Cleric: “Do you think my goddess is going to be mad at me because I accidentally contacted a devil when I was trying to contact one of her avatars?”
Wizard: “…maybe. Do you plan on making a pact or converting?”
Cleric: “What? No.”
Wizard: “Then you should be fine.”
—–A few days later
Cleric: “So the devil contacted me this time to offer aid. He said no strings attached and just to listen to him. Of course he wants to make a pact. He says he just wants to help us make sure the world doesn’t get destroyed, nothing nefarious.”
Ranger: “You’re not gonna make a pact with him, right?”
Cleric: “I don’t plan on it.”
——A loooong while later
Wizard: “Hey, when did your healing spells become purple.”
Cleric: “Oh. You know.”
Wizard: “…you made the fucking pact didn’t you.”
Cleric: “My goddess was ignoring my calls! I needed my powers, what was I supposed to do? He was a civil guy and has been since! He even taught me to make power stones to help contact him and such.”
Wizard: “And how do you do that?”
Cleric: “Er. Forget I mentioned it.”
Wizard (OOC): I’m gonna use detect alignment.
Cleric (OOC): Oh yeah she’s neutral evil as hell now.
Wizard: “Damnit! You were our moral compass!”
Cleric: “I still can be! What’s a few souls sacrificed anyways?”
Wizard: “IMMORAL.”
Cleric: “You got me there.”
Ranger: “Does that make me most reasonable person in the party now? Besides you.”
Wizard: “By default, probably.”
Ranger: “Nice. Let’s go do some morally grey shit!”
Cleric: “YEAH!”
Wizard: “I hate you both.”
i walk into starbucks and order a pumpkin spice latte with 13 shots of espresso. i tell the barista that i intend to transcend humanity and become a god. i ask for no whip cream
you say this jokingly but i had a customer actually order a pumpkin spice latte with 9 shots of espresso (also no whip) and when i asked her to verify that she did indeed want 9 shots of espresso she looked me dead in the eyes and said “i have 5 kids”
I once had a woman come in and ordered an Americano with 19 shots of espresso. The drink took ages. It held up the line. I asked her why, and she shrugged and said “I just don’t care”. We still talk about that woman. We never saw her again.
new cryptid: exhausted woman at starbucks
Actual conversation I had at register:
“Hi, welcome to [Starbucks]! What can I get you, today?”
“How much is it to fill a Venti with Espresso?”
“I- I’m sorry?”
“A venti cup. How much to fill it with Espresso?”
“Oh. uh. Well, it’d be I suppose… I only have a button for a Quad. I don’t have special pricing for twenty ounces of espresso in a single… drink.”
“Price is the furthest thing from my mind right now. How many ‘add shots’ is that?”
*deep breath of fear* “It’d be a quad with,” *clears throat* “uh, sixteen additional shots of espresso. But, ma’am, I should tell you that the shots will start to get really bitter if they have to sit and wait for us to pull twenty of them-”
“Taste means nothing to me.”
At this point I am truly fearing for my very existence in the presence of what must clearly be an eldritch being.
“Oh. Well, okay.” I put on my absolute best customer service smile to hide my terror and accept that I must face this dragon, fae, or demon with dignity. “We can certainly get that for you! The price will be _____.”
She begins to pay, I shit thee not, with golden dollar coins. We are a block from Wall Street, and this eldritch demi-being is paying for an unholy elixer with golden coins. My life will end soon, I am sure of it.
“Do you still have the ‘Add Energy’ packets?”
My heart began to race at this request. “Yes ma’am.”
“How many can I add?”
Futile though it is, at least I know the rote response to this. “For health reasons, we won’t add more than one per drink and we cannot sell the packets individually.”
“One then.”
I alter the order and tell her the new price. She pays, dumps the change and five golden dollars into the tip box. I write the order on the venti cup and pass it silently to the girl working the hot beverage station. Normally we called and pass, but this was … not something to be spoken aloud.
My fellow takes the cup, not thinking anything of the minor break with protocol, until she sees the order. She stares at me. “No.”
The woman, which I call her for no other greater insight into her terrifying being is within my grasp, simply stands on the other side and says, calmly but with a commanding tone I expect of Admirals in bad movies, “Yes.”
My fellow barista pales before her task. But we are dutiful, we are true to our task, great though it may be. She sets about clearing the two brand new Matrena’s of all distraction, and sets two tall cups in the ready position. The energy packet is emptied into the venti cup, and the shots begin pouring.
The barista was damn near shaking. This woman’s gaze felt like the fires of the sun. Finally, the shots are pulled, the cup is filled, and the hand off takes place.
Our visiting Incomprehensible takes it to our milk bar and adds a dollop of cream. Satisfied, she proceeds to down what must have been half the damn cup.
Then she smiled at us, like a benediction and I was honestly filled with joy. And horror. She left, and we knew nothing more of her after that.
When I talk with other former employees, we quickly begin talking about “The Company” as if we’d never l, perhaps knowing that part of our soul still powers that awesome and terrible corporate machine. And when I share this stroy, other Baristas at first act shocked but quickly settle and comes the chorus,
Meet The Swim Reaper, death taking an extended holiday on the beaches of New Zealand and sharing their vacation snapshots with the world on Instagram. From beach yoga in the morning:
“NZ is amaze! Heaps of mean beaches and swimming holes, and a long line of people willing to do dumb stuff. The perfect mix. Ha! Yeah, so I’m just hanging out all summer, waiting to reap some peeps. Swim dumb and I’ll be seeing you soon.”
The Swim Reaper’s endless beach holiday is an ongoing campaign created by the government of New Zealand in effort to promote water safety.
Water Safety New Zealand estimates that about 105 people die from drowning each year in the island nation, with 56 lives already claimed this year. The worst part? These deaths are totally preventable, and most of them tend to befall young males who swim drunk.
So be safe at the beach so that The Swim Reaper can spend more time sipping tropical drinks, playing volleyball, and creating these delightfully morbid getaway photos and videos for us to enjoy.
Context: Our halfling rogue stitched a portable hole into the lining of our dwarf’s backpack and has converted it into a house, which we sleep in at night, take our meals in, etc.
Dwarf Monk: I climb out of the backpack to sstart the day’s travelling.
Gnome Druid: I follow her.
DM: You both climb out of the backpack and see three elves, who were about to loot the backpack, thinking it had been forgotten here. They’re startled to see you climb out, as the backpack is maaaayyybeee big enough for the dwarf, if she were scrunched up inside, but definitely not big enough for the both of you.
Gnome Druid: Oh…hello….
DM: Suddenly, an owl flies out of the backpack and up into the sky. The elves jump back, startled.
Gnome Druid: Goodbye, Hooty!
DM: The elves, still confused, stare at you for a moment. One of them steps forward and unrolls a scroll. “We’re looking for this man. He’s wanted for theft.” It’s a picture of the gnome druid’s uncle.
Gnome Druid: I whisper “Run, on the count of three” to the dwarf monk.
Dwarf Monk: “What? Why? Who is that man??”
Gnome Druid: “1…2…3!!” I just start running.
DM: The elves are STILL CONFUSED and now they’re startled again, so they draw their bows and take an attack of opportunity, firing at you. …You take…26 damage!! How many hit points do you have left?
Gnome Druid: …8. I turn into an owl to fly away.
DM: The owl form has fewer than 26 hit points!! You turn into an owl, leaping into the air, and then immediately fall back to earth as a gnome again, unconscious.
Gnome Druid: Cool.
DM: The elves now turn to the Dwarf Monk, bows still drawn. “What was that about?”
Dwarf Monk: “I don’t know! I’m so confused! I have no idea!” I put my hands up to
DM: You hear a voice in your head. It’s Lydia the halfling rogue, speaking to you through the Ring of Chatter from inside the backpack. “I can take them all out right now…just say the word.”
Dwarf Monk: *the player is laughing uncontrollably at the turn of events* NO, LYDIA, DON’T KILL THEM!
DM: So the elves just see this dwarf, claiming to know nothing, fall down to her knees and start laughing uncontrollably, and suddenly she shouts “No Lydia, don’t kill them!” They’re very alarmed.
Lydia, through the Ring of Chatter: “Seriously, just say the word, I’ll kill them all right now!”
DM: The elves are seriously freaked out now. One of them restrains the dwarf, the second picks up the unconscious gnome, and the third picks up the backpack. They start to walk off in different directions.
Dwarf Monk: I try to reach toward the backpack. “LYDIA! NO!”
DM: The elf with the backpack looks at the other two. “The backpack’s name is Lydia.”
A New Hampshire Republican State Representative anonymously created the “Red Pill” subreddit.
Wow.
these aren’t just bullshitter dweebs in their mom’s basements trolling the internet, these are men who formulate the way we implement laws and who govern the way we live our lives.
^^^ Hello, yes, everyone needs to see this. It’s not always a bunch of nobodies trolling around on 4chan. It’s, doctors, lawyers, judges, businessmen, bankers, law enforcement, etc. People who have pulls on society. They literally don’t see other groups besides themselves as human or equal
…holy shit like this is bad really really bad but so much clearly so if you’ve ever read the scum that floats to the top of the Red Pill. Like basically he was just outed as the creator of a neo-nazi misogynist pro-rape forum explicitly to recruit online loners and groom them like it’s EVERYTHING we’ve been saying these people do but this is like, the hive.
For the anon asking why not trust red pill guys
Fuck Conservatives
Fun fact: the Red Pill was 90% of the reason I left reddit. I think it’s important everyone understands why, without having to subject yourselves to actually looking at the subreddit.
The Red Pill is a confluence of gross misogyny, rape culture, and vile social darwinism, all tied up under the banner of it being the “truth” behind some grand lie that is PC culture; that is to say, taking the red pill to withdraw yourself from the Matrix, a metaphor nearly as dated as the ideals they espouse.
If you think I’m exaggerating, I’m not. I spent nearly two years on reddit before toxic bullshit like this drove me out. These people build an elaborate construct about treating women like property and sexualizing children because ~evolution~ programmed them to like it, and ~evolution~ can’t possibly be wrong, as though club-wielding Neanderthal brutes are something to aspire to and not something we left behind millennia ago.
They’ve created an incredibly detailed fantasy about how women are evolutionarily predisposed to react to certain behaviors of “alpha males” (another false equivalence; the theory of the alpha male comes from a since-disproved theory about wolf behavior), and how the trick to success in sex is about taking on these characteristics which, spoiler alert, explicitly encourage treating women like garbage.
I cannot overstate how incredibly toxic the Red Pill is and how disgustingly large the community became by the time I left reddit. I wish I could say I was surprised that a Republican senator founded it, but this is the kind of shit they’ve been legislating for years.
Why am I not surprised?
For all you god damn motherfucking doubters, this is not fake, sources include:
4chan is not just dickhead teenagers who are trolling. There are serious adults there, spreading hate and violence, and recruiting those teenagers into the alt-right of the future. When the history of our time is written, there should be several chapters about 4chan and 8chan and the hate subreddits and how they were complicit in the violence and hate that is consuming our world.
