“Keep your ears open; as I work up into speed, I’m going to work in ‘anal seepage’.”
“It was… last week?”
“Yes! We managed to play two weeks in a row!”
“What abut the time I missed one session and came back to no New York City?”
“What? I enjoyed the League of Catholic Superheroes and Thor.”
“How long was I across the threshhold?”
“Days.”
“I ate your rations.”
“Plus, halflings are extremely fertile?”
“You’re a halfling?”
“You were in there long enough that she evolved into a halfling.”
“If you take seven lefts, it’s the third corner on the right. That’s where I pooped.”
“It looked just like a latrine! Because I close my eyes when I’m in a latrine, because I’m afraid to poop.”
[long pause]
“Yeviny, what the fuck?!”
“Bryan can’t handle poop jokes.”
“I’m done.”
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
“How about you don’t talk?”
“My poop is like dark matter, because I don’t poop often, but when I do, it’s super-dense.”
“There is no plot. It died of old age years ago.”
“It says ‘speak nothing and go away.'”
“I’m not still Salvatine.”
“I wasn’t going to put my axe there.”
“Maybe it’s the hall of tribute BANDS.”
“It worked. It’s unlocked. Now shut the fuck up.”
“Our singing worked!”
“Oh god! If you keep singing, it might re-lock!”
“I hate to say this about something that’s been in your mouth, but that’s a divine magic item – ”
“It doesn’t taste divine.”
” – and I’d kind of like it.”
“Tastes kind of salty, in fact.”
“To be fair, I drink enough; it’s probably sterile.”
“I don’t think I want to give it to y’all. I think the wand is suddenly a twig.”
“Now I want it!”
“I summon expendable character for eating!”
“That treasure chest has a gun! Look out!”
“This is the fourth magic falcata we’ve found! My god, we must be following a magical falcata smith!”
“I don’t have…”
“Thumbs?”
“A pen.”
“Everybody knows the triceratops is an ambiturner!”
“‘That’s what spoor is, right?’ ‘No, put that down.'”
“Congratulations, Bryan. In a night of digressions, you have successfully digressed us into science. Uh… silence.”
“Why are you getting Bryan wet?”
“Because I’m not rolling any dice, and I have to keep my hands busy somehow.”
“No, no, we might win this encounter with 80s soft rock!”
“Have we settled on killing it? Have we tried diplomacy?”
“All right, this is now a swarm of triceratops.”
“I extend my arms to give it a triceratops hug!”
“You don’t have a weighted throwing guitar?”
“You’re putting your axes up there… Are you a ranger? Do you have favored enema?”
“That was just a warning trample.”
“Fire a warning trample across his nose!”
“Yeviny-poaching is a cottage industry…”
“It wants to have sex with you for money! It’s come whoring in!”
“Ever since we convinced him that there could be half a rope, he’s taken things too far.”
“He’s hitting me with a medusa!”
“John? What were you doing with that hammer? Why was it making tiny squeaking noises?”
“Hold on… I’m not actually dead.”
“Are you suggesting that the solution to me bleeding to death is exsanguination?”
“I’m not sure I like the idea of the ship’s surgeon playing ‘just the tip’ with me!”
“OK, that can’t be John. He’s not playing with his hammer any more.”
“I’m not saying it’s right or wrong; I’m just saying it’s not forbidden!”
“You could leave out the Jen and we’d be fine.”
“Then you make her responsible for that, and get yourself a phone from the 20th Century!”
“20th Century?”
“Hey, I’m hoping for the best for the guy.”
“I’ll be here, playing this game. And I’ll get farther than you guys do…”