mikeward2534

Is that like how the Food Machinery Corporation made these?
 

Is this someone's strategy for getting good quotes? Post horrible puns until I come up with some quotes to break the chain?
 
More excerpts from the Shadowrun game. As previously stated, the runners are an ork/troll group. Completely against stereotype, they specialize in stealth, subtlety, bluff, illusion, deception and misdirection.
  Dent: ork, rat shaman No-Step: ork, snake shaman, healer Byte Force: ork, decker, chemist Eye Spy: ork, rigger, drones, paramedic Audacity Jane: ork, combat, stealth, security systems Happy Jack (aliases include Jonathan Bridges): troll, combat, disguise, negotiator Mr. Johnson: generic name used by/for secretive employers who hire shadowrunners     When Happy Jack meets with clients, he usually goes as one of his alternate identities: the distinguished Jonathan Bridges.   Mr. Johnson: "Thank you for meeting with me mister ..." Jonathan Bridges: "It's my pleasure to be here, Mr. Johnson. I'm Mr. Bridges." Mr. Johnson: "Mr. Bridges ... as in ..." Jonathan Bridges: "If you're about to make some comment regarding bridges and trolls, I've heard it before."     The shadowrunners discuss how they're spending their latest windfall...   Audacity Jane: "I can't believe you just spent 10,000 nuyen on a suit. What a waste of money." Happy Jack: "It's a high fashion suit with an armor lining. It's what the top executives wear." Audacity Jane: "So what? It's not like you're going to sneak into a building dressed like a troll CEO on our runs. You're still going in dressed as a janitor or a maintenance man like usual."   A few weeks later, while Jonathan Bridges (aka Happy Jack) was negotiating with a different Mr. Johnson...   Mr. Johnson: "And I'm prepared to pay each member of your team 6,000 nuyen." Jonathan Bridges: "6,000 nuyen? My suit costs more than that." Mr. Johnson: "..."   Unsurprisingly, the pay got negotiated above 10,000 nuyen apiece.
 
 
Discussing equipment on hand...
 
Eye Spy: "Do you have any anti-vehicular grenades?" Happy Jack: "Sure." (tosses a grenade to Eye Spy) Eye Spy: "This is a paint grenade." Happy Jack: "It's hard to drive or shoot when your windshield is covered with paint."   This led to the following conversation a few weeks later...   Byte Force: "What chemicals can I cook up for you today?" Happy Jack: "Paint for grenades. I'd like something that works a bit better than what we already have." Byte Force: "What are you looking to change?" Happy Jack: "Could you mess with the viscosity and surface tension? I'd like it to stick better to vehicle  windshields. And if they run windshield wipers, I'd like that to just smear the paint around without clearing it off." Byte Force: "Okay. That might be possible..." Happy Jack: "And could you include something that has a bit of an exothermic reaction? It doesn't need to be too strong. Just push the temperature of the paint over body temperature so it blocks infrared and thermographic vision." Byte Force: "Heh. That still won't help you much if the vehicle has radar." Happy Jack: "I was just getting to that. Could you mix in tiny particles of metal in order to scatter radar beams?" Byte Force: "****! Do you want the paint to yodel too, so it blocks sonar?" (long pause) Happy Jack: "That's a good idea ... but that might be a bit too much to expect from paint."     Needing no explanation...   Audacity Jane: "Of course dragons are at the top of the food chain. I can't eat that much."

This conversation is anything but wooden.
 
I beleaf there are too many punsters on the boards and they are all barking up the wrong tree. (quadruple-pun FTW! whoot!)

Drhoz's Shadowrun stories have reminded me of an old Shadowrun campaign.
 
The runners are an ork/troll group. Completely against stereotype, they specialize in stealth, subtlety, bluff, illusion, deception and misdirection.
 
Dent: ork, rat shaman
No-Step: ork, snake shaman, healer
Byte Force: ork, decker, chemist
Eye Spy: ork, rigger, drones, paramedic
Audacity Jane: ork, combat, stealth, security systems
Happy Jack: troll, combat, disguise, negotiator
 
The runners all live in the Ork Underground.
 
GM: You could live in different neighborhoods.
Happy Jack: We live in a neighborhood where 80% of our enemies stick out like a sore thumb, and we look like everybody else.
 
I have no idea how many of the GM's adventure ideas we screwed up by living in that neighborhood.
 
But in this episode, the GM decided to run with the Ork Underground idea. Alamos 20,000 somehow managed to steal some cyberhounds and reprogram them. True to form, they released them at an entrance to the Ork Underground and sent them in to slaughter anyone they found. Coincidentally, the cyberhounds entered the Ork Underground near the PCs location. The dogs didn't last long.
 
Dent: "Hey, real meat is on the menu tonight!"
 
Audacity Jane: (to Happy Jack) "Why did you insist on subduing the last one?"
Happy Jack: "So Byte Force can reprogram it and have a guard dog."
Byte Force: "I can't afford to feed a dog. They eat meat."
Happy Jack: "Meat? What are you talking about? Dogs eat kibble, just like people do."
 
After stripping the cyberware out of the dead cyberhounds...
 
Happy Jack: "Let's make friends with our neighbors. I'm going to pay one of the restaurants to chop it up and cook it for us. Then we can we have a neighborhood party."
 
The neighbors turn out in droves for free meat. Enterprising restaurants and store owners start selling nutrisoy side orders to go along with meat. It turns into an impromptu street festival.
 
..And then the corporate security team walks into the Underground and up to the festival...
 
Security Captain: "We've tracked our stolen property to this area. We want it returned."
Byte Force: "Have some barbecue."
Security Captain: "We're not interested in food. We're interested in our missing property."
Byte Force: "Then have some barbecue."
Happy Jack: (interrupting) "Captain, would your property happen to be four dogs?"
Security Captain: "You have seen our property."
Happy Jack: "So your property ran in and killed three of our neighbors?"
Large crowd of orks and trolls: "..."
Security Captain: "Um..." (pause) "Our property was stolen. We had no control over that. What happened to the dogs after that?"
Happy Jack: (grins) "They ran into me."
 
While the Security Captain was distracted, No-Step walked up behind him and yanked some hair out of his head.
 
Security Captain: "Hey!" (aiming weapons at No-Step)
Audacity Jane: "Captain, if any of you touch that skinny shaman, every man, woman and child here will kill you."
(long pause, as everyone freezes)
Audacity Jane: "Of course ... if you attack the troll, we're just going to sit back and laugh."
Security Guard #1: (to Happy Jack) "The orks don't seem to like you much, troll."
Eye Spy: "We like the troll just fine. We won't miss you lot, though."
Security Guard #2: "He's not even armed, and we have..."
...SHHKKKKKKKKKKT...
(Happy Jack had pulled a blade out of his jacket and yanked open the telescoping handle, turning it into a polearm.)
Audacity Jane: "You have SMGs. He's bulletproof. His polearm has Dikote, so it's going to cut through your armor like butter."
Security Captain: (trying to regain control of the situation) "We're not here for a fight. We're just here to retrieve our property."
Happy Jack: "Have some barbecue. Take it back to your corporation. Run some DNA tests on it. That's as much of your property as you can salvage."
(pause as the security team realizes what happened to the cyberhounds)
Security Captain: "What about the cyberware? You didn't eat that. We'd like it back."
Happy Jack: "Go talk to your corporate medics and wage mages. If they can find a way to bring our neighbors back from the dead, we'll see about getting your cyberware back."
Security Captain: "The people who stole the dogs are responsible for the deaths."
Happy Jack: "If we learn anything about the thieves, we'll be happy to pass the information on to you. But your negligence contributed to the situation."
(the security team turns to leave)
Happy Jack: "Captain, your corporation managed to generate a fair amount of ill-will through today's events. Let your bosses know that we would consider it a gesture of goodwill if they set aside an appropriate amount of money for the bereaved families."
Security Captain: "I'll mention it, but I can't guarantee anything."
No-Step: (holding up the strands of the captain's hair) "Persuade them, Captain."
 
After the security team leaves...
 
Dent: "How did they track the dogs to this spot? Tracer chips in the dogs' cyberware?"
Happy Jack: "And that's why we always throw stuff into farraday cages."

I remember this part of the adventure. We actually figured out how to fulfill the letter of our agreement not to touch anything in the office, but still get our hands on the credstick...
 
I don't recall the exactly how the discussion went, but it went something like this (after we were safely away):
 
"Morlock told us that we can't touch the stuff in the office. He didn't say anything about what we do to stuff outside the building. We wait until the chief editor takes the credstick out of the building, then we grab it from him. I can figure out a few possible scenarios. We just need to be able to cover those possibilities, and we're good."
 
"We know credsticks aren't for normal, legitimate business. They'd just run those through their normal accounts. It's either secret or dirty. If it's dirty, they don't want to be caught with it. If it's secret, they don't want to be asked about it. If this was a megacorp, nobody would think twice. They always keep millions in dirty or secret nuyen around. But this is a little publisher. Maybe the company is fronting for somebody. Maybe the editor is. Maybe the company or the editor is into something illegal and is hiding the money here. For the most part, it doesn't matter."
 
"If this is the chief editor's illegal stash, then he needs to move it before the company starts investigating thoroughly, and he'll have to do it himself to avoid arousing suspicion. Even if it's the company's money, he may claim that we stole it, then pocket it himself. That still means he has to move it himself."
 
"If the chief editor is just a loyal front man for something secretive or dirty, then he still has to move it. That safe just isn't secure, and he knows it. Even if there's another safe in the building, he can't use that either. It was in the chief editor's safe, because that ensures that he's the only one who can access it. If they put it anywhere else in that building, some other employee will be able to access it too. We made it clean enough that they have to wonder whether we had someone inside. If so, moving it to another spot in the same building could hand it to the inside man. They've got to move it to somewhere secure outside the building."
 
"Given what that program did inside of their system, they're going to get investigated. Big time. So they have to move it subtly. Maybe the chief editor moves it himself. Maybe he gets a bodyguard to accompany him. Maybe he uses a high-end bonded courier. If he gets much beyond that, he's going to attract attention. It's going to stay small. No armored vehicles. No squads of company men. No helicopters. It will be something that won't stand out too much in this environment."
 
"And we can make sure that they're under scrutiny. Once they've had time to discover the problem, we'll anonymously tip off a couple young and hungry reporters. They can hang around, asking questions, taking pictures, being nosy. With reporters around, they can't bring in big guns."
 
"After that, we just watch to see who comes in and compare the visitors to employees and clients. If a new face shows up before the chief editor leaves the building, that's the courier or bodyguard."
 
"So we need a plan to hit a moving vehicle. We're taking the vehicle and one or two occupants. We use disguises because we may be recorded by the reporters. We'll need enough diversion to cover our escape. That's the mission. Let's get some eyes on the publisher and come up with a real plan."
 
The conversation was done in front of the GM, and there was some metagaming that went into what was said. Either the GM could take the mini-adventure we had just handed him and run with it, or he could come up with some transparent, genre-breaking way to keep the money out of our hands.

Stray quote from the con a couple weeks ago, by a female player in character for a female character: "I am not naked. I have a rifle."

The GMC FP-45 Liberator is a single-shot small frame pistol chambered for .45 ACP. It was created in 1942 by the US Army Joint Psychological Committee and produced by General Motors. It was cheaply constructed and only holds one round, however, the US Army never actually intended to give this pistol to front line troops, but rather friendly fighters in enemy territory. The idea was to do a mass dropping of these pistols so the fighters could find one then sneak up on an enemy soldier, ambush him and then take his weapons. Needless to say, it didn’t work that well. Some historians say it was successful in intimidating enemy troops.
 
Yes, you read that right. GMC made a pistol.

Clown Commander, announcing his evil plan.
 "I want all the soap in New York City delivered to Central Park by 3 PM, or the city will suffer a bubble bath like it has never seen. What do you think of that, Mr. Mayor?"

Mayor (Tied up and gagged): Mfft! !#$#@!!!!!
  "Mr. Pibbles, use the agonizer...AGGGGGH! ACK! AAAGGH!....pant...wheeze...
not...on...me."   -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   Sun Soldier: Attention, humans! Your confectionary weaponry and carbonated weapons are no match for the science of the Kwa'luur. Lay down your pogo sticks and surrender and you will not be harmed!   -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   Gideon's Player: Can I be seen inside the Banana?   --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------    Gideon's Player: I get on the pogo stick, leap up, and shoot the balloon man.   GM: You pop the balloon man, and inside is a monkey operating it with some sort of contraption.   Sun Soldier: I should have known the apes were behind this.   Monkey: Awk awk...        

What's your user name over there? I've been browsing some of Paper Craft pictures for inspiration for my Space Hulk HERO concept I've been thinking of.
 
BACK ON TOPIC:
 
Last Thursday Morning our weekly DnD group got together for Pathfinder. We were in the middle of combat when the GM's wife tried to play basketball with a d20 and a dice tower and over shot the dice tower and sunk her d20 in her coffee cup. Me, my wife and the GM all cried out "Sploosh!" at the same time and I added in "Three Points!"
 
Our airship had touched down to make repairs after some goblins had planted Sonic Bombs on our hull, and several of our crew members went missing. So we went looking for them. The GM has some of Adamant Entertainments Fell Beasts books and decided to throw us up against some of the creatures within. First were the Puppet Spiders (spiders that lair inside a corpse and control it by tugging on its webbing which is connected to the corpse's muscles). My artificer made judicious use of his flame thrower with the battle cry of "Eat Flaming-Hot Death you Eight-Legged Freaks!"
 
Later we encountered a Mercy Flower ("carnivorous" plant that has a Lotus Blossum like effect on creatures it grabs with its vines). Our Fighter and myself were grappled and I had managed to shrug off it's effect. "Get out of my head, Charles!" Our fighter was not so lucky. My wife (the Ranger Archer) had a +1 Flaming Composite Longbow and was whittling it down that way. Then I whipped out my Tesla Cannon and not only managed to burn out the vines entangling myself and our fighter, but knocked it down enough that my wife managed to plink it to death.
 
My wife to me: "Why am I always having to save your a$$?"
 
Me: "Because you like having my a$$ around and if I lost it you would mourn the loss of said a$$?"

Shadowrun - Where Purrdence was hanging around and the Smut Field Intensity correspondingly high. Amazingly, since Inkubus was mostly absent this session, it appears the elf libertine is actually a Smut Sink.

Felix: Labrat! I have a gift for you!
Greenlight: It's a monkey! It has electrodes in its feet.
Felix: There's a Smartphone app that comes with it.
Greenlight: It's called 'Dance, Monkey, Dance!'

It's actually a stealth drone, which may be very useful in a hunt for a serial killer dragon. So will the cunningly modified garbage truck that Labrat has been working on - it looks ordinary and unimportant, but it's filled to the brim with armour, sensors, luxury amenities, and weapons.

Labrat: One problem - the base vehicle is the least cool vehicle on the streets.
Felix: Inkubus' Kryptonite

Felix: I'm not sure how Inkubus is going to deal with a possessed serial killer dragon - and I'm not sure I want to know.

Inkubus: I still think it's a bad idea to let any dragons know we're taking money to kill dragons. Even if it's a dragon that's paying for the hit.
Felix: It certainly sets a bad precedent.

This should all be arranged through our fixer

Felix: 'Contact Miss Kitty -
Greenlight: '...and ask about our Godzilla Special'

We receive directions to the meet with the client.

Greenlight: Copy. Sorry. Warhammer is rubbing off- *splutters* I'll see you there!

The Feathered Serpent Aleesh is annoyed that we nicknamed the target Godzilla.

Aleesh: You need to learn more dragonlore, human. The killer is a lesser dracoform
Felix: It's occasionally useful to pretend to have less knowledge of a subject then we really do, especially when negotiating contracts.
Greenlight: You must be a world class actor, Warhammer.

GM: You scramble into the limo
Greenlight's player: This module is making unwarranted assumptions about Shadowrunners. Is there money in there or something?
Warhammer: There's money in there? *pushes his way past and in*

Greenlight: I've never eaten hamburgers in a limo before.
Aleesh: I enjoy the common things in life.
Felix: You'll get on fine with some of this team then.
Warhammer: Because we're so... common... to. find.
Felix: ..... just enjoy your burger.

Aleesh: I am the ancient Feathered Serpent Aleesh
Warhammer: Hi Aleesh. I'm a dwarf. I shoot people.
Labrat: I could say something now but I won't because you're a Feathered Serpent.
Felix: And we're in enough trouble with dragons as it is.
Labrat: Speak for yourself.
Greenlight: I think I should have handled these negotiations alone.
Warhammer: Would have saved time.

As it happens, Aleesh already knows who we are, our involvement in the situation with the Penguin and the evil statue, and is placing the blame squarely on us. We're not being given a choice in the matter - either we help her attack the possessed Dragon Geyswain in his lair or she'll slap a geas on us and we'll do it anyway.

Greenlight: We're going to case the area for a few hours then attack our target Gayschlong.

At least we'll be paid well. And double if we can take Geyswain alive.

Felix: But she didn't say it was necessary - and I don't need the money THAT badly.
Warhammer: Hey! I like money!
Felix: Dragon legs regenerate, right?

At least our target isn't a GREAT dragon. And Aleesh has hired one Jake 'Cheating Cheater' Armitage as further support. Apparently Armitage already has quite the reputation.

Greenlight: Gentlemen, we have just purchased tickets to the best show ever.

The inadvertent innuendo of Armitage's hacking into Geyswain' lair gives us much amusement.

Felix: .... So you're going to penetrate the secret cave of the dragon Gayschlong.
Labrat: Which is apparently squeaky clean.
Warhammer: And wide open.
GM: Armitage sits there, fingering his deck, whistling and occasionally grunting
ALL: LOL.
GM: *headdesk*

We infiltrate Geyswain's office building - it would appear he's already started killing his staff - the same real estate agents that are already turning up dead. SOMETHING has been ageing them decades anyway. Although the bullet-riddled corpse of one is a mystery. Why would his staff turn on each other? Especially if one of them was apparently already dead when he was shot? Are there actual zombies in 2050? Titus stomps their heads in, just in case.

Aleesh: I need to be alone to prepare for my confrontation with Geyswain.
Felix: Ah - those arseless chaps take some getting into.

Greenlight: We're bait.
Felix: So, basically - Aleesh is hoping Geyswain takes so long using us as cocksleeves that she can take him down herself. Joy.

There are dead employees stuffed into every fourth locker.

Greenlight: Meticulous dragon, isn't he?
Felix: That would help in the real estate business - attention to detail.

The seminar room has a whiteboard. And Zombies.

Felix: Does the board have 'How I Did It' signed Geyswain written on it?
Labrat: 'Why I'm So Great'
Felix: 'All Work And No Murder Makes Geyswain A Dull Dragon'

The possessed dragon is in his basement suite amusing himself with a pile of corpses and other flesh toys. We don't stroll in.

Warhammer: We're not completely stupid.
Felix: 'We're just passing through. And walking off with the statue that's the source of all your evil power. Don't mind us'

One of the flesh toys is that elf from the junkyard. He's also still alive, and gasps that the statue was stolen from the Elven Nation. Then Gayschlong attacks.

Titus: You know, I've almost forgotten what his actual name is.

We're also fortunate that it makes a frontal assault, rather than cripple us with area-effect magics first. All the automatic weaponry and miniguns we're carrying might actually take it down. It gets Greenlight's stun baton in the uvula, but amazingly, Felix's first Stunbolt spell takes the dragon down.

Inkubus: 'I'm going to think very bad thoughts at you - Red wine with chicken! Red wine with chicken!'

Greenlight: Bubbles is kicking ass!

Aleesh arrives in her natural form.

Felix: So now we're between two dragons. Joy.
Titus: We're cool!
Warhammer: We got this!
Aleesh: *swats the other dragon hard*
Warhammer: Hey!
Felix: Kill-steal!

Aleesh destroys the bottled daemon, despite apparent ill grace at our success, throws the empty statue at Felix who recoils in horror, and orders us to leave.

Aleesh: Leave. I must talk with the youngling.
Greenlight: Advise him on stun-batons. They're fun.
Warhammer: And not chew toys.

We stroll out invisible, and jiggle the unconscious elf in front of the Lone Star cops that have shown up.

Felix: Dance, Monkey, Dance!

Leaving the cops to fume about the elf's Diplomatic Immunity, we steal a cop car and make our serene departure. True, the elf contacts us a few days later and offers to pay for the statue. but we left it behind.

Felix: We can rest happy imagining his negotiations with Lone Star to get the statue out of the evidence locker.

Plus, if he wants it THAT bad he can always pay us to steal it for him.

Playing the Pathfinder card game.  My wife, playing the rogue character, has acquired two avian allies during gameplay.
 
"A rogue with two crows?  You're under arrest for attempted murder."

Would that be XXX-Wing?

Curse this thread, there goes a ton of my free time. Just discovered it earlier today and already read up to number 333. Loving it so far. Thanks for the post about it xD

Nice... that sounds like somethng my PF GM might pull 'cos he's sneaky like that as well.

I remember the very first time a new player joined our group of experienced D&D'ers. One of them had told him something about trapped candles that shoot magic fire at whoever passes in front of them.
So, during the adventure, I (GM) am describing a narrow hallway, completely oblivious to the conversation mentioned above, and tell them that there are a pair of red candles.
Immediately, our new player goes: "I know this! Those are those dangerous candles, aren't they?" He proceeds to cut them to pieces and grins at me in triumph over his cleverness.
Me: " Ok. You're now standing in the dark."
 
Ever since that day, I always made sure there was at least 1 room in the enemy stronghold that had candles 

I worked up this little sheet to help people just starting to play.  Its based on a Savage Worlds sheet someone did and I got handed when I learned that system and it was useful.  Just a quick reference for some options in combat and combat maneuvers.  I tried to strip it down to the simplest language, leaving details to the GM to handle.
Hero Combat Sheet.pdf

Joanna wants to use the combat ability Double-team, but needs somebody else with the ability first.

Jrska OoC: leers I've got Double-team.
Cassius OoC: facepalm Given Jrska's recent mutation ... you may as well rename it Spitroast.

Joanna seems to be leaning towards Slaanesh worship despite her best efforts. With any luck she'll no longer be a Sister of Battle, but can be rechristened a Sister of Pain.

Jrska: Who could resist when I'm around as such a good example? No-one can resist the beastwoman's butt. Poses

Cassius has also realised he can share his power with his minions.

GM: You'll still need to mark them with profane symbols.
Joanna: I'll let Cassius brand me.
Jrska: Aw, you won't let ME brand you.
Joanna: I never said that...

Jrska: I'm going to have so much fun with Joanna.
Cassius: You do realise I'll be branding her with Tzeentchian runes, right?
Jrska: Eh, I'll balance it with a nice Slaanesh symbol on her other buttock.

Cassius' player (to GM): I been watching – you've been stroking your goatee all day
Joanna's player: 'What shall I do to the PCs now?'
Jrska's player: He needs a white cat
GM: Now I'll all self-conscious!
Cassius' player: My work here is done.

Anyway – Cassius and Joanna are setting up a ritual that require the mutual murder of the Imperial and Severian commanders, while the rest of the warband are off to capture the aforementioned individuals. In fact, we just drove off an Imperial Stormtrooper attack on the Severian HQ.

Aladar, still insubstantial, hurries off after the retreating stormtroopers. He still has officers to immolate, after all. Cog, of course, is still lying shot and bleeding back at the door trying to weld his ribs back into place.

Jrska: That's why I left him to it. He needs to learn to appreciate the agony.

The Severian general is wearing a big white fur coat.

Jrska: Mmmm, I'll have that.

Jrska and her Kingfisher Girls, all wearing looted Severian uniforms, take refuge in audacity and stroll right into rebel HQ like they belong there.

Jrska: The body language screams 'Officer!' while the actual facts say Mutant.
Cassius: And by the time they sort out the cognitive dissonance -
Jrska: I'll be right in the middle of them

She marches up to the Severian commander, and unhooks a Web grenade from her bandolier.

Jrska: Reinforcements from home, sir. I was told to give you this.

Jrska does her very best Arnold Rimmer salute, but the Severian general recoils just in time to avoid the worst of exploding web grenade. Rapidly hardening fluid sprays in all directions.

GM: There's something I could say here, but I won't.
Jrska: Well, that was premature.
Cassius' Player: Did I ever tell you about my Bukkake Missile character? (A Monk/Psion with Entangling Ectoplasm.)

True, Jrska gets caught in the entangling blast too, but she DID manage to get within arm’s length of the Severian general, and they're now bound face to face.

Jrska: Hi there. Is that a plasma pistol in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?
General: Get away from me, beast!
Jrska: fondles the general
General: Get off me!
Jrska: He doesn't know me very well, does he?
Cassius OoC: What's that condition that scrambles the order of words you hear? And he just said 'Get Off Me'

A pack of Severian troops attack Jrska as she frees herself of the goop. She giggles as one actually manages to hurt her.

Jrska: Oh you cute boy! A dozen warriors can stain their weapons in me without harm.

Back at the ritual room, somebody lobs a few grenades into the ritual room. Rather than ruin the preparation, Daemon Prince Cassius flings himself over the explosives. After all, he's a daemon now.

Jrska OoC: With any luck they aren't holy hand grenades.

True, this is probably evidence that Cassius hasn’t got the hang of being a Lord of Chaos yet – a true devotee of the Ruinous Powers would have thrown one of his minions over the grenade.

Joanna: Imperials? Those guys are so dead.
GM: Maybe.
Joanna: Are they wearing red shirts?
GM: Actually.. checks the Regiment picture Yes. Sigh

GM: I just thought – can you hear your own voice over mindlink?
Cassius: Is that what I sound like? Oh gods, why did nobody tell me? Is that my ass? Why did nobody tell me!

Joanna kills the Imperial sergeant before Cassius can psychically devour his mind, and he radiates his displeasure.

Jrska: Don't worry, my lord, I'll chastise her later – I've been saving that porcupine-skin condom for a special occasion.

The Imperials are reconsidering the wisdom of attacking a Daemon Prince.

Troops: Run away! Run away!

Cassius eats the brain of the sergeant Joanna killed – not ideal, but still useful given his lingering Space Marine talents - and radios his commander, mimics the sergeant's voice, and get gets a tactical sitrep. Including the whereabouts of the Imperial Commander. He sends Joanna off to assist Jrska’s efforts. Our Daemon Engine Stormfarrow sulks.

Joanna arrives at the Severian HQ and starts lobbing frag and stun grenades into the swirling melee of blinded, insane, stunned and raving Severians, Kingfisher Girls, and PCs. Aladar disarms the blinded General.

Aladar: Anybody got any sedatives?
Jrska: Cog does.
Joanna: I thought you would.
Jrska: I tend to go for stimulants

We cart the Severian general and a few of the more amusing survivors back to Cassius, who mind-probes the general for communication codes. Then Jrska informs the Severian troops that the general has been kidnapped by Imperials dressed as Severians, and where in the starfort he's being taken. Since this includes the equally confused Imperials, the results should be glorious chaos as everybody converges and start fighting each other and themselves.

Of course, we still need to capture the Imperial commander, and somehow get the two commanders to kill each other.

Cog: Don't forget to switch uniforms.
Jrska: Thanks for the reminder

We send Stormfarrow off to have fun with the Imperial fortifications, while we flank the Imperial HQ, and burn our way through the walls with Cassius' fearsome psychic power. The encampment on the other side is absolutely normal for this kind of engagement.

Jrska: Standard IKEA encampment?
Cassius: The tech-priests would like to know how you know the name of the Ancient Standard Construction Template designer.

Time to storm the pre-fab fortress!

I can't reputize This haiku of palindromes
To match its value
 
I give you my thanks.
I only wish that I had
Thought of it before.
 
Lucius Alexander
 
Well mounted I ride
My palindromedary
Even through haiku

A special one for our person who always mentions palidromes.
 
Live not on evil.
Evil, a sin, is alive.
Lived as a devil.
 
Have fun Lucious.
 
P.S. Credit to Dalibor Drekic over at palidromist.org

Re: Quote of the Week From My Life.
 
I got a text at like 3am one morning. I decided to play with it...
 
Them (via text): BOA is providing $950 payday loans wired in two hours. NO Credit Check. Claim the cash at CashIn2Hrs.com and get funded now!
Me: Boa? Is that you, man? Wow! I haven't heard from you in a long time!
Me: It must be, what, seven or eight years? How have you been, man?
Me: You're still in Virginia, huh? Some things never change, I guess!
Me: What are you doing these days? Did that Communications degree ever pay off for you?
Me: Remember how we used to tease you about that? You would get so pissed!
Me: Man, we had some times, didn't we?
Me: Whatever happened to those days?
Me: I mean, obviously I know what happened.
Me: Things just got crazy.
Me: What with the court hearings and the craziness with all those reporters, things just got weird.
Me: Am I right?
Me: (about an hour later) No response? Hey man, why so quiet?
Me: I used to have to gag you to shut you up!
Me: You're not still mad, are you?
Me: Dude, that was like eight years ago!
Me: I said I was sorry.
Me: And it's not like you don't have another sister.
Me: Sorry man. That was low.
Me: You know I loved her too, right?
Me: And everyone knows it was an accident.
Me: I was acquitted, remember?
Me: I can't believe you're still mad.
Me: (the next day) Man, I'm sorry about what I said last night.
Me: It's just that when you texted me out of the blue like that, all those memories just came flooding back.
Me: And I won't lie, I was drinking.
Me: I know I promised to stop after that night, but it's hard.
Me: I still live with the memories.
Me: Not a day goes by that I don't think about her.
Me: I miss her, you know?
Me: I want her back.
Me: But she's not coming back, is she?
Me: (a week later) Dude, it's been a week since you texted me.
Me: What the f**k?
Me: You don't have the common courtesy to text back even once?
Me: Dude. You started this, not me.
Me: And now you're just going to go dark like this?
Me: How about a simple admission that this was just a mistake?
Me: Don't I even deserve that?
Me: Jesus, you're an a**hole.
Me: You know why she loved me more than you was because of cowardly s**t like this.
Me: Yeah, i said it. And I meant it. She loved me more than you.
Me: And you can go choke on it for all I care.
 
Stay tuned for the continuing saga. And thank god for unlimited texting!

When discussing a former co-worker with my boss.
 
Me: "When he doesn't bother to call or show up for a week, it means he quit. If he doesn't understand that then he's a moron. Even if he is your nephew."
 
Boss Laughs. "I know he is but you should be nice!"
 
Me: "He doesn't work here anymore, so I don't have to."
 
Boss laughs even harder.
 
I should point out that any boss who laughs her butt off and agrees when you call her nephew a moron is a good person to work for. Especially when you are me.

(Scene: I'm on break at work. A co-worker enters.)
 
Scott: The problem with this coffee is that there's not enough whiskey in it.
Me: The suggestion box is over there. *points*
Scott: That is simultaneously the best and worst idea we've ever had.

Me: "Whoever designed Markharth (city in Skyrim) must have loved stairs. This city is such a pain in @$$ to navigate. I think he needs to be thrown down a few flights (of stairs) if he loves them so much."
 
My wife and my friend simultaneously: "I'll Help!"

Shadow Hawk: Ensign Newpilot flunked his flight safety quiz.
CDR Oldpilot: How did he manage it.
Shadow Hawk: The safe altitude over downtown San Diego is NOT three feet, Commander.
CDR Oldpilot: Oh good lord.
Non Aircrew PO: Sir, if you're flying three feet over downtown, do you have to obey traffic signals?
CDR Olfpilot: Shutup, Petty Officer.

For those who don't remember, I work on a Navy base.
 
Pilot trainee: Do you have any paper for the printer?
Me: The printer with the big sign on it?
Pilot: Yes, that one.
Me: Did you happen to read the sign?
Pilot: Yes, it said "out of ink".  What does that have to do with whether or not you have any paper.
Chief Petty Officer: You graduated from the Naval Academy, right?