Alternative consoles (e.g. Ouya), arcades, board gaming, card games, cross-platform, pen & paper, pinball, retro gaming, tabletop, and any other form of gaming that doesn't fit the other categories can be discussed here.
You guys are walking down the street when you all realize at the same time for some reason that you’re all down to, like, one piece of gum. Kiwi's got a ballroom dance competition in three hours, Oleg Farkas (Kong) has to pick up his triplets from school soon, and Shoe has to meet his parole officer. Point is, you really need to get some gum or it's gonna be a problem.
One of you notices a greasy little mongrel of a building across the street called JUST BUBBLEGUM STORE which is absolutely suspicious, but you make the brilliant decision to cross and head in anyway. The heavyweight steel door (suspicious!) glides open effortlessly. The shop is threadbare and filthy, with little to indicate a place of business, but there's a clerk at the back, next to a table bearing a sign that says IS FREE GUM. YOU TAKE.
You're all about halfway in before realizing the clerk is actually a cardboard standee of a young Dean Stockwell with a fu-manchu moustache. Before you can react, the front door swings shut and the floor rumbles a little as some huge mechanism engages underfoot.
Surprise! The door's locked. From outside, a loud knock and a muffled “Keheheh stupid mouseys. Is mouse trap. Which one is RAT?”
A glint of metal (a key?) slides under the door, skitters across the room and promptly slips down a drain hole. “Bool's eye. Keheheh.”
You're relieved to discover there's enough gum for all of you on the table. But what now?
[My name is Oleg Farkas. My triplets are Hanna, Nora, and Zoe—they're 6.]
Dog dammit, this always happens!
I grab my share of the gum off the table (8 is as many pieces as I can fit in my custom-made leather gum-wallet, or else I might not have been as inclined to share the rest), then sidle over to the drain to see if I can catch a glimpse of what that shiny metal thing was without getting wet.
Son of a ditch slipped something into the room with us!
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Oleg has a hard time making out what, exactly, fell in there. A pulpy, waterlogged mess makes getting a better look impossible, but it's also keeping the object from being lost in the plumbing. The drain plate is secured tightly with two flathead screws.
[Edward Millowitsch (32) is prepared for the Annual Ballroom Dance Championship by wearing his fine tuxedo and white silk gloves.]
He carefully takes 7 sticks of gum, one by one, and places them into his ornated, silver gum case that looks a bit like a pocket lighter. It has the initials D.M. carved into it's side. He slips it into his breast pocket.
I really don't have time for this sort of thing right now, you know.
He carefully removes his right glove, bows down and carefully lifts the rug. As he does half of his face seems to squeeze into wrinkles.
Edward is repulsed as dozens of silverfish scatter in all directions toward whatever crook or crack they can find. There is a heavy iron hatch with a three-digit combination tumbler by the handle.
[Barry Brometheus Gummati - otherwise known as B.B.Gum.]
Barry's first instinct is to run over to the spoons and put one to his nose. He sheepishly realizes no one else is playing spoons, and that there are more spoons than people anyways. He then goes to pick up some gum, 7 to be exact, packing them securely into his cargo pants.
Barry observes the others closely...
Currently reading: A Feast For Crows AND A Dance With Dragons
Barry hangs back by the rear table, watching with amusement as Edward and Oleg attempt to stay clean in this dank hovel. He's glad he wore his old shitkickers.
[Alright, with a "round" under our belts, I wanted to take a minute to ensure we're on the same page. Oleg wanted to sidestep the water, fancypants that he is, and that would have been a non-asskicking roll. Edward lifted the rug, which is a non-asskicking roll. Barry decided to stick a spoon to his nose, another non-asskicking roll. If you all did the die rolls, great job! If not, we are assuming successes and moving ahead. OLEG acts next. /Voice in the sky]
[I rolled a 2 for my last action, so I avoided getting wet for now.]
It's too bad the triplets aren't here—they wouldn't mind splashing around, and they could sneak their tiny little hands through that drain. These fat hands'll need a screwdriver. But first things first, I don't fancy drowning anytime in the next 78 years.
I attempt to grab the bucket off the table to place it under the dripping faucet, but [rolling a 9] the bucket slips out of my hands into the puddle in the middle of the room, splashing me from head to toe. One water droplet even flies far enough to land on the white glove that Edward had removed.
Aww, crickets!
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He gives Oleg a side-eye and puts the glove back on. He's not particulary skilled in hiding his annoyance.
Might aswell keep it on now. Hope Mindy got some spare ones later.
Edward brushes himself off with his hands as if everything about him would be dirty. Then he straightens himself and walks towards the hutch to take a closer look.
[Rolls a 9]
What even is all this rubbish!
Edward angrily removes a stick of gum from his case and starts chewing. (-1)
The hutch is about 30x30cm and is about 4 feet off the floor. The depth of the thing seems too shallow to hold much, and the handle is rusted and fused. There is no lock, however.
