DTW Tokyo Gore Noir #3,Kalinda RP 1/1: Of Grims and Games

So there I was; seated at the kiddie table in the middle of Castle Exterra, resplendent in my full on bone armor and having temporarily cursed myself with with what was probably a good four decades or so of extra age so that I had my full-on dragon thing going.

Because to be perfectly honest people don't take you seriously as a dragon until you've got proper horns and wings, and they will persist with this delusion until you use your magic fire breath and set their gonads ablaze.

But after having Maleficent duty pinned on me by bitch queen faerie numero uno Rosie the Rapist I had to do my best to look the part. If I was going to have to suffer through this, so was everybody else.

Well, everybody above the age of majority. I may be a trolling asshole that just so happens to be an unwilling agent of the God of Evil Overlords, but I'm not going to cement myself as the sort of mustache-twirling, puppy-kicking Saturday morning cartoon villain that get their jollies by being a dick to children.

So after earning the scorn of the King with a very farty ketchup bottle I had managed to win a small battle in the war of hearts and minds by animating the roast pigeons, having them take up forks and knives as weapons, and work together to bring down the titanic spit-roasted boar.

DTW Tokyo Gore Noir #2,Kalinda RP 1/1: Of Maleficent and Mountains

Y'all are a bunch of uncultured fuckwombles, seriously.

I mean just look at what little miss "I only wrestle on rare occasions, but can interfere in my fuckpets' matches all I want and can run my filthy whore mouth about them and can cry foul when a professional wrestler actually lays their hands on me" said not too long ago.

It's like you people are incapable of forming your own ideas, of having your own hobbies, of going out to see a movie that isn't a bajillion dollar blockbuster, of watching anything but the most recent popular television show.

Because fuck me in my blue, scaly cloaca, do you people do precisely fuck-all creatively when it comes time to insult somebody with draconic heritage.

Of course out come the reptilian slurs, which are stupid. Because I'm neither splay-legged nor cold-blooded.

Then come pretty much the only three works involving dragons that you guys managed to have hammered into your skulls in between sessions of drinking french fry grease and inbreeding.

DTW Tokyo Gore Noir #2,Claudia RP 1/1: THE MOTHERFUCKING GRIMACE

"Oh, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny," I say with a grin (#774 Pissy Shark Contemplating Her Prey), "You've gone and fuzzed up now."

I clap my hands and accidentally let a bit of a sadistic giggle slip out.

"You think that just because things have always been the way they were that that means that things are always going to continue to be the way they used to be."

I pause for a moment mouthing words to myself and making motions with a finger to make sure that what I said was something close to correct and then nod in satisfaction that it was either perfectly accurate or just so outright nonsense that poor Punky Drunkerton's head will explode from hearing it.

DTW Tokyo Gore Noir #1,Kalinda RP 1/1: Of Bitchfights and Babies

There's always a bigger fish, no matter how big you are.

No matter how powerful you are there's always something more powerful.

Something that makes you feel weak, that makes you feel helpless.

Even when you're a mage.

Even when you're a dragon.

Even when you're probably in the top ten most powerful supernatural forces on the gods-damned planet.

Because there are natural forces compared to which you're little more than an oversized, bright blue bug.

Like the bullshit in the Caribbean, where it's basically The Neverending Story: Tropicane Hurristorm Edition.

DTW Tokyo Gore Noir #1, Claudia Kajara RP 1/1: Of Inflammable Items and Infomercials

A drumroll, please!

Err… no. That's cute, a sweet roll-shaped to look like a tiny drum with little icing drumsticks on the top. But that's not what I was looking for. Try again, minions!

And there we go! We have a proper rolling of the drums as little spotlights move over a red velvet curtain.

And behind that curtains?

IT'S DOCTOR BEES!

No. No, it's not, it's none other than me! Claudia Kajara, star of stage, song, screen, and some other S word that involves the internet. Stream? Does stream work?

Writing Prompt: The US Constitution and the Fisher King Clause

From here

-o-

"Umm... Mr. President?"

"Busy right now. Tweeting. Saying things that need to be said about football players."

"That's nice, sir. But while the US Constitution's display case was due for its annual vacuuming, the janitor's blue light on his MP3 player showed something hidden."

"Was it an apple? They're always hiding those. They're all over the magazines I read at my doctor's office. He's the best doctor. Says all my tests are the most positive, that I'm the healthiest human being that has ever been president."

"Not an apple sir. But you know how some of the founding fathers were into weird secret societies and the occult?"

"Is the occult anything like an Applebee's?"

"No sir, it's like eldritch sorcery and men in hooded robes doing sinister things."

"Very American thing to do. Love me some men in hooded robes doing sinister things."

"Anyway, we appear to have a Fisher King clause hidden in invisible ink in the US Constitution tied to the current president."

"Never really was one for fishing, but the king part I like. This means I get to have a crown, right? A big gold crown. The best crown, really."

"No crown, sir. The Fisher King is a historical literary device, or trope, that states that the state of the land is irrevocably tied to the one who rules it."

"Soooooo... what you're telling me is that the United States is totally awesome, and is only going to get awesomer in the future?"

"Uhh... not exactly sir. Half the country is drowning and the other half is on fire."

"This is totally fake news. Those founding fathers were totally not cool dudes in robes and hoods doing sinister things. There were totally uncool cats in dresses that were probably like... doing whatever lame and bad things that uncool cats do. Which I don't know, because I'm not an uncool cat."

"As you say, sir."

"So now I'm having some thoughts about men in dresses. Get the guy with the medals to tell me about how the thing I just randomly said on Twitter with no input from my cabinet a few weeks ago is going."

"You mean General Mattis, sir?"

"General Mattis, Colonel Sanders, Captain Crunch, whoever he is."

"Very well, sir."

"Oh. And now I'm hungry. Can you go send Jared to KFC to get me a bucket of extra-tasty crispy? Or maybe Ivanka. Say, do you..."

"I'm just going to leave now, sir, before I am hideously creeped out before you mention something about your daughter and succulent, juicy breasts and I lose my appetite."

Thoughtlets: Random Generators

Note to self linking these.

http://rikmach.tumblr.com/post/163494362915/justdrinktea-medusas-heir

Thoughtlets: Seven Heavenly Virtues as Foes

From here

Make it so that these aren't exemplars but enforcers; they don't just embrace the virtue but demand that others do so as well.

Charity goes after equipment, stealing, sundering, and disarming. 

Diligence can specialize in conditions, using things like stunning and daze to keep people from "showing off."

Humility can be a master of fear, to keep his foes in their place. 

Kindness might trot out emotion-manipulation magic to ensure an appropriate amount of opprobrium on the part of sinners. 

Patience has weaponized slow as well as spells/techniques that can entangle targets. 

Temperance is an expert with dispel magic and no one gets to benefit from "doping" in her presence.

As for Chastity? They are an expert at Grappling. They can wrap around you like a snake, twist you into a pretzel, and hog-tie you in the course of two rounds. Lead in with a Stag Horns charge or a Snapping Turtle Clutch reaction to a missed attack to grapple, then follow it up the next round with a Rapid Grapple to maintain as a move action, pin a swift action (or just invest in a lot of Stealth and Bushwack them), and then tie them up with your standard action. Or be really weird and stack the Grabbing Style and Tatzlwyrm Claw Style's Rake to grapple three people at a time: one in either hand and a third with your legs.

Thoughtlets: Writing characters with wings

Writing characters with wings

Thoughtlets: Non Combat Encounters

From here

Ideas for non-combat encounters/events

For when you want some variety for your tabletop RPG.  These events will also give your players a chance to use character skills they don’t often have opportunities for.

• Natural Disaster - Have the town the PCs are in catch on fire and see what they do!  Do they cut their losses and run?  Do they heroically try to save trapped townspeople?  What do they do about the aftermath?  Natural disasters are an interesting challenge because there can be lots of danger and drama without necessarily having a villain.  It may also get your PCs to use skills they don’t commonly have a chance to.  You could also try floods, earthquakes, raging storms while at sea, etc.
• Powerful Fortress - Put one of your party’s goals in a location where they won’t be able to prevail through combat alone (Example: a fortress where they are vastly outnumbered).  Your players will have to rely on either stealth or guile (or both) to accomplish their goal.  The pacing of such events can be frustrating to some players, but few sessions are as rewarding as a creatively executed heist or infiltration.
• Dangerous Crossing - Give them a dangerous physical obstacle to overcome.  A canyon, or a raging river, or quicksand or an old battleground littered with traps and mines.
• Festival - Have the PCs encounter a festival or tournament!  With lots of contests! This could be a good opportunity for them to build their fame and fortune (especially if you allow gambling).  Some of my favorite sessions have involved festivals.
• Entertainment - Put the PCs in a situation where they have to entertain someone.  What do they come up with?
• Letter - Have one of the PCs receive a letter, either from an NPC they’ve dealt with before or from someone involved with their backstory.  This is a good way to make the consequences of their actions seem more real.  You can also use it to introduce new plotlines/sidequests.
• Crafting Challenge - Put the PCs in a situation where they need to craft something in order to accomplish their goal.  Maybe they need to make something in order to fix a mechanism?  Or in order to satisfy some local gift-giving custom?  Or they need a forgery?  Maybe as part of an exchange for something else they need?
• Lost and Found - Have your PCs discover someone or something that is clearly lost.  Maybe they find an infant in the wilderness.  Or a key with a strange inscription, or some kind of talisman.  Throw in a clue or two to present your players with a tantalizing mystery.  
• Inhospitable Wilderness - Have the PCs go somewhere it’s an effort just to survive.  A barren desert, a treacherous swamp with poison gasses, a forest so dense the ground never sees the sun, or even the bottom of the ocean.  Test their endurance and survival skills!
• Dinner Party - Have the PCs be summoned to a formal event!  Test them on the battlegrounds of social grace and etiquette!  Even better if it’s in a dangerous environment or an alien culture.
• Thief - Have something important stolen from the PCs.  See how they handle it.
• Needle in a Haystack - Give the PCs something very difficult to find.  Like a single specific housecat in a sprawling metropolis, or a legendary weapon of which there are many fakes/copies.  

Really, if you need any more inspiration, look at your player’s character sheets and see if they’ve invested any points in a skill they haven’t gotten to use much.  Then invent a challenge they could feasibly use that skill for.  If you can’t think of a situation that could be helped by an Appraise, Craft: Calligraphy or Handle Animal check, you need to practice your own creative problem solving skills!

Thoughtlets: Making an Effective End Times Cultist

Response to this reddit post.

---

I personally would take out pages from my own life experience, as while not one myself, I have relatives who are members of one of those "We are living in the last days" Christian churches.

This whole thing rather amuses me as Groteus has the "Look absolutely loony to most people," "THE END TIMES ARE UPON US, REPENT SINNERS," and "BLOOD MOONS" aspects that my own family members sport.

So with my observations I would suggest the following:

Shapeways Dice Link

Writing Prompt: White House DnD

Prompted here

Sessionmaster: "So we open in the tavern…"

Pence: "Can we not open in a tavern? I can't be around alcohol without my wife present."

Sessionmaster: "It's just imaginary alcohol, Mike, and your wife isn't a player character in this world."

Pence: "My Paladin archetype replaces the Divine Bond class feature with an Angelic Companion, whom my character has bonded to in holy matrimony. She does not approve of alcohol."

Sessionmaster: "...fine. We begin in a… coffee shop? Is that okay?"

Pence: "It's fine."

Sessionmaster: "Okay, good. Because I DMed for Romney at the 2012 Republican National Convention, and boy those Mormons are weird with not liking caffeine.."

Trump: "Haha. Mormons. That's one letter away from being Morons. Great people, I'm sure. But weird. Unfortunate name. Sad. But funny."

*Trump holds up a hand for a high five and a giggling Steve Bannon high fives him.*

Bannon: "Good one, sir."

Sessionmaster: "Anyway, we open in the coffee shop, introduce your characters."

Pence: "I'm Michael, Human Holy Paladin of the One God…"

Trump: "You always play yourself as a human paladin. It's boring. Not interesting at all, Mike. You even do it all day with that LARPing thing…"

Pence: "What LARPing thing?"

Trump: "You know, that whole going around "God is with me, must do the will of god" thing. I mean you're probably having fun. But it's just weird for all of us. Very weird."

Pence: "I'm not LARPing. This is who I am."

Trump: "Oh."

*Bannon wrinkles his nose and leans over to Trump, whispering in his ear.*

Bannon: "Well, at least he's not wearing elf ears or orc tusks."

Trump: "Ugh. Yes. It's an improvement over Chris Christie. Showed up to every session painted green in a loincloth with a battleaxe. No way I was going to spend my presidency having to deal with that every week. Not fun to look at. Very bad."

Kushner: "I'm playing a Dwarven Rogue and…"

Bannon: "Man, everybody is playing what they know. I'm not surprised you're playing the precious-metal hungry, big-nosed, short…"

Kushner: "And what are you playing? I bet you've got six skill points per level, a d10 hit die, and an animal companion."

Bannon: "I uh… I totally don't.

*Kushner reaches across the table and grabs Bannon's sheet.*

Kushner: "Yup. To the surprise of no one Steve's playing a White Power Ranger."

Sessionmaster: "Guys, if you're going to be disruptive to the game I'll…"

*Everyone is quiet as Vladimir Putin walks in, takes the bowl of cheetos from the middle of the table, and then walks out again.*

Trump: "It's okay. He does that. Totally fine. Everything is good. Very good. Perfectly normal."

Sessionmaster: "So you're all sitting in the coffee shop, when there's a disturbance outside. Roll perception."

*Everybody rolls their dice.*

Kushner: "17."

Bannon: "13."

Pence: "Gosh darnit, 4."

Trump: "49. I have the highest Perception score. Just the best, really. My doctor said that I have the highest Perception score of any US President's character ever."

Sessionmaster: "I… um… can I see your sheet, please? I'm not sure how you managed that at level 7."

*Jeff Sessions reaches over the table to grab Trump's sheet, but Trump pulls it away.*

Trump: "No. No. You can't see my character sheet. The IRS is auditing my character wealth by level. So I can't show it to you. Very personal. Very private. Very hush hush."

Sessionmaster: "Okay, then run down your bonuses for me."

Trump: "I rolled a natural 20 because I have the greatest dice. The best dice, really. They're these gorgeous, expensive solid gold dice. I just saw them in the gaming store one day and I couldn't help but grab them."

Sessionmaster: "So that's 20…"

*Sessions waits for Trump to continue, but Trump has his phone out and appears to be browsing Twitter.*

Sessionmaster: "And the rest of it?"

Trump: "Huh? Are we still talking about that? Fake news. Totally fake."

Sessionmaster: "As the Dungeonmaster General, Donald, I can get you banned from organized play, you realize."

Trump: "Okay, fine. Plus five from Wisdom, because I am obviously the wisest. Plus four from my racial bonuses, plus four from my super awesome ultra masterwork item, and the rest I'm adding in because I need to compensate for all the stat rolls and skill points and items that Crooked Hillary illegally stole and gave to illegal immigrants during those presidential election games."

*Sessions sighs and pinches his nose, this is going to be a long night.*

Thoughtlets: Seven Deadly Sins as Temptors

From ShifterCat here.

For a while now, I’ve been discussing a frequent problem with anthropomorphic portrayals of the Seven Deadly Sins: six of them will be drawn to elicit disgust… except for Lust, who’ll be a bodacious babe. It’s like, “Yes, straight male audience, here are the parts of yourself you should fear. Plus that one, who is totally the fault of evil wimminz.”

Which: no, guys, you can’t have it both ways. Either portray ALL of them as tempting, or ALL of them as horrible warnings. And if you’re going with the latter, then Lust ought to be a man in a dirty raincoat, lurking outside a schoolyard.

(Credit where it’s due: Edmund Spenser, way back in the sixteenth century, portrayed Lust as a gross dude in The Faerie Queene.)
I was discussing this with Christopher, and he asked, what might the Seven Deadly Sins look like if, instead of simply embodying their sin, they were designed to elicit that sin?

Here are my ideas:

Wrath is primarily a talk-radio host, though he also publishes his rants in book and blog format. He whips his audience into a fury against a host of enemies, some obvious, others ill-defined. On social media, he commands a veritable army of internet trolls. His followers are both sore losers and sore winners: as long as dissenters exist, they cannot consider themselves victorious. And that will never happen, because Wrath is always ready to point out a new enemy.

Gluttony looks like a kindly grandmother. Everything that comes out of her kitchen looks, tastes, and smells absolutely delicious, so it hardly seems like a burden when she chivvies you to eat, even when you’re already full. But she always makes far too much, and throws out all of her leftovers. Meals that could have fed a soup kitchen for a week congeal in a dumpster outside, crawling with maggots.

Avarice is a corporate lobbyist. He convinces the rich that they owe the public nothing, and the poor that they are but temporarily embarrassed millionaires. At his smiling suggestion, laws restricting businesses’ power are jettisoned, or else rendered powerless. He speaks of “the free market” as though it were a wise and benevolent deity, though he has also been known to argue Social Darwinism and Prosperity Gospel without even pausing for breath.

Vanity is a motivational speaker. She tells her audiences that they are all especially gifted and deserve everything they want -- they just have to focus on it really hard. Anyone who tells them that they’re being selfish, or evading other responsibilities, is just dragging them down; anyone to whom bad things happen brought it on themselves by being so negative. Her Facebook page shares a lot of pseudoscience and conspiracy theory, framing believers as smarter than the masses.

Sloth comes off as a good-natured stoner. He’s always happy to share his shabby couch and his coffee-table covered with game controllers, TV remotes, and an endless assortment of substances to drink, smoke, or inject. Schoolwork can wait. Tell your boss you’re sick again. Someone else’ll do the other stuff. Just take it easy. Don’t be a buzzkill.

Envy runs a string of popular magazines. The cover models are Photoshopped into impossible beauty; the ads feature products well out of most readers’ price range. The text portions contain “health plans” that are recipes for failure, celebrity gossip that is by turns fawning and venomous, and advice columns warning against “man-stealers” or “girl-stealers”.

Lust is a pick-up artist. He doesn’t simply advocate promiscuity, but employs an entire dialect encouraging straight men to think of women as objects to be evaluated, used, and discarded. Though his focus is primarily on heterosexual males, he also argues that it’s “naturally masculine” for gay men to treat their partners in a similar fashion.

Thoughtlets: Cult Ketchup Recipe

Recipe: Ketchup Base

Ingredient:
Plum Tomatoes, 10lb can
1 small onion, small dice
Olive Oil, 2 tbsp
Tomato paste, 6 cans
Dark Brown Sugar, 1.5 cups
Cider Vinegar, 2 ½ cups
Salt, 2 tbsp


Directions:
Heat the sauce pan to medium and add the oil. Add the onions and sweat. Add the
tomatoes, tomato paste, brown sugar, cider vinegar and salt. Allow to simmer for 30
minutes. Puree with a beurre mixer until smooth. Strain through a fine china cap, pushing
the mixture through.

a beurre mixer is also know as an immersion blender. you can just dump it all in a regular blender, though

huh. the recipe doesn't specify the san marzanos. i'm surprised, avalon insisted upon them. it affects the flavor hugely.

Atrocity Rose

Ah, beloved, the hour grows late, and you grow weary. Do not deny it, dearest, for my eyes are keen and can see each and every one of your mortal frailties. If it pleases you, I shall tell you of what you ask. But remember there are things that are better off being unknown. There are things out there in the planes. Monstrous things beyond the likes of which the common tongue's vocabulary can describe.

I would share the experience with you, beloved. You know that I can open my mind to yours, to let you browse the width and breadth of all I am like an open book. I can, but I plead with you to not ask this of me. There lies within me a fragment of a greater creature, a mere shadow of a reflection of a mote of her majesty. She has no name, dearest, for where she dwells she is everything. She is the beginning, she is the end, and whatever is not of her is consumed and devoured until it is. Like I was.

After the War Session 1 Highlights

DM: So you've been hiding in a ruined fort for a week or two, hiding from the Angelic and Draconic forces fighting out on the plain.

VK: Plain as in grasslands or plane as in sliver of another dimension.

DM: Ah, the grasslands.

Danish Orc Sorc (DOS): It could also be an airplane.

DM: I should've been more specific. Curse you english language. You're on the elemental plane of plain planes. There's nothing to eat but airline food.

VK: (Vader NOOOOOOO!)

DOS: That idea was going to go into DnD, but it didn't make it off the runway.

DM: It really crashed and burned. It's actually a grassland, and I'll try to be more specific about that in the future.

VK: You've had a concussion and have been up all night, you're on autopilot.

(The deluge of plane puns continues for a minute)

DM: Anyway, you're all holed up in a fort on the edge of the plain...

VK: Like on the wing? (Shatner) There's.... some... THING... onthewing!

---

(DOS has snuck past the planned monster encounters with a natural 20, so has Undead in Denial Catgirl, meanwhile VK is not stealthy)

DM: You encounter a nasty frog looking thing, roll Knwoledge to identify!

DOS: rolls awfully

UDC: I have no knowledge skills.

VK: I have all the knowledge skills, but am a massive robot snake who is not in the least biut stealthy! It's like the Gift of the Magi all over again!

---

(DOS has snuck up to the surface to look at the battlefield, there is a dead corpse the size of a mountain range in golden armor, the plains have flooded, and there's a second moon in the sky.)

DOS: I take a deep breath to smell if the water is slat water, so like if it's from an ocean.

DM: You smell rotting corpses.

DOS: I regret everything.

DM: Roll for Regret.

DOS: What's a Regret roll?

VK: It's like a Will save, but you add your Emoness stat instead of Wisdom.

DOS: Excellent. I'm an evil orcish sorcerer, I have a massive emo stat. rolls

DM: You deeply regreat inhaling.

---

(DOS returns to the part)

DOS: So uh... guys, how many moons do we have?

Kobold Re-animated Mad Scientist (KREMS): Just the one!

VK: Well, TECHNICALLY we have six moons, as they're considered orbital bodies, but five are not visible to the naked eye and are incredibly miniscule!

DOS: No, you can see this one.

VK: Awww! Our moon made a friend!

DM: It's got a big gash down the middle of it, it looks wartorn and tattered.

VK: Our moon made a LADY friend!

KREMS: Maybe the second moon is affecting the tides and that's why the place is flooding?

VK: COVER YOUR LADYPARTS, IMMODEST HARLOT MOON!

Thoughtlets: Pizza Inspired Recipes

From Here

Thoughtlets: Mass Dunkaroo Dip

From here.

1 box funfetti cake mix (DO NOT add the ingredients that you usually would to actually make the cake - you need just the mix)
2 cups plain yogurt
½ container of cool whip.
Serve with animal crackers or graham crackers.

DTW DeathTube #8, Double Dragon RP 1/1: Of Edgelords and Excrement

A truck, seriously? You can drive a mother fuzzing truck into a wrestling match and have it be considered a legitimate weapon?

After all the trouble I went through to have my clowns construct a nice arsenal of amusingly horrific hardcore weaponry and packaging it up in a nice display, all arranged in a very aesthetically pleasing fashion, some wankwomble drives his Compensationmobile onto the field and not only eliminates me, but outright kills beloved mascot Mitsubishi Kowabunga.

Oh I'm sure someone would say that it was a mercy killing, what with Kawamata being a crispy critter from that flamethrower. But third degree burns don't really hurt. All the bits that are capable of going "Oi, brain! Something's really gone wrong down here!" are as fried as a bucket of the Colonel's finest.

Though honestly the thing I was the most upset about was the fact that somebody ELSE had went and offed somebody on the Deathmatch Demolition football pitch aside from me.

Consider it a look into the crystal ball of America's future. A guy who was just out there trying to make things better for himself and his girl is angrily run down by some tiny-dicked jackwagon in a gas-guzzling, oversized truck that is probably equipped to roll coal on every Prius and Smart Car that has the misfortune to get stuck behind it. Something that American lawmakers are attempting to make a legal reality. Protester in you way? Perfectly legal to run them the fuzz over.

Thoughtlets: Naga/Lamia Weight

So using the Rule of 9's for body size percentages, and the Standard of Seven Heads for the size of a person in a drawing, and the fact that a snake only holds up 1/5 to 1/6 of its body off the ground, a properly proportioned lamia matching the height and human build dimensions of a given individual will weigh about an additional 18% per head of length. (36% of weight in torso, torso is two heads long)

So a 6'0" 140 pound person with that build translated into snek-person with properly sized tail would be a 36' long lamia, and weigh 1022 pounds.

18% * 5 Lengths * 7 heads = 6.3 times the weight from the added segments, totaling 7.3 times the weight when you add in the original length and mass.

Thoughtlets: Know Your Rolls

Don't wanna misplace the Slacktivist recipes:

Ingredients
2 cups warm milk
2 tablespoons instant dry yeast
¼ cup white granulated sugar
2 teaspoons salt
6 tablespoons salted butter, softened
2 large eggs
6 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon melted butter

Instructions
1. In the bowl of a
2. stand mixer, combine warm milk, yeast, sugar, salt, butter, and eggs.
3. Add in 5½ cups of flour. Using a dough hook, turn the mixer on to a low speed. Once the flour starts to incorporate into the dough, increase the speed to a medium range. Slowly add the remaining ½ cup of flour until the dough pulls away from the sides of the bowl. The dough mixture should be slightly sticky and soft.
4. Transfer the dough to a lightly greased mixing bowl. Cover with a towel and let rise 90 minutes.
5. Lightly grease a baking sheet. Punch down the dough and form into 24 rolls. Place on the greased baking sheet in six rows of four.
6. Cover and let rise 1 hour.
7. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Bake the rolls for 12 to 14 minutes, until lightly browned.
8. Remove rolls from oven and brush with melted butter.
9. Serve the rolls warm, or to cool, let rest on the pan for 15 minutes before transferring to a wire cooling rack. Once cooled completely, store in a plastic bag.


Lazy Chocolate Chip Cookie Bars
1 stick of butter
2 eggs
1 yellow cake mix
1 bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips
How to make it
1. Melt butter in bowl
2. Whisk together with eggs
3. Stir in cake mix
4. Mix in chocolate chips
5. Press into greased pan
6. Bake at 350– 9×13 for 20 min, smaller pans 25-28 min.

Cracker Barrel Biscuits
2 ¼ cups of Bisquick.
⅔ cup of buttermilk.
1 tsp of sugar.
1 tbsp of melted butter.
Melted butter for brushing.
In a bowl, mix together the Bisquick, buttermilk and sugar and add in the melted butter. Stir to get a soft dough.
On a floured work surface, knead the dough 20 times.
Roll the dough ½ thick and cut out into 2’ rounds.
In an ungreased baking sheet, place the rounds close together and brush the tops with melted butter.
In a preheated oven to 450°, bake for 8 to 10 minutes.
Once ready, brush the tops with melted butter again while still hot.

DTW DeathTube #7, Double Dragon RP 1/1: World's Shittiest Zodiac

Just another normal Saturday afternoon in the Kriegsdottir household. Dragon Kitty chewing on a car tire, Spark playing Overwatch with some contraption he's rigged up from a phone keyboard, a dish rack, the guts of a computer mouse, and a super ball, and of course Claudia wearing my DTW World Championship Title around the place.

I'd held the thing for seven weeks now, and I still had to bite my tongue to keep from calling it a World Heavyweight Championship. Because that was what ALL the wrestling companies called their biggest and baddest, most prestigious belt. Even if it wasn't quite accurate and anybody could compete for the thing. Even if your roster consisted primarily of a bunch of scrawny, bitchy ex-models trying to out-emo one another with their tragic backstories and ongoing series of miseries.

I growled to myself and banished the thought from my head. If I started thinking about that horrible place I'd spend the entire evening bitching about teleporting masked sex dungeon enthusiasts, meat curtains, bimbo factories, and conniving quasi-managers who had figured out that by acting entirely through subordinates they got to wield power, influence wrestling, and be the focus of every single wrestling show but only have to step into the ring twice a year, thus easily avoiding all consequences for their actions.

That was one of the things I liked about DTW. The boss man loved violence, so there would be no endless series of matches where I fought someone's flunkies as a professional wrestler did everything in their power to not have a professional wrestling match. There would be no six month spans of endless run ins and hiding behind bodyguards.

Oh no. In DTW I could just grab a flunky or a bodyguard and use them to beat the offending cuntmonkey into a gooey red paste. And not only would I not be punished for such a thing, I would likely receive a congratulatory letter detailing just how hilarious Goro Yamashi had found the funny noises my victims had made while screaming for their lawyers.