Message from discussion
Humorous Story (Part Two)
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From: mmcal...@cs14.UVic.CA (Michael McAleese)
Newsgroups: rec.games.frp
Subject: Humorous Story (Part Two)
Message-ID: <1991Nov19.041802.26601@sol.UVic.CA>
Date: 19 Nov 91 04:18:02 GMT
References: <1991Nov19.041613.26435@sol.UVic.CA>
Sender: n...@sol.UVic.CA
Organization: University of Victoria, Victoria B.C. CANADA
Lines: 419
Nntp-Posting-Host: cs14.uvic.ca
This is part one of a story I wrote with a friend. It is one of a whole
series we wrote about one of the gaming groups we were involved with, only
a few of which are free enough from inside jokes to be even remotely
comprhensible to others. The genesis was a D&D game set in the Judges
Guide module "Verbosh", which was a mini-campaign laced with bad puns and
subtle in-jokes itself. Let me know what you think...
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A Monk is A Monk (Part II)
"Oh boy! It's huge! Think of the experience!" laughed the paladin,
winding up and sailing his sword into it. When his glowing sword whanged
off its hide, nicking the blade, his smile faded somewhat.
Dingbat, meanwhile, had found an adjoining passage and was thoughtlessly
exploring along without his compatriots. In the distance behind him he
thought he could discern some kind of commotion. He paused to listen.
"Look out! It's gonna breathe!" someone yelled.
"Watch out for the tail! Watch out for the poison spines!"
"YAAARRRGGH!"
"Ouch! Duh, that smarts!"
"Eat lightning slimeface!" <C R A C K>
"Oh my gods! It's bigger you idiot!"
"Well how was I supposed to... yaaagh!"
"Quick, quick, toss me the potion...!"
Suddenly a cell door came cart-wheeling past Dingbat and drove itself
into a stone wall.
"Hot puppies! A fight!" he cried, spinning and clicking his heels in
the air. He rounded the corner and sped down the corridor in monkish
over-drive, a cloud of floor tiles following in his wake. He arrived at
the cell and ducked through the skewed doorway. The cell, once dark, was
now liberally coated with globs of glowing ichor.
The first interesting thing he noticed was the glowing pentagram on the
floor, filled with swirling, glowing mist. Next to it the wizard had been
driven face first into the sod so hard he had dug a trench some three to
four spans deep. Rodent, who had fumbled in the last moments, staggered
past him with his sword firmly imbedded in his own helm, obviously mildly
discomforted as he kept muttering,
"Rats! Rats! Rats!..."
Over in the far corner, Playdough, while asphyxiating in the reflexive
death-grip the daemon had around his throat, still managed to slam his
magic dagger into it enough times to snuff it. Having done so he slumped
unconscious.
Thought technically dead, the beast reared up to its feet and stumbled
a half-step toward the monk. Then, even as it began to topple that way,
Dingbat wound up and gave it a crushing karate chop in the breadbasket,
deflecting it back down into the hole. There was a sound like a Mac truck
backing over fifty cases of light beer and the hole vanished.
"That's that." said Dingbat nursing his bruised knuckles. He looked
around and assessed the situation with expert eyes. Rodent had stopped
staggering. In fact he had gone rigid and toppled over like a felled oak.
Dingbat expressed heartfelt concern.
"I'm not gonna have to get any of you raised, am I?" he whined.
"Gak. Potion... Healing..." mumbled Sauramud, feebly motioning toward
his pack.
"Hm? Well let's have a look." said Dingbat. "Hello. How did I miss
that?" He extracted a potion labeled "healing", carried it over and dumped
it down the ranger's throat, ignoring the wizard's pointed groans of pain.
"Ah, that's better." said Rodent, freeing his sword and resheathing it.
"Now let's see about the paladin." When the paladin had been revived and
healed himself the groans from the wizard stopped sullenly.
"Oh somebody bandage him." said Rodent. The monk went over and tied a
few bandaids onto the prone magicer.
"Well I'm conscious, I suppose that's something." he snivelled. "But I
would be so much more effective as a party member if someone would give me
a potion of healing..." He eyed Rodent significantly. Rodent groaned
theatrically.
"I suppose I can spare one." he said finally.
"ONE?" asked the others in unison.
"Surely you all visited the alchemist before we left and stocked up on
potions, didn't you?" asked the ranger.
"I stopped in, but they were all out." said Sauramud.
"Duh, just how many ya got there?" demanded Playdough.
"Hmm." muttered Rodent, ignoring him and rummaging through his bulging
backpack amidst a clinking of vials. "Let's see, invisibility, growth,
spanish fly, ah yes, extra-healing. Here you are." He tossed it to the
wizard carelessly, who juggled it for some moments before sucking it back
(nearly inhaling the stopper in his haste).
"I feel great!" shouted Sauramud, running up one wall, across the
ceiling and down the far wall. "Yowzers! Send out those orcs! I'll
murdalize them!"
"I hate him when he's on a potion high." said Dingbat to the paladin,
who morosely agreed. In due course Sauramud had been settled down and the
party, once more in peak condition, scuttled out and down the corridor.
"I can't believe they just left our door open." said Dingbat.
"I agree." said Rodent. "I suspect some ulterior motive."
At this point, the corridor evidently emerged into a large room up
ahead. The foursome advanced carefully, only to be half-blinded by a
directed light spell as they stepped through the opening. Behind them an
iron porticullis slammed down. The light rose, illuminating a packed
arena with our heroes milling at the edge of the blood-spattered floor.
Somewhere overhead a magic mouth spell intoned loudly,
"Humans, Demi-Humans and Humanoids! It is the great pleasure of Dragor
to present this evening's main attraction - four lowly adventurers being
slaughtered by Gronko the Grim!"
"Who's he callin' lowly!" said Playdough angrily. "I'm gonna kill
someone for that!"
A large figure in glowing black plate armor stood up in the imperial
box at the far end of the arena and leaned forward against the rail.
"So." it boomed hollowly. "These are the pitiful creatures who thought
to challenge my evil plans with a surprise raid. How pathetic. Now I
shall deal with you as all enemies of Dragor are treated..." he paused.
"By the way, which of you is 'The Great Dingbat'"?
"Oh no," cried the monk. "You're not going to twaddle me, are you?"
The others collapsed in laughter behind him.
"Excuse me?" boomed Dragor.
"You chaotic-evil bastards!" screamed Dingbat at his hysterical
companions. "You and your stupid..."
"What's that? Chaotic-evil?" said Dragor. "Maybe you boys are okay
after all. If you survive my champion, I shall consider your possibilities
as my servants."
"We fear no champion!" said Rodent haughtily. "Send us your worst!"
"Oooohhh!" went the crowd in awe, as Dragor boomed,
"So be it!" and waved its mailed hand regally.
"How about the second-best?" yelled Sauramud frantically. There was a
steady chinking sound from the far end of the arena as a massive steel door
slowly rose. It had risen some three feet and had yet to reveal more than
the ankles of something that lurked behind.
"Third-best?" asked Sauramud weakly.
"Duh, I hope this one can't breathe acid." said Playdough, examining
his melted shield.
"And fire." agreed Rodent, fingering what was left of his helmet plume.
"And..." began the wizard, but he was cut off by a massive bellow as
the giant figure reached an impatient hand under the door and slammed it
open. Revealed was a hideous thingie, barely humanoid and ugly enough to
curdle milk at fifty paces.
"I wunner if it's evil." mused Playdough.
"It matters not." said Rodent swinging his bastard sword experimentally.
"It's big and ugly, so we can assume it's evil too."
"Now statistically..." began Sauramud.
"Die, fell beast!" cried Dingbat as he leapt forward.
"Let's take him!" said Rodent, racing forward to the startled beast.
"Death!" screamed Playdough, launching himself forward in a Paladinical
frenzy. "Kill, kill, kill!"
"Oh what the hell." said Sauramud, and reefed out a scroll. "My last
one, but it's a doozy!" he cackled. The giant thingie was being stomped
pretty badly at this point, never having been set against adventurers that
actually ran towards it. Sauramud chanted off his spell and blew off its
left arm with a magical howitzer spell that shook the arena foundations.
"I hit!" he said gleefully. "It worked! They said it would just blow
up in my face, but it didn't! I'm great!"
"Don't get all smug." interjected Rodent. "It's still doing rather well
for itself." Indeed it had picked up its severed arm and was attempting to
beat Playdough senseless with it. This, however, was a fatal mistake, as
Playdough never had sense on the best of days. While it was so occupied
the others duffed it up _a treat_. It finally succumbed when Dingbat drove
half a yard of his monkish joy-stick into its right ear. While Sauramud
steadied a reeling paladin, Rodent and Dingbat looted the corpse furtively.
Finding little but a sweat-stained loincloth (which the monk pocketed in
the belief it was magical) they turned and regarded the black armoured
figure once again.
"So much for your little friend." said Rodent as he bandaged a nasty
cut he had given himself. "Playdough, had me that thumb, will you?"
As Dragor regarded them, a small hobbit-like figure began hopping up
and down next to him in the imperial box.
"That one in the monkish boots!" cried Clyde the Hobbit. "He's mine!
I gots plans for him, I duz!"
"So that's where you ran to, you dastardly minute microenphalic!" said
the ranger heatedly.
"What?" asked Clyde.
"He means you're a sneaking little brainless traitor!" yelled Dingbat.
"Come down and fight us!"
"Master! I wants 'em dead! Kill 'em, huh?" whined Clyde.
Dragor regarded Clyde momentarily, then snatched up the hobbit and
ripped off his head with a single smooth motion. It casually sucked the
blood from the corpse then tossed the messy pieces to one side and turned
to face the party.
"Now, I'm a reasonable being." Dragor stated placidly (most of the party
was woofing their cookies noisily at this point). "If you join me, you
can live out the remainder of your lives in power and splendor. Refuse
and you die... unpleasantly. Choose!"
There was a huddled conference.
"We accept." stated Dingbat regally, as Rodent appeared about to speak.
The ranger glared at him for a moment.
"That is true," Rodent said. "We have decided to join your little band."
"Yeah," said Sauramud. "We want to uh, help you plan your nefarious
schemes for the city of Vermouth."
"Duh, no we don't." said Playdough, but was shushed down by the others.
Sauramud took him aside to explain the virtue of lying once again.
"But I can't lie! It's not Lawful Good." whined the Paladin.
"Oh for goodness sakes, I'm Lawful Good and I lie all the time."
"Duh, like when?" demanded Playdough dangerously.
"Well," said the wizard. "Do you remember that time I told you paladins
could only wear two magic rings?"
"Duh, yeah." said the paladin, gazing longingly at the ring on the
wizard's finger and the two on his own. (You recall from previous tales that
Sauramud's ring of protection is actually the paladin's).
"Well you can wear as many as you want."
"REALLY?"
"No, I lied." laughed the wizard. "See, it's easy."
"What are you two scheming about?" demanded Dragor.
"Oh, nothin', yer vileness." said Playdough, winking at the ranger and
nodding knowingly.
"I see..." said Dragor, eyeslits narrowing. Sauramud slapped a hand to
his forehead in disgust. "Come, let us retire to my lair and discuss
Chaotic Evil things."
"Duh, I don't like this." whispered Playdough as they followed the dark
one out of the arena. A few dozen guards stepped out to follow them.
They walked down a dozen corridors, up many stairs and down many more.
They passed through a very large armoury, and again through one that was
even larger!
"It appears you are prepared for quite a scrape here." said Rodent,
looking up from the map he was hastily sketching. "How many troops did
you say you had?"
"When one plans to conquer the known world, one needs make many
preparations."
"It certainly seems you are well prepared." agreed the monk, looking in
one doorway at five hundred orcs doing jumping jacks with military ]
precision. "What kind of plans have you made?" he asked, faking mild
disinterest.
"Plans?" bellowed Dragor, turning to tower over the monk. "You wish me
to tell you my plans?! Why do you ask? Isn't it obvious? I shall raise
the mightiest army this world has ever seen!"
"And then?" prompted Rodent.
"I kill anybody who doesn't do what I say." said the dark figure
ominously.
"Sounds like one of the wizard's plans." said Playdough contemptuously.
"It does not!" snapped Sauramud, "Though one does have to admire its
elegant simplicity and bold vision."
"Thank you." said Dragor modestly. He opened a door at the end of the
hall they were in and stepped aside. "And now, after you gents." The
foursome brushed past him into an empty 20'x20' room and stopped abruptly.
"Hey, what gives?" demanded Rodent as the door clanged shut behind them.
"Where's all the furniture?"
"Nya ha ha ha!" came the maniacal laugh from the other side of the closed
door. There was a 'chunk' of several dead-bolts falling into place. "You
fools! You have walked right into my favourite deathtrap!!"
"Deathtrap?" cried Sauramud. "But I though we were all good pals! Is
that any way for a host to act?"
"Act?" screamed the voice from the other side which sounded like it was
slavering. "Let me tell you about acting! Do you think you Lawful Good
cretins could actually fool me into thinking you were evil like me?"
"Well, it was worth a try." muttered Dingbat. Then in a louder voice
he yelled. "What a stupid plan Sauramud! I could have thought of a better
one in my sleep!"
"I could arrange for you to sleep a very long time, my friend." said the
thaumaturge angrily.
"Cease this childish bickering." admonished Rodent. "Now help me look
for the secret door out of here before the walls start closing in or
something equally predictable."
"Don't be an ass." said Sauramud, sitting down dejectedly. "No logical
creature would put a secret door in a death trap."
Suddenly a small panel opened up in the wall next to the door and Dragor
poked its head into the room.
"Are you gentlemen comfortable?" it asked sweetly. "Yes? Good. Ah, I
see yon monk has noticed the grating in the wall to your left."
"Uh?" said Dingbat, who had been climbing it absently. "Oh yeah. Watch
it guys, it's sharp." He jumped to the floor and began to bandage his
freely bleeding hands.
"This grate shall slide gracefully accross the floor and make julienne
fries out of you fellows. Slowly." It grinned warmly, showing several
rows of polished and sharpened incisors. "Should you survive this test,
then the floor will slam up to meet the ceiling at warp five. If that does
not do you in, the lava and poison gas will! Then we release the flies on
what's left of you so that the maggots can..."
"WE GET THE IDEA!" said Rodent. "It's a typical silly deathtrap." He
turned and continued to examine the far wall.
"It is not silly!" stormed Dragor. "Nobody calls my deathtrap silly and
gets away with it!"
"So what are ya gonna do about it? Kill us?" said Dingbat, waggling
his fingers in his ears and doing monkish cartwheels of taunting. "Silly
silly silly! Dragor makes silly deathtraps!" he jeered.
"Argh! I have no time for these inanities. I have many important
things to do. None of which are SILLY!" It withdrew its head and slammed
the little window shut forcibly. This had the serendipitous effect of
drowning out the 'click' as Rodent popped open the secret door on the far
wall.
"Ha, I knew it was here somewhere. Come on guys." he called, stepping
through to the dark passageway beyond. The others followed on his heels,
Playdough clearing through just as the walls of the room whooshed together
behind them.
"Duh, where do you 'spose this corridor leads Sauramud?"
"Huh?" said the wizard.
"Ignore him, he's still in shock that the ranger actually found a secret
door - for once." said the monk, skulking monkishly down the corridor after
Rodent.
"Huh?" said Sauramud. He looked back once more in disbelief before
shrugging himself back to reality and plodding after the disappearing back
of Playdough. From ahead he heard the ranger walk into a wall and curse
noisily.
"Hush, there appears to be a secret door here." called Rodent loudly
over his shoulder. "Well don't just stand there and gawk, help me open it!"
"Well you were doing so well applying your helm to it." said Dingbat
snidely. They all pitched in to the effort and after only a few missed
die rolls, and much more cursing, they finally pried it open with the aid
of the paladin's two-hander.
"Hey! There's a harem through here!" said Dingbat delightedly.
"And look, they's all drugged." cried Playdough, distracted from
grumbling over the bent tip on his sword.
"Yup! Those are the best kind." cackled the wizard.
"Oh really." said Rodent icily, glaring at the wizard.
"Or so I've heard, I meant." amended Sauramud hastily.
"Yeeaah." said Dingbat somberly. "Say, I've got a whiz-bang corker of
an idea! We'll all disguise ourselves as houris and..."
"WE WILL NOT!" said the other three in unison.
"Sure, it's easy." said Dingbat. "Just watch. I do it all the... it's
easy!" He was reefing the silks off a zombified female whom he stuffed
unceremoniously into a closet. The others watched with mixed expressions
of resignation and disgust as he expertly pulled the fineries over his
monkish jodpurs.
"My gosh, are you ugly in a dress." sneered Sauramud.
"Up yours." said Dingbat. "Besides, you'll never know me once I get
the mascara on." Suddenly there was a stomping sound in the outside
hallway and some booming off-key humming.
"Oh no! Dragor is coming!" hissed Rodent. "Quickly, let us hide in
these three convenient alcoves." The four of them leapt into the three
alcoves. Dingbat and Sauramud scuffled over one of them until the wizard
won the battle and heaved the friar onto his duff in the middle of the
floor. Having time do little else, Dingbat wormed under the covers of a
nearby bed. From behind the alcove curtains the others heard the the door
open and Dragor stomped into the room.
"Yo ho ho my pretty ones!" it chortled. "I have just dispensed with
some Lawful Good types, and you know how that always makes me frisky."
There was the clank of armour falling to the ground. "And which of my
lovelies wants to play 'sword in the scabbard' tonight? You there, under
the covers!" There was a rustle of bedsheets.
"You're not going to twaddle me are you?" came an apprehensive squeal.
"Say, you're new here, aren't you... <THWUMP> ...ooooooohhh!"
"Hey guys, Dragor's just some wimpy white guy!" They all stormed out
of their alcoves. True to the monk's words, there was a shrivled old man
writhing on the floor holding his groin.
"Gosh, he looked a lot bigger in armour." said Sauramud.
"All an act." said Rodent. "Lo, his false fangs lie there, and the red
eyes are naught but contacts."
"Unnngh." groaned Dragor in extreme pain. "... guards ..." he moaned
quietly.
"He's tryin' tuh summon the guards!" cried Playdough in alarm. "Let's
kill 'im quick!" As one they tied into the old duffer with many a chop.
'THWACK' went their weapons. 'CHOP DICE SLASH PUNCH CRACK ZAP REND
MURDALIZE PUNT' (bleed splatter) 'CRUNCH HACK POKE FOOSH PUREE...' - well,
I'm sure you get the idea.
"Hey, that was easy!" enthused Dingbat, sproinging up and down on the
bed.
"Took a lot of hit points though." said Playdough, examining the dulled
edge on his magical two-hander (to go with the bent tip).
"Yah, well he was out of armour with no weapons, surprised, stunned,
and his pants were down around his ankles. I doubt he fought at peak
efficiency." pointed out Sauramud.
"Never-the-less I believe we gave a good account of ourselves." said
Rodent pompously.
"Didja see the way I incapacitated him with my monkish gaunch pull?"
cried Dingbat excitedly. There was a pause.
"Uh, Dingbat, he's not wearing a gaunch."
"Ah." said Dingbat. "So." He whaffled for awhile then inexplicably
perked up. "Say, we should get a good price for his head!"
"Would you believe that was the head of the evil Dragor, a.k.a. Flesh
Renderer, Soul Eater, Widow Maker, etc etc?"
"Well, no. Probably not." said Dingbat with dawning horror.
"Dang." said Playdough. "I was looking forward to that reward money!"
"Well, we could still loot his treasure horde." said Dingbat, then his
sharp ears perked up. "Hist! The guards!"
"How could they have heard?" growled Rodent. "Somebody somewhere sure
blew a die roll!"
"Don't look at me." said Sauramud. "Quick, we've got to do something.
I know. Somebody scrawny can get into that armour and fool the guards."
All eyes turned to Dingbat.
"Ouch! Don't shove that on so hard! I'm not used to armour."
"Well I can't get this helm on if you're gonna squirm like that." said
Playdough, twisting it on firmly.
"Sauramud you fool. You're putting those leggings on backward."
scolded Rodent.
"I am not." <SHOOP> "Whups, I guess you're right. Well whadda ya
expect? I don't wear armour neither! Word of advice Dingbat, don't try
to kneel."
"Why?" demanded the monk, trying to peer about in his great helm. "What
will happen if I do?"
"No time, here come the guards." said Rodent, ducking back into the
alcove. The guards burst into the room agressively and took up defensive
stances.
"You called, Supreme Dark Commander." stated the guard leader blinking
at the monk's leggings and the bits of lacery poking out from the joints
of the armour.
"Ah, yes!" boomed Dingbat, voice booming oddly inside the volumous helm.
"I've been thinking, and I would really like for you to bring here all of
the gold in the treasury so I can - uh - count it."
"Oh Your Great Imperious Nastiness, you spent your last two coppers on
the orcish armour just this morning."
"Ah, yes, so I did." agreed the monk. "In that case I have new general
orders for you." Thinking rapidly Dingbat continued. "Order number one,
monks shall now be worshipped in the shrine in place of the dark gods."
"It shall be done." said the guards, bowing to touch their foreheads to
the floor.
"Secondly," said the monk, warming to the situation. "The password for
the day shall be 'Sauramud is a doofus'." He heard Rodent mutter something
about 'twaddling monks' behind him and he added, "And thirdly, all rangers,
if found - shall be gagged."
"All shall be as you say, Great One." said the guards all in unison.
"One last thing." said Dingbat slyly. "All guards shall fall on their
swords."
"Right-o" <CHOONK>.
"Nice work Dingbat." said Rodent as he stepped out of the alcove and
whacked Dingbat on the back approvingly. The monk, unused to balancing in
armour, fell forward to his knees awkwardly.
<CRUNCH> "Yaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrggggggghhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!"
"Ouch! I bet that hurt." winced Playdough.
"I could feel that one from here." agreed Rodent. Dingbat was ill
disposed to banter, having turned several shaded more pasty. He was
rolling about on the floor emitting peeping noises. "Come on, let's get
him out of the armour and bandage him or something."
Later, they emerged from the underground fortress, stepping over some
of the many guards, all with self-inflicted sword wounds through the heart.
"Well that sucked." groused Playdough, kicking at a corpse. "We didn't
get nuthin!"
"Except the experience." piped Dingbat, who had recovered enough to
bound about lamely.
"And precious little of that. No thanks to someone ordering the guards
to suicide!" said Sauramud testily. "I'll never reach seventh level at
this rate!"
"Oh don't be such a wet blanket." chimed the monk with forced
cheerfulness. "Such things pale when you consider the great, Lawful Good
service we have performed for the cause of righteousness and decency."
"Duh, piss off!" snapped the Paladin.
Endus Maximus
--
* mmcal...@cs14.UVic.CA (Michael McAleese) : I speak only for me... *
* "Life isn't fair, Calvin." *
* "I know, but why can't it ever be unfair in my favor?" *
* - Calvin & Hobbes *
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