Time Wizard Lawrence and Friends: Episode 2

Time Wizard Lawrence and the Time Wizards: Episode Two.



Okay, /tg/. Story time. Again. I really don’t know where to begin.

First, the players. There’s Grant, he’s been a longtime friend and player in my tabletop group. Nate, whose apartment we used for this game, has also been a longtime friend and player in the tabletop group. Tark, Nate’s friend, I have only met once before. I don’t know him very well, but he’s a clever guy from what I remember.

At this point, it’s about 10PM and we’re all trying to determine Doctrines. Our four Doctrines for tonight were as follows:

DOCTRINE UNO: “When you slap the table for a Time Moment Declaration, you must drink a large swig of your beer. Failure to do so will result in drinking the remainder of the beer. You’re also still a bitch.”

DOCTRINE ZWEI: “No elbows on the table during a Time Moment. For each elbow on the table, take away 2 points from your next roll. Max 3 penalties per Time Moment.”

DOCTRINE TROJKA: “If you beat the Time Master’s roll by 15 points, you may change the coefficient on friction between two objects (make the floor slippery to anything wearing rubber, for example).”

DOCTRINE FOUR: “The following words are prohibited: ‘Drink,’ ‘Drank,’ and ‘Drunk.’ Really, any word that starts with DR and ends with NK. If you violate this Doctrine, you must imbibe most heavily of your beer. You must also randomize your next Time Wizard power. If the Time Master violates this rule, he must randomize the power of a Time Wizard who fails to roll higher than the Time Wizard.”

A familiar Doctrine surrounded by three strange new Doctrines. And believe me, they all get used.

Now for our Time Wizards. They are:

Grant AKA: Saturday at 10 o’clock in the Evening. His powers include “Crush the vision,” “Dump the load,” “Steal the object,” “Drain the vein,” and “Move the brew.”

Nate AKA Tuesday at Noon o’clock in the Noon. His powers are “Make it sweet,” “Tie the knot,” “Shoot the breeze,” “Reject the call,” and “Kick the ball.”

Finally, we have Tark AKA Thursday at Midnight o’clock in the Morning/Evening. His powers consist of “Bend the resolve,” “Replace the chair,” “Spank the monkey,” “Persuade the cat,” and the extremely controversial “Argue the semantics.”

You’ll notice there are some repeated powers from the last game. Well, to save time (many of us had to work or go to class in the morning), I just let them snake my giant list of Verb the Nouns through themselves. These are what they picked.

With this all in mind, we replenished our brews (Sam Adams Oktoberfest for Nate, Grant, and myself—milk and snickerdoodles for Tark) and I began to weave the setting:

THE DISTANT FUTURE. THE YEAR 2000. The SETTING: THE UNDERWATER FORTRESS OF ZUUL THE EVERLASTING: ATLANTIC CITY—FORMERLY ATLANTIS CITY.

Our three Time Wizards were scumming around a sleazy future bar when—suddenly—rogue half-seahorse/half-starfish bandits busted into the joint. They immediately started shooting up the place with their baby starfish ninja star star throwers. Distant future water brews had been spilled and prized octopus whores began screaming from their super sexy beaks.

“Okay guys,” I begin. “What do you guys d-“

“I comfort one of the octo-whores,” Tark interrupts, his face not looking altogether eager—but not entirely disinterested either.

“Okay, Thursday goes to comfort one of the pucker-poppers. Saturday? Tuesday? What do you two do?”

“I’m gonna hide under the table and finish my water brew,” Grant says.

Nate nods. “Yeah, me too.”

So, while Thursday calms the octoslut to the point that she coos softly from that plump beak and the Tues/Sat dream team begin guzzling future beer under a table, eight half-seahorse/half-starfish bandits point their baby starfish ninja star star throwers at the half-trout/half-mermaid bartender. In their ancient tongue, they demand all of the bartender’s future sea cash. They seem to be especially incensed because of the bartender’s race: see, he appears to just be a very large trout, but that’s because of his half-mermaid blood. Really. He wouldn’t be making this stuff up, guys. If he could get away with being full trout, he totally would.

Before they fire, Grant slaps the table. “I WOULD LIKE TO DECLARE A TIME MOMENT.” Beer and milk are quaffed. The game truly begins.

All three players submit their chosen Time Wizard powers. The Chaos Rating is given a 2—this is pretty fucking weird. Dice are thrown all about and it’s a mad scramble on all sides. Nate and Tark are both caught with their elbows on the table—a violation of DOCTRINE ZWEI. The totals are rolled once the betting phase is over: Grant 17, Tark 9-2=7, Lawrence 4, Nate 3-2=1. Not bad. Let’s see what they did.

Grant/Saturday: “Move the brew.” Success. Saturday moves the future water brews into the bloodstreams of all the bandits. Death by alcohol poisoning seems imminent.

Tark/Thursday: “Spank the monkey.” Success. Thursday changes the mechanics of the baby starfish ninja star star throwers to be Flintstonian—that is, the mechanics of the star throwers are controlled by tiny half-seamonkey/half-regularmonkey creatures inside the star throwers. Well, the half-seamonkey/half-regularmonkey mechanics get “spanked” by the other inner-workings of the guns. And get eviscerated. Which apparently makes the star throwers not operate properly anymore. Okay, whatever.

Nate/Tuesday: “Shoot the breeze.” Failure. Future Drew Breeze, who was in Distant Future Underwater Atlantic City for a diplomatic mission along with the New Orleans Saints football team, is shot by the baby starfish ninja star star throwers—which are now blowing up like Glocknades due to their jammed mechanics via monkey spankage.

No Time Dilation is declared, so the Time Moment ends and time resumes as normal.

Before I began describing the events the proceeded after time resumed, Nate makes an off-hand remark: “I bet that ‘Move the brew’ power really messed up those bandits.”

“Yeah,” I replied, chuckling. “They’re drunk as fuck, dude.”

“DOCTRINE FOUR!!!!” they yell, pointing their pointy pointer fingers at me.

“You motherfuckers,” I murmur, taking a long swig from my beverage.

Now, next time someone failed to beat my roll during the end of the next slap phase, their power would be randomized. Not terrible for me, but it certainly forced me to improvise more than usual.

In any case, the scene: the half-seahorse/half-starfish bandits are all dead due to the immense amount of future alcohol poisoning. As they fall, their baby starfish ninja star star throwers become jammed with half-seamonkey/half-regularmonkey guts. And then they explode, with all of their sharp gears and sprockets and monkey bones impaling themselves into Future Drew Breeze. As Dying Future Drew Breeze slumps against the ground, the entire New Orleans Saints team busts into the scummy future bar—and boy are they pissed.

Two hands. Two voices. “I’D LIKE TO DECLARE A TIME MOMENT” and “I WANNA TIME MOMENT” were said in unison—the former voice belonging to Tark and the latter to Nate. After politely reminding Nate of the proper way to start a Time Moment (“It’s ‘I would like to declare a time moment,’ you dumb shit”), I allowed them to begin writing their chosen powers. The slap phase was a bloody one: with the Chaos Rating at 4, everyone could bet up to 4 dice (minimum: 2). I was particularly lucky during this slap phase, grabbing 2d12 and 2d4. We rolled our dice and got our totals: Tark 17, Lawrence 15, Grant 14, Nate 10. One success and two failures. Time to get weird.

Tark/Thursday: “Argue the semantics.” Success. When I wrote down this power, I knew it’d be a little OP. Tark does exactly as expected: he argues that the New Orleans Saints team that busts into the bar wouldn’t necessarily have to be the same team that Dying Future Drew Breeze typically played on. There could very easily be a middle school New Orleans Saints team. I did not specifically say –which- New Orleans Saints team busted in; thus, the bar is now full of pissed off 13 year olds.

Grant/Saturday: “Drain the vein.” Failure. I decide that Dying Future Drew Breeze is a pretty vain dude; so, I drain his huge ego into all of the middle schoolers. They now believe that if they kill the Time Wizards, they will get their Superbowl Rings. Uh oh.

Nate/Tuesday: (Randomized) “Reject the call.” Failure. Dying Future Drew Breeze rejects the call from Death. He is now Zombie Future Drew Breeze. And he’s hungry for Time Wizard brains.

“Fuck it,” Grant says, backhanding the air. “Dilate this shit.”

Tark and Nate hesitate, then nod. They Dilate Time. The Chaos Rating is now 6: up to 6 dice may be thrown, with a minimum bet of 3. This slap phase was even more hectic than before, with all sorts of dice being tossed about. The results: Grant 31, Lawrence 19, Nate 14, Tark 10. One success and two failures. This is a pattern I like to see.

Grant/Saturday: “Crush the vision.” Success. The middle school New Orleans Saints team’s vision of ever winning a Superbowl is now crushed. Their bloodlust is temporarily sated as they become hormonal, babbling, depressed messes.

Nate/Tuesday. “Shoot the Breeze.” Failure. The planets above Atlantic City realign in a most malign formation. This particular formation of planets shoots Zombie Future Drew Breeze full of gamma rays, turning him into Hulk Zombie Future Drew Breeze. Sheesh.

Tark/Thursday. “Persuade the cat.” Failure. Suddenly, sentient MRI machines drop into the bar and are persuaded by Hulk Zombie Future Drew Breeze to fight for him. They do so. MRI machines are the things that do CAT scans, in case you were wondering how I created that jump in logic.

At this moment, Tark gets up from the table and declares that he must go home. I decide that Thursday at Midnight o’clock in the Morning/Evening the Time Wizard realizes that it is currently Thursday at Midnight o’clock and that wants to rock this octo-whore with his increased powers; thus, he disappears in the midst of the Dilated Time Moment. Tuesday and Saturday fully understand and respect Thursday’s decision, as he had picked the best looking octopus slut in all of Future Atlantic City.

With that, Nate and Grant both agree: they must go deeper. The Time Moment is Dilated one final time.

Chaos Rating: 8.

Remaining dice: barely enough to make the minimum.

Hands: sore.

BAC: rising.

This slap phase was a vital phase. A brutal phase. Every die meant more than its predecessors. Evenly the despised four-sided die was coveted for its ability to add even a single point to an overall score. Beers were carefully placed out of way. “I don’t want you to see this,” I whispered to my beer, as I kissed its lip—perhaps for the last time.

Unheard of tactics were utilized. This phase was known as “The Scoop Phase,” as players attempted to arm sweep entire swaths of precious dice into their possession. Words were said that cannot be unsaid. Bruises covered wrists. Beer… Beer was spilled.

Slap phase… Slap phase never changes.

Nate 23, Grant 21, Lawrence 4. Two successes, no failures. Except for my own. The Time Wizards smile at one another and point out DOCTRINE TROJKA: “If you beat the Time Master’s roll by 15 points, you may change the coefficient on friction between two objects (make the floor slippery to anything wearing rubber, for example).” They had both beaten my score.

Nate/Tuesday:

DOCTRINE TROJKA SHENANIGANS: The plastic tracks and magnets inside of the MRI machines. The magnets stop moving inside of the tracks, making the MRIs inert and unable to assist Hulk Zombie Future Drew Breeze.

“Kick the ball.” Success. The loss of the MRIs is a metaphorical “kick in the balls” for Hulk Zombie Future Drew Breeze. He feels as if he will not win this fight, which eliminates his Hulk form. Now he is just Zombie Future Drew Breeze.

Grant/Saturday:

DOCTRINE TROJKA SHENANIGANS: The floor and anyone wearing footwear with rubber soles. The floor now becomes slippery for anyone wearing footwear with rubber soles (the sobbing middle schoolers).

“Steal the object.” Success. Grant claims that he will “steel” an object, turning the object into steel. He does so with Zombie Future Drew Breeze’s brain. Zombie Future Drew Breeze’s brain becomes a hunk of steel. Zombie Future Drew Breeze thus becomes Dead Future Drew Breeze.

Nate and Grant smile. They feel pretty good about this. With this being the last Time Dilation possible, time now resumes with each effect playing out one immediately after the other. Now, imagine you are the half-trout/half-mermaid bartender, standing behind the bar’s counter. The last thing he had seen before time had stopped a second time was all of his future booze disappearing, the bandits collapsing, their weapons exploding into Future Drew Breeze, and a group of football players who may or may not have been the professional NFL team.

Now, imagine you are the half-trout/half-mermaid bartender. In succession, Schrödinger’s Saints suddenly choose to become middle schoolers, the children become bloodthirsty, Future Drew Breeze rises from the floor, the bloodthirsty children suddenly start sobbing,  Zombie Future Drew Breeze becomes bigger (and greener), fucking MRI machines capable of thought and emotion bust from the ceiling  and are convinced by Hulk Zombie Future Drew Breeze to fight for him, the MRI machines suddenly die, Hulk Zombie Future Drew Breeze gets sad and becomes smaller again, the weeping children eat shit as they slip around, and Zombie Future Drew Breeze falls forward--his skull cracking open to reveal a brain-sized lump of steel.

All of this happens in somewhere around five seconds.

The bar is quiet. It smells strange. Like wasted future water brew. Like hopes raised and crushed within a second. Like gamma rays. Like dead famous future football players. Like ectoplasm. Like truckstop sushi. Like tasty pe—wait a minute.

“Like ectoplasm”?

The ceiling—what was left of it, anyway—is torn apart. Walls are disintegrated. The half-trout/half-mermaid screams an ancient future curse and hides inside of the bar counter. He knows what is about to happen.

Enter a floating baby, an aura of sickly purple-pink surrounding him. This baby would be otherwise mundane—if it were not for its face. The baby’s face appears to be that of an ugly grown man, his mouth twisted in a happily evil snarl. He surveys the surrounding mess as he bobs up and down in his constant hovering.

“I AM ZUUL THE EVERLASTING,” the baby booms. “YOU HAVE CAUSED GREAT CHAOS TO MY BEAUTIFUL UNDERWATER FORTRESS OF THE FUTURE. NOW YOU WILL DIE, TIME WIZARDS.”

It turns out that the Time Wizards are currently in a universe in which the events of Ghostbusters II went very VERY differently. The Ghostbusters of this universe, unable to convince the people of New York to believe, were unable to stop Zuul (Vigo Von Homburg Deutschendorf in the guise of the Terror Dog) from possessing Baby Oscar. Now, years later, Zuul/Vigo controls the underwater fortress of Atlantic City as he awaits his baby form to grow into man form.

What will the Time Wizards do? Well, that’ll have to wait til next time, faithful viewers! For this is the end of TIME WIZARDS: EPISODE TWO.

“El tiempo de los magos es acabado!”


-Time Wizard Lawrence