Strange Parallel Universe

Fog and smoke shrouded the fire-routed village of Livonia, home of several encampments of the once-mighty wizards who produced carriages for the good citizens of the kingdom. Fisher Body, Ford Transmission, Delco Electronics, GM Engines, and thousands of artisans and guilds who supported them were all left homeless, and without the copper pieces to pay their monthly cable tv bills or for the strange leavened-bread pies with sliced pork, cheese and the sauce of the once-feared tomato.

The kingdom had suffered for years from leaders and citizens who viewed the work of the wizards as inferior to goods produced by non-guild laborers and artisans. Stories abounded of the employees who slept in the rafters of the encampments or were strong with mead or other potions. Some of the worst stories involved illegal apothecary and even one evil worker who ran an assasins guild from the encampment whose sole purpose was to keep the other workers in line.

Many citizens of the kingdom did not enjoy the experiences they had when they went to purchase a carriage. Carriage salesmen were infamous for their vile deceits.

Other citizens viewed the carriages as wasteful. They felt that carriages should be smaller and take fewer horses to pull them. This was particularly concerning as many horses came from the evil lands of Balmor, whose kings spoke with two faces about their alliances with a band of orcs, kobold, ogres and vile brigands in the Krag Mountains. Citizens felt that if they used fewer horses, Balmor would not be able to support the denizens of the Krag Mountains.

The good people of Livonia looked upon the wreckage of their village and recalled the multi-fold times that their carriage works had saved the kingdom and the pride they had when their carriages had once led the crusades that drove the forces of various evils from the World.

Other citizens of Livonia recalled that many in the south of the Kingdom enjoyed racing these carriages and wondered what carriages they would use if there were no more artisans.

The workers and artisans of Livonia would need to summon mighty magics to turn back the destruction of their fair village. They would need to fight the blind clerics who supported the previous king, who while fighting an expensive war in the Krag Mountains, caused an increase in prices that made the Balmor horses so expensive. They would need to fight the blind merchants of the villages of New York and the Eastern shore who cared not a wit for the Livonia-ites (as it was a rather unfashionable village). They would need to fight the wit-less citzens of the Rock-candy Mountains who under the spell of various illusionists, viewed all carriages as anathema and felt that the citizens of the kingdom should move about in magic tubes.

The poor citizens of the village of Livonia had few friends and the future looked very bleak indeed. Unless some help arrived for the nearly powerless wizards the village's destruction would be complete.

To the Troll Fens and Onward toward the Ghoulish North

It was a little more than 20 years past. Twas the dwimmer of our Lord One Thousand und Ocztein Seiben. A band of mightly warriors and heroes, known across the freize as the Good Party. They were led by two:

Hannon the sword-wielding cleric of the Norse God Heimdall. Hannon was known for his intense hatred of trolls who had done him wrong somehow. He vowed to utilize his life of service to Heimdall to the additional service of ridding the infamous Troll Fens of their namesake denizens.

John Wisshard the Monk/Illusionist. Wisshard was a legendary martial artist who was capable of multiple attacks per ten minute turn and even multiple attacks per combat segement. His mission in life was unspecified violent supression of the forces of Evil. To this end he helped lead an adventure to the icy Northern wastes to fight an army of the undead.

There were many, many associated individuals with this so-called Good Party. During their myriad adventures they voyaged in multiple planes of existence and conquered many kingdoms and made away with massive hauls of treasure that they were able to cart around without concern for weight or mass because of some strange waiver to the laws of physics in their world.

Exeunt to the Tavern!

In the bleak mid-winter I often travel to visit my comrade-in-arms, Admiral Rossaroni’s, at his heroic citadel, Barrister’s Keepe. We tell tales of past adventures and enjoy fine ales served in goblets fashioned from fine Greyhawk silver and crystal. Sometimes I stop by to borrow fifty feet of rope and a bullseye lantern (I rarely employ the lantern however, since I possess the half-elf’s infravision).

I recall a favorite tale wherein I defeated a Catoblepas, a nightmare creature, loathsome beyond description. Its body resembles that of a huge bloated buffalo and gives off an offensive odor. The odor, naturally, matches its favorite haunt – the fetid swamp. Regrettably, this creature’s gaze causes death in manner similar to a wizard’s death ray spell.

Before, I could complete my marvelous epic, the Admiral interrupted. He waved away Schott, his oaf, then leaned over and carefully explained to me that we would be embarking on his ship, the Planetary Sovereign to undertake a rescue mission to find Lady Marzipan and her manservant Johnny 6G.

Luckily, I’d packed my Wand of Illusion, a few scrolls, two weeks rations and some healing potions. No one will ever say Woodpecker-Smythe, 10^th level illusionist is ever unprepared!

But we still needed able-bodied back-up for the Admiral’s trusty steel, the +5 magic sword “Sabrina Tuberculomata Teleutosorus" and my amazing skills at magic.

Now, just where in the world could we find the types of adventurers willing to round out our party on such short notice?

“Fedor's Tavern?” I thought out loud

Welcome Adventurers!

What ho, everyone! Allow me to introduce myself. I am Admiral Rossaroni, Freebooter. I have been in residence in Barrister's Keepe, and the nearby Barrister's Keepe harbour, on and off, for too many years to count. While I am a veteran of many an adventure, I am most commonly known for defeating a +4 Kraken last year with my crew of the good ship Planetary Soverign (good thing I had my +2 enchanted broadsword with me at the time).

I must apoligize to you, dear reader, for the quality of my post, as I seem to have a slight headache today to go along with the strange bump on my head. I also seem to have something that can only be described as a vague memory of living an entire lifetime somewhere called "England" and that I was some sort of pompous, aritocratic buffoon. But, as everyone knows, I have been living at Barrister's Keepe ever since my childhood, when the Fell Winter brought the Orc Invasion that has plagued our land ever since. Well, I'm sure I'll get everything sorted out in my old noggin before too long, so fear not.

At present I am embarked on a quest. I am sailing, with my crew and a band of Intrepid Adventurers (tm), to a distant land to rescue one Lady Marzipan and her manservant J6G.

You Only Live Thrice OR ... HAI KARATE!!!!!!

Turbulent weather appeared on the horizon. Clouds roiled, waves tossed, seabirds careened and cartwheeled about the ev’r darkening sky.

Johnny Sixguns was first to note the change in atmospherics, “Aye, there’s turnbulent weather afoot.”

“I think you mean ‘tur-bu-lent’ not 'turnbulent' Johnny” replied Lady Marzipan.

“No I mean turnbulent – see, look at the donkey’s tail on this comical barometer I picked up in the Black Forest – the tail is swinging around and translating from the German interpretation beneath, it means ‘the weather will be turnbulent.’”

To which Lady M retorted, “You are the biggest idiot I’ve ever met, remind me to murder you later … if we survive.”

Before Sixguns could reply, lighting arced across the turnbulent sky …..

“STOP saying ‘turnbulent’ !” Lady M screamed above the din.

“… the turbulent sky, striking the small craft, sending its occupants about forty feet into the air.”

The streaking pair left behind the lifeboat which was promptly crushed into matchstick sized remnants by the next wave (which, for foreshadowing’s sake was depicted in the 17^th century Japanese woodcut style).

Eventually, dawn came and our two travelers awoke covered with seaweed and surrounded by a forest of poles with pointy-bladey things affixed to their termini. These of course might better be described as halberds but neither Johnny Sixguns or Lady M were in any shape to recall the fantastic weaponry of the AD&D Players Handbook (version 1).

To the shouts of onlookers, Lord Toranaga confidently strode through the crowd and parted the mass of weapons to better assess the situation. He gazed down at the bedraggled survivors.

Groggily, Lady M raised here head and spoke “Have you ever heard the one about Rene Descartes in the bar?”

Science Jokes

Q: How many quantum physicists does it take to change a lightbulb ? A: One. Two to do it, and one to renormalise the wave function.

Bohr moved in atomic circles while Schrodinger waved and Heisenberg hesitated.

Rene Descartes was sitting at a bar. The bartender came over and asked ifhe would like another drink. He replied, "I think not." And he vanished.

A neutron walked into a bar and asked, "How much for a drink?" The bartender replied, "For you, no charge."

Q: What did one quantum physicist say when he wanted to fight another quantum physicist? A: Let me atom.

Two atoms were walking across a road when one of them said, "I think I lost an electron!" "Really!" the other replied, "Are you sure?" "Yes, I 'm absolutely positive."

Copenhagen: The lost 4th Act

Niels Bohr: "You can't toy with the human race with these quantum mechanics. You aren't my pupil anymore. "

Sports Illustrated.com's Peter King: "I'm very glad we didn't bring in Brett Favre to work on a Q-Device. I believe his calculations are in error. It is typical of his tragic genius that he makes as many spectacular errors as spectuacular plays. I believe our effort to bring in Tom Brady will yield success much sooner. "

Former University of Michigan Quarterback Tom Brady: "Ja, Dr. Heisenberg and I have been working on this. Well, between rehabbing my injurred leg and my journeys of discovery with various and sundry movie starlets and Brazilian supermodels. The good Dr. Heisenberg and I are convinced me that we may find the Maximum Likelihood Estimated location for the lifeboat with J6G and Marzipan at a place and time near the Paracel Islands in or around 1968, although i may be confusing if it is during the Nixon or Johnson administrations."

Niels Bohr: "You don't seem very certain."

Heisenberg: "No, I'm known for that actually."

Note: Tom Brady was inserted into this storyline to remind one and all of the former greatness of the winningest college football program, and second luckiest alumn of that University. #1 luckiest is of course playwrite Arthur Miller. The single unluckiest is Swedish diplomat Raoul Wallenberg.