***ROBOTIC JUNKYARD***
Just like with the Necrocosm, the Robotic Junkyard will be
another opportunity for creative fuel, whether you’re a writer yourself or an
artist of another genre. Really, this blog entry is just an excuse to give you
updates on my life, but as long as I’m flapping my gums, I might as well give
you a prompt suggestion. You could write a whole novel or short story around
it. You could paint a picture of it. You could completely ignore it. No matter
what you choose, I’m keeping the buffet table of creative food for thought open
all night. You can come back for seconds, thirds, and maybe even the dessert
version of food for thought.
The idea of a robotic junkyard isn’t new, but it’s also
something I’ve only seen one time and I’d like to see it more often. In other
words, it’s highly underrated for all of the potential it could have. I think
it was Mega Man 7 for the Super Nintendo that had a boss enemy called Junk Man.
His stage was the robotic junkyard and the gimmick was basically throwing
mechanical parts at Mega Man until he was junk himself. Morph Moth from Mega
Man X2 might have also had a robotic junkyard for a stage, but I’m not
one-hundred percent sure.
Either way, getting mechanical robot parts thrown at you
doesn’t feel very good, or so I’m told. Imagine getting clocked upside the head
by a flying hubcap. Maybe a flying saw blade would be worse. Maybe a broken
down machine will come to life and beat your ass into nuts and bolts. And this
is just the overhead level. Once you get underground, then the metal parts will
really start to fly. I could have just as easily said, “The shit really starts
to hit the fan,” because that would be just as accurate.
I experimented with these ideas back in 2011 when I wrote a
novelette called “Thunder Ballz”. Yes, you read that correctly. I have nothing
to gain by lying to you about that. It was a hybrid of Dragon Ball Z and Mega
Man X written by a member of Generation Y. I just used X, Y, and Z in the same
sentence. High five! Anyways, this novelette read more like a game of Mega Man
X with the number of different places the characters went to and how they
defeated their chief enemies in short order. One of the places was a robotic
junkyard and the boss battle ended when the upper level of junk came crashing
down on the villain. Ouch! That’s a lot of goddamn metal! More metal than the
Pain in the Grass concert I’m going to later this month!
Obviously, Thunder Ballz never went anywhere even when all
eleven chapters were written. But really, how could you expect it to when the
whole objective of the story was to find lizard testicles. Again, I’m not
profiting in any way by telling you this. In fact, I’m making my younger self
sound like a total toolbox. Hehe! What this means is that the robotic junkyard
idea is still up for grabs if I want to recycle it into another story. Heh, I
said “recycle” in a conversation about junkyards.
If I was hosting a D&D campaign with a metallic
scrapheap as the villain’s main base of operations, there are a few questions I
need to answer for myself before starting the game. One, who in their right
mind would want to live in a dingy place like a junkyard, and two, why are
robotic limbs in the same universe as a fantasy role-playing game? While living
in a pigsty isn’t always ideal to us semi-civilized humans, it would be for a
tribe of orcs, ogres, or goblins. To answer the second question, if Magic: the
Gathering can get away with using futuristic technology, so can D&D. They
are, after all, distant cousins of one another since they were invented by
Wizards of the Coast.
So you have the dirtiest and most classless races of
monsters living in this scrapheap. Now what? What could possibly drive a
wandering group of adventurers into this suicide mission? If they’re looking
for priceless artifacts, they’d have just as much luck as a hobo diving in a
dumpster: none. If a bounty head is hiding out here, that would be a little
more realistic. He has protection from the disgusting creatures and, let’s face
it, nobody would ever think to look in a place like this because nobody would
want to hold their nose for that long. My mother, bless her soul, doesn’t even
like being around wild rats. Adventurers like being around smell places even
less. When you think about wanderlust and magical battles, a robotic junkyard
isn’t the first thing that comes to mind.
But what kind of clues would you, the DM slash author, have
to leave behind for someone to even consider digging through a place like this?
New shipments? Bills? Noises? Activity? Or maybe one of the protective villains
gets unlucky and can’t shake the adventurers off his tail, so he unknowingly
leads them into the junkyard. Then again, maybe finding this hellhole of
metallic crap isn’t such a good thing after all. You’ve still got swinging
motors and flying anvils to duck and dodge. Don’t worry about getting a
concussion, because you won’t be alive long enough to experience it!
So how about it, my creative brothers and sisters? Do you
have any heroes who are crazy and/or stupid enough to want to go on a suicide
mission in a metal scrapheap? Actually, it’s not considered good form to have
stupid people for main heroes, unless you’re filming Forrest Gump. If your
heroes are going to poke around a dangerous and filthy place, they’d better
have a damn good reason. A dead body, a live body with a criminal past, or even
an accidentally placed valuable artifact (which would be rare) would tickle the
senses of even the most conservative adventurers. If you must adventure in the
junkyard, the least you could do is take a gas mask with you. Breathing through
your mouth doesn’t actually do anything to sooth the bad smell; that’s just a
myth.
***SLIPKNOT X MARILYN MANSON CONCERT***
If you’ve already heard me talk about this on Face Book, feel
free to ignore this section and move onto the next. But it’s true, people: last
night I went to see Slipknot and Marilyn Manson at the White River Amphitheater
in Auburn and
they tore the motherfucking house down. They were heavy, they were creative,
they were scary as hell, and they were fun to watch. While Slipknot was playing
“Killpop”, I sang along with them in the most aggressive and passionate voice I
could muster up. Apparently, this was enough for a guy to fist-bump me and for
a sexy lady in a dress and a cowgirl hat to kiss the back of my hand. In the
foolishly-written words of Anastasia Steele from “Fifty Shades of Grey”, my
face was the color of the Communist Manifesto after that kiss. All in all, it
was a fun-filled, magical night. On Sunday August 21st, I get to do
this all again at the annual Pain in the Grass festival headlined by Disturbed.
***WEEKLY SHORT STORY CONTESTS AND COMPANY***
Despite the energy I’ve spent over the past few days, I’m
definitely competing in this week’s “Celestial” contest. I wouldn’t want to
pass up an opportunity to write “Hardcore Hogan”, which goes like this:
CHARACTERS:
Garrison Kelly, Captured Earthling
Hardcore Hogan, Garrison’s Alter
Ego
Kasabian, Alien Lord
Random Squid-Faced Alien Warriors
PROMPT CONFORMITY: Kasabian’s ship is flying through the
celestial bodies.
SYNOPSIS: Garrison wakes up one day and finds himself in an
alien ship’s prison cell. He has no idea what he’s doing there, but when he
tries to shake the bars and complain, he gets electrocuted by the guards. Just
when he is about to give in, he finds the Hall of Fame ring of his favorite
professional wrestler Hardcore Hogan in the corner of the cell. When Garrison
puts the ring on, he transforms into the muscular wrestler and puts a beating
on the aliens after ripping the bars off the cell door. Kasabian serves as his
final enemy and the only person who could possibly explain why Garrison/Hogan
is on this ship to begin with.
***DARK FANTASY WARRIORS***
Looks like I’ve got another Occupy Wrestling villain on my
plate and his name is Dovald. He used to have a last name, but I can’t remember
what it was and Marie and I both agreed that he shouldn’t have one. Lots of WWE
wrestlers only have one name like Kane, Konnor, Viktor, and Kalisto just to
name a few. Dovald’s gimmick is that of a dark paladin with thick metal armor
and a big fucking flail. The worst part about him? He has a tag team partner
named Garra who’s every bit as brutal and badass. Of course, when the time
comes to draw Garra, he won’t look anything like Dovald. They may be twins in
Occupy Wrestling, but they don’t have to be twins in my drawing gallery.
***POLITICAL QUOTE OF THE DAY***
“It’s not a war on drugs; it’s a war on personal freedom.
Keep that in mind at all times. Thank you and have a nice day.”
-Bill Hicks-
***POST-SCRIPT***
Hey, that could be another reason why someone would want to
go to a robotic junkyard: drugs! There could be a meth lab on the underground
floor! A perfect place for filthy and freaky people to hide out!
