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I'm done, I'm done.
Jan. 15th, 2002 11:31 pmSCENE
A home office, dark and cold. A fat man is sitting at a computer. Behind him is a little ink-stained man in red pajamas, poking the fat man intermittently with a hay fork.
PRINTER'S DEVIL: You've done a man's work, sir. I guess you think you're done?
ME (weary and battered): Finished.
FADE TO BLACK
Why am I quoting Bladerunner? Beats me. I'm sleepy. I just finished the Bisclavret rewrite, polishing off the "Wolves in Winter" adventure that tops off the supplement. I beat the deadline by 34 minutes. Yay! I could run this adventure backwards, forwards, in the dark, upside down, in a train, down the drain, or in a hot tub with a gang of furries in mascot suits, and never stumble once.
This is my adventure kids. 15,000 words of it, almost half of the entire supplement book, stuck in my head forever. Yay! Or boo? Not sure. Sleepy. Good night!
A home office, dark and cold. A fat man is sitting at a computer. Behind him is a little ink-stained man in red pajamas, poking the fat man intermittently with a hay fork.
PRINTER'S DEVIL: You've done a man's work, sir. I guess you think you're done?
ME (weary and battered): Finished.
FADE TO BLACK
Why am I quoting Bladerunner? Beats me. I'm sleepy. I just finished the Bisclavret rewrite, polishing off the "Wolves in Winter" adventure that tops off the supplement. I beat the deadline by 34 minutes. Yay! I could run this adventure backwards, forwards, in the dark, upside down, in a train, down the drain, or in a hot tub with a gang of furries in mascot suits, and never stumble once.
This is my adventure kids. 15,000 words of it, almost half of the entire supplement book, stuck in my head forever. Yay! Or boo? Not sure. Sleepy. Good night!
