D&D poems [starring the Umber Hulk, Gelatinous Cube and girls]
The muse has hit me like a vorpal sword.
I've been working on some poems for an upcoming comedy performance (called "Funny As a Crutch," Mon, June 13 in Boston)—and it was impossible to resist the temptation to pen some D&D-inspired poems. For those of you who can'y make it, or for those of you itching for a sneak peek, here's a taste of some of the material I'll be reading. Note to 4th edition D&D players: I'll be kicking it old school).
Wizard: "Does this work on the ladies?"D&D Haiku
1.
Sister Jess takes a peek:
dice, graph paper, B.O.
Too many teenage trolls.
2.
Shopping list: rope, sack,
chain mail bikini.
D&D or
is this S&M?
3.
Roll the dice. The world
stops. Sorry, page 7 says
fire-
ball won’t work on girls.
Umber Hulk Love Poem
The Umber Hulk, in love.
Another tiff. Another row. Another rift. Predictably, I was sulking in my burrow, dragging earth with iron claws. Chucking loam. OK, I was tunneling down, I was deconstructing love, mulling who knew how to better cook tubers and shrews (me), whose turn it was to weekend with the other’s in-laws (she). Why this union was corridor-like, one path, blind. I reached the end of my passageway, Some unbudgeable rock. But suddenly, my she-hulk arrived. She removed her bedroom gloves and cracked her knuckles. “What about your nails?” I asked. She shrugged and burrowed beside me. I paused to I admire her large, bipedal form, that insectoid aberration, her ape-like build. Her body a dull black, shading to yellowish gray on her front. Lovely. Her ivory mandibles. Still ivory. Twenty years and I still admired her ability to confuse any creature that sees all four of her eyes. I still desired her. “My umber love,” I cooed. “You’re my knight, ” she replied. We hunkered down. We dug. We hunted for soft sweet human flesh together. Hobbits taste good too.
A Rap for Geeky Heroes
Let’s say you’re Harry, Frodo, Leia, or Sam,
Matthew, Mark, Luke or Han,
Or Perseus, Jason, the Tin Man,
Jesus? Kenny of South Park? Another sacrificial lamb.
You’re bored in your corner of the galaxy – Kansas,
Tatooine -- raised by Bilbo, nagged by Aunt Beru,
‘cuz your parents, they gone, they ancient history, they been embalmed.
Your mother, probably she was Bambi's Mom.
You might got some prophecy, scar on your forehead.
Cursed, perchance. Wimpy. Better off dead.
So, our brave hero, you’ll need a mentor to guide you,
someone to edify, inculcate, enlighten your mind.
I’ll teach you Jedi dice tricks, Jedi beer pong tricks,
the chicanery of Cheetos, Doritos, Dew,
how to cast spells like Force Field, Atmospheric Dry Ice,
Glowing Blue Saber (or Sword), How to Be Nice,
How To Hit Armor Class Zero –- THACO!
I’ll be with you, beside you, crit your attacks,
you levitate rocks and I’ll be chillin’ piggyback.
You want to hunt for heart, courage, brain-ing?
Now’s the time to remove your +2 Wheels of Training.
I think I’ve prepped you to accept danger unaided,
set out the door, flip down your blast shield,
take the first step unafraid-ed, so launch your path,
level up from hobbits to jawas, pixels to bloodbath,
stop at this tavern, then wear a disguise,
you’ll know thine enemy, he’s the one with red eyes.
Embark on your voyage, your crusade, your trek to a far-away earth,
middle-, high- or low-, you’ll walk and you’ll walk, lose some of that girth,
and finally arrive at your destiny, that one doom, that ironic fate,
that M. Night Shy-a-malan-ding-dong for which you can’t wait.
The final reel twist? No, I am your father.
And Frodo is your step-brother (I boinked our evil step-mother),
who, by the way, had sex with Voldermort.
And Gary Gygax is your father. Got it?
You sigh. Your brow doth furrow. Boo hoo. Your puppy eyes widen.
You ask, “What must I do?” Poo or poo not, I reply. There is no try.
You will take the Ring, to Mordor, or to East Timor.
WTF. Join the Peace Corps. I don’t care what you quest for.
Any damn thing. Just get the flip outta here.
The Gelatinous Cube Vs. Laurie McClintock
What are the moves of the gelatinous cube?
Few.
Undetected, invisible, pretty much
a 10 by 10 block of Jello.
“Gelatinous cubes are nearly transparent
and are difficult to see (and thus surprise on 1-3),”
so says then Monster Manual, page 43.
Yet I like the idea of the cube, waiting, eating time,
hoping for lost damsels to blunder by in the dark,
like me, on the couch, in my living room.
alone with Laurie McClintock.
The Electric Light Orchestra plays on the turntable,
“You got me runnin' goin' out of my mind,
You got me thinkin' that I'm wastin' my time.
Don't bring me down,no no no no no.”
The “nos’” accompany the rising of crescent of cicadas outside
on this sad, after-dark August of the Carter Administration.
The gelatinous cube is silent.
The gelatinous cube makes no move.
The artists copped out. On page 43, there is no picture of the gelatinous cube.
Just a blank space, like my angsty ribcage.
Like that useless weapon between my legs, invisible to girls.
“The gelatinous cube is one of scavengers not uncommon
in dungeons,” says page 43. “As these monsters travel about
they sweep up metallic and other items which are ‘indigestible’ to them.”
I want to collect Laurie McClintock’s necklace.
Snare her earrings with my tongue.
Unlock that rusty chastity belt, or gauchos, or whatever.
I wonder, what sort of breasts sprout under her sweater?
Stalactites, or stalagmites?
I scavenge her in the dungeon of my mind.
“You got me shakin' got me runnin' away,”
You get me crawlin' up to you everyday,
Don't bring me down,no no no no no ...”
The gelatinous cube still makes no move. Wisely:
“If a gelatinous cube touches (hits) an opponent,
a saving throw versus paralyzation must be made,
or the creature touched anesthetized for 5-20 melee rounds.”
“The ‘cube then surrounds the victim,
secretes digestive fluids, and digests a meal.”
Laurie McClintock has been anesthetized.
I want to secrete on her, then eat her.
Then Laurie McClintock fights back.
“Gelatinous cubes can be hit by all forms of weapons,” page 43 declares,
by which it means swords, axes, daggers, morning stars.
Pole arms. Just not “electricity, fear,” or “holds.”
Alas, Laurie McClintock’s hold is powerless on me.
“You're lookin' good just like a snake in the grass,
One of these days you're gonna break your glass.”
I realize ELO makes no sense. The cicadas taper off.
Lights blind the driveway. “No no no no no.”
High beams shimmer through the living room window.
My glass body shimmers. It’s Laurie McClintock’s Mom.
The fight is over. She gets up. Goes to the door.
The gelatinous cube makes no move.
D&D Grammar Lesson
To be. Conjugate. Repeat after me.
I am an elf.
You are an elf.
He is an elf. Is she an elf?
We are all elves, and dwarves, and halflings.
I really hope she is an elf.
There are too many he-elves around here.
Simple present: I have five pounds of dice.
Simple past: I killed thirteen orcs.
Conditional: If I had known your mom couldn’t drive, I would have brought the pizza. Dork.
Present perfect: Ethan has played D&D every Friday night for five years straight.
Future perfect: By senior year I will have kissed a girl. A real one.
Adjectives: Write the comparative and superlative forms of the following adjectives: Awesome: Awesomer. Awesomest. Evil. Eviler, Evilest. Wicked, More wicked. Cool.
Vocabulary:
Open your Dungeon Masters guides to page 123.
Use any of the following “prostitute phrases” in a sentence:
Slovenly trull, cheap trollop, saucy tart, wanton wench,
expensive doxy, aged madam, rich panderer, brazen strumpet.
Repeat.
Dialogue:
Caroline: Zorg, est-ce que tu veux aller au cinema avec moi?
(Caroline: Zorg, do you want to go to the movies with me?)
Zorg: Non. Me detest toi.
(Zorg: Non. Me hate you.
Zorg est malfaisant chaotique.
(Zorg is chaotic evil.)
Conjunctions. Co-ordinate conjunctions include: and, but, or, nor, for and yet.
I became ill by eating the Cheetos and drinking all the Dew.
The jocks should have arrived or will be arriving soon to take our dice away.
The Dungeon Master had promised to not to kill us but did not keep his promise.