Go to Hell: The game of bad decisions

exball

He's fat! Iiiiii'm thin!
kiwifarms.net
Joined
Jun 21, 2013
You are all in a stuffy, dimly lit, and bleak room. It's the usual place, an abandoned house on the edge of town where you all meet to do heroin. Everyone in this room comes from wildly different backgrounds. Some rich and privileged, others poor with no prospects. There are only two things everyone in this room has in common. One, that you all love sitting in dark rooms to do drugs, and two, that everyone in this room has a contract with a demon. However, today there is a problem. You've just run out of heroin and nobody feels like going home. Your only option is to visit the biggest dealer in town, El Taco Bell, to get more. What do you do?

Out of Character writing is in blue, like this.
Descriptions are written in normal text.
"Dialogue is written in bold".
Internal monologues are written in italics.
 
Johann Gott walked about the west wall of the dreary room at a shuffled pace. He never did like these sort of meetings, but he found it an important thing to do regardless of his personal preferences. A savior must accept all sorts of creeds and lifestyles so he found himself experimenting from time to time in dark corners of the world like these. I didn't even get any. He thought, his hands digging into his pockets with slight disinterest. He was not here to rush the thrill of life down into a gutter, he was here to learn.

Knowledge was all that has and ever will matter to the young Mr. Gott, and he looked around to the faces of his compatriots. Odd folks they were that was for sure despite the darkness obscuring their features. He always made sure he was one of the few that stood out the least when he poked his nose into drug dens like these... Relatively speaking of course. Johann was dressed in a zippered up hooded jacket of silver color and very ornate detailing.

The young self proclaimed scholar thought of opening his mouth and suggesting 'El Taco Bell', yet he mumbled it softly to himself inaudibly. He did not want to truly associate with these people, only observe like he always had. His bright blue eyes watched calmly behind circular glasses, underneath the shadows cast by his silver hood. No, the first move will not be mine. Johann resolved to wait.
 
Pastor Gregory Winthrop was in another somber mood tonight after realizing he might not be getting his fix. He started rubbing the little silver cross on his necklace between his fingers. He wanted his fix so he could take his mind off things but that wasn't going to happen now. Its been a month since Linda took the kids and she still hasn't even called. I still have the house and yet I spend most nights in peeholes like this. He was getting antsy waiting for someone to come up with a plan and started fidgeting around. He tried wiping his glasses off on his sweater and scratched his balding scalp. He looked at his surroundings and at his "companions". How long had I spent talking to people and warning them of such vices. H E double Hockey sticks, I might have even counseled a couple of these very people. He didn't know if it was Satan or the Lord that such a sense of Humor but he hated them either way. He knew he was going to sin tonight but he hoped God would be forgiving if it wasn't his idea. So he prayed that someone would come up with a plan.
 
TJ put his feet up on a milk crate and yawned. Heroin wasn't his drug of choice; it was too slow and incapacitating for his tastes. No, what he wanted a hit of was meth. Unfortunately, he was out of both.
He did, however, know who did have some meth and heroin.
"Yo, Johnny Boy, what's that you said? I couldn't hear yah. Come on, you can tell yer old pal TJ. Cause if yah don't I'll beat the shit out of you you scrawny mothafucka."
 
Oh, this moron. Johann looked to the dirty, mullet headed individual and decided that TJ's brain was quite similar to his mullet-they both just stopped working in the 80's. He'd overheard talk of him being a convict, but he was not afraid of him. Nevertheless conflict was better off denied so he answered the meathead in a singsong voice. "El Taco Bell, I said. I thought it to myself but didn't bring it up because I wasn't sure if it was a good idea. But... Then again, its not like we have any other options is it TJ, old pal?" His smile was genuine and no one could detect how much he looked down on the others surrounding him.
 
This is good so far, guys. I'll let you control how things go until you bump into an NPC or an event.
 
"El Taco Bell? That beano who done operates over on the other side of town? Yeah, he's got a shit ton of stuff. Real high quality too. So, we gonna run over there and make a pick up? Or should we do things the fun way?"
TJ smiled. If he could get El Taco Bell killed off, not only would he have a nice big stash of meth, but he'd also have competition for his own meth operation out of the way. Granted, his operation was run out of a buried shipping container under a trailer in the desert. But with El Taco Bell out of the way, he'd be able to expand his operation, get more money, and kill some assholes in the process.
"Yeah, shooting u-swinging by El Taco Bell's place. I like the way yah think Johnny. Hey, Pastor Faggot, what say you?"
 
Pastor Greg looked up as he was being called. He decided it was best not to correct TJ and get on his bad side. "Uh, uh, Yeah lets go see this El Taco Bell if he has some narcotics for us. Ummm if we could just stop at an ATM first I could use some cash and so I can buy a little extra." Pastor Greg was happy that things were finally going to happen but he still had doubts. Dear Lord what am I getting myself into tonight?
 
  • Agree
Reactions: Randall Fragg
"Haaaaaaaaa......shit, what?"
Mace Fonners snapped up from his tactical sleeping perch in the corner. Desperately checking himself, he was relieved to not find any MOUNTAIN DEW spilled in or around his pants. Readjusting his tinfoil scarf, the air force-trained teen nodded to the other men in the room.
"Uh, Semper Fidelis gamers, situation normal and shit...shit dude, that water weed was pretty sick man. Like, what were we doing again? I'm just a little FADED STIIIILL, tchyahaaaaaaaaa!"
 
  • Agree
Reactions: Randall Fragg
Between Pastor Tweek and Duke Nukem's drug abusing inbred cousin, it seems that that man is the closest to normalcy amidst my surroundings... Johann sniffed the air and recoiled deeper into his hooded jacket. And dear lord he smells like rotting cannabis soaked in what can only be described as Mountain Dew-scented semen. He knew that it took all types of people to change the world and that allies could be found in unlikely spots, but Johann started to think maybe he really did just want to get high and forget about all of these unruly characters.

Upon thinking to himself, he really did have no reason to distrust the Pastor yet... He had a feeling. That isn't saying much since he had a feeling about all of his compatriots, and he resolved to watch them. "Anyone happen to bring an automotive vehicle, or are we fine gentleman out for a midnight stroll amid friends?" He smiled and asked perfectly with the tone of voice that had practiced niceties in front of a mirror for days on end.
 
  • Winner
Reactions: Randall Fragg
Mace ran a hand through his sparse hair and shrugged. "I dunno dude, like I thought Byce would be here with his wop dad's car but like I dunno. I could probably, you know, like find us a ride or some shit but I don't really want to you know? Like it doesn't seem like a tactical way to be using my abilities, if you basically catch the flags of my drift there."
 
  • Winner
Reactions: Randall Fragg
"Hey, I have a truck. Mace and Johnny, you can ride in the bed. Pastor Faggot, yew sit in the front and wack me off. We gotta stop by my place to get some, uhhh, 'negotiating equipment', if ya catch my drift."
TJ gets to his feet and puts on his clothes, showing off his chest tattoo of a fiery skeleton dressed in a German WW2 uniform duel wielding a MP-40 and a P-38.

Yes, he's been in his tighty-whiteys this whole time.

They have little skeletons on them.
 
  • Informative
Reactions: KingofManga420
Pastor Greg waited until TJ was out of earshot and looked at the others with a nervous expression. " You don't think he was serious about that do you? The wacking off part I mean." He followed the group out of the building to TJ's truck and took his place in the cab.
 
  • Feels
Reactions: KingofManga420
Mace exited the building and tactically parkoured into the back of the truck with the grace of a wolf of the battlefield. "Sorry dude but I hope you're ready for some homosexual content, Pastor Faggot," he whispered to the pastor.
He patted the empty space on the bed and beckoned to Johann. "Heh, I guess us NON-faggots will just like be chilling in the rear dude."
 
"Personally I'd have ridden in the back with us." Johann said as he jumped up into the back of the truck along with Mace, the stinking oaf muttering unintelligible psychobabble about Notorious B.I.G. in Ukraine and being a retired wounded ocelot appreciator of the Air Force. "But yeah,"

He gave Mace a look up and down and sighed. Guy seemed like he had his heart in the right place, if nothing else. His eyes shot left to look out from an alleyway into the city streets and he smiled a betraying smile of his friendliness. "How do you think Violent Marv would handle a city as shitty as this?" The skies seemed a tinge of subtle blood-red filtered through the smoke of factories churning out abominations and in the distance shots rung out, a gang war perhaps, or an epic prank taken way too far.
 
TJ blares Motorhead as the truck rolls through the outskirts of the city, eventually pulling into a dusty trailer park. He climbs out, walks into the trailer, grabs a box of Capt Crunch, pours a beer into it, and has dinner.
"So, how ya wants ta do this? Make a deal or bust some skulls?"
TJ points his fork at the large collection of weapons propped up against the TV stand at the far end if the trailer.
Do you mind if I expand a little on the setting, such as giving the city a name and detailing certain areas?
 
This is just my opinion, but only if its as blatantly stupid and over the top as you can imagine.

Also I meant to ask, do we all know each other has demons?
 
TJ blares Motorhead as the truck rolls through the outskirts of the city, eventually pulling into a dusty trailer park. He climbs out, walks into the trailer, grabs a box of Capt Crunch, pours a beer into it, and has dinner.
"So, how ya wants ta do this? Make a deal or bust some skulls?"
TJ points his fork at the large collection of weapons propped up against the TV stand at the far end if the trailer.
Do you mind if I expand a little on the setting, such as giving the city a name and detailing certain areas?

This is a storytelling game, all the better if all the players have fun with it. Keep it in the theme of being insane, stupid, and a little racist. (eg: El Taco Bell)
Also I meant to ask, do we all know each other has demons?
There are only two things everyone in this room has in common. One, that you all love sitting in dark rooms to do drugs, and two, that everyone in this room has a contract with a demon.
It's one of the few reasons you bother to associate with each other. Pretty much the only thing holding this group together.
 
Back