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ExamForce :: Article Archive :: Newsletter Article
 The Cert Times: IT Edition Article Archive
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| The Play's the Thing (B1N@RY N@T10N (A.J. Axline)) |
"This is all your fault," Sonja told me for the thirty-seventh time.
"I'm not certain that I agree with your assessment of the situation," I mumbled.
"So, where are we again?" Vector asked.
Robert the Bruce adjusted his DM screen and cleared his throat ominously. "The three of you are drifting through a void, a realm of pure nothingness."
"Just checking," Vector said, rattling dice in his hand and glaring at me.
"This is all your fault," Sonja told me for the thirty-eighth time.
"Look," I said, "all I did was challenge a rival god while we were looting his temple, and then attempt to defile the altar dedicated to him with some of last night's chili. Now, I ask you: how could I have known that something bad would happen?"
Dark looks were exchanged.
"Oh come on!" I protested. "You're acting like I've never done this before."
"The fact that you've done this before," Sonja said, "and are fully cognizant of the type and severity of consequences commonly associated with such an act, only adds to your transgression."
"You're lecturing," I replied. "I don't think you can lecture. Show me the Lecture skill on your character sheet. Or, barring that, a Harangue feat."
"Aren't I immune to void?" Vector muttered, leafing through his character sheet for a solution to our predicament.
"While I recognize that your question was mostly facetious, I will still respond to it," Robert the Bruce said gleefully. "No. No, you are not. Not in the least."
"This is all your f--"
"All right, we've established blame," I cut in. "Let's try to think of a way out of here."
Time passed.
"Time passes," Robert the Bruce intoned. "Hours turns into days. Days turn into weeks. Soon, time begins to lose meaning for you."
"Hey, just like college," I observed.
"How many times have I gone to the bathroom since we arrived here?" Vector asked suddenly.
There was a large, blinking pause.
"What?" Sonja and I said.
"I want to know how many times I've urinated and defecated since arriving in the void," Vector said.
"Why?" Sonja and Robert the Bruce and I asked.
"Because, I want you to describe what each elimination event is like," Vector told Robert.
"Why?" the three of us, and several people in an adjacent building asked.
"Because I'm bored," Vector said sweetly.
My eyes narrowed slightly. It was an interesting gambit on Vector's part. Robert the Bruce would either have to speed up our escape from the void prison, or would have to describe various acts of excretion in sordid detail.
Robert the Bruce cleared his throat. "Well, the first time is... it's pretty standard, in so much as..."
Vector blinked innocently, pencil poised over a fresh sheet of paper.
Robert the Bruce sighed. "Everyone roll percentiles."
Ah, the dice ex machina, I thought. Vector's crude tactic had worked.
Three hours, five containers of Chinese food, four liters of diet cola, and a pan of frosted brownies later...
"Okay, so I'm now undead, Vector is a three-foot-tall pile of sentient goo, and Sonja is a bearded lady," I summarized wearily.
"No, you're pretty certain that, under all of that ice, Sonja is now a man," Robert the Bruce clarified.
"This is all your fault," Sonja told Vector for the sixth time.
"Your voice should be deeper," Vector growled. "And, given your current position, inaudible."
"I told you not to take the gem out of the statue's forehead," Sonja said angrily. "Everyone heard me tell you that."
"Even now, through five feet of solid ice, you swear that you can hear her voice whispering, 'Don't take the gem out of the statue's forehead,' Robert the Bruce stage whispered.
"You're NOT helping," I told him.
"No. No, I'm not," Robert the Bruce replied. And he began to cackle.
Four hours, four lattes, three bags of potato chips later...
"Hey, I'm no longer undead!" I announced.
"And, I'm no longer a sentient pile of goo!" Vector announced.
"And, I'm no longer a man encased in ice," Sonja said.
"Can she actually talk while she's in the form of a baby okapi?" Vector asked.
"No," Robert the Bruce said after some thought. "No, she certainly can't."
"Too bad," Vector said, shaking his head sadly. "We could sell a talking baby okapi for a freaking FORTUNE back home."
"This is all your fault," I told Sonja for the first time.
"Somebody order pizza," Sonja said ominously.
A.J. Axline posts rude thoughts and such at www.chaos-jester.ca, and rarely makes a poison save.
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Posted by
nam on 26/06/2008 10:15 |
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