Zack: You rush into your master's control room and discover that several lights on his console are flashing a distressing red. You also notice a pile of slips of paper lying on the floor outside his slot.
Steve: The condom must have messed him up! "Meow I have my revenge on you!" I laugh as I brandish my buster sword. "Prepare to meow meet your maker!"
Zack: He does not react.
Steve: I pick up some of the slips of paper and read them.
Zack: They all feature numbers that seem to count upwards. There is a little symbol next to the numbers. Three triangles. It's the symbol for radiation.
Steve: Will fake crying protect me from radiation?
Zack: In this game, yes, but you long passed the limit for human tolerances. While you were sleeping radioactive dust from the ruptured C14 vent continued to circulate in the ventilation. The entire bunker is contaminated and you have received a lethal dose. You also receive massive stress damage, triggering your trauma.
Steve: "Meow no!" I begin to poop uncontrollably, soiling myself in front of my master.
Zack: You have failed as a maid in the most humiliating way imaginable. And, less importantly, you have also died while shitting. A buster sword lies beside a very buff skeleton in a bunker far below the earth. Tea will not be served. Shelves will not be dusted. It is the end of the line.
"Really, Holmes!" I dropped into my seat, shocked. "You are remarkably tall! What are you, six foot six? Six foot eight?"
As the 19th century diver approaches a giant clam, a flash of brilliant golden light flares from within the shell. I emerge in a swirl of bubbles and do the timeless universal underwater hand signals for the following: ZODIAC KILLER, KKK, BLOOD OF YOUTH
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.