Razor Ripley

CHORUS 1

While you’re nice and cozy in your gingerbread house

Here comes Razor Ripley to tear your hearts out!

VERSE 1

A necromancer with no fucks to give

A dead man walking with no reason to live

Except to steal souls like shoplifting at Wal-Mart

Clean the whole town out, it’s his favorite part

Of every single day he walks the planet earth

Death is one part of life, another is rebirth

Casting his magic is what makes him feel alive

Raise an army of skeletons with minds like a hive

CHORUS 2

While you’re nice and comfy in your funeral parlor

Here comes Razor Ripley, respect the fire starter!

VERSE 2

All those empty souls waiting to go to hell

They were there all along when alive and well

The nine circles represented a decade in life

From childhood conformity to fucking a wife

To sitting in a nursing home waiting for the end

After spending many years in the backwards bend

Pushing buttons in an office meant nothing at all

Just like breaking your back to hang up dry wall

CHORUS 3

While you’re snuggling up on Satan’s warm lap

Here comes Razor Ripley to make the devil tap!

VERSE 3

The underworld is under new management

The Promised Land is next, the new sacrament

Some call it succession, but I’ve got a confession

Corporate power structure is a fickle motherfucker

All the NDA’s and the ass-kissing lawyers

Can’t silence necromancy or the undead warriors

A dark fantasy tale of the American variety

Is the bastard child of an uncaring society

CHORUS 4

While you’re wrapped up in shackles like a Christmas blanket

Bow down to Razor Ripley, make your final statement!

While you’re wandering the world with no mind of your own

Ask Razor Ripley if he’ll animate your bones!

Juliet Birdwing

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THE BASICS

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Name: Juliet Birdwing

Nicknames: Big Bird, Mother Ruth

Gender: Cisgender Female

Age: 32

Birth Date: 468

Birth Place: Xavier Village

Currently Living In: Atwood Queendom

Species: Elf

Ethnicity / Race: Green Skin

Citizenship: Atwood Queendom and of their territories

Religion / Beliefs: Brainwashed Cultist

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FAMILY

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Father: Unknown

Age: Unknown

Relationship: Absent

Mother: Betsy Birdwing

Age: Unknown

Relationship: Abandonment

Sister: Bijou Birdwing

Age: 27

Relationship: Betrayal

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PHYSICAL FEATURES:

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Height: 5’7”

Weight: 115 lbs.

Frame / Build: Skinny

Hair length: Shoulder Blades

Hair color: Brown

Eye shape: Wide

Eye color: Purple

Complexion: Green

Face size: Heart-Shaped

Voice type: Gentle High Pitch

Foot size: Women’s 9

Tattoo: Heart with sword going through it (forearm)

Scar: Bruises on her knuckles

Other notable accessories: Nose ring

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SOCIO / ECONOMIC / POLITICAL

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Political Affiliation: Conservative

Economic Class: Upper-Middle

Social Class: Green-Collar

Occupation: Soldier

Income: Rich

Residence: Atwood Queendom and all of their territories

Transportation: Horse

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INTERESTS

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Favorite Food(s): Chocolate and funnel cake

Favorite Sport(s): Amateur Wrestling

Favorite Book(s): Romance with toxic characters

Favorite Show(s): TV isn’t a thing yet

Favorite Music: Flute

Favorite Color(s): Purple and Red

Clothing Style / Preferences: Atwood Queendom robe and hood

Hobbies: Gambling, shooting clay pigeons, playing with dolls

Role Model(s): Shelly Atwood and Torger Manson

Likes: Comfort, money, winning fights, lusting after Windham

Dislikes: Her own race, Magetan theology, poor people

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PERSONALITY

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Good Qualities / Trait(s): Good fighter, loyal, persuasive

Vices / Negative Trait(s): Backstabber to elves, reckless with money, blinded by “love”

Habits / Idiosyncrasies / Quirks: Twirling hair and inappropriate touching

Phobia / Fears: Going back to poverty, having to face Llewellyn’s wrath, permanent abandonment

Select one personality type below that best describes your character:

[X] Supporter (ESFJ) – Popular, and most sociable of all the types. Respects authority and values traditions. Has a strong desire to be liked, and therefore tends to want to serve others’ needs, sometimes at the expense of their own.

Define your character’s personality based on the following aspects:

a. Physically: Pleasant to look at (when she’s not wearing her robe)

b. Psychologically: Manipulative and cunning

c. Spiritually: Mocks Magetans whenever she has the chance

d. Emotionally: Goes from sweet to angry in seconds

e. Socially: She’s respected among her peers, feared by ordinary people

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HISTORY

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1. Describe the character’s childhood. She and her sister Bijou were abandoned by their parents and left to raise each other. But when Atwood cultists and Shelly Atwood herself started love-bombing Juliet and brainwashing her, she jumped at the opportunity to abandon Bijou for wealth and power. She’s been living well ever since while Bijou is a psychological wreck.

2. Name the good incidents that have happened in the character’s life. How has this shaped his personality? She and Bijou played with dolls often, which was what made Juliet’s betrayal all the more hurtful.

3. Name bad experiences that have happened in the character’s life. How has this shaped his personality? As I’ve said, Juliet’s parents abandoned her, so she jumped at the chance of being loved again when Shelly offered her a better life.

4. What is the character doing when first introduced? What are her goals at this point? Do these goals change at any point in the story? She’s helping Shelly shave Windham’s chin after he grows some stubble during his imprisonment. Her goal is to live as comfortably as possible while also manipulating Windham. She’s only around for one chapter, so that’s not enough time for her goals to change.

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STORY DEVELOPMENT:

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CHARACTER ARCHETYPE: (Put an X on all applicable boxes)

[X] Antagonist (Opposing View, not necessarily the Evil Bad — see also Villain)

[X] Bully (Coward)

[X] Femme Fatale (Black Widow, Flirt, Siren, Circe, Seductress, Enchantress)

[X] Gambler

[X] Hedonist (Bon Vivant, Chef, Gourmet, Gourmand, Sybarite–see also Mystic)

[X] Trickster (Puck, Provocateur)

[X] Turncoat

[X] Villain / Shadow (Big Bad of the story; see also Antagonist)

[X] Warrior (Soldier, Crime Fighter, Amazon, Mercenary, Soldier of Fortune, Gunslinger, Samurai)

1. What are the motivations for the character’s actions? Abandonment issues and a deep need for family, even if she’s just a useful idiot to them

2. What are the character’s goals / ambition / dreams? To eat as much candy and live as comfortably as she can. To that end, she’s living her dream right now.

3. What external conflicts would you wish for the character to overcome? What are the obstacles in the character’s path that might make this difficult? She wants to hold Windham down and shave him, but after he learns that she’s a Mother Ruth elf, he refuses to cooperate.

4. What inner conflicts would you wish for the character to overcome? What are the obstacles in the character’s path that might make this difficult? Constant need for Shelly and Torger’s affections, which is made difficult by the fact that they’re never satisfied.

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AUTHOR’S NOTES / MISCELLANY

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Character theme song: “Our Love Will Always Remain” by The Aquadolls

Celebrity / IRL lookalike: Daniela Ruah from NCIS: Los Angeles

Bijou Birdwing

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THE BASICS

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Name: Bijou Birdwing

Nicknames: Little Birdie

Gender: Cisgender Female

Age: 27

Birth Date: 473 AM

Birth Place: Xavier Village

Currently Living In: Drifter

Species: Elf

Ethnicity / Race: Green skin

Citizenship: Honey Valley

Religion / Beliefs: Conspiracy theorist

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FAMILY

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Father: Unknown

Age: Unknown

Relationship: Absent

Mother: Betsy Birdwing

Age: Unknown

Relationship: Abandonment

Sister: Juliet Birdwing

Age: 32

Relationship: Abandonment

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PHYSICAL FEATURES:

=========================================

Height: 5’5”

Weight: 100 lbs.

Frame / Build: Frail

Hair length: Scraggly

Hair color: Brunette

Eye shape: Milky

Eye color: Purple

Complexion: Early wrinkles

Face size: Narrow

Voice type: Screeching

Foot size: Women’s 7

Tattoo(s): None

Scar(s): Facial bruises

Any other identifying mark(s): Missing teeth

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SOCIO / ECONOMIC / POLITICAL

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Political Affiliation: Unaffiliated

Economic Class: Drifter

Social Class: Impoverished

Occupation: Drifter

Income: Whatever she begs for

Residence: None

Transportation: Feet

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INTERESTS

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Favorite Food(s): Bananas and apple sauce

Favorite Sport: Doesn’t watch sports

Favorite Book: Can’t read

Favorite Show: TV isn’t a thing yet

Favorite Music: Violin

Favorite Colors: Gray and black

Clothing Style / Preferences: Torn leather vest, dirty pants, and ripped sandals

Hobbies: Playing pool, using recreational drugs, and throwing darts

Role Model(s): The voices in her head

Likes: Sunny days and lying on the beach

Dislikes: Rainy weather and having to sleep in garbage bins

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PERSONALITY

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Good Qualities / Trait(s): Potential for creativity and storytelling skills

Vices / Negative Trait(s): Schizophrenia, universal distrust, quick anger, and addiction

Strengths: Good fighter, intimidating, and strong survival instincts

Weaknesses: Criticism, legitimate authority, submitting to head voices, abandonment trauma

Habits / Idiosyncrasies / Quirks: Shaking and head snapping

Phobia / Fears: Getting too attached only to be let down again

Loves: Independence and disrespecting authority

Hates: Llewellyn Xavier, her sister, her parents, and anybody who tries to help her

Select one personality type below that best describes your character:

Originator (ENFP) – Inventive and idea people. Love to argue to show off their skills and intelligence. Prefers the startup phase of a project where the risks and problems are greater, than turning over the lead to someone else once these are solved. Enthusiastic, idealistic, and creative. Great people skills. Excited by new ideas, but bored with details. Open-minded and flexible, and able to make others enthusiastic over their ideas and projects.

Define your character’s personality based on the following aspects:

a. Physically: Offensive appearance and poor hygiene

b. Psychologically: Psychotic and brash

c. Spiritually: Worships the voices in her head and doesn’t want to lose her “last friends left”

d. Emotionally: Quick to anger and cries easily out of frustration

e. Socially: Llewellyn pities her and wants to help while most Morgan Town citizens despise her

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HISTORY

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1. Describe the character’s childhood. Bijou spent most of her life in poverty due to her mother being locked up in Morgan Town and her sister selling out to the Atwood Queendom. The trauma and self-blame led her to developing schizophrenia and drifting from town to town without a life plan. She has a strong distrust of anybody who would dare take her “friends” away.

2. Name the good incidents that have happened in the character’s life. How has this shaped her personality? Before her sister abandoned her, they would play with dolls together and that shaped Bijou’s creative potential (which eventually went to waste).

3. Name bad experiences that have happened in the character’s life. How has this shaped her personality? Abandonment led to trauma and psychosis, which in turn led to a mass distrust of anybody getting near her. Her distrust was validated in the form of beatings from Morgan Town’s snobby citizens when she asked them for money.

4. What is the character doing when first introduced? What are her goals at this point? Do these goals change at any point in the story? Bijou reluctantly attends a Magetan sermon conducted by Llewellyn and has an episode at the end of it. Her goal is to survive another day on her own without help from her elven brethren. The goal changes to wanting to assassinate Llewellyn for what Bijou describes as “smothering behavior”.

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STORY DEVELOPMENT:

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CHARACTER ARCHETYPE: (Put an X on all applicable boxes)

[X] Addict (Conspicuous Consumer, Glutton, Workaholic–see also Gambler)

[X] Antagonist (Opposing View, not necessarily the Evil Bad — see also Villain)

[X] Beggar (Homeless person/ Indigent)

[X] Saboteur

[X] Seeker (Wanderer, Vagabond, Nomad)

[X] Storyteller (Minstrel, Narrator)

[X] Thief (Swindler, Con Artist, Pickpocket, Burglar, Robin Hood)

[X] Trickster (Puck, Provocateur)

[X] Turncoat

[X] Victim

[X] Villain / Shadow (Big Bad of the story; see also Antagonist)

1. What are the motivations for the character’s actions? The voices in her head and a strong distrust of everyone around her.

2. What are the character’s goals / ambition / dreams? To survive another day and prove that she can make it on her own, that she never needed Juliet or anyone else.

3. What external conflicts would you wish for the character to overcome? What are the obstacles in the character’s path that might make this difficult? Find a way to assassinate Llewellyn Xavier. She can’t, because she knows she’ll be caught and forced to go to therapy.

4. What inner conflicts would you wish for the character to overcome? What are the obstacles in the character’s path that might make this difficult? Pleasing her head voices. They’re so negative that they’re never really satisfied and it’s a continuous cycle of anger and abuse.

Character theme song: “My Own Hell” by Five Finger Death Punch

Succubus Creek

Battered mashed potatoes on a stick couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than plebian carnival food…which was why Wendel Pompeo munched on it while scrolling through his phone at the Carnival De Garrison. Not a single text from his date. Not an LOL. Not an LMAO. Not even a winking emoji. Lifelessness flashed across the smart phone screen. Wendel sighed. “What’s the fucking point?”

Despite not knowing what the “fucking point” was, he continued eyeballing his phone and snacking on fatty carnival food. He was smack bang in the middle of merry-go-rounds, rollercoasters, dart games, and the occasional freaky sideshow…and all he cared about was the blue light burning a hole in his own baby blues. As far as he was concerned, an actual flame could consume him and he wouldn’t give a damn either way. Maybe such a fitting death would finally warm up his icy heart. Maybe it would give him warmth that not even his ugly Christmas sweater could. But nope. More scrolling. More scrolling. More scrolling. And then…

“Step right up!” The sudden belting voice smacked Wendel across the eardrums and pulled him out of his self-loathing stupor. The voice belonged to a raven-haired lady in a top hat, one-piece bathing suit, and fishnets, using her cane to indicate a small creek going through a dark tent. “Step right up and sail down Succubus Creek! Take a load off! Relax!” She smiled and winked at Wendel. “Live a little!”

He gulped and looked down at his brown leather shoes. “Eh, why not? Can’t be any worse than being stood up.” He reached in his jean pockets and pulled out a five dollar bill from his wallet.

The lady pointed her cane at Wendel and said in a flirty voice, “I like you, but not enough to give you a discount. That’ll be TEN dollars, boy.”

“But…your sign says five dollars per person. I’m the only one here.”

“Do you honestly believe you’ll be all alone in that boat? It’s called Succubus Creek for a reason. If nobody was there, it’d be called Sad Single Guy with Shitty Brown Hair Creek.”

Wendel fluffed his own hair, rolled his eyes, and sighed. “I guess you got a point there.” He fished a second five dollar bill out of his wallet and put his total fare in the lady’s top hat after she held it out for collection. As sure as the December air made him feel colder than a dead body, he was guaranteed a seat in his own boat. The lady handed him some wooden paddles, blew him a kiss, and sent him on his way down the chilling creek.

And there he transitioned from the darkness of a star-filled night to the emptiness of a pitch-black tent that seemed to expand for miles. After a few strokes of his paddles, Wendel was covered in ghostly shadows, left to his own devices…his own wandering thoughts…his own isolation…He really was all alone in this world, as if the constant doom-scrolling before the ride wasn’t enough of an indication.

And then…a creepy orange light glowed from beneath the waters. Wendel’s heart started pumping as the light expanded to reveal the head of a demonic woman, singular ponytail, devil’s horns, brown scales, and all. Even creepier than the orange light was the amber haze radiating from her eyes as they stared bullets into Wendel’s quivering soul. He desperately darted his own eyes around looking for an escape, but it was just him and the frigid waters, no sign of the carnie who sent him down this cursed creek.

The demonic woman crawled inside the boat and sat across from Wendel, her legs crossed together and her blade-fanged smile sending more chilly weather across his skin. And then she morphed into someone who had Wendel’s heart racing for a much different reason: a familiar pretty face from his past. “Hi there, cuddle bear. Remember me?”

How could he not? The long brunette hair and college emblems were unmistakable. “Katie?”

“Yep! It’s me. You picked a lovely place for our next date, didn’t you. Oh wait…this isn’t a date, is it? I figured as much. You know why? You dumped me, that’s why!” That last burst of anger almost made Wendel jump backwards into the creek. “Here’s a question I’ve always wanted to ask, and not for a friend, either. Why did you dump me, anyways? Hmm? Was I too much for you? Did I come over too many times? Did you not like me calling you all the time?” She heightened Wendel’s heartbeat as she leaned closer with evil eyes. “Was I just another one of your…conquests?! Is that what you do with women?! Do you just fuck them and leave them?!” No answer, only icy sweats. “Answer me, asshole!”

He spat in the creek next to him. “I have dreams of my own, you know! I can’t schedule my whole life around you, okay? That’s why I went to college in the first place. That’s why we all go to college. I went there to get A’s and B’s. What were YOU doing this whole time? Why are you even wearing those clothes in the first place?”

Katie languidly rubbed her thumb and forefinger over the fabric of her college sweater. “You don’t like these clothes on me?” she asked in a subdued voice. “Fine, I’ll take them off.” When she did, she revealed another girl underneath: a blond in a cheerleading outfit. “Do you like this version of me better?” Wendel’s eyes bulged with fear as this new transformation smiled at him. She laid on her stomach and swung her feet in the air. “I never did thank you for helping me with my homework and helping my mom carry groceries when she was laid up. That was really sweet of you.” Uncomfortable silence. “And then you fell off the face of the earth…AGAIN!”

Wendel furrowed his brows. “Charlie…you’re sixteen years old! It was never going to work out! EVER!”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “But…but…you weren’t in any real trouble! The age of consent is…”

“I don’t care what the age of consent is! It’s fucking gross! Get out of my boat!” Wendel whacked her into the creek with his paddle and tried to catch his breath after that dramatic exchange. His breath became shorter no matter how many times he huffed and puffed. The darkness and isolation of this creek was suffocating him like a pillow over his face.

“You’re not going to get rid of me that easily,” said the titular succubus as she crawled back into the boat with a new transformation, this time of a brown-skinned lady in a ripped Metallica T-shirt and knee-high leather boots. Wendel clutched his throat as he continued to fight for oxygen. “That dance floor was all ours. I could have taken you home with me. But you just kept staring at me…and staring at me…like I was some kind of freak. Are you really that shy? Were you really that scared of dancing with me?” She grabbed hold of Wendel’s hand only for him to jerk it away.

“Don’t touch me, Bailey. Don’t. Touch. Me.” Her face grew solemn as he emphasized those words with a pointed finger. “I don’t know what kind of drugs you did the night of the concert, but I didn’t want you dragging me down with you. Like I just got done telling Katie, I have dreams of my own! And they don’t involve…”

The succubus morphed again, this time into a silver-haired cougar. “Don’t involve what? Actual commitment?” She morphed into a southern redhead. “Actual love?” She morphed into a black lady in dreadlocks. “Actually giving a fuck about who you’re with?” The demon changed shape multiple times in succession while demanding answers from Wendel, who was curled up at his end of the boat in the fetal position. Would he risk jumping into shivery waters just to get away from this creature? Was hypothermia really preferable to confronting his own romantic failures? Yes. It was.

But before he could dive in, the succubus grabbed the waist of his jeans and yanked him back in. “You don’t want to do that, Wendel.” She said in a multi-layered, monstrous voice. “It’s cold out there. It’s lonely. Besides, you have someone waiting for you at the end of the creek.”

“I don’t need anyone to wait for me! All they want are free meals and alimony for life! How am I supposed to afford all of that?! I have dreams, damn it! I want to make movies! I want to be rich! I want to be…”

“You can be anything you want to be, Wendel! But don’t do it at the expense of those who care about you! Stop leading them on and tell them how you feel!” Wendel finally relaxed in somberness and the succubus let go of his jeans. “Why did you sail down my creek tonight? To get away from your responsibilities to these women? If you’re shy around them or are not interested, you need to tell them! If all you want is sex, you need to let them know beforehand! You can’t keep getting away with shit like this!”

He brought his knees to his face and tucked his face between them, hiding in shame yet again. “I’m sorry…It’s just that…if I tell them…I might…”

“You might what? Lose them?” No answer. None was needed. “You can’t have it both ways, Wendel. Pick one or the other. Do you want to fall in love or not?” Still no answer. It was still unneeded. “Listen to me. Give me your heart and all is forgiven.” He picked his head up and gave a confused look. “Give it to me, Wendel. You’ve used your heart for abandonment and selfishness. Now I want you to use it for love. If you love them, say so. If not, then letting them down is the best love you can give them.”

As the succubus glared at him for an answer, Wendel sat there and pondered these points. He could swim away to the end of the creek and dodge his responsibilities once more. He would be safe. He would be happy. And his dreams would continue. But…just because his heart was broken, didn’t mean the women in his life had to have broken hearts too. He reached inside his chest and gently removed his heart, which he played hot potato with due to how cold and frosty it really was.

The succubus rescued the heart from his hands and inspected it. “That certainly explains a lot. I’ll put it over there with all the others.” She dipped into the creek and stored the frozen heart in a heated treasure chest, where the ice melted and warmth spread across Wendel’s body. He could smile again. It had been so long since he’d done it. His face muscles thanked him for the moment of bliss.

The succubus swam back to the boat and reappeared as another woman from Wendel’s life: a green-haired nerd in a hoodie and thick-rimmed glasses. This time Wendel didn’t shake in his skivvies. He stared at her life seriousness in his eyes, like he actually had an answer for this puzzle.

“Sorry I didn’t text you back. I should have told you…” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I had to put my dog down today and I just…I couldn’t…”

Wendel wrapped his warm hands around his current girlfriend’s arms, touching her with the softest grasp and the purest intentions. “Kayla…do you need a shoulder to cry on?”

“No! I want chicken nuggets!”

He smiled at her and held her head against his chest while she cried in his wool sweater. “I could use some chicken nuggets too. To tell you the truth, it beats the shit out of this carnival food.”

Chainsword Chester John

VERSE 1

Give a man a chainsword, he’ll decapitate your ass

Teach him how to use it, he’ll cut the planet in half

He’ll turn alien warriors into soft mashed potatoes

Leave them stinking up the air like rotten tomatoes

Such is the life of Private Chester W. John

A space marine hero and a political pawn

Fighting a war across the dark side of the universe

Where treaties are nothing more than useless words

VERSE 2

If he questions the Sergeant, he’ll get locked in a cage

If he keeps it bottled up, he’ll have no outlet for his rage

“The hideous creatures have no dreams of their own

It’s either you with a medal or them with your bones”

Hack and slash while never sleeping a single wink

Chester’s meant to follow orders, not independently think

He’s got a construction job waiting at the end of his duty

Be a good little capitalist, not a pixie boy cutie

VERSE 3

The space war is over and he gets a shiny medal

Chester wanted a parade, but he’ll have to settle

For a discount at Hooters and Dave & Busters

With the little bit of money that he’s able to muster

His body’s back on earth, but his mind is out in space

It’s an ordinary life, but he’s got blood on his face

The tears never came and he’ll never be the same

But at least he got his fifteen short minutes of fame

VERSE 4

He tosses and turns in his bedroom at night

Submachine gun to his left, chainsword to his right

Everything around him looks like alien slime

In civilian life, they call his violence a crime

Nobody taught Chester how to turn it all off

If he tried it in the war, they’d call him soft

Those alien planets were where he truly belonged

Here come the hot tears, there’s no need to be strong

Autism Burnout Video Playlist

 Well…I nuked my Twitter account…and Face Book refuses to promote You Tube videos…so I decided to make a nice blog post of what I like to call my Autism Burnout Video Playlist. Maybe if you’re burned out in some way, you can use these videos to get you through that as well. Here we go:

1. Reads with Rachel roasting Cassandra Claire over her plagiarism accusations: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V9ZbqClnLNE

2. Vaush responding to Keir Starmer’s comments about J.K. Rowling: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kZ2Xohvf-PA

3. Shark3ozero roasting a Tik Toker who disrespects human remains: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rx-gnoGxs_Y

4. Ginny Di writes a one-off D&D horror campaign: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R3I4ZPbUhP0

5. The Take analyzing Elon Musk’s ownership of Twitter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q3NO1laalXI

6. iilluminaughtii exposing Girls Gone Wild’s sex crimes: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G2uNYBD2nPg

Happy watching!

Chainsaw Channing Lugar

VERSE 1

Channing’s paycheck couldn’t buy him a feast

But he’s got beer and Netflix, at the very least

That’s what he gets for selling power tools

At the hardware store right out of trade school

Last thing he needed was the store to be robbed

What was there to steal? Nails and door knobs?

His nightmare came true at his work one day

“Stick them hands up or I’ll blow your ass away!”

VERSE 2

Robber opened the cash box and collected wallets

An act of patriotism is what he will call it

He needed the money to overthrow the “gum mint”

Buy some big ass bombs and some cool gun shit

He turned his back for a second too many

Just when he tried to squeeze out the last penny

Channing Lugar fired up the chainsaw

Morphed from working class stiff to a pain god

VERSE 3

The chase took place across several blocks

Robber left a trail of urine from his cock

Shit from his ass blew a hole in his jeans

Channing smelled Hooters steak and green beans

Even COVID deniers wanted to wear masks

Breathing human sewage is an unenviable task

Not nearly as bad as blood from the slash

Mutilation by chainsaw, corpse in the trash

VERSE 4

Is Channing Lugar a hero or a killer?

Not a rhetorical question or pointless filler

So many questions from lawyers and cops

They wade through blood and biological slop

Local news called him Chainsaw Channing Lugar

Said, “Hold my beer!” to Jason and Kruger

Going too far only works if you’re rich

Powerful too, not a working class bitch

Creative Crossroads

So…today marks the one year anniversary of when I got my critiques for the third draft of my fantasy novel Beautiful Monster. Ever since then, the quest to rebuild it from the ground up has gone…slowly. I’ve written back stories for Honey Valley (the main setting) and the Magetan religion (part of the elven culture). I’ve also created character sheets for anybody with a first and last name so that I can keep their extreme tendencies in check. I’ve taken several trips to Google Land so that I can learn more about the psychological aspects of my story. But as far as editing and rewriting the actual novel goes, that shit hasn’t happened yet. I’m taking plotting instead of pantsing more seriously this time around and I don’t want to fuck up on an apocalyptic scale like I did last time.

But here’s where my creative crossroads come into play. You see, the reason progress has been so slow on Beautiful Monster is because of all the mental exhaustion I’ve been experiencing throughout the year, which I owe to autism burnout, schizophrenic avolition, and the world being a general cluster-fuck of tiring news. Any little bursts of energy I do have are spent on other projects such as book and movie reviews, poetry, shorts, etc. I wear a lot of hats as a writer, but I only have one head. The creative process would be much easier if I was a hydra or a hellhound.

Beautiful Monster is a long-term project that will extend beyond draft number four. The last time I published something tangible on paper was in 2020, when I submitted Emilio & Marigold to the Hollow Hills anthology Raining Cats & Dogs. The last time I published something on my own was in 2018 and that was my third poetry collection Lunatic Justice. I’m not saying I’m in a rush to continue my legacy of publishing, but if Beautiful Monster isn’t going to see the light of day for a long time, it’d be nice to have something to tide me over until then.

I have a backlog of short stories and poems that could easily fit into another collection. I have 78 fantasy shorts, 69 nonfiction shorts, 83 contemporary shorts, and 252 poems that are just sitting in my folder doing nothing. Shorts and poems are less time-consuming to edit and rewrite since there’s less to keep track of than a full-length novel. But I also realize that some of these shorts and poems have aged poorly throughout the years and shouldn’t go into any collection whatsoever. Hell, Keith Richards drinking a jug of expired milk has aged more gracefully than some of my creative writing pieces. 

The best thing to do about this backlog is to hire beta readers to look them over and see which pieces will make the cut and which ones won’t. I’m also keeping my ears open to any suggestions on how the ones that have aged badly can become the best versions of themselves they can be. Don’t kill a bad story; fix it. But as I look at the prices of some of these services, I’m wondering how much it would cost to do fifty micro-stories or a hundred poems in succession, which is how these collections are going to be packaged. Would I be charged per poem or story? If so, how much would fifty or a hundred of them cost if there’s a minimum price? And now I feel like I’m a contestant on the Price Is Right. I better not overbid or else those sad horns will blast in my ears.

Here’s what I need advice on. Should I reduce the number of hats I wear as a writer and focus specifically on Beautiful Monster or should I take a minor detour and put out another collection just to keep my workload from becoming monotonous? Ultimately, it is my decision on what I want to do, but it’d be nice to hear other opinions as well. What do you guys think?

My Personal Space Is Not a Free Country

CHORUS

My personal space is not a free country

Not a debate where you go headhunting

Not a democracy, not a theocracy

Not pornography with rape and sodomy

VERSE 1

I’m a working class stiff from Port Orchard

I spend my time giving out fast food orders

Don’t like what I eat? Fuck off from the heat

The kitchen’s too hot, but you act like it’s not

Raise your voice at me like a drill instructor

You get double middle fingers, you motherfucker

You’re in my zone, you don’t have free speech

Don’t whine about welfare, you’re the real leech

CHORUS

My personal space is not a free country

Not a debate where you go headhunting

Not a democracy, not a theocracy

Not pornography with rape and sodomy

VERSE 2

Autistic obsessions over trivial hobbies

They’re mine all mine, no point in sobbing

I’ll spend my time doing whatever I want

You call it a waste of time, it’s clearly not

I’m having fun without hurting anybody

I’m not your specimen to probe and study

Never once told you to stop watching football

So fuck all the way off, it’s the only good call

EXTENDED CHORUS

My personal space is not a free country

Not a debate where you go headhunting

Not a democracy, not a theocracy

Not pornography with rape and sodomy

If I hit a block button on the internet app

Don’t come at me with your bigoted crap

My personal space is not a town square

I never asked you, so I don’t really care

BRIDGE

Put your gun away, you won’t need it here

Shelve your holy book, my message is clear

Do all of that shit behind your own closed doors

Don’t treat my house like a base for the Corps

FINAL LINE

My personal space is not a free country!

The Screamers

OPENING LINE

I don’t want to get over it

I want you to change your behavior

VERSE 1

Life would be great if it wasn’t for the people

What jerks will you meet? Let’s spin the wheel

It’s not America’s game show, but Russian Roulette

A bullet to the dome is what you’re bound to get

The screamers, the shooters, and everyone between

Barely an inconvenience on the TV news screen

The boogeyman they choose was never at fault

For bringing the economy to a grinding halt

CHORUS

Whenever I want to get on with my life

Always somebody there to bring down the knife

Just when I have the world all figured out

Here come the zealots ready to shoot and shout

The screamers!

The screamers!

Killing all the dreamers!

The screamers!

VERSE 2

Logic doesn’t work on the ones who need it most

They got the muscles of a Chad, brains of burned toast

You can lead a zombie to the doors of a college class

But you can’t make him pull his head out of his ass

CHORUS

Whenever I want to get on with my life

Always somebody there to bring down the knife

Just when I have the world all figured out

Here come the zealots ready to shoot and shout

The screamers!

The screamers!

Killing all the dreamers!

The screamers!

VERSE 3

When someone is too young to be a self-advocate

Their brains are molded by good old sacrament

They grow up to buy their own rifles and ammo

And they shoot up the world while wearing camo

These are the people we share a space with

Yet they call the disenfranchised a democratic myth

CHORUS

Whenever I want to get on with my life

Always somebody there to bring down the knife

Just when I have the world all figured out

Here come the zealots ready to shoot and shout

The screamers!

The screamers!

Killing all the dreamers!

The screamers!

25 Things That Got Me Through 2022

Just like in 2020 and 2021, I’ve got a list of 25 things that got me through 2022, which in turn was inspired by Innuendo Studios. Why? Because the fuckery isn’t over yet and silver linings are more important now than they’ve ever been. Anyways, here’s the list:

1. Backstreet Boys: Show Me the Meaning of Being Lonely

2. Dark Side of the Ring Season 3

3. Diablo II Soundtrack

4. Diablo II Videogame

5. Everdell

6. Final Jeopardy clips

7. Five Finger Death Punch concert with Megadeth, The Hu, and Fire From the Gods opening for them

8. Golden Axe Soundtrack (SEGA Genesis version)

9. Incubus concert with Sublime with Rome, The Aquadolls, and Naked Giants opening for them

10. Jon Moxley’s memoir

11. Magic: the Gathering

12. Maus II by Art Spiegelman

13. Pathfinder, Vol. 4: Origins

14. Quacks of the Quedlinberg

15. Reads with Rachel

16. Rocked (Luke Spencer’s You Tube channel)

17. Roger Waters: This Is Not a Drill concert

18. Starcraft Soundtrack

19. Sting: The Bridge

20. Sunstone, Vol. 1 by Stjepan Sejic

21. Super Human by Michael Carroll

22. Tears For Fears: The Tipping Point

23. The Price Is Right clips

24. Warcraft II Soundtrack

25. Wheel of Fortune bonus round clips

"Pathfinder, Vol. 4: Origins" by Various Authors

BOOK TITLE: Pathfinder, Vol. 4: Origins

AUTHORS: Various

YEAR: 2019

GENRE: Graphic Novel

SUBGENRE: High Fantasy

GRADE: B

It’s a good thing that this book has the Pathfinder name attached to it, because these individual stories of each adventurer read like a session zero from a tabletop RPG. You’ve got a warrior, a cleric, a wizard, a sorcerer, a thief, and a ranger recounting their origin stories to the head of the Pathfinder society in order to prove their worth to her. They start off with a quest or a job of some kind and end with either a life-changing revelation or a desire for more adventures. This is basic character building 101, especially when creating new ones to use in role-playing games. It doesn’t have to be overly complicated, but I appreciate the authors putting in the extra work to make them feel fleshed out. That’s part of the fun in playing a pencil-and-paper RPG, which also overlaps with being an author. Fun is the number one priority of any gamer, but playing D&D or Pathfinder can be training for budding authors wanting to break into the industry. It doesn’t have to be the end goal, but it could be if the player or DM wanted it to be.

Having said that, I do wish the more dramatic and heavy parts of these stories had more time to breathe instead of just bolting from one scene to the next. The wizard discovered that he comes from a family of ruthless slave traders and wants to abandon them. The monk who hires the thief wants to rescue his sister from being traded like a slave herself. The barbarian who saves the fighter’s life has a history of surviving horrible violence. These moments shouldn’t be glossed over so quickly. They need to be drawn out. They need to be expanded upon. Otherwise, it’s over too soon and it’s a wasted chance to make the reader feel everything that’s going on. Sherman Alexie, the author of War Dances, is a master of making everything feel important and heartbreaking. I don’t get that sense when I’m reading this graphic novel. It could be because it’s a graphic novel and they’re fast reads by nature. But still, I would have loved to spend more time in these heavy moments to make the characters feel even more human than they were before.

The closest I got to feeling anything for the characters was Kyra the Cleric’s story. She serves the god of redemption and yet finds nothing redeeming about the prisoners she and a paladin take with them on a rescue mission against blood-sucking demons. Her hypocrisy is a major character flaw that makes her feel three-dimensional. And it’s her experiences with the paladin that make her overcome this flaw. Not all redemption takes place on its own. Sometimes we all need somebody to show us the way. We as people don’t often know that we’re making mistakes or going down a bad path until someone else points it out to us. It’s what we do with that information afterwards that will make or break our redemption arcs. That makes a lot of sense to me and it’s why Kyra’s story is my favorite out of all the ones I’ve read in this book.

Overall this was a fun graphic novel to read. Even if you don’t play tabletop RPG’s, you’ll get some enjoyment out of this as a standalone fantasy story. Yes, I know it’s the fourth volume of a much larger series, but it stands out enough on its own that the reader won’t be confused about which part of the story goes where. That’s what good books should do regardless of where they are in the series: stand out on their own and not have to rely too heavily on their back catalogue for vital information. Pathfinders Origins gets four stars out of five. Not perfect, but ultimately a nice way to spend some alone time with your nose in a book. Well done to everybody who was involved in the making of this story from the authors to the artists.

Held Down

The dying candlelight in the sky shone through Duane Root’s barred window and sizzled his eyes like bacon and eggs. The tighter he closed them, the more green and purple clouds swirled in his dark vision. The C clamp on his head seemed to crack his skull with how tightly it pushed his brains together. The hairy demonic arms that held him down in his quicksand bed squeezed every last breath of air out of his already exhausted body. What was the point of fighting his self-imposed bondage? What was the point of getting out of bed for a day that was going to end as quickly as it began?

Using what little freedom he had left in his arm, Duane shielded his eyes with his hand and tried to read his obnoxious grandfather clock with blurry vision. He knew he slept long enough to justify a coffin instead of a bed. But when he saw the time read five o’clock at night, he cursed to himself and slumped defeated into his crushing, yet strangely comfortable bed. “I have to go to work tomorrow…I hate work…I should just sleep in again…”

Surrendering to the tightening arms and the bone-snapping head vice would have been the easy way out. Easy was how Duane liked things. What wasn’t easy was the rumbling in his tummy that seemed to drum against his barely visible ribcage. “Jesus Christ…” he muttered into an uncaring universe. “I’d kill for a pizza right now.” With the weakness paralyzing his body, he wished he was the target of his would-be pizza murder. In a way, hunger was a murderer of its own, but its methods were slow and torturous. “What a shitty way to die…”

Duane fought and struggled to free himself from the demonic arms, but it was like losing a wrestling match to a dormant elephant sitting on his already inflamed ribs. He struggled some more, not out of love for life, but out of love for whatever was rotting in his fridge and needed to be eaten. His strength diminished with every tug against the arms. His brains liquefied against the vice grip. It would have been easy to just to give up and only allow his corporate masters to free him for a twelve-hour day of even more torture.

But after a few more squeezes and squirms, Duane freed himself from the monstrous arms, which subsequently crawled by their bladed fingers underneath his box-spring. Duane even managed to rip the vice off of his greasy, partially-bloody hair. Winning that championship wrestling match from hell didn’t take nearly as much out of him as sitting up on his butt. His head swirled like a tornado ripping his synapses apart. He was sure he was about to have a stroke. His stomach even rebelled against him despite not having anything to puke up in the first place.

After a few deep breaths, Duane Root’s equilibrium returned to him and his stomach calmed down. The green and purple eye fog blew away in these mini-breezes from his lungs. He could see again. But what he saw drained all hope from his already sloppy brain. The sun was descending underneath the horizon. The cobwebs in the corners of his room accumulated. The sticky floor clung to his naked feet with every step he took. His pajama pants and dirt-covered Pearl Jam shirt could have put him back to sleep with how musty they smelled.

The way Duane walked across his bedroom floor reflected how exhausted he was by everything around him. It was a zombie crawl on two legs. It was death being propped up with skinny twigs. It was an act of self-mutilation just to take another step out into the kitchen. But step into the kitchen he did. In case climbing one mountain of filth wasn’t enough, the mountain got even taller when he saw how many dishes were piled up in his sink. The demonic worms crawled across them, eating away at crusted egg stains and snickering at him with rancid food between their bladed teeth.

“Okay, Duane, you can do this…right?” There may have been a microsecond when he was capable, but when he turned on the faucet and saw that green slime poured out, he sighed and hunched over as though nothing he did had a point to it. He languidly nudged the faucet while the demon worms bathed and chugged at the viscous goo.

“I don’t need dishes anyways. I’ll just eat with my hands, I don’t give a shit.” He opened the fridge and gazed at the options with despair and anguish. There was a bucket of Kentucky Fried Tarantulas that needed to be finished. There was a McBlowfish sandwich that started to grow mushrooms. There was a Snickers bar that looked like it was birthed out of an ogre’s ass. And to drink he had a bottle of beer that looked like a dragon pissed in it or a jug of milk that deserved its own funeral.

“Fuck!” screamed Duane with a scratchy throat as he slammed the refrigerator door shut and slumped down to his butt. He tucked his head in his hands and allowed them to collect his greasy tears. “I just…I just…I just want life to be fun again…I want to actually want to live…I want my friends back…I want my mom back…I don’t want to live here anymore…I hate this place…”

“There, there, now,” said a ghostly voice, following up with a pat on Duane’s shoulder. He didn’t bother looking up to see who it was, but like everyone told him before, it was all in his head, right? “How can I put this in a way that even you can understand? I know!” The ghostly voice coughed less like it was clearing its throat and more like it was trying to vomit himself inside out. Duane still didn’t pick his head up. “If it makes you feel any better…other people have it worse than you do.”

“Fuck you…”

“It’s true, Duane. At least you have food in your fridge. A child in Africa can’t say the same. Neither can any woman in Saudi Arabia or Afghanistan. There’s more to life than just your sadness. There’s more to the world than the little microcosm you’ve fashioned for yourself. Just pick your head up and smile for a change. Nobody ever got anything done by frowning all the time and being miserable.”

Duane finally picked his head up and saw nobody there. He shrugged his aching shoulders and took the advice to smile…but his headache from the earlier vice grip made that a painful task. Smiling wasn’t the only thing that was painful. So was contrasting his plight to children in Africa or women in the Middle East. Everything was painful to Duane. Every twitch of his finger. Every step across the sticky floor. Every breath he took just sucked the wind out of him some more. “I…I want life to be fun again…” The gulf couldn’t be wider between what he wanted and what he would get.

He took a few more agonized breaths, but this time with anger shielding him from stomach pain. He grabbed the refrigerator door handle to pull himself to his wobbly legs. He looked at the world around him and hated everything in it. His fists clenched painfully as he wanted to destroy everything in his sight. He wanted to smash the worms. He wanted to throw the faucet slime against his windows. He wanted to tip the refrigerator over and stomp on his disgusting food. But just imagining these things sent more shockwaves of pain through his body…and just like that his rage devolved into more tears.

“Why does everything have to suck so much?” he asked the apathetic void. “I want life to be fun again!” But if it couldn’t be, he would rip open his silverware drawer and look for any weapon he could find. A knife? A fork? An even bigger knife that had demon worms crawling all over it? A wooden soup spoon that had its edges eaten off, probably by the aforementioned demon worms?

Duane shuffled his hand through the drawer and pulled out anything and everything that could help him. The sharpest objects he could find were not sharp enough. He needed something strong. He needed something that could cut through misery as through it were butter. He needed…a secret key?

He pulled the key out and stared at it with confusion. Was it supposed to start his car? Was it supposed to lock his house? It was too small to be either of those things. He then rushed to the bathroom, sticky floor pounding against his heels like war drums. He ignored the demon worms crawling on his walls and unlocked the medicine cabinet. Surely, these pills would be more effective than a sharp knife. Less blood, that was for sure. He rifled through the pills. Immodium? Asprin? Tylenol? No. An orange bottle with a barely readable label.

Duane opened it with shaky hands and poured a few tablets onto the sink. He turned on the faucet and more green slime poured out, but he didn’t care. He filled his coffee-stained glass with it and used it to swallow the pills he laid out. Strangely enough, the green slime…tasted like regular water. The demon worms were just mediocre wall paper designs. The floor was just sticky because he spilled food on it days prior.

“I did it…I remembered to take them…” In a microcosm full of darkness and horror, these pills couldn’t be confused for Hocus Pocus or black magic. They were antidepressants. He forgot to take them over the past few days. He was so wrapped up thinking his microcosm was the shittiest place on earth that taking his medicine just…slipped his mind. It was a mind that was no longer sloshing around in his head like moldy Jello. And when he returned to his bedroom, the hairy demonic arms were just an afghan that his mother gave him. The quicksand was just broken foam.

Upon clearing out his fucked up head, he remembered another phrase that no ghostly voice would ever tell him: “One day at a time.” It made perfect sense. He didn’t have to do everything at once. The cobwebs could wait another day. The dirty dishes weren’t going anywhere. Tomorrow was a work day, one that would likely be stressful enough to make him forget to take his pills again. But then again…”One day at a time.” And then Duane plopped down on his mother’s afghan, breathing sighs of relief that didn’t feel like punches to his gut.

“You got this, Duane...just go to work tomorrow…and figure out everything later…You can do this…”

“No, you can’t!” said the ghostly voice, which was greeted with a middle finger from the man it tormented.

Carnival De Garrison

VERSE 1

Producers with some meat to beat

With an actress on the loveseat

Executives’ metal hips will rust

Antitrust ground into dust

Actors throwing uppercuts

Accuse their victims of being sluts

Hollywood embarrassment?

Carnival De Garrison

VERSE 2

Shamans with the letter Q

Angry jowls with red hues

Machineguns Hot n’ Ready now

Little Caesars clerks freaked out

Monster people in monster trucks

Family trees, no outer fucks

Cosplay as Leif Erickson?

Carnival De Garrison

VERSE 3

Cobwebs and candlelight?

Not without a sacrifice

Pastor pedos in speedos

Decide what’s good and what’s evil

Lay the virgin on the table

Read her rites from the fable

Deserving of their arrogance?

Carnival De Garrison

VERSE 4

Step right up, everybody

Bring a hubby, bring a buddy

Ten dollars a ticket, pay up, marks

Ten dollars more to park your car

Look at the freaks, a traveling zoo

Throw your sodas and hotdogs too

Treat them like they’re terrorists

It’s Carnival De Garrison

They do it to us every day

The difference is, they never pay

A ticket price, no comparison

Enjoy Carnival De Garrison

Red Zone

VERSE 1

I’ve got a potion in a vial, but it’s not magic

It’s to keep my blindness from ending up tragic

Tear gas, mace, batons, and glass shields

“To serve and protect”, yeah, we get the spiel

What are you protecting: corporate feelings?

Did we ruin your country club shady-ass dealings?

What are you serving: a glass of chardonnay?

Is this why you shove the crowd out of the way?

PRE-CHORUS

Crimes committed, cops acquitted

Beaten protesters, happy investors

Of all the shit you arrest us for

Put one more crime in your report

CHORUS

I think I’m parked in the red zone

I think I’m parked in the red zone

Cuff my wrists right down the bone

I think I’m parked in the red zone

VERSE 2

It’s not about consistency, but owning the libs

Easy rhetoric flows like shit from your lips

You’re living the dream as you gang up like a team

On an unarmed dude as you beat him into cream

PRE-CHORUS

Crimes committed, cops acquitted

Beaten protesters, happy investors

Of all the shit you arrest us for

Put one more crime in your report

CHORUS

I think I’m parked in the red zone

I think I’m parked in the red zone

Cuff my wrists right down the bone

I think I’m parked in the red zone

BRIDGE

This is your idea of utopia

Your kids’ idea of Nickelodeon

Your voters’ idea of unbiased news

They’ve got one more issue to choose

EXTENDED CHORUS

I think I’m parked in the red zone

I think I’m parked in the red zone

Cuff my wrists right down the bone

I think I’m parked in the red zone

I’m blocking my own ambulance

As you erase your own evidence

Of slamming me on the pavement stones

For being parked in the red zone

Parked in the red zone!

Guy Hogan

 =========================================

THE BASICS

=========================================

Name: Guy Hogan

Nicknames: Sheriff, Lone Star

Gender: Cisgender Male

Age: 52

Birth Date: 448 AM

Birth Place: Morgan Town

Currently Living In: Morgan Town

Species: Human

Ethnicity / Race: White

Citizenship: Honey Valley

Religion / Beliefs: Right-Winger

=========================================

FAMILY

=========================================

Father: Bart Hogan

Age: Dead

Relationship: Spoiled

Mother: Lisa Hogan

Age: Dead

Relationship: Spoiled

=========================================

PHYSICAL FEATURES:

=========================================

Height: 5’11”

Weight: 287 lbs.

Frame / Build: Chubby

Hair length: Long bald horseshoe

Hair color: Brown

Eye shape: Round

Eye color: Blue

Complexion: Fair

Face size: Jowly

Voice type: Grating

Foot size: 15 Men’s

Tattoo(s): None

Scar(s): Possum bite on his finger

Other notable accessories: Golden Hoop Earrings

Any other identifying mark(s): Bushy beard

=========================================

SOCIO / ECONOMIC / POLITICAL

=========================================

Political Affiliation: Conservative

Economic Class: Rich

Social Class: Law Enforcement

Occupation: Sheriff of Morgan Town

Income: High (including bribes)

Residence: Morgan Town

Transportation: Feet

=========================================

INTERESTS

=========================================

Favorite Food(s): Ham Sandwich

Favorite Sport(s): Cage Fighting

Favorite Book(s): Doesn’t read

Favorite Show(s): TV isn’t around yet

Favorite Music: Doesn’t like music

Favorite Color(s): Brown and red

Clothing Style / Preferences: Sheriff vest, baggy pants, knee boots, and plume hat

Hobbies: Playing pool, gambling, and cooking

Role Model(s): His parents and Orpheus Rinehart

Likes: Bribes, dessert, always getting his way, living comfortably, bullying poor people

Dislikes: Aforementioned poor people, elves, libraries, women who resist him

=========================================

PERSONALITY

=========================================

Good Qualities / Trait(s): Powerful, influential, and a spotless arrest record

Vices / Negative Trait(s): Spoiled, racist, can’t take criticism, and easily angered

Strengths: Power, influence, and good in combat

Weaknesses: Tires easily due to his obesity and is unmotivated if money isn’t involved

Habits / Idiosyncrasies / Quirks: Farts, chuckles, and burps

Phobia / Fears: Elves, lacking control, and riots

Select one personality type below that best describes your character:

PROTECTORS

[X] Overseer (ESTJ) – Thrives on facts and details. Has a clear set of standards and beliefs. They are hardworking, responsible, and self-confident. They rely on experiences rather than speculation, and make decisions based on these. Very good at enforcing laws and rules. Loyal and hard-working. Like to be in charge. Very organized, tends to be a stickler for the rules.

Define your character’s personality based on the following aspects:

a. Physically: Intimidating, commands authority

b. Psychologically: Spoiled rotten, hair-trigger temper

c. Spiritually: Makes fun of Magetans

d. Emotionally: Spoiled rotten

e. Socially: Despite his off-putting and obnoxious nature, he still commands obedience

=========================================

HISTORY

=========================================

1. Describe the character’s childhood. Guy Hogan grew up with rich parents who gave him everything he ever wanted while very rarely saying no to him. He developed a god complex in his teenaged years, which led him to running for Sheriff and winning. Now he takes bribes to feed his spoiled child habit while doing very little to protect the disenfranchised.

2. Name the good incidents that have happened in the character’s life. How has this shaped his personality? He got to eat as much as he wanted, especially at his birthday parties.

3. Name bad experiences that have happened in the character’s life. How has this shaped his personality? Because he was never told no, he never formed empathy for other people and became the selfish sheriff that he is.

4. What is the character doing when first introduced? What are his goals at this point? He’s accepting a bribe from Christian Savage to let his beat-down of Tarja Rikkinen go unnoticed. His goal is to continue to live comfortably and hopefully use his influence to get laid someday.

4a. Do these goals change at any point in the story? He firmly sides with Shadow Asylum when the heat gets hot. He’ll do whatever they want him to do whether they pay him or not.

=========================================

STORY DEVELOPMENT:

=========================================

CHARACTER ARCHETYPE: (Put an X on all applicable boxes)

[] Addict (Conspicuous Consumer, Glutton, Workaholic–see also Gambler)

[] Advocate (Attorney, Defender, Legislator, Lobbyist, Environmentalist)

[] Alchemist (Wizard, Magician, Scientist, Inventor–see also Visionary)

[] Angel (Fairy Godmother/Godfather)

[X] Antagonist (Opposing View, not necessarily the Evil Bad — see also Villain)

[] Anti-Hero

[] Artist (Artisan, Craftsperson, Sculptor, Weaver)

[] Athlete (Olympian)

[] Avenger (Avenging Angel, Savior, Messiah)

[] Beggar (Homeless person/ Indigent)

[X] Bully (Coward)

[] Catalyst

[] Child (Orphan, Wounded, Magical/Innocent, Nature, Divine, Puer/Puella Eternis, or Eternal Boy/Girl)

[] Clown (Court Jester, Fool, Dummling)

[] Companion (Friend, Sidekick, Right Arm, Consort)

[] Damsel (Princess)

[] Destroyer (Attila, Mad Scientist, Serial Killer, Spoiler)

[X] Detective (Spy, Double Agent, Sleuth, Snoop, Sherlock Holmes, Private Investigator, Profiler–see also Warrior/Crime Fighter)

[] Dilettante (Amateur)

[] Don Juan (Casanova, Gigolo, Seducer, Sex Addict)

[] Engineer (Architect, Builder, Schemer)

[] Exorcist (Shaman)

[] Father (Patriarch, Progenitor)

[] Femme Fatale (Black Widow, Flirt, Siren, Circe, Seductress, Enchantress)

[X] Gambler

[] God (Adonis, see also Hero)

[] Gossip (see also Networker)

[] Guide (Guru, Sage, Crone, Wise Woman, Spiritual Master, Evangelist, Preacher)

[] Healer (Wounded Healer, Intuitive Healer, Caregiver, Nurse, Therapist, Analyst, Counselor)

[X] Hedonist (Bon Vivant, Chef, Gourmet, Gourmand, Sybarite–see also Mystic)

[] Hermit (see also Wise old Man)

[] Hero/Heroine (see also Knight, Warrior)

[] Judge (Critic, Examiner, Mediator, Arbitrator)

[] King (Emperor, Ruler, Leader, Chief — see also Politician)

[] Knight in Shining Armor

[] Liberator

[] Lover

[] Martyr

[] Mediator (Ambassador, Diplomat, Go-Between)

[] Mentor (Master, Counselor, Tutor)

[] Messiah (Redeemer, Savior)

[] Midas/Miser

[] Monk/Nun (Celibate)

[] Mother (Matriarch, Mother Nature)

[] Mystic (Renunciate, Anchorite, Hermit)

[] Networker (Messenger, Herald, Courier, Journalist, Communicator)

[] Pioneer (Explorer, Settler, Pilgrim, Innovator)

[] Poet

[X] Politician (see also King)

[] Priest (Priestess, Minister, Rabbi, Evangelist)

[] Prince

[] Prostitute

[] Queen (Empress)

[] Rebel (Anarchist, Revolutionary, Political Protester, Nonconformist, Pirate)

[] Rescuer

[] Saboteur

[] Samaritan

[] Scribe (Copyist, Secretary, Accountant–see also Journalist)

[] Seeker (Wanderer, Vagabond, Nomad)

[] Servant (Indentured Servant)

[] Shape-shifter (Spell-caster–see also Trickster)

[] Slave

[] Spectre (Ghost / Apparition with Unresolved issues)

[] Storyteller (Minstrel, Narrator)

[] Student / Scholar (Disciple, Devotee, Follower, Apprentice)

[] Teacher (Instructor, see also Mentor)

[] Thief (Swindler, Con Artist, Pickpocket, Burglar, Robin Hood)

[] Threshold Guardian

[] Trickster (Puck, Provocateur)

[X] Turncoat

[] Vampire

[] Victim

[X] Villain / Shadow (Big Bad of the story; see also Antagonist)

[] Virgin (see also Celibate)

[] Visionary (Dreamer, Prophet, Seer–see also Guide, Alchemist)

[] Warrior (Soldier, Crime Fighter, Amazon, Mercenary, Soldier of Fortune, Gunslinger, Samurai)

[] Wise old Man (see also Hermit)

1. What are the motivations for the character’s actions? Living easy and always wanting more than he already has, which is a lot.

2. What are the character’s goals / ambition / dreams? To have his own castle despite never being royalty

3. What external conflicts would you wish for the character to overcome? Bully as many naysayers as he can, including elves.

3a. What are the obstacles in the character’s path that might make this difficult? He has to keep up the illusion that he is a sheriff and not a crook with a badge, so his dealings have to be subtle.

4. What inner conflicts would you wish for the character to overcome? Satisfying his genocidal nature and resisting criticism.

4a. What are the obstacles in the character’s path that might make this difficult? His opponents are more physically fit and generally better fighters than him, which he can always nullify with a Devon Bay firearm.

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AUTHOR’S NOTES / MISCELLANY

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Character theme song: “Bad to the Bone” by George Thorogood and the Destroyers

Celebrity / IRL lookalike: The Bastion Booger

Final Fantasy IV and Stupidity

When people ask me about my favorite videogames, Final Fantasy IV is somewhere in that Mt. Rushmore...of more than four heads. Why wouldn’t it be? It’s got magic, science fiction, creepy puppets, and…unfortunately, it also has stupid characters. Cecil has to travel the world to protect the elemental crystals from Golbez. But every time Cecil and his friends touch one, Golbez is right there to take it from them, almost like the protagonists are just leading him to the crystals. There’s even one instance where Cecil had to exchange a crystal for his girlfriend Rosa. He gives Golbez the crystal and, surprise, surprise, Golbez reneges on the deal and tries to kill him. And then there’s the dragon knight Kain, who is supposed to be one of Cecil’s allies, but he keeps getting brainwashed by Golbez…over and over again! And what does Cecil do? Welcomes Kain back into the party every single fucking time the brainwashing wears off. Tellah, an old mage with powerful magic, has to sacrifice his own life to cast Meteor on Golbez, which doesn’t kill him, but forces him to relinquish control of Kain…for a little while! And by the way, Golbez is no better. He’s an all-powerful wizard knight who could kill everyone and everything in his path with just his magic alone. There’s even a time when he leaves Cecil and crew laying on the ground…and doesn’t kill them! If Golbez is that powerful, what the fuck does he need elemental crystals for? He could just lightning bolt the world out of orbit if he wanted to! Zip-zap, done! End of story! I’m not saying I’ve never had stupid characters before, but holy shit, they’re not THAT dumb. Now that I’m looking at Final Fantasy IV through a critical lens and not a nostalgic one, where does that rank it on the Mt. Rushmore of my favorite videogames? Hmm…

Love From a Safe Distance

VERSE 1

The roads are closed, nowhere to go

Bury my eyes in the blue light glow

Watching her talk with an angel’s voice

About democracy and being pro-choice

I hang on her words in a loving embrace

Rosy pink cheeks and a grin on my face

Call it simping or whatever you please

Excuse me while I sigh in a gentle breeze

PRE-CHORUS

When I went to bed

She stayed in my head

And this is what she said

CHORUS 1

I live in Canada and I love you

Buy a plane ticket and dinner for two

We can dance in the city streets

Nervous? I’ll wrap you in flannel sheets

None of my fans should ever be alone

It’s time for you to shed that heart of stone

You wake up and find I was never there

But parasocial love just can’t compare

VERSE 2

She reads my favorite books, writes some of her own

In an army of fan boys, I never feel alone

Brought together by the diamonds in her eyes

But only one of us will get past the other guys

She’s got a husband and needs nobody else

But we can still try to be lovers ourselves

We could head to the bar, maybe touch some grass

“Notice me, Senpai! I’m your favorite in class!”

PRE-CHORUS

When I went to bed

She stayed in my head

And this is what she said

CHORUS 2

I live in England and I love you

Cross the waters if you love me too

We can hold hands in the scary darkness

Rest your head in my lap, listen to pop artists

I’m sorry you spend your nights all alone

But I’m a call away on the telephone

You wake up and find it was all a dream

The coldness of it all makes you want to scream

BRIDGE

This isn’t E-Harmony, that’s what they all say

It’s not Plenty of Fish, so get the hell away

It’s not Tinder, don’t think she’s here to play

She doesn’t know you nor would she want to

CHORUS 3

I live in Australia and I love you

I never said that, so don’t call me a prude

Get some medication, not a worldwide vacation

Stay in your own cozy little bitty nation

I’ll block you forever, so this is goodbye

I don’t even know why you had to try

To get in my life, I’m already a wife

Sorry for your broken dreams and mockery memes

Torger Manson

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THE BASICS

=========================================

Name: Torger Manson

Nicknames: Big T

Gender: Cisgender Male

Age: 36

Birth Date: 464

Birth Place: Devon Bay

Currently Living In: Atwood Castle

Species: Human

Ethnicity / Race: White

Citizenship: Atwood Queendom

Religion / Beliefs: Right-Winger

=========================================

FAMILY

=========================================

Father: Dagger Manson

Age: Dead

Relationship: Neglect

Mother: Ginger Manson

Age: Dead

Relationship: Manipulative

Step-Sister: Shelly Atwood

Age: 40

Relationship: Obedience

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PHYSICAL FEATURES:

=========================================

Height: 7’3

Weight: 350 lbs.

Frame / Build: Tall and Muscular

Hair length: Upper back

Hair color: Black

Eye shape: Wide

Eye color: Hazel

Complexion: Pale

Face size (broad, narrow, etc.): Gaunt

Voice type: Husky

Foot size: 21 Men’s

Tattoo(s): Cutlass on his chest

Scar(s): Bruised and calloused hands from cage fighting

Other notable accessories: Beard

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SOCIO / ECONOMIC / POLITICAL

=========================================

Political Affiliation: Right-Wing

Economic Class: Rich

Social Class: Nobility

Occupation: Bodyguard

Income: Rich

Residence: Atwood Castle

Transportation: Feet

=========================================

INTERESTS

=========================================

Favorite Food(s): Steak

Favorite Sport(s): Bodybuilding

Favorite Book(s): Doesn’t read

Favorite Show(s): TV hasn’t been invented yet

Favorite Music: War drums

Favorite Color(s): Black, brown, and gray

Clothing Style / Preferences: Brown leather pants and green bandolier

Hobbies: Weightlifting, cooking, and fur upholstering

Role Model(s): Shelly Atwood

Likes: Getting laid, beating people up, eating meat, drinking beer

Dislikes: Romance novels, vegetarians, shaving, being dominated (by men)

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PERSONALITY

=========================================

Good Qualities / Trait(s): Intimidation, commands respect, business-minded

Vices / Negative Trait(s): Simping, overbearingly harsh, clunky

Strengths: Muscular, tough, rarely needs help in combat

Weaknesses: Too proud to admit defeat, generational trauma, mixes business with pleasure

Habits / Idiosyncrasies / Quirks: Folded arms and death stare, knuckle cracking

Phobia / Fears: Being viewed as weak, being dominated by men, being punished for insubordination

Select one personality type below that best describes your character:

PROTECTORS

[X] Defender (ISFJ) – Puts the needs of others before themselves, to a point where they tend to give more than they receive. Quiet and conscientious. Modest and tends to be a spectator. They do what is expected of them without attracting attention to themselves. Sensitive to the feelings of others, and has a very good memory, especially when it comes to observing other people. Can be easily hurt. Very painstaking when it comes to detail.

Define your character’s personality based on the following aspects:

a. Physically (outward interaction with his environment, personal strengths): Intimidating

b. Psychologically (intellect, mental stability, morality): Easily pissed off

c. Spiritually (his faith, convictions): Mocks the Magetan religion for their vegetarian diets

d. Emotionally (willpower, under stressful situations, expressiveness): Wants Shelly (and beautiful women in general) to notice him

e. Socially (how others view him, how he interacts with people): He’s tender with women and violent towards men

Others things to know:

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HISTORY

=========================================

1. Describe the character’s childhood. Torger was born and bred to be a cage fighter and has had success from an early age due to his freakish size. His biggest fear back then was losing matches and pissing off his parents, who would emotionally abuse him for doing so. His parents eventually divorced and his father married into the Atwood Queendom, thus making Torger and Shelly step-siblings. Torger took his approval-seeking baggage with him into his partnership with Shelly and has been a bodyguard to her ever since.

2. Name the good incidents that have happened in the character’s life. How has this shaped his personality? Anytime he would win cage fights, his parents would celebrate with a massive steak dinner in his honor.

3. Name bad experiences that have happened in the character’s life. How has this shaped his personality? Anytime he would lose, his mother would berate him to the point of tears while his neglectful father blindly agreed with his mother.

4. What is the character doing when first introduced? What are his goals at this point? He’s kidnapping an elven woman to sell into sex slavery, but is interrupted by Windham. He ends up kidnapping Windham instead. His goal is to keep the business going and generally keep Shelly happy.

4a. Do these goals change at any point in the story? Friction develops between him and Shelly, so his goal now is to do damage control. He eventually wants to retire and run his own cage fighting league.

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STORY DEVELOPMENT:

=========================================

CHARACTER ARCHETYPE: (Put an X on all applicable boxes)

[] Addict (Conspicuous Consumer, Glutton, Workaholic–see also Gambler)

[] Advocate (Attorney, Defender, Legislator, Lobbyist, Environmentalist)

[] Alchemist (Wizard, Magician, Scientist, Inventor–see also Visionary)

[] Angel (Fairy Godmother/Godfather)

[] Antagonist (Opposing View, not necessarily the Evil Bad — see also Villain)

[] Anti-Hero

[] Artist (Artisan, Craftsperson, Sculptor, Weaver)

[X] Athlete (Olympian)

[] Avenger (Avenging Angel, Savior, Messiah)

[] Beggar (Homeless person/ Indigent)

[X] Bully (Coward)

[] Catalyst

[] Child (Orphan, Wounded, Magical/Innocent, Nature, Divine, Puer/Puella Eternis, or Eternal Boy/Girl)

[] Clown (Court Jester, Fool, Dummling)

[] Companion (Friend, Sidekick, Right Arm, Consort)

[] Damsel (Princess)

[X] Destroyer (Attila, Mad Scientist, Serial Killer, Spoiler)

[] Detective (Spy, Double Agent, Sleuth, Snoop, Sherlock Holmes, Private Investigator, Profiler–see also Warrior/Crime Fighter)

[] Dilettante (Amateur)

[X] Don Juan (Casanova, Gigolo, Seducer, Sex Addict)

[] Engineer (Architect, Builder, Schemer)

[] Exorcist (Shaman)

[] Father (Patriarch, Progenitor)

[] Femme Fatale (Black Widow, Flirt, Siren, Circe, Seductress, Enchantress)

[] Gambler

[] God (Adonis, see also Hero)

[] Gossip (see also Networker)

[] Guide (Guru, Sage, Crone, Wise Woman, Spiritual Master, Evangelist, Preacher)

[] Healer (Wounded Healer, Intuitive Healer, Caregiver, Nurse, Therapist, Analyst, Counselor)

[] Hedonist (Bon Vivant, Chef, Gourmet, Gourmand, Sybarite–see also Mystic)

[] Hermit (see also Wise old Man)

[] Hero/Heroine (see also Knight, Warrior)

[] Judge (Critic, Examiner, Mediator, Arbitrator)

[] King (Emperor, Ruler, Leader, Chief — see also Politician)

[] Knight in Shining Armor

[] Liberator

[] Lover

[] Martyr

[] Mediator (Ambassador, Diplomat, Go-Between)

[] Mentor (Master, Counselor, Tutor)

[] Messiah (Redeemer, Savior)

[] Midas/Miser

[] Monk/Nun (Celibate)

[] Mother (Matriarch, Mother Nature)

[] Mystic (Renunciate, Anchorite, Hermit)

[] Networker (Messenger, Herald, Courier, Journalist, Communicator)

[] Pioneer (Explorer, Settler, Pilgrim, Innovator)

[] Poet

[] Politician (see also King)

[] Priest (Priestess, Minister, Rabbi, Evangelist)

[] Prince

[] Prostitute

[] Queen (Empress)

[] Rebel (Anarchist, Revolutionary, Political Protester, Nonconformist, Pirate)

[] Rescuer

[] Saboteur

[] Samaritan

[] Scribe (Copyist, Secretary, Accountant–see also Journalist)

[] Seeker (Wanderer, Vagabond, Nomad)

[X] Servant (Indentured Servant)

[] Shape-shifter (Spell-caster–see also Trickster)

[] Slave

[] Spectre (Ghost / Apparition with Unresolved issues)

[] Storyteller (Minstrel, Narrator)

[] Student / Scholar (Disciple, Devotee, Follower, Apprentice)

[] Teacher (Instructor, see also Mentor)

[] Thief (Swindler, Con Artist, Pickpocket, Burglar, Robin Hood)

[] Threshold Guardian

[] Trickster (Puck, Provocateur)

[] Turncoat

[] Vampire

[] Victim

[X] Villain / Shadow (Big Bad of the story; see also Antagonist)

[] Virgin (see also Celibate)

[] Visionary (Dreamer, Prophet, Seer–see also Guide, Alchemist)

[X] Warrior (Soldier, Crime Fighter, Amazon, Mercenary, Soldier of Fortune, Gunslinger, Samurai)

[] Wise old Man (see also Hermit)

1. What are the motivations for the character’s actions? Approval and praise for being a “manly man” and getting the job done

2. What are the character’s goals / ambition / dreams? Like I said, retire and run his own cage fighting organization

3. What external conflicts would you wish for the character to overcome? Enslave as many elves as possible so that he can earn enough to make his dreams come true

3a. What are the obstacles in the character’s path that might make this difficult? Being hindered by Shelly’s leadership. Also, he can’t take on every elf by himself.

4. What inner conflicts would you wish for the character to overcome? Shutting up his mother’s head voice by constantly being the best at what he does.

4a. What are the obstacles in the character’s path that might make this difficult? Head voices don’t shut up; they just keep talking and talking and talking.

=========================================

AUTHOR’S NOTES / MISCELLANY

=========================================

Character theme song: “Killpop” by Slipknot

Celebrity / IRL lookalike: a taller version of Drew McIntyre

McLean Wolf V Can't Fight

Sorry, ladies, gentlemen, and non-binaries: the road to hell is closed for repairs. So what do we do with all of these good intentions? We make a D&D character who has the best of them, but belly-flops at the thought of executing them. And thus we have a level one human mage created in the late 1990’s named McLean Wolf V. His name was so badass that there had to be five generations of those motherfuckers. Unfortunately, McLean was so bad at fighting that it was amazing there was one generation at all. Never mind abortion rights, because killing off the first generation would have been sufficient birth control for a fifth-generation character that turned out to be a drive-by abortion in the end. You see…how do I put this as delicately as McLean’s fragile bones? The man couldn’t fight worth a shit.

And it turns out, that’s how the Advanced Dungeons & Dragons rules designed mages to begin with. They start out with four hit points. Four! You know what that means? It means there isn’t a constitution modifier in hell that will keep him from dying from a fucking paper cut. Mages can’t wear heavy armor and they can’t use heavy weapons. McLean of course had neither of those things. He had a wizard’s robe, a knife, and a bola sling. That’s. About. It. You’d think with all of my experience playing Final Fantasy games I would have figured out a long time ago that wizard-type characters were going to be piss-poor fighters who couldn’t be self-sufficient if they tried. Tellah from Final Fantasy IV can throw all the lightning bolts he wants, but if an imp so much as pokes him with his short sword, he’s on the ground sucking his thumb like a bitch. In the very first Final Fantasy game, white mages and black mages are the first party members that monsters go after, because they’re more fragile than Lego sets. Ever wonder why bullies pick on smaller kids? Because if they picked on hulking body builders, the police would need the bullies’ dental records to identify them afterwards.

So…I’ve got McLean Wolf V ready to go for a campaign. What he lacks in fighting prowess, he makes up for in magic…provided that he studies his spells every fucking night like he’s cramming for the SAT’s. And once he exhausts his spells, he has to study them again…and again…for hours upon hours…Well, guess what, McLean? Your enemies aren’t going to give you hours and hours to prepare for them. If a barroom brawler wants to pound you into coffee grounds, he’s not going to wait for you to study your fireball spells. He’s going to beat the shit out of you weather you’re ready or not. Schoolyard bullies don’t wait for their victims to complete karate training. Terrorists don’t wait for their victims to learn how to use firearms. Nobody’s going to wait for McLean to get his nose out of his books. In fact, forget the footman’s mace, you could just take his Stephen King-sized doorstop and beat him to death with it. It would only take one hit and he’d go from lying on the ground to lying IN the ground.

And because McLean couldn’t do a damn thing on his own, my brother invited his friends Nathan and Chris to come play with us. They could wield all the battleaxes and long swords they wanted to. I, on the other hand, had to throw fireballs, lightning bolts, and magic missiles like they were substitutes for a gatling gun. And if you ever needed an indication of how forgetful of a memoirist I am (which is a lot like being a mage who can’t fight), I don’t even remember what quest we were doing or why we banded together. All I knew was that midway through the game, I wanted to tear up my character sheet and never see McLean Wolf V ever again. James, my DM brother, wasn’t having any of that nonsense. He said that if I did that, he would make my eighth level paladin Charles Goodhorn die of natural causes…even though he was only twenty-five years old. He’s not even old enough to use his bastard sword as a walking cane and already my brother wants to hold him hostage so that I’ll keep playing as a mage made of glass. I guess he was trying to motivate me to try new things since I was so accustomed to playing warrior characters. Either that or it was the 1990’s and we were constantly at each other’s throats due to the inevitability of problematic brotherhoods.

Well…the campaign continued and Chris, Nathan, and I found ourselves in the middle of a cleared forest getting our shit pushed in by orcs and goblins. Chris and Nathan’s warrior characters slashed and hacked their way through the frontlines while I was in the background preparing for a spell. This was my chance to save their lives and prove myself as a wizard. The orcs and goblins became too much to handle due to their swelling forces. Even with the heaviest equipment, Chris and Nathan couldn’t fight them all without getting swarmed. So…McLean conjured a massive fireball and rolled it onto the battlefield like a bowling ball on a snowy mountain instead of a proper bowling alley. The analogy was appropriate since the fireball indeed got bigger and bigger as it rolled along. The screams of goblins and orcs burning alive was like a Baroque symphony of beautiful music. Then came the magic missiles to take out the stragglers. And the lighting bolts to make the battlefield crispier than a bucket of KFC, though not as tasty, but probably greasy considering the monsters we were dealing with. And just like that, the battle was over and I was the hero of the day. My opinion of fragile mages hasn’t changed, but I had more fun playing them as I got older. Truth is, they’re better in groups than on their own, not unlike D&D itself. Tellah lived as long as he did because the dark knight turned paladin named Cecil protected him. Black mages are always accompanied by hulking fighters turned knights and thieves turned ninjas.

Teamwork is the name of the game. But the D&D party that wins together serves prison sentences together. It wouldn’t be a James Haines-Temons D&D campaign if it didn’t involve incarceration of some kind. At this point, we should change the name of the game from D&D to Shawshank Redemption. While none of our characters had rock hammers to dig us out or posters of Raquel Welch to cover up our schemes, McLean was allowed to keep his books. Prison libraries are a thing, not unlike The Shawshank Redemption. But why in the hell would you allow a wizard capable of throwing avalanche fireballs to have access to books? That’s his source of power! You wouldn’t give Chris and Nathan their weapons and armor, so don’t give McLean Wolf his books! Nothing made sense in the 1990’s, but this should have been glaringly obvious. I guess we’ll never know if McLean torched the whole fucking prison, because that’s where the campaign ended for the day. We never did continue it. Bummer.

I’m not against the idea of wizards in my fantasy settings. They’re aesthetically pleasing, after all, and that’s why I enjoy fantasy so much. I could have a necromancer with skulls everywhere and poison mist surrounding him. I could have a pyromancer with fiery staves and spiky red hair that resembled his flames. I could have a sorceress who wore fancy black dresses into battle and could turn the skirts of them into circular blades while she twirls in a dance. The possibilities are as endless as my imagination. But as far as playing videogames and tabletop RPG’s goes, maybe it’s best if my wizards were accompanied by other characters. Every party has a role that needs to be filled. As much as I love the idea of an all-barbarian squad, who’s going to heal them when there’s no cleric and they get their shit pushed in after being exhausted from rage? What about an all-thief party? Who’s going to protect them without a wizard’s magic spells if they get caught? Like life itself, there’s something for everybody in this world. Nobody can do everything, but everybody can do something. A wizard can’t carry the load by himself. Otherwise, he wouldn’t need a chiropractor at this point, but an embalmer.

Sammy Marshall: Holy Warrior

Most of you know by now that I like to randomly choose my characters’ names. But in the case of playing Diablo II with my brother, cherry-picking was the better option. Otherwise, I would have ended up with a paladin named Sammy Marshall. Not happening. Sammy Marshall is the kind of guy who will organize a union strike. Or if you need a football coach, Sammy Marshall can do that too. But if you give him a footman’s mace and send him into the Den of Evil, he’s going to get his shit pushed in by Corpsefire the zombie boss. On normal difficulty, no less. It’s the same reason why nobody will believe that Meg Ryan’s character from When Harry Met Sally had mind-blowing sex with a guy named Sheldon. It’s also why The Bastion Booger never became WWF Champion. Or why Taserface was laughed out of every scene he was a part of in the movie Guardians of the Galaxy 2.

Roger Waters: This Is Not a Drill

Last night at the Tacoma Dome, Roger Waters continued the North American leg of his concert tour called This Is Not a Drill. It was a show full of great rock n’ roll music and left-wing politics, both of which I’m a huge fan of. It started out with a subdued version of Comfortably Numb (with thunder and lightning in the background) and went right into the antifascism with The Happiest Days of Our Lives and Another Brick in the Wall, Pt. 2 and 3. This show churned out the most badass version of Have a Cigar I’ve ever heard. Equally badass were songs like In the Flesh and Run Like Hell. He debuted a two-part song called The Bar, which was described as a community where people can come together and be themselves without fear of judgment. If it wasn’t for me having to wait fifteen minutes before the show to use the toilet, this night would have been completely flawless. Before driving to the Tacoma Dome, I ate at a restaurant called The Southern Kitchen and drank lots of lemonade with my meal (chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes with gravy, and macaroni and cheese). A bladder the size of a snow tire was a distant memory compared to this wonderful evening with Roger Waters, one of my all-time personal heroes. I have my dad to thank for introducing me to Pink Floyd. I have my brother James to thank for driving me to Tacoma despite his tiredness. And I have Roger Waters to thank for putting on my favorite concert of 2022. Wash THAT all away, Five Finger Death Punch! Oh, I kid Ivan Moody!

Judgment Day (Never Back Down)

When Judgment Day comes, may I never back down

May I strike the match and burn it all to the ground

Sticks and stones are going to break my bones

And then you can film it all on your new iPhone

Names will never hurt me, but we know that’s a lie

It’s the buzzing in my brain that makes me want to die

Don’t call it Cancel Culture, ‘cause it’s consequences

It’s called the First Amendment, in all of your defenses

I don’t need whole army to make my excuses

Anything they do will end up being so useless

Let the town square pull out their own hair

‘Cause rage and depravation are their arms to bear

When shit comes to an end, none of us are right

Subjectivity is why we all love to fight

We see the fucked up world through our own lenses

And then bite down on our jaws with stressful intentions

Can we come together? Why would we want to?

To be fair I wouldn’t want to be anywhere near you

All this zealot fire and not a new thing was learned

We still hate each other and the world still burned

All this strangulation over one of my songs

Keep the message simple, just tell me that I’m wrong

On any given day, I could be weak or strong

I ebb and flow so much, yet I’m floundering along

I guess I’ll go back to my comfort zone

And never have to care about those sticks and stones

Judgment Day passed and I never backed down

I’ll see you all tomorrow, we can take it back around

Give Me the Weapon

So…have any of you watched a movie or TV show where an attacker is threatening people with a weapon and someone pleads with him to hand it over?

“Give me the gun. Don’t do this.”

“It’s okay, just give me the knife. Please.”

“Give me the crowbar before you do something you’ll regret.”

It makes for some intense drama, no doubt…unless of course the weapon isn’t a basic one and has a complex name.

“Give me Excalibur. Please.”

“Give me the Dork Slayer before you hurt somebody.”

“Give me the Shadow Edge before something bad happens. I’m begging you.”

And just like that you’ve gone from dramatic tension to the audience busting up with laughter.