Zack: We creep over to Mister Corbitt's house and go in through the front door.
Steve: It is locked.
Zack: "Don't you have some Oriental magic that will open this?" I demand of Chang.
Steve: He tries kicking the door, but it is too solidly made.
Zack: We'll walk around the outside of the house searching for another entrance.
Steve: You are beside a basement window when you hear a crash of breaking glass and for a brief instant you think you see a woman running past.
Zack: I carefully examine the window frame for any loose spots, feeling the wood and checking the nails, then I hurl a large rock through the window. "You first, Pips."
Steve: Pips grumbles and climbs down through the broken window. You are entering behind him when you hear a hissing scream, like an animal, and the loud bang of the antique pistol. You are in a laundry room and it is full of smoke from the gun.
Zack: "Pips, are you alright?"
Steve: "Well enough," he says. "I think I winged the devil. It went scurrying through the door. Some sort of creature."
Zack: I will give Pips my mint julep to hold and draw my own pistol. I will carefully walk out into the hall beyond the laundry.
Steve: You can hear a pitiful mewling sound coming from a nearby room with a slightly open door.
Zack: "Over here," I tell the others. "Ready your sabers to hack it up if it comes running out." I open the door with my toe and aim my pistol inside the room.
Steve: The room is a medical laboratory. Gross jars of pickled organs and body parts stand on shelves. Various chemicals are in cabinets. Diagrams of human anatomy are on the wall. A refrigeration machine contains a number of preserved human body parts and fluids. There are three metal operating tables and on two of them are the police officers. They are dead, apparently stabbed, and one of them appears somewhat gnawed. More worrying is the creature whimpering on the floor next to them. It has a woman's head, a leg instead of a body and two arms growing out of its ears. All of you are afraid, but it is too much for Sharon Derriere. She sits down on the floor and stares off into space.
Zack: "Devil beast," I cry and fire my pistol at this thing.
Steve: You strike it in the head and it explodes, not revealing brain matter, but instead pieces of the chewed policeman's body. It's as if the stomach of the thing replaced its brain. It is still thrashing around on the floor.
Zack: "Eat to live," I say, taking Sharon's saber. "Don't live to eat." I start hacking at it with the sword.
Steve: Everyone else joins in, stomping and hacking up the creature until it stops moving and is no longer recognizable.
Your lair. Maybe you lure victims to it, maybe you hide in it between killings, or maybe you haunt it 24/7 because you’re tragically confined by a curse. Whatever the situation, for most of us monsters, a living/un-living space is an important part of our identities. In this column, Monstergeddon award winners share their lair tips and techniques!
Works great on my child, who hasn't barked at all for as long as she's worn the apparatus. When she turns three, we will remove it for a trial period.
The famed gonzo otaku journalist writes about the death of gaming culture in 2014.
Try not to break your console while I try not to break my cyber brain.
Zack Parsons, Steve "Malak" Sumner, and friends tackle bizarre role playing game products that make them wonder, "What the fuck!?" From the early days of Gygax to contemporary role playing games, none will be spared.