An Adventurer Is You & The GM Hates Your Guts (game)

The Game Room
81

“Your BFF pendant around your neck. look at it.”

“This doesn’t make sense,” Dirk waved his arm at the recently transformed Weird Ethyl. “She was this awful creature not so long ago, running around the village, terrorizing people in their sleep. Why didn’t anyone feed her some old cottage cheese before now?”

“Only an adventurer who is adventerous, true of heart, and wise has the power to change her back,” said Plothookia. “I suppose two out of three is enough.”

“But you said she was a regular person before,” Dirk stammered. “She doesn’t look exactly regular to me.”

“Let me explain,” Weird Ethyl stepped in. “Remember, King Bedwetter reigned over this land centuries ago. And during this reign, the kingdom fell under some of the darkest days it’s ever seen. It was in those dark times that the Hassenpoppagallootamagog appeared. Hassenpoppagallootamagog was very mean. About as mean as they come, really. As mean as it is hard to pronounce, so they say. Many refer to Hassenpoppagallootamagog as ‘The One Who Shan’t Be Referred To As Hassenpoppagallootamagog’ and it’s whispered that much of his meanness stems from frustration at people butchering his name throughout his childhood…”

“Wait, are you telling the story all over again?” Dirk asked.

82

Profoundly-less-weird-but-not-normal-as-such Ethyl attempted to slap Dirk with one of her tentacles, only to realize that she no longer had any such appendages.

“Well Shit!” she said, before continuing.

83

Just then, an man clearly hailing from the Eastern lands (wearing a strange dark blue hat, with the letters “NY” intertwined) materializes out of a puff of smoke, and walks up to Dirk, the Tamagotchi in hand.

“Alright, we managed to fix the reboot problem-your registry was borkered, but we found the problem and were able to repair it. We also did a full system scan while we were at it. If it malfunctions again, like, say, it starts to spontaneously spew Pig Yiddish in a death metal kind of voice, just give us a call. Here’s our card.”

The card says:

Lin’s Interdimensional Computer Repair
We also fix handhelds of all types
linternatCR@hades.com
718-232-9666

“Oh, that will be 69 gold pieces-and 99 coppers.”

“Umm…do you have change for 50 gold pieces and a Spican Flame Gem?” stammers Dirk.

“Why don’t I just keep the change, so we can get this stalled adventure jump-started?” the man suggests.

“Umm okay.”

At that the strange Eastern man vanishes in another puff of smoke.
Dirk then thinks to himself-ok, so where were we?

“I think you mumbled something about a talking rock?”, said Weird Ethyl.

“Yes! It was back in the Crags of Doom!”

“Well, why didn’t you say so in the first place!” the two women shout in perfect unison. “You could have saved us 20 posts worth of wasted exposition!”

“And yes we’re actually twins, in case you haven’t guessed that yet,” they simultaneously announce. “And as to the question as to which one of us is the Evil Twin, and which one the Good, well, you’ll just have to figure that out for yourself-tho it probably involves some silly logical stipulations and restrictions, such as the Good Twin only washes her feet on Tuesday night while the Evil One eats Livered Spam for lunch on Thursdays.”

84

Suddenly, a richly-dressed knight strides authoritatively into the scene.

“Enough of that. This scene has gotten entirely too silly. I’m not having things getting silly.” He separates Dirk from the “twins.”

“But it’s my only…” sputters Plothookia, attempting to interject. To no avail.

The knight sternly interrupts: “No, no. This scene is over. It’s very badly written and simply far too silly. We’re moving along now.” He addresses Dirk. “Be a good fellow and trundle off towards the north. That way. Castle Igthorn, that’s your destination. Mystic runes, tall spires and the lot. Let’s have a good, clean, healthy adventure. No more of this prattling on and on about irrelevant, silly gibberish.” The knight points Dirk to the north and swats him across the buttocks with the blade of his broadsword. Dirk in a hurry sets off, too startled to even look behind him. “Good lad. Off you go!”

“And as for you two…” The knight turns towards the twins, and puts both of them to a good, clean, healthy death by broadsword. As their blood pools on the ground …

85

Three men in red robes bound into the picture calling:

“showthread.php?t=560831”

“I did” says Until-recently-weird-but-not-normal-as-such Ethyl

At which point the entire scene becomes far too silly and nonetheless remains the same.

“He hated his parents most of all,” yadda-yadda yadda

“Get me a completed BFF ring, or bracelet, or whatever-the-fuck-you-damn-kids-think-is-original, and I will continue to participate in this farcical thread!”

Dirk again wields his wielding stick!

86

It was all just a dream. I leave it to you to judge how far back.

87

Dirk wakes with a start.

“What a bizarre and silly dream… men in red robes… magical interwebs… hypertext preprocessors… richly-dressed knights! Very strange.”

At that moment, Not-exactly-weird-but-not-normal-as-such-either Ethyl finished her speech.

“And that is why you will need a reunited BFF pendant and a spirit guide to confront ‘The One Who Shan’t Be Referred To As Hassenpoppagallootamagog’.”

“But I haven’t got a spirit guide.”

Just then, an man clearly hailing from the Middle lands (wearing a strange dark blue hat, with a stylized letter “C” ) materializes out of a puff of smoke, and walks up to Dirk, a platypus in hand.

“Alright, we managed to fix yer monotreme here. Eyes are all good and we renuded it. We couldn’t fix the leg since them are pretty rare.”

Dirk slipped the errant appendage deeper into his pocket.

“If it malfunctions again, like, say, it starts to spontaneously spew Ancient Lowland Pindelornian in a Gregorian Chant kind of voice, just give us a call. Here’s our card.”

The card says:

Floyd’s Interdimensional Spirit Guide Repair
We also fix Patronuses of all types
FloydsOfAntioch@spinquisition.com
847-232-9666

The platypus looks decidedly put out.

“Oh,” Ploothka interjected “You’ll probably want that talking rock too. Just to be sure.”

88

“You rang?” said the rock, which as it turns out had been standing behind Dirk all this time. “With all this constant lunacy going on about, what’s a rock which is 37% Harzburgite, 27% Phonolite, 19% Wackestone, 9% Serpentinite, 6% Jasperoid, and 1% Minette-with traces of Dolomite, Mudstone, Blueschist, & Schist”-he added dryly-“going to do?”

89

Dirk turns around to see who’s talking and stubs his toe on the rock again.

90

The rock laughs. “You really deserved that, you know.” Dirk got the urge to throw the rock again, but instead picked it up and shoved it into his satchel.

“Mmmph! Mmrggh! Burble!” the rock said. Actually, the rock likely said something else, but it sounded like “Mmmph! Mmrggh! Burble!” from the depths of Dirk’s bag.

“I guess I’ll be going now. North, to Castle Igthorn,” Dirk told the twins.

“Wait!” said Ethyl, rummaging around. “I forgot to give you something very important.” She stood up, thrusting a small object toward Dirk. “Without this, your journey would have been doomed before it even began.”

91

It was a copy of A Field Guide to Magic Mushrooms; in this case literally magic, given that this is a fantasy world. Ethyl smiled “you’ll see lots of mushrooms on your way, pick some to keep with you that may come in handy. Only be sure you’ve got the right kind. It can be a little tricky…”

92

So Dirk at long last strolls out of town, headed for the next stop on his glourious quest. After an hour or so, he notices some squat green mushrooms with purple polka dots and deeply folded gills next to the trail. Whipping out his field guide, he first notes the colored crosstabs:

“Okay, green mushrooms, family Toadstoolicus…pages 87-102…lessee…<flip flip flip> Well, according to this it’s either a Worsted Mandrigal (which apparently turns you into a mute leprechaun with incontinence issues), a Upland Jeremica (which makes whoever eats it involuntarily yodel while hopping around on one foot), or a Tickling Jenny (which induces maniacal fits of body-wracking laughter). Oh what the hey they might come in handy-I mean ya never know.”

Dirk picks a few of the mushrooms…

93

“<puff puff puff> Wait for me, nincompoop!” exhaled the rock (even tho rocks don’t have lungs). <pregnant pause> “Umm…you don’t want to be picking that species of mushrooms…”

“Why not?” inquired Dirk.

“Well…”

94

“Because we’re heading towards the murky, dreaded Swamp of No Return and everyone knows that happens when Tickling Jenny spores and swamp gas mix,” the rock rolled his eyes before adding “dummy.”

Dirk’s eyebrows furled like two consternated catepilars. “What happens?”

“Kaboom!” the rock kaboomed.

“Kaboom?” Dirk repeated.

“Kaboom!” the rock reaffirmed.

“Wait, are those Tickling Jenny’s?” the once quite weird Ethyl puffed as she caught up to Dirk and the rock." Don’t you know the legends of the Tickling Jennys?"

“Yes. Yes I do,” Dirk answered confidently. “What’s the legend of the Tickling Jennys?”

“The Legend of the Tickling Jennys is an old, old legend, surrounded by mystery, wrapped in myth,” Ethyl began. “The legend states that any person who was recently transformed from a hideous octopus monster with a spider head can take the Tickling Jenny --”

“And will ill be transofrmed back into her full beauty,” her twin Ploothka finished.

“Hey I was talking!” Ethyl grumbled.

“Yeah, you take too long,” her sister shot back.

“I do not!” Ethyl snapped back indignantely.

“You do,” Ploothka insisted. “You take so long that you never even got to finish your first story. So, is that a Tickling Jenny?”

“Well, I’m not entirely sure,” shrugged Dirk. “It could be a Worsted Mandrigal, an Upland Jeremica, or maybe even an Itholan Stinky Toe.”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out.” Ethyl snatched the mushroom out of Dirk’s hand before anyone else could act and shoved it into her mouth.

“Noooooooooo!” screamed Dirk. Then he stopped and looked at her. “Hey wait… wow…”

Ethyl’s body began to transform further. Her numerous bottocks merged into only two tight, curvy ones. Her hair sprouted like wild stallions charging through a broken fence, cascading down to her shoulders like a rich, raven waterfall, then lightly billowing in the wind like a soft billowy Wind Billower. Her stomach tightened up and her breasts stuck out like two large, but not too large mounds of fleshy softness – but not too soft. And her legs looked like two strong, sinewy pneumatic pumps used to hold up some sort of statue of a beautiful godess. Dirk couldn’t help to stare at her as she seemed to raise off the ground a few inches and spin around. Birds fluttered past and dropped floweres in her hair as her whole skin took on a radiant, healthy glow.

Ethyl looked at her hands in disbelief and then held her face. “Oh my…”

“Ethyl, you’re beautiful,” her sister was barely able to gasp.

“Wowee wow wow!” Dirk gasped a little too loudly.

“Oh, thank you so much, kind and brave adventurer!” Ethyl squealed. “You have saved me from a fate worse than death – A fate of being ugly and unwanted for the rest of my life.”

“Well, I really,” Dirk managed to mumbled as Ethyl threw her alluring arms around him.

“And now to thank you,” she added seductively as her soft, pouty lips drew towards his.

“Uh…” Dirk added before she pressed her lips into his, locking into a long, beautiful kiss. Dirk felt his heart lift high as her chest pressed hard into his. Truly this felt like Love’s First Kiss.

“Huh,” Beautiful Ethyl said as she pulled back.

“What?” Dirk asked, a little confused.

“Well, that was nice,” she said. “But I really think I can do better.”

“Whu-what?” Dirk stammered.

Beautiful Ethyl turned and raced back towards the village. “Thanks for your help!” she called back over her shoulder. “I won’t forget you. Mmm bye!”

“That Ethyl,” Ploothka smiled and shook her head. “Always the flirt.”

“Whu what?” Dirk managed to stammer again before his composure, thoughts, and body all finally caught up to each other. “Well, do I at least get Experience for this?”

“Come on you two!” the rock urged. “We have to get through the swamp and fast!”

95

As the group ran off towards the murky, dreaded Swamp of No Return the platypus came limping and puffing along calling: “Wait up you guys! I only have three legs.”

But Dirk and company did not hear.

Finally they came to the swamp. A sign at the side of the road read: “No Returns”

96

The swamp looked truly dismal. Crudely painted signs proclaimed “all sales final” and “all merchandise sold as is”. Heaps of rusted appliances abandoned there rose out of the stagnant waters, and a nearly-collapsed and clearly long-empty shack bore the title “customer service”. Before them lay a path winding through the gloom until it passed out of sight. The path itself looked solid and passable enough, but the tire spikes lining it would make backtracking even a few yards exceedingly painful and difficult.

97

Dirk, after looking around helplessly for a few moments, stumbled up to the Customer Service Shack and tried to ring the dusty and rusted bell sitting on the desk, but all he got for his troubles was a billowing cloud of dust which emanated from the dilapidated bell. As Dirk (and his gang of misfits) endured several seconds of fitful coughing, the top of the door swung inward and dessicated zombie lurched forward.

“Hmmph mimmpfh yie hempf ew!” said the zombie. It then grabbed its jaw and gave it a firm upward shove until it snapped in place with a sickening click.

“Sorry about that, the ol’ jaw just ain’t what she used to be”, said the zombie. “Anyhoo, how may I help you?”

98

“Well, my companions and I seek passage through the Swamp of No Return to the dreaded Castle Igthorn which lays beyond,” Dirk replied, warily looking at zombie customer service agent.

“Ah well, I see,” the zombie wiggled his jaw once more until he was satisfied with its position. “Tis a treacherous journey indeed. Nary a man has made the journey and lived to tell the tale.”

The zombie shifted and Dirk jumped back a bit. “You – You’re not trying to eat my brains.”

“I’m rather full of them right now,” the zombie explained. “I surely couldn’t eat another bite. I can send you on your journey for the right price, however. I must warn you, the price I charge may be steep, but the price of the journey itself may be steeper!”

“Well, how much do you charge?” Ploothka bossily elbowed her way into the conversation.

“One carrot,” the zombie grunted.

“Pay the man,” Ploothka elbowed Dirk who shrugged and pulled a carrot out of his bag and handed it to the walking undead.

The zombie took the carrot, carefully sniffed it with the rotting cartilidge remnants of his nose. “Is this cottage cheese I smell?”

“No,” said Dirk.

“Yes,” said Ploothka.

“Er yes,” said Dirk. “I guess so.”

“Well no matter.” the lich reached into the shack and pulled out a small amphibian. “This creature is from the land of Bellowyick and shall lead you through the safest path through the swamp.”

“Wait, does this mean we have to—”

“Yes,” nodded the zombie. “You must follow the Bellowyick Toad.”

99

When Dirk regained consciousness, Ploothka was standing over him recapitulating the most boring aspects of the Hassenpoppagallootamagog story.

“Wha happen?” Dirk managed.

“You were pun stunned, your HP was temporarily reduced to zero and you fell unconscious for d8 + 2 rounds. That zombie was a level 12 Farcemancer.”

“Fartmaster!?”

“No, no. A Farce - a - mancer.”

“Where is he now?” said Dirk, sitting up and craning his neck in obvious terror.

“Don’t worry you coward. The platypus and I handled him.”

“The platypus!?” ejaculated Dirk “When did he get here?”

“Right after the zombie said ‘follow the Bellowyick Toad.’”

Dirks eyes rolled back and he fell unconscious.

“Maybe we could leave him that way.” The rock offered sardonically.

100

Dirk came to and sat up with a bolt of energy that he hadn’t shown before.

“You know,” he grinned a bit and nodded. “I’m feeling better. I think I was just exhausted from the trip, lack of sleep and all you know. I can usually handle my adventurous journeys much better than this. Much, much better.”

“Well that’s good,” Ploothka replied. “Because we have a long day ahead of us if we are to traverse this dreaded swampland.”

“This will be a dangerous journey indeed,” the talking rock agreed. The three legged platypus looked at Dirk and nodded in a sort of anthropomorphic fashion.

“Well, I am definitely ready!” said Dirk eagerly. “Definitely, definitely ready.”

“Then let us be on our way,” Ploothka gestured to the swamp.

“You know, I do have a question,” Dirk injected. “This platypus does not seem to be an ordinary platypus. In fact, platypuses aren’t even found in this area, for they are from the far, far away Land of Thieves. What is he doing here?”

“Well, this is not ordinary platypus,” Ploothka replied. “In fact, until recently he wasn’t even a platypus at all.”

“You don’t say.”

“See this all began many, many years ago during the reign of King Bedwetter. King Bedwetter’s mortal enemy, as you know, was the evil, vile, vilanous Hassenpoppagallootamagog. Hassenpoppagallootamagog, of course was named Hassenpoppagallootamagog by Bob and Jennifer Dinklestag of the Upper Malvorian Dinklestags. Now, Hassenpoppagallootamagog grew more and more evil as the years wore on all because of…”