBER 4: Yeah dude, we could definitely form like a super team. Exploding chest guy, the magical alcoholic, Zone Mary, and the Human Porcupine.
NUMBER 2: You’re not making that name stick.
NUMBER 4: Hey, you’re the one who referenced porcupines first. But about Zone Mary. She’s kind of a chill gal, goes with the flow, y’know. She’s mostly normal, especially for this group, but a little cold and hard to get on with. Very self-contained. She’s my self-insert character, a little bit. I’ve never done D&D before, so I’m not totally an expert in creating wacky people. But as for her stats: charisma is 3, her stamina is 4, her integrity is 6, her morality is 5, her immune system is 6, her muscle mass is 3, her depth perception is 4, her fingernails are 2, her body fat is 3, her brain activity is 5, her voice pitch is 6, her saturation is 3, improvisation is 5, her body stability is 6, her mental stability is 4. So unlike the rest of you bozos, I’m not getting killed by the common cold.
NUMBER 3: Laaame. Where’s the diversity?
NUMBER 2: Well, Middleburg Nickelhead is the only one who’s gonna be tearing shit up with his fingernails.
NUMBER 1: Hey, our fingernail scores are the same, retard. I’m the only fat fuck of the bunch though.
NUMBER 3: And also suffering from psychosis.
NUMBER 4: Don’t forget the literal 0 depth perception. But anyways, as for Zone Mary’s powers, her right foot and right foot only can basically defy gravity and all laws of physics. Like, she can move it around anywhere with her mind with no limits. She can shoot it way up and dangle her body upside down, or launch forward to super-kick somebody.
NUMBER 1: Like using the move tool on Photoshop?
NUMBER 4: Literally that. Her foot can go anywhere. It’s like a separate entity from the rest of her body. She can basically fly with it, but her body gets dragged behind her foot and looks hella weird.
NUMBER 2: What fucking genetic mutation caused that?
NUMBER 0: That ain’t for me to judge. You were given free reign for what your stupid powers are.
NUMBER 3: You could prank someone by pretending to be dragged away by a ghost.
NUMBER 4: You read my damn mind, Pastamoose. Also, her second power is that when she touches people, she dulls their brain activity and bodily functions. Makes them, I dunno, zone out, wink wink. When that’s pushed to its extreme, she can outright shut down people’s bodies or minds and just kill them.
NUMBER 2: Is that with any physical contact or just skin to skin?
NUMBER 4: Skin to skin. She generally wears gloves, because she can also use that power on herself.
NUMBER 0: Oh dear.
NUMBER 4: But there’s a caveat to all her cool powers. Because one of her weaknesses is that she very little control over them. She can make her right foot do lunges and stuff, but she can’t precisely control every movement that it makes. And she also can’t control how precisely her zone power works either. She could very well accidentally kill someone with it. Personality-wise, she doesn’t exert very much self-control either. She’s bad with feelings and with powers.
NUMBER 1: Typical woman.
NUMBER 4: Her big genetic defect is her very small stomach. It works just like any other stomach, but she can’t very much at a time. But everything she eats digests as quick as it would for anybody else, so she gets hungry constantly. She lives for snack food. And! I forgot to mention. She has a third power, and it’s that her fucking eyes glow!
NUMBER 3: Dang!
NUMBER 2: So she’s literally a Looney Tunes character?
NUMBER 1: Oh god. Thinking about being in a dark space with Zone Mary’s ominous glowing eyes is fucking terrifying.
NUMBER 2: How bright are those eyes?
NUMBER 4: They’re not flashlight bright, more like glowstick bright.
NUMBER 1: Well that’s even more fucking creepy.
NUMBER 2: Are her eyes full of liquid neon or something? I’m pretty sure that would be toxic.
NUMBER 4: So would eating coins and bark chips. But we have leeway here, yeah?
NUMBER 3: I’m still just curious where that name came from. Did you think of the powers first and then craft the nickname?
NUMBER 4: Oh, no. I came up with it by randomly swiping around my phone keyboard until it spewed out two words approximating a name.
NUMBER 3: Oh, cool. “Rob Pastamoose” was generated by a bot I put together. I was stuck choosing between the names Blake G. Cumnut, Harry McSquareburn, Dick Rebar, Ump Cocktesticle, Frank G. Aidsgoose, Gilbert Z. Goosepistol, Guy Scrotum, Rob Pastamoose, Steve T. Ironnuts, Dick Feetpiss, Josh Q. Shartbreath, Tarzan Bootyaids, Harry Heroin, and Dick Pancake. And I chose Rob Pastamoose.
Number 1 broke down in laughter after “Ump Cocktesticle.”
NUMBER 1: WHAT?!
NUMBER 2: What made you opt against Josh Shartbreath?
NUMBER 0: I’m sorry, does this bot just mash together a basic first name with two random words for the last name?
NUMBER 4: I wanna see this Ironnuts guy in action.
NUMBER 3: Yeah, I know you love iron nuts.
NUMBER 1: I’m sorry, but “Harry Heroin” is the funniest pair of words I have ever heard in my life.
NUMBER 2: Don’t suppose anybody is curious where Middleburg Nickelhead’s name came from?
NUMBER 0: Okay, okay, fuck… I have all your stats recorded here, so—Chokes in restrained laughter—so not a single one of you has mental stability above a 5. I have garnered this, and—and only Zone Mary has a brain activity above—Coughs—above a fucking 4. Is that right? And she is also the only one with an immune system better than 3?
NUMBER 1: That sounds about right, yes.
NUMBER 4: You all are so cooked.
NUMBER 0: Okay, Jesus Christ—Deeply exhales, barely holding together—This campaign is going to be disaster.
NUMBER 2: Don’t forget who wrote the rules, motherfucker. This is your own hell.
NUMBER 0: I also find it hilarious that Brad’s integrity is a whopping 9/10, but his backbone still isn’t strong enough to talk to women.
NUMBER 1: Yeah, when Rob’s dick folds in and he turns into a woman, that just instantly fucking sends shockwaves down Brad’s spine.
NUMBER 4: Dude, if he’s locked in a party with Zone Mary, he will never be able to function as a human person.
NUMBER 2: It’s shock therapy. This is just an elaborate shock therapy scheme to help Brad get over his fear of women.
NUMBER 0: It’s true, that’s the whole theme of the story. Humanity teleporting to an a new uninhabited planet is actually a metaphor for Brad’s severe alcoholism making every woman teleport miles away when he gets within 80 feet of them.
NUMBER 1: That’s so thought-provoking. We’re a real philosophy bunch here.
NUMBER 4: So is there like fast travel if I or Regina Pastamoose get close enough to Brad?
NUMBER 1: Brad struts into town and all the women in the streets disappear like endermen as he approaches.
NUMBER 2: And they make the same shrieking noises too.
NUMBER 0: Okay, can we like, reign ourselves in? This has been going way longer than 15 minutes, and we’ve gotta get started or we’re gonna be here forever.
NUMBER 4: Yessir, Grand Master.
NUMBER 3: Sure thing.
NUMBER 1:—Chokes—Will do, Grand Master.
NUMBER 0: Thank you. So… So our squad has been introduced. We have met the gang. We all know the very basics of how the game works. Do keep in mind that the rules for the game were kind of hashed together into something that could broadly work, and I am subject to change them at any time whenever convenient. This campaign will continue no matter what. No matter how ridiculous or mind-fucking or convoluted things become, we will drag this on for as long as possible. If your character dies, which I find to be overwhelmingly likely in your cases, you’re canned and somebody new will take your place. There is a very broad path for the story that I’ve got planned for you (which you cannot escape), but aside from that, the world around you that you find is yours to fuck with. Fuck around and find out. Fuck shit up, fuck people up, fuck people, I don’t fucking know. But once you’re out there, what happens next is up to you. Remember: nothing will be consistent. Everything will not make sense. But through all the tragedy, conflict, shenanigans, tomfoolery, and outright shit-throwing that’s going to ensue on this adventure, one thing will always remain: me. Number 0, the Grand Master. So welcome… one and all… to first session of The Ballad of Dead Kings: Dollars & Despair.
NUMBER 1: I am going to fuck all of you at some point.
NUMBER 2: Oh my god.
NUMBER 4: Brad!
NUMBER 3: —Indiscreetly winks—I’ll be waiting for you, teddy bear.
NUMBER 1: Even if it has to be with your dead bodies.
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