Weekend Update

Friday
Ran the Vampire TT, finished off the story. I tried something pretty risky, but I think it paid off. Cheryl’s Nos is an oracle, so, when they walked into the Big Bad House Over Battle Creek, she got a flash. Once again, it was late, and I had to keep the volume down, but Marcus got to sing to her one last time. You can hear the song here: http://audio.msk.ru/waits/ra/rain_dogs/9.ram and read the lyrics here: http://audio.msk.ru/waits/lyrics/rain_dogs.html#9.

The story’s over, but there’s a lot left unfinished, and they begged me to run again on Saturday. But, I had other plans…

(I need a woman with a VOICE for a cameo in the next story. Unfortunately, all my invitations have been declined.) ::sniff::

(And yes, for those of you playing, that’s a hint.)

Saturday
As strange as it sounds, I ran a d20 game. No swords were drawn, no hit points were lost, no orks were killed. And it weren’t for lack of orks runnin’ about, neither.

They were nobles, on their way to the Senate. Standing on the steps was a contingent of orks who wanted to “coin land.” It created quite a sensation among the Senators. “Do they have the right to buy land?” “Do they have the right to be heard by the Senate?” “What happens if we let them buy land?” Lots of questions. Unfortunately, character creation took longer than I hoped, and I didn’t get to the cliff-hanger I wanted. But, everyone still had fun. And Shara showed up. That always makes my day.

Sunday and Monday
I honestly don’t remember Sunday. I can’t remember what I did or who I saw or anything. That’s my swiss cheese memory.

Monday was ‘s birthday, so we went out to eat with his wife and kids. We were at the 3rd street prominade (walking distance from my new apartment) when somebody snatched a backpack. Right in front of us. Stone’s throw. He took off. I took off after him. Full tilt. I was about to catch him when I heard someone yelling, “Sir! Sir! Stop! Don’t chase him!”

I thought it was a security guard or a cop. I stopped. Turned to look. And there’s this woman handing out flyers. “See our website!” she said. “We’re performance artists.”

They even had the balls to put one on our table. I sat down, shoved it off to the floor. The guy I was chasing walked by. “Thanks for not kicking my ass.”

I looked at him, winked, gave him my wicked smile. “I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

He walked away, shaken and stirred.

Folks, if you’re gonna do Discordian art, don’t be dumb about it. Remember the first rule of the con: “Never let the mark know you took him.”

Dolts.