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The universe wants us dead

It's not going well. After last week's party deaths, Reynard removed Sam's steam-and-ghost-rock-powered Gatling gun from the burning remains, to ensure it wouldn't blow up, while Slick helped himself to the contents of Gunney's pockets. Slick then decided the best thing was to put a bullet through the steam canister to make sure it wouldn't blow up in our faces - so it blew up in his instead. Pretty much.

Mary dealt out some healin' to the reluctant alchemist, and we headed off down the maze. We managed to find our way out of it eventually, only to find some aliens with force fields for protection. They were really difficult to shoot at. In fact, not until Slick put out Slumber Gas and Greek Fire did we manage to even damage one of them - but sadly, Slick died in the process because those aliens do pack a helluva punch.

Our previous encounter meant that we were getting low on chips (Mary had to use her two legend chips not to lose limbs), and once you're out of chips, you're out of life. Or, if you're Reynard, it doesn't matter, because you can't spend chips to negate wounds anyway. First Slick went down, then Reynard.

Fortunately (?) both quickly felt much better, even if they looked very Death Becomes Her, so to speak. Mary is now the only original PC left standing, but hopefully, with two Harrowed in the party, maybe she, Jackie and Scraps the dog can still manage to save the future. At least four of them have died trying.

Courtesy of Tuesday 15 November 2011's 1st Edition Deadlands adventure at Chimera.


”Have you met your scrota this Shovember?”

“It’s like you’re roleplaying or something. I don’t like it.”

Scraps: “I’m like Scooby Doo, except not crap.”
Player: “Scrappy Doo.”

“Reasons to go to the hairdresser #72: if your hair wouldn’t be rejected by anime or games, you need a haircut.”

Player 1 (to Player 2 who just arrived): “Report PROPERLY, soldier!”
(Player 1 runs over to get a hug from Player 2)
Player 3: “It’s a little gay, yes.”

“I’ll have you know the president of the United States is not a random nutter! He was properly elected!”
“By random nutters.”

“It’s the Apocalypse – John F Kennedy on a cloud with a sniper rifle.”

“Buddy Holly is dead and we can’t even get Jon Bon Jovi on a plane.”

“It needs to be cooler. 20% cooler.”
“I’ll buy you an ice cube.”

Jackie: “I’m gonna miss the old coot – not the one that was crazy.”

Mary: “Mary’s standing around looking distraught. Two of her party members have died and a third one is looting their bodies!”

“In how many games have you had to fight your own equipment?”

“I predict a chargrilled Slick, followed by a chargrilled gun, followed by a chargrilled party.”

Slick: “I’ll spend a white chip to re-roll. (Rolls) “Two. No. I expect I’ll use the other chips for soaking.”

Scraps: “Do I get an extra hit location for my tail?”

“I see this not having a happy ending.”
“Not even mediocre.”

“So it suffered the same fate as parts of Japan.”
“I didn’t even know they split up.”

“What’s that, Lassie? Someone’s stuck down a mine shaft?”
“Yes. All of us.”

Slick (to Mary): “Are you done healin’ with non-scientific methods? I think I’ve been Christianised enough for one evening.”

GM: “There’s a bit of a smell; Gunney shat himself as he died.”
Gunney’s player: “Aww, thanks for killing my character, man!”

GM: “It’s approaching noon.”
Player: “Noon? It’s five in the morning!”
GM: “I said APPROACHING.”

“Well, Slick, that didn’t pan out.”

“Slick’s eaten human flesh already.”
“Sam’s eaten a LOT of human flesh. Unintentionally, but still.”

“I plays banjo real good wif mah feet-hands. – I think I’ve found my new character!”
“I thought that WAS your character.”

Player: “Being inbred is not a Hindrance!”
GM: “Actually … in Deadlands, you get magic powers.”

“That’s what we should’ve come back as: inbred conjoined twins!”

Player: “While everyone’s talking, I finish the adventure. How many bounty points do I get?”
GM: “21.”

Scraps: “I’ll try not to eat people’s guts like Dog Soldiers as I go along.”
Player: “No, Slick does that.”

Reynard: “I’m not going first!”
GM: “You said you were pushing forward.”
Reynard: “Yeah, pushing OTHER people forward!”

Player: “We’re just one character short of a Scooby Doo team.”
Mary: “I’m like the pretty one, except I’m useful.”

“Slick’s more Shaggy than you are, and he eats everything.”

Player 1: “I think 21 would’ve hit you anyway.”
Player 2: “21 would hit JACKIE CHAN.”
GM: “Or even Jackie!”

“I’m the assistant GM now, I have to kill people.”

“You’re breaking the fourth wall!”
“By speaking into the recorder?”
“Actually, it’s a DICTAPHONE.”

“I’ve got a lizard attacking me gizzards.”

“I believe the technical term is spazzing out completely.”

“I’m so unconscious I’m conscious again.”

Player (to GM): “Before you describe anything, eat her legend chip!”

“You could use the ray g--- oh, no.”

“Shoot it ‘til it dies!!”
“Pull trigger repeatedly until finished.”

“Summon the lizard wizard!”

Scraps: “I’m a dog; I bark ineffectively.”

(Jackie takes out a gun and shoots at the bad guy once)
Jackie: “I put the gun away again.”
Player: “Yup, that’s Jackie.”

Mary (to Jackie): “You’re really good! Why haven’t you done this before?!”
Jackie: “I was at the back. But with the death of those two useless combatants, I thought I should come forward.”

“Yes, but does she have Performin’: Showgirl?”

Mary: “Wait, is Jackie a cheerleader? ‘Save the cheerleader, save the world’?”
Slick: “Save the salesman … save the salesman.”

Slick: “How can I get all this Christianism out of me? I feel a bit cross.”

GM: “You can’t even think really straight.”
Player: “So what you’re saying is he’s a little bit gay?”
Slick: “Reynard! Nice ass!”

“Check for traps? We need a D&D rogue here stat!”

“And if it isn’t safe, at least it’s easily dodged!”

The Spirit is Sin City meets Who Framed Roger Rabbit?, and if you think that wouldn’t work, you’d be correct.”

“I didn’t like The Spirit.”
“Correct answer!”

“Can we talk about this?” (proposed line say to the aliens)
“That’s their cute to attack. It’s actually a grave insult in their language.”

Slick: “You’ve been knockin’ me unconscious all night, you sons of bitches! Now it’s YOUR turn!” (throws Slumber Gas bottle)

(to GM) “You’re killing your own wife! You’re a braver man than I am.”

“Scraps, pee on the force field!”

Player 1: “But the force field allows the slow blade.”
GM: “No.”
Player 2: (gasps): “Trope ruined!”

“Did you just call her Mary SUE? But she’s likeable!”

“Basically, we’ve built a torch instead of a ray gun.”

“Critics rank Quoth Roleplayers Say as 8.5 funnage.”

Reynard: “D4 wind. Excuse me if I don’t look impressed.”

“Clint Eastwood the hedgehog. That’s a game I’d pay to play.”
“Who wouldn’t?”

Player: “Don’t use the flamethrower; Slick’s in the way.”
Slick: “USE the flamethrower, Slick’s in the way! I haven’t got any chips left so I’m gonna die soon anyway.”
Player: “By another party member.”

Mary: “Is it possible that a healing potion could leak into his body and heal him slightly?”
Slick: “No!”

“So you’re being stealthy behind a dog with its arse on fire? Just so we’re clear.”

Mary: “Let’s run! I don’t care about saving the future! I’m not gonna be alive then anyway!”

“Don’t say run, he’ll hit a trap!”

“Scraps?”
“Yes, he is.”

Scraps: “I’m gonna drag Slick out of the fire, because a) he smells good …”

“You need to make serious damage. Like a flamethrower.”
“Or an exploding player.”

“It’s like Russian roulette with potions. One might be Greek Fire.”

GM: “I won’t let you roll reliability for Scraps’ penis.”

“So really, we’re using him for bait? This really HAS turned into Scooby Doo.”

“It’s like the end of Reservoir Dogs here.”
“Or Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.”

Slick: “I can practically SEE how much sin I’ve accumulated.”

(to Reynard) “Both rolls were 32. The universe wants you dead.”

Harrowed Slick: “Aww man, this just what happened to grandpappy.”
Harrowed Reynard: “Well, that didn’t pan out.”

GM: “When you notice the hole in Reynard’s stomach, he’s Harrowed too.”
Thriller! Come on!”

Harrowed Reynard: “I’ve been through worse.”
Player: “ ‘It’s just a flesh wound!’ ”

Harrowed Slick: “Is that my solar plexus showing?”

“We’re dead! Get over it!”

Harrowed Reynard: “Can I do something about this hole in my guts?”
Player: “Wear a thick shirt?”

Jackie (to Mary): “Do either of us want to commit suicide? Yes.”

“Even if drinking a healing potion did work, how would it stay in your stomach? You have a hole there.”

“Another two players dead, but they got better.”

“It’s like Serenity, man! We’re killed off! I’m a leaf on the wind!”

“He could’ve run back down the corridor and not be the only target.”
“Better him than me!”

Mary had to think long and hard how to write obituaries for the dearly departed who suddenly got better: Slick and Lucky. She assures everyone again that they are 100% accurate, even if she's slightly surpassed herself by not actually exaggerating in one of them.

Today's portmanteau: Shovember. Short for "Shit November", because it is what it says on the tin.