I wrote this unfinished parody of The Raven a few years ago. I wonder if you guys think I should finish it.
It was on an evening boring
As I sat there, inventorying,
Games of dwarves and halflings warring, ordered many months before.
Unsold stock – well I had plenty; Modern Western Dark d20,
Lite d20, Hard d20, and more d20s galore.
OGL, and nothing core.
“Would you rather something Forgey?
Look – this one has rules for orgies.
Or this old-school zine with artwork straight from 1984?
Or this one we’ve had for ages that has seven hundred pages,
That the author spent a decade on, and blew his savings for?
Yes, all right, it’s pretty poor.”
“But this one has stats for trollkin.
It owes not one thing to Tolkien!
And these guys with pointy ears are…OK, never mind that. Or”,
Then I said, my eyes alighting on a book with robots fighting,
“OK this one looks exciting.” But the ruleset was a bore.
D&D, and not much more.*
(*Rifts is tm Kevin Sembieda. I obey the law)
But, undaunted, I persisted
And, “With house rules,” I insisted,
“Any system can be twisted into what you bought it for.
World of Darkness with Godzilla! Traveller, but you’re all gorillas!
D&D does Speed! Why would you need your console any more?”
Quoth the gamer: “Gears of War.”
“Fiend!” I cried. “Go back to Blizzard
With its poly-counts and wizards
made of pixels, not of paper and named ‘b0br0x94’.
Go! Rejoin your guild of hot chicks
who are rock chicks, and are not chicks!”
(here I wondered; hadn’t Dr Suess said much the same before?)
“Get off my lawn! And shut the door.”
So the last game store in Britain
still is sitting, still is shitting,
still is bleeding streams of currency, of metaphoric gore.
It is Stunned, and Prone, and Bloodied,
and…this prose is getting muddied.
It is losing lots of money, going bankrupt and, therefore,
will be open – not much more.