Can you even imagine being the poor alien sod responsible for auditing an earthling spaceship’s spending allowance? Like:
“I see, and why do you require many tubes of white plant flavoured paste?”
“Oh well, if we don’t rub that on our teeth twice daily the bacteria living in my mouth will begin to devour me teeth.”
“…Noted.”
“I have also noticed several large shipments of specific medications, and a variety of individually packaged absorbent material – however injury records do not show sufficient numbers to justify these recurrent deliveries.”
“Ah, yeah, it’s not really an injury per say. As part of our natural reproductive cycle approximately half the population will shed the lining of one of their internal organs and expel it.”
“…that is the most horrifying thing that I have ever heard.”
“Yeah.”
“Does such a process not hurt?”
“That’l be what the medication’s for. Pain killers for the cramps, birth control to stop the process.”
“…and your reasoning behind the fully functional, high-tech entertainment system?”
“Okay, that we could probably do without. But in our defence that was actually insisted on as a standard feature of all fleet-ships expected to encounter Terrans. Admiral Plo’Kaght insisted on it. Something about bored humans and a an illegal betting ring featuring a cleaning robot with a knife strapped to it going up against a human with a mop?”
“…I believe I should speak with my superiors.”
I love how Stabby the Roomba has become such a consistent in-joke among these sorts of blogs.
Galactic hero stabby the roomba: his legend continues
in superman adventures #19, there’s a villain named multi-face who can convincingly disguise himself as anyone, even tricking dna tests and x-ray vision. Superman initially can’t stop him
and the only reason he gets caught is because multiface decides to disguise himself as, of all people, CLARK KENT i’m screaming
why do villains always mess up so badly
Clark Kent attending Bruce Wayne’s yacht party where Bruce told Clark to wear his clothes and……
Ta-Da!
Sard borken
calling the people at the party Bruce’s “fake friends” as if he’s Bruce’s only real friend and he’s low key jealous
Okay I absolutely love this comic but I gotta offer a correction because I got the chance to read this recently and the real context is even better:
Clark and Bruce have never met at this point. Clark ended up on this yaught by accident and the people there just assumed he was Bruce Wayne making an entrance because none of them have ever met him. Clark isn’t even Superman at this point, he’s still just a twenty-something from kansas with super powers trying to figure his shit out, and he just stumbles into a billionaire’s yaught party and then foils an assassination attempt on accident.
The best part is that Bruce finds out about this incident bc he obviously has surveilance on the parties he never attends and he’s just completely fucking baffled. I’m pretty sure this incident is why he knows Superman’s secret identity. What a fucking first impression. Absolutely legendary.
I’m just a new baby DM but I like to think I know enough about storytelling to weigh in on this one, because It Bugs Me.
If you as the DM call for a perception check, you have fucking started something. You need to know what you are going to say whether they flub this roll or fucking ace it. You don’t get to say ‘roll perception’ and then respond to a 12 with ‘uh, never mind.’ NO! The characters have already Had A Feeling About This! That’s why you’re asking for a perception check instead of just using their passive perception!
Everyone on this fucking planet has whipped around to see an ominous shadow moving except it was actually just a bug. Use that!! Have perception checks where the cigar is actually just a cigar!! Or else your perception checks where a cigar is actually a mimic are just irritating your players by telling them something’s up but they don’t get to fucking act on it!!
I may not be an experienced DM but I am a garbage theatre student and I fucking know what it looks like when someone in a scene drops the fucking energy ball.
You don’t just stick a gun on the mantel and then go ‘oh wait never mind’ or Anton Chekhov rises from his grave to fistfight you behind a gay bar you didn’t know existed at three in the morning after an ill-advised Jaeger bomb.
backup blog in case tumblr explodes 