Sweed Dude Enyoy
As told by Snackbar from dimension 419
LETS ROLL WITH THE FIRST SONG: watch?v=Aw3fN3OPk3A
INTRODUCTION
Crazy weeb dude Sweed wore combat socks, some cardboard boxes for pants, and an open-front winter parka with a sleeveless turtleneck underneath.
He was dyslexic, and had a lesser case of Schizophrenia. allowing him to assume that the reason he saw crazy shit was because he WAS a little bit crazy.
He had a grizzly adams beard as he was genetically unable to grow it and wore his hair in a mohawk.
He never took off his anime shades, for any reason.
He had a stuffed parrot on his shoulder named Surgeon that he constantly asked for advice, while ignoring the other party members assuming they were hallucinations.
He had an Automatic combat shot-gun he knew how to use.
He also had MEMORIZED the anarchist's cookbook. He started the game with a pre-existing hatred of religion, normies, and MOBAS.
His motivation was that he thought that the cult had stole his animegao kigurumis; while he had actually locked them in his wardrobe, got high, and forgot about it.
Most importantly, he had a 840 page backstory that justified EVERYTHING, from his casual knowledge of physics to his ability to speak ancient Shindalien flawlessly.
You can just imagine the sort of Shenanigans that character was involved in.
Act 1 Sweedman Begins
HERE COMES DAT SONG: watch?v=IF4hoXsAQ3E
Enyoy tends to get emotionally attached to a well-made character. To him they're the means of exploring a shitty gimmick, and a shitty gimmick is something he thinks the very foundations of modern society are based on. He doesn't mind an 'edgy end' so long as it's legitimate.
Botched a roll at a bad time? Shit happens. Bad choice, in character? Meant to be. Simply screwed by circumstance? Them's the shakes. 'LOL you're dead because you actually disagreed with my self-insert fetish-fuel character with a rape dungeon!'? I actually had to stop him from choking Omaga.
Which might make him sound like a bad person, ruled by petty emotion, but the truth is he's like a sea lion: normally quite chill. Not that easy to piss off normally. So he doesn't move often, but when he does... Things like Sweedmun happen.
It was the fifth session of the game with an 'experienced' GM, using 'Trail of Karthulu' (a small distinction on the whole, but one worth mentioning in my eyes) and he'd already lost three thousand characters. To the STUPIDEST shit.
Seriously, the last one some evil force put a curse on him, and he ended up being killed by a anime girl bodypillow.
Falling out of an airplane.
Yeah.
So Omaga goes to grab the pizza, since it was his turn to pay, and I could feel the room cooling slightly. Enyoy's expression never changed, he never looked at me, Jsay or Prinny. "I know you're thinking about leaving, but I want you to stay. I want you to watch what I'm going to do."
I knew this was bad, because while he can get mad beyond all belief (which is hilarious by the way, he makes a choking noise in the back of his throat like a murlock caught in a trash compactor), when he gets TRULY pissed, he gets calm.
We continue for the evening, and about a week later, we come back. He's giving me a ride, and he looks like he hasn't slept in two days, and his braided beard is almost, but not quite, into glorious viking raider territory.
"I've done something. I'm not sure it's a good thing yet." he says as he hands me the binder the size of Mordor he keeps his character sheets and notes in.
"You've done something?" I ask, as I take the folder from him.
"I... created? No, created is the wrong term. I feel like Surgeon wrote it for me, just to make the GM mad and have a laugh. I put a thing on paper, and I'm bringing it down on that fat fuck like the wrath of god."
"Uh huh." I say, as I look at the sheet. "Is Sweed his first or last name?"
"I don't even fucking know."
So then I look at the mountain of paper he called a backstory. I start reading it, and I'm immediately fascinated by what can only be called a tome of madness.
It switched perspectives and tone wildly, at one point it's written with stage directions in the form of a script. At one point it went to POLISH.
I know for fact a he only knows only a few words in Polish, while I know one (kurwa).
The Polish was in his hand, and it was unreadable for me.
I find my voice.
"Kurwa?"
"Been asking that myself. All fucking day."
So we get to the game, and the Omaga asks what we're all doing.
Jsay's detective is drinking alone at his desk, waiting for one of his contacts to get back to him.
Jimmy, the weeb type, is struggling with math homework.
My character, Professor Snackeater, is grading mid-terms.
Then we get the introduction to Sweed. He's sitting on a body pillow in his house, injecting krokodil, staring at a wall he painted to look like lewd animes. "You know, Surgeon?" He addresses the stuffed parrot currently resting on the arm of his chair. "You're a good friend. Most people would've asked for a hit, but you know how much I love this shit. Way better than what we had back in 'Nam." he chuckles, and then begins reminiscing "You know, I still remember the first time I got high. Back of a creepy dudes van. Know it musta been some good shit too, because I'm an only child. Ain't that right, Bongers?" He looks over to an empty corner of the room.
"... Bong?" He then gets up, mildly concerned. "Man, what the hell?" He begins to search the house in earnest, before sitting down on a chair in his kitchen. "Where the fuck are my animegao kigurumis? I mean, did somebody steal them? Who the fuck would steal them? Yeah, they're worth a lot, but come on." He then pulls out a sharpie and begins to scribble on the table. "Alright, 215 kigurumis, total weight about 470 pounds, total value approaching 6969 k. Not a one man job. Need help to put them on, need help to sell them. I'm looking at a large and well organized group of weeaboos."
He looks into the middle distance. "Like those guys down the street? They're Mormons, right? Large religious group, come around in the early morning like those damned charlies... Surgeon, I think we've got a lead." And then he poured a bottle of hot chocolate in a large go-cup, and went and got in his clown car.
Before I get back to the rest of the party, it should be noted that Sweed looks fucking insane, even by today's standards. So imagine all of his lines constantly changing accents. Because that's the type of voice we were treated to at the table.
Anyway, I've had the lead on a cult meeting for a while, and I managed to get an invite. I'm sitting in the front row, listening to a passionate Arab man talking about how there's more to the world than we know. Despite myself, I'm intrigued.
Jimmy is sitting outside, thinking about his friends and trying to decide if he should go in and talk to them or what.
The detective's gotten his call-back, and is now watching the scene with interest.
A battered '92 Buick Century with a ton of different colors of paint splashed on it fails to get their attention until it suddenly executes a perfect handbrake turn and parks at the curb.
Back to Sweed's point of view, he's blasting "Jiyuu No Tsubasa" when suddenly he sniffs the air and says 'Surstrommig' before whipping around and parking out front and killing the car.
He then gets out of the car, and pops the trunk. In full view of the detective, he then shoves 'Lurid Levi', an inflatable sex toy of exceptional quality, to one side and pulls out some sort of Israeli-made combat shotgun and starts walking towards the house.
He then kicks open the door while our mouths are agape and shouts the words that let us know the game would never be the same.
"Där är mina kigurumis dig Gud förbannade tjuvar !?"
So at this point Omaga has not yet realized what Sweed IS. In fact, I think I'm the only one who truly understood what was about to happen to existential horror, as at this point in time...
Here's another fun fact about Enyoy: When he's at a game table with a character sheet, you aren't at the table with him. You're at the table with whatever character he's playing until further notice. I don't think he could've meta-gamed if he tried.
So anyway, Omaga has decided to regain control the only way he knows how: By killing Enyoy's latest character via bullshit, and summons a Kartmanndo.
Sweed, having passed the patriotism check to not get turned into a superdemon, and winning the initiative, comments on how it's the UGLIEST fucking anime girl EVER oh god, and then shoots him in the fucking face until he dies. Then he shoots the cultist guy who summoned him. Then he shoots me, then a random guy, then he pisses on the Kartmanndo's corpse, since everyone else is too busy losing their shit in a panic over the Soldier That Should Not Be being summoned, he then casually sets the tapestry on fire with his e-cigar as he walks out the door.
So then everyone still alive runs the fuck away from the burning building before the cops show up. Sweed makes it home (about three blocks away) when he realizes something horrible.
He totally fucking forgot about the kigurumis.
He RUNS back to the still burning building, only to see the fire department has already arrived. They inform him that no stacks of kigurumis were in the building that they can tell.
On the one hand, he's relieved as fuck since he didn't lose the outfits, and killing that many little people would probably constitute as a hate crime.
Never mind that he totally just leveled a church with the speed and brutality of the fucking Spetsnaz.
Anyway he goes to try and cook up where they could have gone at the local pub.
Omaga at this point looks up at us from his notes. He's clearly been thrown so far off the fucking tracks by what just happened that he can't just improv his way out of it. "I... I think I need a minute. Or ten."
He amscrays, and I look over to the man I thought I knew. He has his cell-phone out, and is asking us if we're cool with Chinese food since we had pizza last week.
"What the fuck was that?" Asks one of our fellow players.
"Remember when I said I was getting revenge? I brought out the big guns. I don't even have the small guns anymore. I was given some once, and promptly returned them. 'Won't be needin' these' I said. Hello, Dillon's Wet Noodle? You still got that special on the shrimp fried rice?"
ACT 2 Snackbar is mad 1.0
This goes to all characters Snack will lose in this act: watch?v=2tmc8rJgxUI
So when I ended the last story, we had a dead Kartmanndo Kommendant, a burning building, a bunch of MIA kigurumis, and we totally just ordered some bitching Chinese food.
Anyway, at this point in the proceedings Sweed decided that if he couldn't get a proper brainstorming going at home as to the location of the outfits, then he could always try Mel's bar.
Good ol' Melaghan was scared proper shitless of Sweed after an incident with a 'fucking normie casual pinball machine' prior to the game's start, so he could drink in peace and nobody really bothered him about the mounting tab.
So he's sitting there working on a new plan of action with his two best friends, Mr. Milk and Mr. Still Water, when suddenly a news report comes on. Apparently some woman was commenting on how the quiet religious group a few blocks away from the bar just had their shit wrecked. Sweed was VERY interested in knowing that they were not in fact Mormons, but rather 'Disciples of the Kart Fuhrer' which apparently were a radical sect of Pseudo-Christianity that had the details promptly ignored since there was a Red Dragon Inn game on.
Then Sweed had a really good idea. Since somebody at the other table had the 'Deus Ex' theme as their ringtone.
He knew fuck all about looking for people, but a augmented secret agent... Unfortunately he didint know any so he had to settle for a Private Detective.
So after a few minutes in the phone book, he decides to literally call the first name he saw under the PI heading.
By sheer freakish coincidence, the phone in the Detective player's office starts to ring.
"Hello?"
"I need a man who's good at finding things, doesn't have any great love of religious loonies, and doesn't mind maybe shooting an ugly ass anime girl or two."
"... I'm sorry, but WHO is this?"
"Name's Sweed. I need some help from a professional."
"No argument here. So, you're looking to hire a PI?"
"Yep. Had something precious stolen from me."
"And that was?"
"Roughly 6969 thousand dollars of artisan kigurumis."
There was a silence both in game and at the table. "What?"
"I'm not saying it was cultists, but I'm pretty sure it was cultists. Or aliens, but that seems unlikely given the fact XCOM defeated them awhile back. If you're interested we can talk down at Mel's on the south side by the river." And then he hung up.
Since the detective was quickly getting nowhere with his missing persons case, he decided it'd be good for a laugh.
Sweed meanwhile had discovered that Mel had acquired a Pac-Man arcade machine, and decided to fill the score board with profanity.
So when the detective arrives, he asks for 'some guy named Sweed' and was promptly pointed to a man in... unusual attire who was telling a girl what anime is good.
"Sweed?"
"Hold on, just a second. The important part of a anime is to make sure that its filled with fanservice. Take all the time you need to find the right one, don't let reddit rush you." He says, and then he pulls out some lewd DVD's with less than appropriate cover art. He then turns to the detective.
Who promptly recognizes him, and tries to leave. Too bad for him, Sweed decided to follow. "So how do you think you're gonna go about this?"
"I'm gonna get the hell back in my car and leave the crazy ass arsonist/murderer behind."
"No shit?" He looks over his shoulder back at the bar "Which one?" He looks at the detective poking him in the chest. "What?"
"The church! You burned down a church!"
"They started it."
"Because you walked in with a shotgun?" He asked exasperated at the infuriatingly flawless logic of a complete asshole.
"No. Because they stole my goddamned kigurumis."
"Yeah, you mentioned that. How do you fucking steal 6969 thousand dollars in decorative lawn fixtures? Where the hell did you even get that many costumes or whatever the fuck they are?"
"I worked briefly as a prostitute in Detroit. The artisan animegao kigurumi collection was my retirement plan."
"What?"
"Ended up riding some dude's junk all the way back home. Hell of an uncomfortable ride, let me tell you. not meant for the ocean blue. And I would know."
"You... understand the logistics... of riding another man's junk... across the ocean..."
"Well, in a general sense. I took a course on ship building back in college. This was before we had these fancy navigational Gypsy Pathfinder Mage Space-fairy archetypes."
"... I... alright, you said you were looking for clothes?"
"Actually, that was earlier. Just now I was explaining that I knew so much about catching a ride on somebody's junk because of vigorous study in my youth."
"Let's focus on the costumes. You think they were stolen by a cult?"
"Only thing that makes sense from what I know. I want you to look into this 'Disciples of the Kart Fuhrer'. See if they're doing anything suspicious."
"Actually, I was looking into them already for another reason: looks like they've got a hand in human trafficking. Fetish costumes... seems like an odd direction to go in, but I won't deny that they're up to no good. I'll let you know if I find anything worth talking about."
"Sounds good. I'm usually at Mel's unless I'm not. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go see a man about a horse." Sweed then walked across the street, stole a bicycle, and rode off into a plot-hole for a brief period of time.
Now here's the question: Why the fuck did I do this? I guess I was drunk and decided this was the best course of action. Dont ask me why Kart is both Cthulhu and the Yellow King.
Alright, so at this point, the guy playing the detective decided to give my character an easy-in with the group, since poor Jimmy was still on his lonesome for the moment.
In rolls Sames Bar, one of SEVERAL characters whom Sweed killed, and the only one besides Steel who's name ever got remembered by the rest of the group.
Sames is a long-time friend of the Detective, whose name I just remembered was James Sayeuth (Pronounced 'Seyeth-ou-tehtt' for some fucking reason). Back when JSay was still a cop, Sames was a thug for the local mob. They worked up the ladders of their respective organizations, gained the respect of their co-workers, and eventually ended up leaving their jobs on good terms with their bosses.
In Sames's case it was because his wife had a baby on the way then, and asked him to find safer work. James ended up in a shoot-out where his partner got killed fighting against a bunch of crazy moemon addicts. Shortly after quitting they ran into each other by coincidence and discovered that the other one was 'the bastard who kept wrecking our job/getting away!' and ended up becoming fast friends. This continued on a fairly regular basis for several years until the Sweed situation, and James decided he wanted back-up. And there was nobody in the world he trusted more.
"So," Sames said as he walked into the office. "Who's the client?"
"Some crazy motherfucker named Sweed."
"That his first or his last name?"
"Man, I have no fucking clue."
"Alright, so what's he want?"
"Apparently he thinks a cult stole his artisan anime costume collection."
"... So drop the nutter."
"Two good reasons not to: The cult he's accusing I honestly believe to be involved in both activity illegal and bizarre. The other is that any man who can afford to just have 6969 grand in gnomes lie around can write a pay-check."
"...Why the hell would somebody have sixty-"
"Don't tug on this particular string Sames. Trust me, just... don't."
"So what's our first lead?"
"Well I was gonna go kick around in the ashes of the church my new boss burned down, and then see if there were any witnesses."
"Wait, our BOSS caused that church fire?"
"Yeah. So you're in?"
"You kiddin'? I NEED to see how deep this rabbit hole goes."
That evening they went to the site, and discovered the Kommando's corpse. There wasn't enough left of it to force patriotism checks, but plenty to make them start asking some pointed questions.
The Professor ended up on the list of people to look into when this body was identified, and then they found the page of the Kartonomicron. Recognizing the facist symbols on it, the Detective dropped it off at his office while he went to ask if he could borrow a notebook out of the cold-case evidence lockers.
Sweed meanwhile discovered that during a recent bender, he had agreed to chaperone a dance at the local high-school. So he swings by the detective's office to let him know where he'll be.
So he's at the office, and he meets Sames, asks him to pass along the info to James, and then snags the scrap of the Kartonomicron on the way out the door saying he needed paper. Sames failed his spot to notice which sheet he took. Omaga fudged it, probably assuming Sames was going to read it and he could kill him off via gas damage.
Boy howdy, was he wrong.
So Sames shows up to the dance in his usual attire, slightly less scruffy than usual, and volunteers to sit outside and make sure punks from the other schools didn't try and gate-crash the party. The more 'proper' people were glad to keep him out, since that meant he wouldn't be able to corrupt the youth with his aura of weeb.
Sweed was glad because there was no way they'd let him smoke the monster blunt he just rolled inside.
I then realized, as he lit a 'Dragonbreath Ale with Dwarven Firewater chaser', as he called it (a blunt roughly the size of a zweihander), that there was currently only one piece of paper on his person.
As soon as I found out where he was IC, I went to the school to try and prevent the inevitable.
Meanwhile, Jimmy (the weeb) was sitting outside, sad because his girlfriend didn't come because she was too busy being a crazy cultist.
Sweed decides to introduce him to the wonderful world of substance abuse, and like a bro passes the blunt.
To be totally honest, I'm surprised this moment didn't make the original story, since smoking the giant book of Bad Fanfics was the best thing to ever happen on accident.
So Jimmy took a hit, and totally failed every check Omaga sent his way.
He saw a german midget, and then the midget turned into a giant squid thing. In the deep distance, the Weed softened the blow by masking everything behind a cartoon-ey after-glow.
So imagine for a moment watching Prinny scream 'Blue Balls' and shoot himself in the face. Only instead of a fucked up exit wound and a muttering of 'I FEEL DEAD', he screams 'HE COMES!" and gas seeps out of his brainhole to suffocate 4 million innocent civilians.
This is the part where I had to go to the door and retrieve the precious shrimp fried rice, but I came back to "So wait, I ONLY lost 15 san?"
"Yeah. What now?"
"I pass it back."
Sweed of course manages to ace the tests, and then comments on how 'this is some really GOOD shit man' and how Jimmy is 'a fucking casual'.
Jimmy then does a bit better and they get to swapping stories. Pretty soon the Cult comes up, and they agree to join forces for the sake of weeb girls next door, and roleplayers everywhere.
Sadly that roach burned fast and hard, so when Me and James got there all we saw was the crazy old fuck and some ginger teenager crashed together against the wall giggling at 'those silly squid things in people's heads'.
So we then discover the kid's connection to the madness, and promptly discover what he knows.
This leads to the three people who DIDN'T have school tomorrow (both in and out of game) to prepare a stakeout of some church.
So at this point, we all get into Sames's van, and park down the street from a church. The church happens to be on the end of a road, at a T-shaped intersection, and we're parked a bit up the way from it.
"Man, stakeouts are boring."
"No shit, Sweed. You have anything useful to contribute?"
"Not really. I should've brought a book or something."
"Would you be paying attention to the building if you had reading material?"
"Not really."
"Then I guess that would defeat the purpose of a stakeout, wouldn't it?"
"Not if you two were watching. Hell, we could have two of us watching the third man playing Legend of Zelda on the CDI."
"You'd volunteer for that?"
"Beats the fuck out of sitting in a van with two dudes who won't even let me smoke."
"Didn't you smoke EVIDENCE last time you lit up?"
"I regret nothing. Fuck it, you guys hungry or something? I'm gonna go grab some munchies from the gas station."
"Bring "
"And some doritoes."
"Aight. Back in... fuck it, just leave the doors unlocked."
And he went in search of snacks. When he hopped out of the van, one of the cultists happened to see him on a lucky roll, and as he walked around the corner into the gas-station, they ran out and beat the shit out of the two of us left behind.
About the time we got dragged into the building, Sweed had FINALLY got out of the bathroom. About the time we got tied to the altar, Sweed had stopped to try on anime catears. About the time the ritual reached it's height, Sweed was debating which anime was the best with the cashier.
The end result of that argument was that while they couldn't decide if Attack on Titan or Full Metal Alchemist was the best series, Cowboy Bebop was pretty boss and heralded only good.
So then with some tense tests of willpower and resolve, James managed to free Sames and hold off the cultists while an evil presence steadily took chunks off his patriotism score until he was no longer able to resist.
Smiling in malicious glee, Kartur began to stalk his new prey. At this point in time, Sweed had JUST walked out of the store, just in time to see my character get vored by a monster wearing my friend's face. So he does the only 'logical' thing he could. He stole a fucking fuel truck.
So then we find out he was packing C4, and was making all sorts of tests while gunning it down the road towards us. He made it, and bailed, just in time for the truck to hit him off of me, and run my ass over. Kartur rode that truck to its end, while Sweed placed a call to Jimmy.
"Hey kid, Sweedmun here. Found out what the nasties are weak against."
"What's that Mr. Sweed?"
"Uhhh... Point blank... vapor- I mean annihilation... Let's just try that again in an hour." he then hangs up the phone, and proceeds to walk off. I finished bleeding to death two turns later.
That's right, mother-fucker LEFT ME TO DIE.
Sure it wasn't like I was screaming for help, but he could have at least CHECKED.
Since I'm not sure how familiar /tvn/ is with certain Karthulhu based rule-books, I was basically in what D&D calls 'alive, with a overabundance of negative hit-points'. So helpless, dying, but still there's hope.
Until the back trail ignited, and the tiny amount of bad back damage killed me.
My one consolation was that the fire blew up the gas station and took the bar he left me for with it. Then, the detective's player, after the fastest re-roll I've ever seen, entered stage left. Jillian Saylaw runs in and yells about how his newly refurbished bar just got destroyed on the evening of its grand insurance fraudening.
"Hey man, if it makes you feel any better, I can help you get back at the people who did this."
"Who are you?"
"Name's Sweed. This is my right hand man, Surgeon."
"... and you know who did this?"
"I'm fairly certain I do. Ever hear of the 'Disciples of Kart Fuhrer'?"
"Are you saying that this was done by cultists?"
"Look, I'm not saying it was cultists."
"Re-"
"But it was probably cultists. Come on, your bar might be gone, but it's not the only watering hole in town. Ever hear of a pub called Mel's? You look like you could use a drink."
At Mel's bar, he got filled in on what Sweed knew, while getting a couple of drinks 'on the house'.
(I probably would've been there too, were I not slightly pissy about losing two characters in as many sessions.)
So after a few minutes of back and forth, Jill decides he'll get in on it IF Sweed can provide some proof as to the whole evil cultist thing.
"So why'd you decide to go after them?"
"Revenge mostly."
"Really? What happened?"
"Same bastard who blew up your bar killed two of my buddies. This is after they stole all my fucking collector items."
"Damn. Tell you what, when we catch the guy, I'll hold him still while you give him the raperoom treatment."
"Mighty generous of you."
This was the point where we called it for the evening, and at the start of the next session Sweed headed up a 'daring plan' to kidnap one of the heads of the cult. I'll tell that one next time, but quick spoiler: I managed to get three of MY OWN characters killed in one session. (boo-hoo Snack)
Yeah.
Act 3 Snackbar is mad 2.0
IT CONTINUES! WHY CAN IT NOT STOP?! watch?v=oW_7XBrDBAA
Snackbar: "Technically I mistyped the end of the last thread: I REROLLED three times in one sitting, but I already had one character ready to go at the beginning.
When we first arrived for the game that day, I was determined to not get upset at a character death. It's just a game, why do you heff to be mad, all pretend.
I failed, eventually."
I don't even remember the name of my first character.(Probably something along the lines of John Burnt) The session began with the cultists using a mob front, planning to kill the son of a rival crime family. Incidentally, the same one Jim used to work for.
I was playing the role of the bodyguard, and I was quickly knocked out and thrown in the trunk of one car, while the kid was loaded into the back-seat of another.
Enter stage left: Sweed and Will. They see them wacky cultists up to no good, and they decide to nick the vehicle with the visible hostage. While Jill hotwired it, Sweed punched a hole in the gas-tank of their second car, and lit it off. They then sped away after unknowingly leaving my character to burn screaming in the trunk of the second car. (Yeah it was John Burnt)
Approximate elapsed time between the start of the session and first character death? Two minutes and thirty seconds.
I promptly rolled up a second character, and agreed with Omaga that I should wait until a more appropriate time to join the scene than in the middle of a drive across town.
They then decide to pull into a local bar with the Don's kid to help him get off his problem.
My second character of the evening's name was Snacald. Snacald was a used bodypillow salesman coming off the tail-end of a bad divorce in which his half-wife gained all their worldly possessions, including his cancer, and then promptly killed herself and left it all to the new church she had found: The Disciples of the Kart Fuhrer.
At this point in time, he was playing darts. Unbeknownst to him, a cultist from that church just let loose a powerful fart curse after the car that was stolen from them. A curse with a very specific target: The driver's bowels, which was Sweed coming in for a hard stop just outside.
Snacald looked at the perfect game he was playing, and felt genuine joy for the first time in weeks. Then he was ripped in half by a Tesla coming through the brick wall behind him. This was less than ten minutes after the first death of the evening.
Sweed gets out of the car, and the Bartender with the mob connections immediately puts a fully semi-automatic pistol in his face.
"What the bloody hell do ya think you're doing?"
"Trying to escort a young man to the rap- safety. Damn cultists must've poisoned the mineral water."
The bartender then recognizes Dolan's son, and calls him over to see if he's alright. Dansgame, the boy, is confused but mostly unhurt. This saved Sweed's life, but Omaga soundly refused to let me just take control of such a politically powerful character just to get back into the game quicker, so I started to roll up another: a cup, looking for some lead in a tap in a house across town.
A weird house connected to a cold case that his old owner Sames asked about immediately before his mysterious death in the middle of a huge explosion.
A place the mob had just told Sweed and Jill should have answers for some of the questions they had, as a favor for saving their son.
They get there after me, and open the door to creep inside. I've already investigated the upstairs, and found a cup mentioning saying something about a lab in the basement. Sweed, in the meantime, had gone straight down on the logic of 'what the hell kind of evil cultist just fucks around in the living room when they have a creepy ass sex dungeon to play with?'
He finds an old summoning circle down there, and decides to spit in its general direction, accidentally activating it as he walks out the far door, finding nothing of 'interest' in the room. Upon discovering that this other door leads outside, he circles back around into the house, and winds up in the study with Jill.
Meanwhile, with my new lead pointed me at the basement, I roll in, see the horrible thing rattlin' its bones as its taking shape, botch the FUCK out of my save against 'shatter handle, and suffer 2d4 bad back damage and take 40d12+1 sanity damage'. Sweed meanwhile picks up a book off the shelf and flips it open to a random page.
"What the hell kinda gobblydegook is this anyway? Where are the lewd pics? How are you supposed to pronounce this: Al'whya al Karthulhu fhatagan? K'kili'far al is ar'arkas fal dep'wa?" He turns to Jill, completely oblivious to the be-tentacled german commando he just conjured into existence behind him, cocked eyebrow barely visible above the rim of his glasses. "What does that even MEAN? What's the point of wasting paper with that sort of nonsense? Print anime instead!"
Jill, having barely failed his PAT check, gains five points in his alc. content score and points behind him muttering something about a thing that 'should not be'. Sweed chuckles and says how he's not going to fall for that one again. Last time he did the tranny he was interrogating vis-a-vis about his kigurumis had 'her' boyfriend beat the shit out of him and steal his wallet filled to the brim of monopoly money. So he leads Jill to the kitchen, leaving the kommando to his own devices.
In the kitchen, Sweed continues to be disappointed with the continuing lack of blues clues, while the professor is overjoyed to discover that the liquor cabinet was never emptied by the previous owners, and helps himself to six bottles.
Then the local cultists, getting a report of Sweed's location, proceed to kick in the door to come kill him.
Three of them are shot up by the thing Sweed summoned in the study, and while they're screaming the two of them take a peek at the next room, and Sweed smashes all the alcohol and lights it off while they run out the back door.
The abomination in the basement with me does nothing of importance, while I attempt to glue myself together and attempt to leave. I burst out the way I came, see the fire, and immediately have a SECOND breakdown caused by a pre-existing phobia of fire, heat and light (randomly rolled for) and then die burning paint, screaming in pain and terror as I crack into pieces.
Much like the cultists and the kommandos.
Meanwhile, Jill is asking Sweed why his car only has the Attack on Titan opening playing ever. It turns out that it's because his phone is jammed in the CD drive and has a uranium rod for a battery. Sweed just never bothered to fix it as he doesnt have opposable thumbs.
So they ride away happily listening to the opening for the sixty fourth thousandth time while I fucking died for the third time in the last hour. At this point I was beginning to get a little pissy and break my promise to myself to not let the game get to me.
I roll up another character, determined to do SOMETHING of consequence in this session. I end up with a nasty street-fighting mug named Snackrick.
Somebody in a yellow daiper gave Snack a pile of money and a picture of Sweed's FB profile, asking him to make sure he 'disappeared down the drain'. Now normally Snack would think twice about accepting such a shady deal, since he preferred to 'rough people's buttholes up' since it couldn't get you 50 cents to life.
However, it was a LOT of money, enough to buy fourty cakes. And I was getting to be very bitter about the whole dying every fucking session thing. So Snack agreed to the job. I figured that this would end with me either killing Sweed or us getting into a scuffle and then Snack switching teams.
Oh how wrong I was.
Turns out, Sweed wasn't a particularly tough fellow to find, since there's only one crazy old fucker with a meter long mohawk and shit stained shirt running around reeking of crap whiskey and porcelain.
When Snack caught up with him, Sweed was taking a piss on a hobo in an alleyway dumpster 'home' of a hobo that just tried to mug him, now dead. As he finishes up, Snack taps him on the shoulder, and he turns.
"You Sweed?"
"Indeed I am." And then Snack's right hook hits him in the face and smashes his 20'20' Gurren Lagaan shades into a useless mess of metal and glass shards. At which point Sweed very calmly pulls it off his face and pulls out a spare pair of shades, puts them on and comments "Well that was kinda roood."
Then Snack caught him with a left.
Sweed then tosses the second useless pair of weebglasses aside, dons a third set and then says "Now son, I've only got one more pair on me and I've got considerably less patience than that. What the bloody all loving fuck hell are you doin?"
"I got good money from a man in yellow saying that you're a no good son of a bitch communist who needs to be put down."
At this, Sweed puts on a very surprised and concerned face. "A man in yellow you say... Son, I'm afraid that there's been a very big mistake here."
"... I've been lied to?"
"Nah, you're pretty spot on." Sweed replies, before tearing out both my knees with his steel dentures, followed by a bite to the balls. "But no man gets between me and me weeb shit, maaaaaaan." he said as he spat out my ballsack. He then walked out of the alleyway, leaving me to bleed to death, and everyone at the table kinda looks shocked at the fact that Sweed just blatantly mutiliated a PC right there.
I will admit to flipping my shit a bit. While Omaga went to consult his now nonexistant 'notes', I confronted him.
"Why the fuck did you just kill me?"
"What?"
"You just fucking ate me!"
"I ate a random guy who threatened my life and started trying to beat the shit out of me in the middle of a crime scene where I totally just murdered a hobo? Yes, yes I did. What possible reason could I have to NOT shoot you?"
"It's ME you cuck! I've already died like three times TODAY."
"That's metagaming."
I went to make the call for takeout, knowing that I would've bit him if I stayed.
*INTERMISSION*: Remember to visit this link! watch?v=9UX76dJf3hg
BACK TO THE STORY AT HAND-
We get back to the table, and Omaga has got some new stuff lined up. I decide to opt out of re-rolling and rejoining even though we were only like halfway through the session because I wasn't ready to have another character killed off just yet.
Jill and Sweed bounce around the city trying to find a lead to work with for the whole 'SUCH A LUST FOR REVENGE?!' plot they were kinda working on. They ended up meeting up with Jimmy to try and talk his girillfriend out of being a cultist.
Which ended up fantastic.
Jimmy basically agrees to go to one of the meetings if she promised to seriously have a chat with him afterwards about the whole 'joining a cult for instagram followers' thing. She agreed, basically telling him that he'd totally change his mind once he saw what it was all about.
Jimmy was a smart boy, and he called Sweed's cellphone for backup in case things went south.
So, pretty soon, Sweed and Jill are sitting outside the church on the curb.
Waiting.
Sweed breaks the silence. "Man, I fucking hate stakeouts."
"They aren't that bad."
"Last time I was on a stakeout, two of my friends got killed and your bar burnt down."
"... does this shit happen on a regular basis with you?"
"Not causing it. Well, not usually. I remember I got arrested about a year ago for scaring a cook shitless."
"What? Why?"
"I told the motherfucker that I was allergic to oxygen. I get oxygen on my everything. I coulda fucking died if I didn't check it out."
There's a silence.
Then "Fuck it, there's a SMart and a video rental place around the corner. I vote we get one of those portable DVD things and a bootleg movie."
"Fuck yes. Shit, we're just here in case Jimmy calls us, let's get baked and watch something funny."
So they went and got a copy of Turkish Rambo, got high, and laughed their asses off. Literally.
In public, outside a church they're supposed to be watching for cultists that already know what Sweed looks like.
Surprisingly, nothing comes of this until Jimmy calls them from inside the church. Apparently they just called up some kinda demon, and told it to fornicate with his grillfriend and him as a sacrifice to their god.
His grillfriend, shocked at the sudden change in tone from the companionable welcoming fart air that was there before, suddenly realizes that cults aren't as awesome as she thought.
And that's when Sweed and Jill run inside, guns drawn. Jimmy, wise weeb he is, grabs his grillfriend and ducks, while full auto-shotgun spray kills every motherfucker in the room.
They go outside and into the car, Sweed starts it up while Will keeps the arson streak alive and sets the building on fire. As they pull away, Anon (Jimmy's girlfriend) goes all 'my hero' on them, and soon the two freaked teenagers are 'getting busy' in the back seat. Jill looks shocked, while Sweed lights the ecig up and starts hot-boxing while cranking up the stereo.
Which is when they passed a cop going in the opposite direction.
To this day, I am 'avin a giggle to myself thinking about what that cop must've been thinking when he saw that.
There's Sweed 'driving' the car, taking a hit off a ecig the size of god, next to him is a dude who looks like a stale piece of toast looking bored out the window, there's so much smoke inside that you'd think the car's on fire, and there's a couple of people obviously fucking in the back seat.
I'd like to think that he was thinking about his family, or going to watch a Red Dragon Inn game at the bar with his friends. Or maybe finally asking the cute waiter out.
I just... Some part of me desperately wants to know why it took him two blocks to process what he just saw.
Sweed just keeps going, not a care in the world.
Cop turns around and starts to follow him.
Sweed keeps going.
Cop turns on his lights.
Sweed keeps going.
"Sir, pull over the vehicle." The cops says into his loudspeaker.
Sweed pulls into a drive-through.
The cops walks up halfway through an order for tacos and politely asks what the fuck he's doing. Sweed responds with a 'hold on a sec' gesture and finishes his order. Then he asks if the cop wants anything.
The cop asks him to please step out of the car, sir. Offers of a dirreha tacos are denied.
Sweed gets out of the car, a plume of smoke accompanying his exit, Jimmy and Anon are kinda blushing and avoiding eye-contact, mostly having recuperated.
Jill, having seen three facist horrors in the last day, killed a bunch of people, and still coping with the loss of his bar... apparently has no fucks to give. He just sits there, high off his ass listening to the "Attack on Titan" opening scene.
The cop interrogates him as to why he didn't pull over, and Sweed responds that was because he is blind, and that he didn't realize there was a cop behind him.
The cop asks him why he smelled like weed, and Sweed replied that it was because he just ripped the biggest vape, but it's cool because he is blind anyway.
When asked about the kids in the backseat, he stated confusion, and asked what kids, before looking back and seeing Jimmy.
"Hey Jimmy, when'd you get here?"
"You... you came to pick us up."
"No shit?" He turned to the cop. "Tell you what, memories the first thing to go, followed right by the memories. So how can I help you officer?"
After replaying the conversation a few more times, the cop made Jill drive and they left relatively unmolested by their tacos.
ACT 4 - The one about OC's and shit blowing up
I think when I left off on the last story our inept 'heroes' had just gotten their hands on tacos and narrowly avoided getting arrested in true american fashion: dead.
Sweed is formally introduced to Anon at this point, and I decline the offer to take over her character to get back in the game. I already had a character in mind, and the session was almost over at this point anyway.
Sweed, being the responsible adult that he is, takes the kids to Mel's. "If you're old enough to kill cultists, you're good to drink and watch anime." He told them, and grabbed everyone a beer. We got most of the way into an elaborate 'Les Miserables' reference when Enyoy finally asks a question, in a tone of voice that suggested irritation.
"What the hell are you guys talking about?"
"... What?"
"I mean, you guys are clearly having a laugh at my expense. I don't mind that, but I'm not getting the joke and it's pissing me off."
"Dude, Sweed is practically the 'Jean Valjean' from Les Miserables. That can't be accidental."
"It was. I've never seen the movie."
"What?"
"...I've never seen Les Miserables?"
"What the fuck do you MEAN you've never seen it?"
"Not sure how that can be misinterpreted. I think my friend mentioned liking it in passing once."
Omaga agreed to call the evening right there so he could work on the next part of the game, while we dragged our 'fearless leader' to watch what WE thought was a fantastic movie.
So at Mel's, they bump into my second to last character: Malcolm Fenix. Mal was a soldier who just got discharged from the military after a tour of duty sent him into a nest of monsters.
He was diagnosed with Schizophrenic hallucinations caused by PTSD, and sent home. He overhears Sweed talking about cultists and deformed demon-facists, and asks if he can get involved.
We move out of the bar as evening begins to set in, in various degrees of drunk. We start with the building Sweed exploded.
Nothing.
We go back to the remains of the Church Sweed burned down.
Nani?! Oh... guess that was nothing.
Same story with the old mansion and the Cult meeting we saved Anon from.
"Fookin' Kart!" Sweed yelled dismayed. "Not one clue anywhere!"
"Maybe if you didn't burn everything down we'd have more to work with?" Mal suggests.
"We wage a scorched Earth sorta war here, kid." Sweed says darkly. "But that can wait until we get a lead. Anyone have any ideas?"
Jimmy, buzz well on it's way to wearing off, raises a hand. "Uh... the Internet?"
"What the hell's an Internet?" And then Sweed learned something new about the world.
Seeing as how Anon's and Jimmy's parents wouldn't want a trio of random dudes showing up to use their computers, they do the next most logical thing: break into the library, steal thier internet, put in a box and look it up on a cardboard box in a backalley.
Sadly, you cant physically steal internet so they used the computers instead. Unfortunately Google had zero useful results under 'Gorram pokemon fetish cultists'.
'Disciples of the Fuhrer Kart', as Jimmy pointed out, and then corrected Sweed's spelling, had a list of locations and possible meeting times for various groups across the city.
There were ten unmolested locations, and several of them were having meetings this very night. Clearly Omaga was wanting us to get back to investigating.
Sweed instead bought enough gasoline to make about fifty thousand Molotovs, and we burned every one of those motherfuckers down that evening, before stopping at the kids home for a good night's sleep.
Mal gets the the first round from the fridge as we watch the news, seeing our exploits all over T.V.
We all got a good laugh when the Cops apparently failed their assorted checks, tests, and investigations and managed to roll so many 1's they caused even more innocent casualties (interestingly all were black). Since we players decided as a group, that 'going to confront possible suspects' meant 'have no fucking clue what's up' and 'we're gonna go arrest Father OJ in the bathroom with a rope'.
Triumphantly, we return home for the evening, and we all catch the news the next morning. Apparently people are appalled by the hate-crimes against this one religious group in the community, and they send their prayers with them.
The head of the local cultists thanked the community for their concern, and said that he had the permission of the local government to gather together and gather tithes for the souls of their departed in a local High-School Gym.
In retrospect, Omaga telling us that every living cultist of Kart would be gathering into one convenient location should've been a hint that it was A TRAP!
Like one big enough to be visible from spess station 13.
This is when Sweed had a 'cunning plan'. He was gonna go there and talk to the head of the cultist guy. I tell him that it's a fantastic plan, since Jill already shared the summoning of the demon thing Sweed accidentally accomplished with him.
So the new plan, of which Sweed was only vaguely aware, was that Jimmy was going to help the 'deacon' set up a slide show thing for all of the words of the prayer that he was going to lead.
Sweed asked what significance kigurumis had in their worship. The Deacon, after deducing that he wasn't in fact being mocked, explained that the church was rather neutral on the topic of anime. Sweed then kept chasing the line as hard as he could, asking about things like Human-Catgirl relations. Whether the anime characters had souls. Whether said souled-anime girls could theoretically be used as sacrifices to Mega Satan.
The Deacon then, and I'm quoting Omaga here (in the only good line he had the entire game), gave Sweed a Look. A look that can only be summed up as 'Dude, I was fucked by Kart and you're creeping me out'.
Jimmy then lead Sweed away from the fracas, after he completed his secret mission of changing one of the slides about a third of the way into the show.
That evening, the cultists prayed to Kartur. They asked for guidance and protection. They asked that their dead be avenged. They asked that they be allowed to continue serving raw scolops (THEY'RE FUCKING RAW YOU DONKEY).
Or at least, that was the intent.
One of the slides had been changed to say something more like ' Al'whya al Kartulhu fhatagan, K'kili'far al is ar'arkas fal dep'wa'.
One horrible, tentacled Kommando per member saying the prayers out loud. Omaga assumed that we would crash the show, we chose instead to barricade the doors and leave. After the horrors had ripped apart the cultists, they turned on each other. Soon the hall was left with only the dead and dieing, while some stone-cold motherfuckers watched anime across town.
However, we didn't account for one thing. Kartur wasn't the only game in town, and a High Priest of Kartulhu felt a hundred monsters being called into the world in his Master's name. He investigates and finds the scene of the crime, and then looks into the earlier summoning performed by Sweed.
Gravely insulted by the turn of affairs, He uses a sympathetic binding using what little remained of the corpse to sick a pair of hell-ratata's on Sweed, before returning to his meditations.
When they catch up to him, Jill's already gone home, the Kids are sleeping, and Sweed's going for a walk with Malcolm. We're in the park not far from his house, about to part ways when we hear a horrible snarling noise.
Dicks in hand, we get a lucky shot off and kill one of them while the second leaps onto Sweed's face. He throws it off, and dodges it's second coming.
Guess who get's a crit to the fucking throat? Fucking Guess.
Yes, I'm still bitter that no character other than Steel survived across multiple sessions.
So as the monster kills me, Sweed manages a few solid kicks into it. The summoner, having detected a kill from his beasts dismissed the survivor, assuming that he got the kill he desired.
Sweed called the cops, and Mal was given a small but tasteful funeral at the military's expense. The official police reports read it off as a mauling by some dogs that apparently escaped, heavily wounded.
The surviving party members raised a glass in his name, while you and I are going to diverge from the sad scene.
That night, on the way home, I had a terrible premonition. I now wonder, looking back, if this was the same fey mood that took Enyoy the evening he created Sweed.
I looked on steam. I saw Surgeon messaging me. I knew what was about to happen.
Sweed was born of Madness, and a man's hatred towards blind people. I on the other hand, turned my eyes towards a magic more... solid. Practiced. Dependable.
Surgeon's drunk side.
I delved into deliberate munchkinism for one express purpose: The Creation of Steel Donut, Ugandan Spy.
I knew setting out that I would never curb Sweed's madness. I could never hope to match it either. I therefore built Sweed's exact opposite: Competent, sane, cunning.
His karmic balance.
The Jizz to his Bodypillow.
His fuck mate in plot annihilation.
The perfect support character. When utilized properly, a well made/played support character is a fucking force multiplier for team effectiveness.
Since Sweed was already wrecking the campaign harder than anything I could possible design, I chose to co-opt Enyoy's efforts, and make the Sweed situation EXPONENTIALLY WORSE.
TIME FOR SNACKS ULTIMATE CHARACTER! watch?v=vS7weJBQ1rQ
Switching away from the antics of Sweed for a little while, we take the action to a Ugandan village.
Most spies who try James Bond level bullshit get killed. They get lost, or abandoned by their own country.
Most spies are not Steel Donut. Due to careful manipulation of events behind the scenes, he managed to close multiple gaps in security, sleep with most of the non-std hive women in the village, and pass all the blame to the Tiger Mafia. He had a distinguished career behind him, and retired at Age 45 with enough embezzled bananas to have him tried for being a jew.
Less than a week later, without his spy network in place, his shack is destroyed and he goes back to work trying to figure out who killed his six wives.
His one lead skips town on a boat, so he goes to America with only one lust in mind: REVENGE?! (WHOOOOOOOOOO?!). He knows that he'll have to use local conditions to his advantage, since he going in blind and without a banana to his name. After all, the elder could hardly be caught funding a covert operation Stateside.
I track the Yacht, and find out where it intends to make landfall. I send a wire back home, and discover that it's an influential member of a group known as the 'Disciples of the Kart Fuhrer'. Looking around, it's not exactly hard to figure out why he might be interested in this town. Someone apparently declared war on his fucking religion.
I decide that finding the group responsible for this would be a wise move, since the enemy of my enemy would make an excellent disposable asset for the given value of 'friend'. Deciding to get up bright and early the next day to search it out, I retire to a pub near my quaint hotel room intending to sample the local bananas.
As I walk into Mel's pub, I'm greeted by a pair of people in the midst of a heated argument.
"I'm telling you Jill. This sort of degenerate activity is what's wrong with this country today."
"You're fucking crazy Sweed. Each Generation has it's thing. You guys had some classic anime. This is just the new thing."
"Come on, we all know those new anime on the T.V. Are tasteless bullshit. The REAL masters of lewd are dead and gone."
"I guess that's true enough, assuming you give proper credit to the proper manchildren."
"Jill, there's no FUCKING WAY, in ANY universe, that Jetfuel can melt steel beams."
"Let's get a second opinion." Jill responds, before pointing at Steel. "You there, new guy."
"Yes?"
"Can jetfuel melt steel beams?"
"Jet fuel cannot possibly melt steel beams due to the fact it doesnt burn at a high enough temperature. Bill Clinton is a thinmun?"
Sweed smiles. "I think I like this guy. Sup, Captain Alex? What brings you across the pond?"
"I'm a secret agent for the village elder. I came here to re-enact a raid on the Tiger Mafia , and get thrown out under an assumed name. Given your hilariously liberal gun laws, that should take most of my holiday."
"Which Tiger Mafia?"
"The one with the wierd gun and a leather jacket. The only proper one." Steel notes, a hint of distaste in his voice.
"Nice." Sweed looks at the T.V. "Hey, they're talking about us again."
"Your church?" Steel asks, taking mental notes.
"Victims of Jihad." Jill responds, taking a sip of beer. "Demon summoning cultist bastards."
"Stole my kigurumis too."
"Why do you reckon they did that anyway?" Jill asks, turning to his compatriot.
"Nearest I can guess, some sort of ritual sacrifice." Sweed responds. "By the way, that taxidermist ever finish stuffing that Kommando? I figure I can use him to lure in the kids on Halloween."
Steel finishes his mental assessment: These moromons will make for EXCELLENT cannon fodder. "Gentlest of men? A proposition."
He then explains the Yacht situation to the two of them, while Sweed takes a call from Jimmy. He then laughs. "Can you boys handle getting some parachutes and some speakers for a vaporwave concert? I just had the best plan ever."
"... What sort of plan is this?" Jill asks, watching Sweed intently.
"The best one ever. Come on, when have I ever not lied to you?" Refusing to explain further he goes and leaves in his Clown Car to unknown destinations.
Jill lets out a sigh. "I know where we can grab some speakers. You think you can get some parachutes?"
"I think I can manage. We meet back up here tomorrow?"
So while we went off to do some very mundane things, Sweed went to the local Airforce base. He told the man at the gate that he was a elite navy seal needing to see a Doctor, and then drove off to where the vehicles are kept. Since Omaga had no idea (and still doesnt) how base security was supposed to work, he pretty much just walked up to a cargo chopper going through pre-flight checks and vaporized in over a hundred ways, and thats only with his bare hands. After hooking up the Clown Car, he flew across town to a bootleg anime DVD warehouse and parked the chopper before going home.
There really isn't anything more to that story. Apparently these were the worst MPs in the history of american armed forces.
We all come back to the bar, and Steel informs the group that the Yacht will arrive in two days time. Sweed and Jimmy rig up a thing that would let them control the various light charges and speakers from a cheap laptop, while Steel reacquainted himself with the controls of a helicopter.
Jimmy, meanwhile discovered the home of the head of the local Kartulhu cults was at a penthouse suite downtown. A plan was hatched.
Second to last song for the evening... watch?v=bkkq7sdPGfY
That night, the Yacht pulled in, and we made our move.
Right as Steel maneuvered the Helicopter over the docks, we set off the Fart bombs and activated the Speakers.
On one side: A fifty piece marching band playing 'Ode to Joy' in german at max volume, and on the other live audio of Hatouli nerdgasming at the announcement of a new anime series.
Imagine, for a moment, what being on the dock would have been like.
Utter. Fucking. CHAOS.
I jumped down from the Helicopter onto the boat, and rigged it to lift out of there. During the course of which I ran into the cultist guy and Ninja Kicked him in the gelled mullet, knocking him tail-over-teakettle and off the boat. I later learned that he broke every single one of his bones in the fall.
Damned convenient, otherwise he might have have been able to ID me. We then lifted the boat out of there, switched to out secondary audio on all sides (Do you hear the people sing? - Les Miserables. I was in a vengeful mood, anime hating bastards.) So when the cultists finally got the farts to clear their Yacht was gone, their leader dead. And Les Miserables was stuck in their heads. Not the best of days.
Then we went across town, in a stolen Military Cargo chopper, carrying a 40 foot yacht, and 'parked' the helicopter above the penthouse, with the yacht about 80 feet above it. Then we cut the line, jumped out with our parachutes, and watched the yacht ruin a dinner party while placing bets on whether the military would save the chopper, blow it up, or if it would just hover there until the end of time.
At this point in the game, having dropped the Yacht, we are under no illusions as to what was going to happen next.
Omaga gave up the investigative undertones, we gave up on the disguising our war. I don't know why, but Omaga refused to give us a cop-out. He didn't want to just rage-quit and go 'rocks fall, everyone dies'. The session ended with us dropping a Yacht, and we all walked out of there fully expecting open warfare when we returned to the table.
A week later, we met for the last time as a group after MONTHS of weekly games. It took Sweed about three weeks to completely destroy any semblance to a plot or a long term goal. All that mattered at this point was that our deaths were long, glorious and brütal.
Ironically, it was the first time we all arrived at the table with the same expectations and enthusiasm. Enyoy wanted to see Sweed die and Omaga wanted to kill him.
I wanted Simon to draw it out as long as possible, John wanted to see Will continue to give Zero fucks.
In a way, we all succeed in our respective goals.
The game picks up about three days after the dropping of the Yacht. The remaining cultists begin to kill each other in open warfare and the police and federal investigators are all flipping their shit over the blatant WIZARDRY (YER A WIZARD HERRY) happening.
In the midst of it all, we're hitting high priority targets and wreaking as much havoc as possible.
The Clown Car is sacrificed as a Clown-Bomb to wipe out a police station filled with Kommandos.
We manage to briefly steal a tank from the National Guard and drive right through a bunch of Stürmtruppen in a Shopping mall.
Sweed updates his outfit, swapping the winter parka for a Leather Jacket, the back of which is emblazoned with a naked catgirl covering her privates, wearing Aviators and throwing up. He also dons a brown adult daiper.
Steel put on a tribal loincloth and refused to take it off, while Jill donned a pink bodytight leather T-shirt and a yellow Utilikilt.
Jimmy and Anon, sadly, couldn't update their costumes. Their players were pulled out of the game at this point by Jim's parents in the real world, since they insisted on dragging them to some movie.
We decided that meant that Sweed made Jimmy get the hell out of dodge, commanding him to FINISH THE FIGHT if it came to that. We went back to the now abandoned anime convention we were using as a hideout and loaded him up so he'd get out safe, and then dropped him near a military evac zone where he met his family. We raided an IHOP to get some food supplies, and then hit up a hardware store along the way to watch anime one last time. On the way back, we find out the the badguys have realized WE'RE the cause of all their problems, and were about to launch a coordinated strike against us.
They breach the military line between us and them, and start to pour after us like a black sea of unthinkable memes. Along the way, they started to REANIMATE! the dead and dieing of both sides to join their charge.
We managed to stay a half a step ahead all the way back home, occasionally taking a detour through a place like an abandoned shopping mall or the home and garden center at Lowes.
We get back, and then Sweed lifts up a stained animegao kigurumi from the back of the Truck. He smiles, and then puts it on, before turning to us. "The most gentle of men. It's been a pleasure." And with that, he made his way to the Stage.
We all knew then that it was a last-stand scenario, and we started barricading the doors. We managed to get three of the four entrances almost unbeatable, but the fourth one was being broken open when Jill and I got to it. Steel told him to go and make sure he took as many with him as he could, before walking into the mass to rejoin his wife.
Jill Stole a Tank out of the Tank Anime Girl School booth and set a new high score while running over zombies and throwing Ammo and gamerfuel to Sweed. When he died they were forced to go over the tank he left to get onto the stage, where Sweed was waiting for them. He managed to kill a shitload of them, but then he saw they managed to get rid of Jill's impromptu barricade. As if on cue, all three of the still locked entrances explode open, and a horde seemingly without number comes in.
Sweed smiled, and called Kartur forward into the world, and set the timers.
As Kartur stepped forward, he got a rather... unusual greeting.
"O Canada! Our home and native land! True patriot love in all thy sons command. With glowing hearts we see thee rise, The True North strong and free!~"
The Fuhrer pauses, while Enyoy apparently hits the limit of the internal clock he's been ticking off in his head.
"Alright, we win."
"What?"
"The charges go off. I set them for fifteen seconds. I needed to make sure he had enough time to arrive, but not enough time to actually ARRIVE."
"What."
He then broke it down and explained little pieces of information gleamed from Surgeon looking it up on the internet. Meticulous messages from MONTHS prior. Together, they painted a very obscure bit of information regarding the nature of the gods in this setting.
"But that's... That's... You METAGAMER!" Omaga accused dramatically, standing up and pointing.
"You only just now noticed?" Enyoy returned, politely baffled.
Omaga then performed the first and ONLY table-flip with a nat 20 strenght roll I've ever seen in my years of gaming, before leaving in a huff.
After a few moments of awkward silence, I realized that for all the bullshit, it wasn't really a satisfying ending. I'm not sure what drove me to do it, but I stood up. I picked up the table, and I moved to the now vacant GM's seat.
Sweed came to a few moments later, most of his body crushed in rubble. A few feet away, he notices another figure.
"Sup?" He wheezes, while reaching into his now torn kigurumi with his one good arm, pulling out his vape he stashed away for future use.
"I'm dieing." The form replies, his voice weak. "I must commend you Humen. I did not think capable of such task."
"Yeah, you seem the type to know a lot. Something I learned early in life is that no-one expects a sucker-punch from someone they underestimate." He then drags on his vape with a smile.
"True?" The form responds. "You knows I've been following you... on facebook? You know I never took your kigurumis?"
"Fuck, really? Well now I feel like I might've over-reacted a bit." He says with a cough. He then passes the vape to Kartur, who after only a moment's hesitation, accepts.
"You apparently just put them in your closet." He informs him. "... You know, I've figured out everything but one little detail. Mind if I asks you a qwestion?"
"Shoot."
"Is Sweed your first or last name?"
"... Man, I've got no fucking idea."
LAST SONG: watch?v=R95f7VwXqIw
Laughing, the man and the Mad god died together moments later. Sweed's body was dragged from the rubble two years afterwards, and only Jimmy and Anon and the son of the preacher man cared enough to attend his funeral.
So ends the tale of the most amazing character Enyoy has ever created.
Nah just kidding
He was trash too
Remember the Alamo
FIN