Origins... This is how it happened

Children, the elderly, adoring fans,

This is the story of how your editorial staff met, through the eyes of your working boy:

1996,

I had just gotten laid off. Mr. Ngyuen, who owned the DC-Marvel Emporium told me to get my lazy ass out, and that was that. It wasn’t that I had done anything wrong, just that I hadn’t done much right. I had recently dropped out of Lee County CC too, it wasn’t right for me, at least not then. What was right for me was making it Atlantic City, to the Holiday Inn & Conference Center off of I-95, to salvation, to home. You see I was a junkie, and my smack was fantasy. All of the kids these days have their digital online fantasy worlds. We were different. We had imagination.

The Holiday Inn was the site of the 28^th Annual Dungeons and Dragons Freestyle tournament. All the big names were there, not that you’d know, or care. In truth, it took more than I’m comfortable to tell to get there.

The conference room was packed. Costumes galore. More glasses and braces and loneliness had probably ever been gathered together, at least since last years tourney. I sat down at my table. All of your editors were there. 3 ladys, and 4 males, other than myself. The three ladies, colloquially known (and locally known) as the dude, philosoraptor and leftie were lesbians, with probably 4 inches of glasses between them. I knew this was a rouse; the ladies in fantasy know no bounds when it comes to distraction. The four others were of the males. Appearances aren’t important. Our characters were.

Let me take a moment to differentiate the freestyle tourney. In freestyle you don’t have to be a stupid warlock, a vertically challenged dwarf, a homo elf; you can be anything you want.

I was feeling good. I had just created my newest character. Bird Dog. 120 hit points. Attack one, gun. Attack two, baseball. Defensive move, run like a bitch.

Philosoraptor was a pterodactyl with a miners flashlight helmet, except that it was a death laser. One tough bitch. Lefty was a leprechaun with a bucket full of gold-en and enraged mutant lobsters. You didn’t want to find those unlucky charms. The dude was a bowling ball that emitted an intoxicating smoke. Double down came out as a vintage 1946 Cadillac sedan, that got ONLY 4mpg! Gasp! And cesar, toughest of all, nearly indestructible, was a set of mahogany chester drawers.

The game was intense. There were laughs, there were smiles, and one death. We aren’t gonna talk about it, not now, not me.

We left that game with a lifelong bond. Even now, we play every Monday, same characters.

There it is, how we met. Others may remember it differently, let them tell there story. But for me, 1996, at the Holiday Inn of off 1-95, is where my true live began, as Kyle Gun Baseball, bird-dog extraordinaire.