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Showing posts with label Gremlins. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gremlins. Show all posts

Don't fear the Reaper - fear us!

After deciding to implant the dead body with a smartphone, tucked nicely somewhere under the stitches from the recent organ transplant, Special Agents Mulligan and Cully headed to Providence to follow up on another lead.

In a cottage somewhere in the woods, we found one of the other transplant cases, a "tortured artist", who was still semi-coherent. He was cuffed to a woodburning stove and tranquilised. Meanwhile, Cully looked at his paintings, lost 5 Sanity, and had to have a breather outside.

That's when the remaining two transplantees showed up ... and we had to barricade ourselves inside the artist's bungalow. Axes were involved. Cully sneaked out of the back door, aiming to get to the stolen car the transplantees had brought with them. If the mastermind's head was in it, we could destroy it, and no one would have to die.

Well, the axe-wielding maniac had to be taken out, and the 12-year-old girl unfortunately noticed the not-stealthily-sneaking FBI agent and started shooting. Fortunately, she missed. Everyone else, however, didn't.

And then we lived happily ever after, humming along to Don't Fear the Reaper ...

I guarantee at least ONE person in history has made love to a riverboat

As one of our players was missing, we decided to save the conclusion of the Changeling adventure for next week, seeing as how the character in question is rather pivotal to the story. Instead, we decided to get going with the next Deadlands adventure, which was due to start after we finished brainalysing the people who killed Tag all those years ago, and who may or may not have had something to do with Alysiana's amnesia. What we ended up with, aside from beef jerky, was a very bizarre session, to say the least. We alighted a train and took a riverboat over to the very religious City of Lost Angels. Slick seemed to get oddly excited about riverboats and then did his best to incur the wrath of the city's population by blaspheming his li'l heart out.

Meanwhile, Lucky Reynard was trying to get hold of dynamite, and had a spell backfire on him, which set him all aglow; Gunney decided to lay low (he knows about California all too well); and it was found that Mary's "old country" might not have been Ireland, but in fact ... Jamaica.

Like we said, bizarre.