Long time no post... I haven't had much to write about for a few months, but today I played the first session of what's looking to be a promising campaign. Afterwards we got to chatting and I admitted I had been thoroughly unrested for the game due to having discovered the strange and wonderful thing that is Omegle, in which you voluntarily dump yourself into a random chatroom with a random stranger. Yes, it's as masochistic as it sounds. Lots of horny men. Quite boring. One of my friends pointed me towards this strip from penny arcade (detailed exposition here). So I thought I'd vary the theme. I entered the chat room equipped only with this paragraph:
The dust sloughs off your boots as you enter the dimly lit saloon. The piano plinks away in the background of noisy cattlehands wasting their wages on two-dollar whisky and ten-dollar whores. But all of this fades into insignificance, for across the bar you see him, the man you've been hunting for all these months. At long last, he stands before you. He sways uneasily in his seat, having clearly over-indulged, but you feel not a hint of sympathy for the bastard. Crazy Zeke Williams...
A lot of instant disconnects. I got called a jerkoff. Several people asked me whether I was writing a novel, or assumed I was quoting something. Quite flattering. Some clearly had their own agenda, and pasted various links to sex links into the chat window as quickly as I pasted my western. But I did generate two gems. The first related the story of a young woman hunting down her sister's rapist. Having killed him, she is confronted by the Deputy, her former something (backstory was implied, but hardly explicit). In the end, she dies rather than facing a trial. It was actually one of the most fascinating gaming experiences I've had in ages.
Unfortunately, the computer ate the chat log. So you're going to have to content yourself with second place.
I will chase you across time and space for your crimes
You: The dust sloughs off your boots as you enter the dimly lit saloon. The piano plinks away in the background of noisy cattlehands wasting their wages on two-dollar whisky and ten-dollar whores. But all of this fades into insignificance, for across the bar you see him, the man you've been hunting for all these months. At long last, he stands before you. He sways uneasily in his seat, having clearly over-indulged, but you feel not a hint of sympathy for the bastard. Crazy Zeke Williams...
Stranger: reading
You: The piano picks up a familiar tune. A few of the boys sing along drunkenly.
Stranger: does he know I am looking for him, or is bhe oblivious?
You: Zeke belches.
Stranger: my actions depend on if he knows I am coming for him or not.
You: (You tell me.)
Stranger: he doesn't
Stranger: because I was stealthy
You: An argument seems to be brewing in one corner over a card game.
You: It settles down to dull grumbling.
Stranger: I use this distraction
Stranger: I walk around the opposite side of the room, while zeke looks at the argument
You: Zeke grunts, "More whisky, Sam..."
You: "Hoo boy!"
You: He laughs at what he imagines is his own wit.
Stranger: I signal my partner to set off the bar-room clearing distraction
Stranger: the distraction is an old-time flash-bang grenade
You: Your radio crackles.
Stranger: during the ensuing confusion, I take out my knife and gut Zeke from belly to throat and flee the scene
You: "You got ten minutes left, Captain. The wormhole's destabilising!"
Stranger: ten minutes? no problem
Stranger: I tell adam (partner) to high-tail it back to the wormhole
You: Your partner nods curtly as he lays the incineration charges on Zeke's body.
Stranger: too gruesome... ?
You: "No problem Captain. Just lemme mem-zap 'em."
Stranger: I say to adam: "this is what the man deserves for letting lose Barney the Dinosaur onto the world...AND inventing the teletubbies"
Stranger: no one who invents those things should be allowed to live
Stranger: ok adam, go for it. zap em
You: As the flames consume Zeke's body, Adam throws a few memory grenades at the startled denizens of the nineteenth century.
You: He rushes for the door to avoid the blast.
You: Someone says, "Now what in tarntion..."
You: BOOM!
You: You have been caught in the radius of a mem-zap.
Stranger: damn!
Stranger: wait, what in tarnation....
You: Standard protocol means Adam must abandon you.
Stranger: was adam caught too?
You have disconnected.
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