Let's set one emphatic thing straight: Illuminati University (IOU) had nothing to do with COVID-19. In fact, it's economically hampered by the virus, with agents from C.T.H.U.L.H.U. rushing back in time to correct things from lowering the ArchDean's stock values.
Still even with the a larger drop-out rate and extra IT demands for online learning, the ArchDean were the revenue shortfalls could be made up.... Student Health Services. COVID-related medical bills could dwarf the student loans they had already rolled over for the six years it took to obtain their Bachelor's Degree.
And play their cards right and the Mortuary majors would have a lot of new subjects for their labs.
Keith Stone and Milktruck Mastadon were still on campus, sitting in the basement of the dorm, waiting for the fellow members of their study group for their class, Radically Collaborative Patterns in Instant Mashed Potatoes.
Hubert, a talking goldfish in a bowl, walking around in mechanical apparatus. Majoring in Chilean Fencing.
Bob Evans, prior to his years as Sausage King of West.
Missing was their final member, Duane. Most importantly, he was responsible for study notes.
Bob Evans and Miltruck began experimenting Spudratic Equations on the stove in the dorm kitchenette, putting together an American equivalent of Bangers and Mash.
Milktruck, Keith, and Hubert went upstairs to the 3rd floor of the dorm
Reaching Duane's room, Keith mistook the plastic on the door for new fangelled beads and poked his head inside.
He was surprised to see this:
What are you doing? This is a secure location!!!
"The door was technically open."
"Where's Duane?"
"Duane is no longer with us."
"Where is he?"
"He's been sent back to Wuhan."
Keith couldn't use his smooth moves, they were all dudes, but one of the staff, with a nametag of Li was willing to hold up Duane's notebook so they could take pictures of it.
The notes started in pencil, and devolved into jagged red Sharpie that had bled through the paper. In fact the red Sharpie had bled through another paper onto those pages.
It was hard to make out, but Keith Stone surmised three things:
(1) Duane's family took a lot of road trips. (His dad drove a bus.)
(2) They were all obvious murderous foreigners (because they ate Cup of Noodles).
(3) Wuhan was a bitchin' place to live.
"Did he get infected with Anthrax?" Milktruck asked.
Li sprayed him in the face with the decontaminate?
Keith chimed in, "Waitaminute, is his family responsible for the China Virus?"
The biohazard crew just shook their heads...
Knowing what they learned, the did the smart thing and returned to the basement to continue their study group.
Milktruck was completely lost, reading the Chinese menu, while Keith kept pointing out obvious facts that won't be on the test. Distracted, they called in some dumplings, soup, and some spare ribs for Hubert.
Five minutes later, there was a knock at the door of the study room. Entering the room was one of the biohazard crew, holding a Chinese food order.
"Dude, you might not want to eat this, everything's probably contaminated."
Oddly enough, he took off his facemask. The afro that could be seen through the visor turned out of be green.
"I'm Brock.... Brock Li.
"Dude, do you sing with the talking tomato and pickle?"
"Man, don't group me with those guys, the only people who like that are Jesus freaks and sexual perverts."
"How did you get a job working on the Biohazard Squad?"
"It's my assigned student job. If you find Duane, tell him his room is cleaned from his explosive flatulence."
"Waitaminute, how'd you get our Chinese?"
"Some shady looking chinese guy was walking down the stairwell. He gave it to me and didn't ask for money."
After eating Chinese and giving up on studying, everyone went to bed....
FAST FORWARD TO THE EXAM
The four surviving members of the study group exited the lecture hall, confident that they probably didn't fail.
Outside the building was Duane!
"Sorry I bailed dudes. I had a bad batch of fish. Kept me knocked out for awhile. I knocked my easel over for my art class, we're in our brown phase so all that paint got everywhere."
"Sorry I bailed out, but that's why I sent the free Chinese on study night..."
"What do you mean?"
"Dudes, you don't remember anything about me, do you? I work at the Chinese restaurant."
"Is it a family business?"
"No you racist twit, I'm Filipino!!!"
"Sorry...."
"Anyway, I'll never eat Chinese Herring from the cafeteria ever again, it distracted me from everything else I needed to do."
Camera pans into the study groups bodies. Undigested take-out was mutating inside their digestive tract. Something was alive in that food. Was it a Chinese Virus... or just Chinese Botulism forming?
GM Notes: The scheduled online game for our annual Day of Sloth IOU game went off with many hitches. With two players and a roll on the IOU random occurrence table I designed, we kept with a "ripped from the headlines" approach.
The high point of the game was setting up an impromptu Mad Libs to interpret Duane's journal. I heartily recommend that for role-playing/collaborative warm-up if you need to burn a couple of minutes/waiting on another player. Good times.
Still even with the a larger drop-out rate and extra IT demands for online learning, the ArchDean were the revenue shortfalls could be made up.... Student Health Services. COVID-related medical bills could dwarf the student loans they had already rolled over for the six years it took to obtain their Bachelor's Degree.
And play their cards right and the Mortuary majors would have a lot of new subjects for their labs.
Keith Stone and Milktruck Mastadon were still on campus, sitting in the basement of the dorm, waiting for the fellow members of their study group for their class, Radically Collaborative Patterns in Instant Mashed Potatoes.
Part of the same study group. already in the dorm kitchenette:
Bob Evans, prior to his years as Sausage King of West.
Missing was their final member, Duane. Most importantly, he was responsible for study notes.
Bob Evans and Miltruck began experimenting Spudratic Equations on the stove in the dorm kitchenette, putting together an American equivalent of Bangers and Mash.
Milktruck, Keith, and Hubert went upstairs to the 3rd floor of the dorm
Reaching Duane's room, Keith mistook the plastic on the door for new fangelled beads and poked his head inside.
He was surprised to see this:
"The door was technically open."
"Where's Duane?"
"Duane is no longer with us."
"Where is he?"
"He's been sent back to Wuhan."
Keith couldn't use his smooth moves, they were all dudes, but one of the staff, with a nametag of Li was willing to hold up Duane's notebook so they could take pictures of it.
The notes started in pencil, and devolved into jagged red Sharpie that had bled through the paper. In fact the red Sharpie had bled through another paper onto those pages.
It was hard to make out, but Keith Stone surmised three things:
(1) Duane's family took a lot of road trips. (His dad drove a bus.)
(2) They were all obvious murderous foreigners (because they ate Cup of Noodles).
(3) Wuhan was a bitchin' place to live.
"Did he get infected with Anthrax?" Milktruck asked.
Li sprayed him in the face with the decontaminate?
Keith chimed in, "Waitaminute, is his family responsible for the China Virus?"
The biohazard crew just shook their heads...
Knowing what they learned, the did the smart thing and returned to the basement to continue their study group.
Milktruck was completely lost, reading the Chinese menu, while Keith kept pointing out obvious facts that won't be on the test. Distracted, they called in some dumplings, soup, and some spare ribs for Hubert.
Five minutes later, there was a knock at the door of the study room. Entering the room was one of the biohazard crew, holding a Chinese food order.
"Dude, you might not want to eat this, everything's probably contaminated."
Oddly enough, he took off his facemask. The afro that could be seen through the visor turned out of be green.
"I'm Brock.... Brock Li.
"Dude, do you sing with the talking tomato and pickle?"
"Man, don't group me with those guys, the only people who like that are Jesus freaks and sexual perverts."
"How did you get a job working on the Biohazard Squad?"
"It's my assigned student job. If you find Duane, tell him his room is cleaned from his explosive flatulence."
"Waitaminute, how'd you get our Chinese?"
"Some shady looking chinese guy was walking down the stairwell. He gave it to me and didn't ask for money."
After eating Chinese and giving up on studying, everyone went to bed....
FAST FORWARD TO THE EXAM
The four surviving members of the study group exited the lecture hall, confident that they probably didn't fail.
Outside the building was Duane!
 |
| Duane |
"Sorry I bailed out, but that's why I sent the free Chinese on study night..."
"What do you mean?"
"Dudes, you don't remember anything about me, do you? I work at the Chinese restaurant."
"Is it a family business?"
"No you racist twit, I'm Filipino!!!"
"Sorry...."
"Anyway, I'll never eat Chinese Herring from the cafeteria ever again, it distracted me from everything else I needed to do."
Camera pans into the study groups bodies. Undigested take-out was mutating inside their digestive tract. Something was alive in that food. Was it a Chinese Virus... or just Chinese Botulism forming?
GM Notes: The scheduled online game for our annual Day of Sloth IOU game went off with many hitches. With two players and a roll on the IOU random occurrence table I designed, we kept with a "ripped from the headlines" approach.
The high point of the game was setting up an impromptu Mad Libs to interpret Duane's journal. I heartily recommend that for role-playing/collaborative warm-up if you need to burn a couple of minutes/waiting on another player. Good times.
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