I’m running a pre-bought campaign in a sci-fi setting
Totally not-shady NPC: I’ll need you to retrieve my secret cargo from the abandoned spaceship, but it’s very private, so don’t look inside–
Player: Is it a girl in a box?
NPC: …What?
Player: This is a sci-fi story, and there’s a box you don’t want us to look into. There’s only ever one way that ends, and it’s always with a girl stuffed into a box.
Other Player: Hey, we don’t even know how big it is. It could just be a cigar box.
First Player: Okay, you’re right. It could be a bunch of sex toys. How big is the box?
NPC: It’s… uh… six feet long by three feet wide by three feet deep…
First Player:Ugh. Okay, fine. Somebody pack a crowbar and a spare set of women’s clothing. We need to go get this girl out of her box.
uhhhhhhh…….
One day I’m going to run a sci-fi campaign of some kind and there will inevitably be a girl-sized box that the players are not allowed to open
And when they open it instead of a girl there will be 12 possums that immediately escape and create possum-related mischief until they can be put back in the box.
Pandora’s Box possum au
“Sir, is it really necessary to hire mercenaries to transport a box full of possums?” “Corporal, these are the last 12 possums left alive! You know as well as I do a possum’s blood can make a ship go twenty seven thousand times faster! If we don’t reestablish a breeding population we’ll never be able to maintain our galactic hegemony!” “…but…why are we hiring smugglers to do it?” “A mercenary will do anything for pay. And once bought, they’ll STAY bought!”
GM: “Well, this mission should only take an hour or two, and if the players open the box its not like they’re going to become attached to the possums or anything.”
*twenty five minutes into game*
Players: “Ok, so we named all of our possums and we are never giving them back. WE WILL FIGHT A SPACE EMPIRE OVER THE SAFETY AND HAPPINESS OF OUR POSSUMS!”
ive eaten shrimp exactly 5 times in my life, always with gusto and an utter lack of self-restaint, and each time has ingrained itself in my memory as distinctly nightmarish when they ended with me ralphing it all back up within the hour. i thought this was reflective of my hubris and insufficient fear of god, but it is only as i write this post now, crumpled to my knees on the floor of this eresto’s bathroom after eating half a baja taco and recalling that my dad is allergic to shellfish, i realize perhaps the issue is not with a higher power, but with a deeper one. biology.
The most unbelievable aspect of TAZ:Balance is that in all those years, on a ship inhabited by Merle, Magnus, Taako and Lup, nobody ever dared one of the others to drink from Fisher’s tank.
