In the chaos-infested realm known only as James's Garage, one man faces the tide of empty cardboard boxes, forgotten furniture, old shoes that only kind of fit, abandoned bicycles, a bag of some unholy abomination labeled "s'mores flavored coffee" left by an old roommate and slightly mauled by a wild animal that lived in here for a little bit, what might actually be a dead possum (presumably deceased because he ate the s'mores flavored coffee), and more old shoes (marked by a trickling trail of evidence that seems to support the previous hypothesis)… One man prepares to PURGE. Our first opponent appears… It's a Waterstained 8 Foot Wide Furniture Box from the COVID years! Waterstained 8 Foot Wide Furniture Box Alignment: Plague Hitpoints: 250 Special: Waterstain might actually be non-negligible quantities of dying possum poop. Furniture Box uses EAT UP AN UNNECESSARY AMOUNT OF SPACE FOR FIVE YEARS. G...
Some more Vim for you, fresh from the fetid jungles of the imagination! ( Read Part One here. ) Stave spoke to me. I thought I was dreaming at first, in the clearing where we had fled after giving up the cavern to the tide of serpents. (I saw them writhing on the carcass of the water beast as we retreated: squirming by the dozen into its open mouth.) Mist rising off the Fell masked our movements, though we heard the creep of creatures all around, and the grunting, croaking breaths of great shapes that loomed darkly in the fog. Three times we would have left Stave to run, but Slightly tried to drag him by herself, silent and wild eyed, and Honest would not leave her also. Once, we heard the whispered voices of the luparii, and the rumbling growl of whatever answered, and we pressed our faces to the mist-soaked mulch that makes the forest floor and lay as still as corpses (which well we soon may be) until they passed us by, two light of foot and...