Thursday, November 08, 2012

Carnage 2012, Pt 2: Too Much Too-Much-Good

On the Road to Morocco, err Lake Morey

Getting on the road a little before 10am was not as hard as I figured it would be. I was cheerful because my breakfast was a leftover tuna fish melt from the Tully's somewhere up the road from the motel. When you own cats, tuna fish is a rare delicacies. Monk and Peryton had goodies from their own caches, so don't think I left them eating their fingertips. As our GPS was down, Pery was utilizing her smart phone and spreading out maps in the back seat, while Monk and I giggled about our incredibly witty jokes.

During the climb up the Vermont mountains towards the "central valley(?)", where I-91 runs and where anyone who doesn't drive to New York for milk or has a dog sled lives, I noticed the weather extremely unremarkable. The creeks and ravines were incredibly low for the time of year even. I mean I saw half of roads washed away after Hurricane Ilene. But this year, the 14th Colony of America's weather was better than Cleveland Ohio's. And with an hour and a half to spare, we arrived at Fairlee VT and the beloved Lake Morey Resort.

The Too Much Too-Much Bit

We did dinner with CCRABB, Tyler, and Tom Mechler, TomM from here on out, at the Hungry Bear Tavern.  We had been trying for an Indian food place which had shut off its lights 20 minutes earlier than its sign on the door said it would. Still the Bear had one of those wet burrito things called an enchilada with cream cheese and mild salsa, which was not bad. I was a bit over-excited at seeing everyone, so I drank. Now I know that doesn't surprise anybody, but when I showed at Andre's Thursday night pre-convention game, I became That Guy.

The game was fun though. Ccrabb and TomM probably would be too polite to call me annoying. Peryton was annoyed that I kept having to leave the room, because it broke the utter darkness of the theatrical set. Andre and Nyssa were handling me, but openly bothered. I think Toe-head, Ray Hickey, was a little jealous as he had do some of the best role-playing I have seen to date-- usually he's That Guy, just without as much vigor as I was putting into it. Now all that said, I was having the time of my life, and didn't mind getting killed three times.

What I regret is that I came back to argue with Andre about the scenario and its characters, instead of just enjoying myself in the Andre Billiards Room of Doom afterwards. I suppose I was paraphrasing Elton "Thursday Night Alright For Fighting." Definitely had a belly full of gin. But where was my mind at? Monk got me back to the room, laughing at me of course.

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