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spank #736

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#736 <- dudley did 140!awards! ->


random insanity
Roguelikes
anchors! -> while under the influence, mistake <- anchors!
25 minutes, 22 seconds. -> <- 10:40:24 pm, monday, march 3rd, 2008 pst
eyeballed 181 times
Roguelikes. Deceptively simple to start, painfully brutal to finish. Like a fly that lays its eggs on a ripe peice of forgotten steak, so does the roguelike player toss countless greenhorn adventurers down to the unforgiving caverns with the hopes and dreams of finally collecting the Crown of the Cauldron King. Each egg hatches and gives birth to a stinking worm that is hoping and dreaming to have the good fortune to be born on sewage, just as each adventurer traverses his first floors as a weak, ineffective lump beating down what monsters he can reach hoping and dreaming that it will drop its first peice of magical equipment. Loading himself up with as much useful equipment he can find he rockets down to the floors below him, while the maggot eats and grows fat. But the fat ones, more noticeable, catch the eye of birds. So to follow suit the adventurer has bogged himself and his rationality down with glowing peices of chainmail and badass viking swords, making him charge at enemies that could tear him down with a bit of effort. But the maggot's luck holds out and soon it has reached the stage where all its so far meaningless existance has led to. Wings. Flying. Getting the Fuck Out of Here. The adventurer has all his best equipment. He has reached the halfway point. The new frontier. The mini-boss. On both sides, more enemies to worry about, new feats to accomplish, more pitfalls to look out for. They take ready themselves and charge. They spit acid on and sponge up brand new armor and tridents that are whole worlds better than the ones theyve got now. They plunge their neutronium battleaxe deep into a giant swinging a massive rolled up newspaper. Then they reach the end. The last floor and the chance to beat the game. The rotten steak and the chance to lay eggs. Thousands of others, and they are the ones to finally make it. Eggs are lain and demons are slain.



you can e-mail Dudley at -> rattar at lardpirates which is dotted with a com -- or hop on contact page

- Pissed Off Cat <- 6:18:58 am, wednesday, march 12th, 2008 pdt

- Dudley <- 11:39:53 am, wednesday, march 12th, 2008 pdt <- (updated 6:07:50 pm, fri, may 2nd, 2008 pdt)
boozin' and writin' dont do me no favors.




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