YKB V (or how many times can you poop in one night before it becomes an old hat?)

 

 

Prologue:

As mentioned before (in some other site – the competition…), time passes by so quickly; you’d think someone used a haste spell on you (all you need right now is the cheap drum effect of the stand-up comedian). I mean, it was such a recent event, us looking for the fountain of youth, Kritz sleeping around the clock, Lucky getting lucky, Yoav getting lucky…

Good times…

 

 

Act I:

About this year’s YKB, it started with a jam, no matter what was your destination and time of departure, a million people decided to do the same… this led to a late faggy who kept trying to boss us around (“get the snacks from the shelter!!!”), not to mention his senile nature (“the screen! ARGH!!!” or “the keys! ARGH!!!” or “the buckets! ARGH!!!” – right next to the car you moron!). What can I tell you, after having to sit in the passenger sit with Hadi driving and then with Eyal, I’m so grateful for being alive… 

 

 

Act II:

Then came the unpacking, we learned Yoav will never be a bell-hop since it takes him forever to take a pillow out of the car (all that waiting in the middle of the highway – all you guys needed was a BBQ next to you and people would think it’s independence day…) I swear to god, if we weren’t there he’d still be in the midst of taking stuff out of the car…

 

 

Act III:

After rearranging the house we started playing, Lyren turned out to be a thief (OH NO!!! Who could have guessed?!??) and a vigilant mage (yea right) not to mention his great fighting skills (no palm nor paw will survive the wrath of the merchant guild!). I wasn’t surprised, as I was one to oppose the usual mega-dungeon (which is actually a mass of hack and slash/fun rooms), I think we can manage the elaborate plot and riddles (even Yoav – and don’t make that mopy face, ever since you started playing the insane, you contributed nothing when it came to actual role play or philosophical debates), it takes us forever to do the most simple of things, that’s what you get when you have a bunch of characters who are not Brun stupid – we think then we act…

 

 

Act IV:

The food. As we always do, yet again we brought enough to feed all of my x-girlfriends for a month (trust me, they were not all thin…), every now and then one of us rose as he heard an intoxicating call from the kitchen, I’m only glad I wasn’t one to yield to the cry of the matured ketchup…

 

 

Act V:

The toilette. I’m not about to go into my habits and quirks when it gets to that part of the house, still, it wasn’t the same, we actually had flushing capabilities, soap, towels… we also had one upset fag-tummy that rumbled on and on about relieving itself (8 times he went!), even in the middle of the night…

However, some things never change, you should have seen the mass of pubic curls on the sink (err… toilette – course of habit…) it was just like the bomb shelter.

 

 

Act VI:

The shower. I will skip the neurotic cold shower (no lucky…) or Hadi – did anyone even notice when he got in or out? Guess who made a big splash? Yup, our friendly neighborhood fag… It started with whining about the temperature of the water, continued with horrible singing (yes, yes, we all know, you have a tape at home in the shower…) and drove me mad when he got bored so he started talking to (“SHUT THE FUCK UP! I’M TRYING TO GET SOME SLEEP!”). Here’s an idea: shorter showers!

 

 

Act VII:

The bed. Better yet, the bed partner… after viewing carefully the sleeping bags brothers (pencil-spine Matia and mummified Hadish) I thought I had it made, but alas, I was wrong… So wrong…

It started pretty nice (a mini slumber party) all was well, the mattress and the mistress (faggy) were adequate, but when I realized my restless partner had a tendency of waking up every 30 minutes, grumbling about it, and slamming doors (or himself into the bed – and if you remember the bear commercial – one is hoping while the other sleeps, well, I bet I’d feel it as a major tremor even if he’d miss the bed and crush to the floor).

I’m not even wading into the nocturnal sound effects; suffice to say I had better nights while sleeping in a tent…

 

 

Act VIII:

Breakfast. All I can say is how? How on earth can anyone eat so much after the culinary trip our tummies embarked on the day before? I couldn’t watch Yoav as he stuffed his face with all four major food types: vegetable, nicotine, caffeine and tzimcao…

God help you all, I could barely taste the honey cake and eat some soup… Most important meal of the day my ass!

I could barely keep focus on the game as it was…

 

 

Act IX:

The homecoming. As always, dividing the chores wisely is very important. Hadi and were in charge of the moving, faggy was responsible for cleaning (I helped – so long as I didn’t clean toilettes…). Yoav you ask? He cleaned his eye lenses. And the sink…

We still had to wait for the neurotic bubber…

 

 

Act X:

Later that night. Do you think we had enough? Oh no, we just had to go out, drink ourselves silly and dance like there’s no tomorrow – and there was one, we went out on that one too…

 

 

Epilogue:

As, always, there’s the part when the one who arranged the house (wrecking zone) gets a little cranky (“I’m never getting us a house to play in again!!!”) but when the dust settled, it was one of the best YKBs up to date, next year we’ll enjoy the hospitality of some other porn mistress/crazed dog/etc. you just wait and see…

 

 

 

        Good Idea

 

Having a spell slinger.

 

     Better Idea

 

Having a mage who slings spells.

       

     Best Idea

 

Having a sane mage as a spell slinger.

 

    Bad Idea

 

Not having a spell slinger.

 

    Worse Idea

 

Having a rogue as a spell slinger.

 

    Worst Idea

 

Having a fumbling merchant as a spell slinger – why don’t you just use wild magic or something???

 

 

 

 

        Good Idea

 

Eating a balanced meal

 

    Bad Idea

 

Eating gallons of soup, peeing like there’s no tomorrow…

 

    Worse Idea

 

Eating the entire hen-house, pooping like there’s no tomorrow…

 

    Worst Idea

 

Going out after the game, drinking like there’s no tomorrow, almost puking like there’s no tomorrow…

 

 

 

 

        Good Idea

 

Checking expiration dates on food products.

 

    Bad Idea

 

Eating fermented humus

 

    Worse Idea

 

Dipping your bread in symphonia a la mould.

 

    Worst Idea

 

Finding last week’s condensed milk in the bomb shelter.

 

    As Bad as it gets

 

Trying vintage ketchup with you’re bread-crumbs coated products only to realize that special after taste wasn’t salmonella (you’d wish!) rather the residues one gains after years in the Ganor storage area…