Below you will find the results of my having challenged myself for a number of days to write a short story with a beginning and middle and an end inside of 30 minutes. Here is what I came up with. I hope you like it.
Skippy had never won a fight against an umber hulk in his life.
His previous player characters – Pendar Of The South, Celtic The Conjurer, Wolverine – were each ripped to ribbons by the horrifying creatures. Skippy probably still had nightmares about Celtic’s Robe Of Useful Items, shredded, dangling off the behemoth’s mandibles.
Skippy’s older brother, Flame On, had been Dungeon Master, and had taken pride in the amount of cruelty he could direct at his easily-agitated sibling. The campaign in which an Executioner’s Hood fell from the stalactites onto Pendar’s head while a Ju Ju Zombie simultaneously kicked the Halfling fighter thief in the crotch became local legend.
Flame On had joined Up With People and then moved to Altadena. His family saw him about once every two years. Their conversations dealt exclusively with his convincing them to join an offshoot of est.
The new Dungeon Master was a meticulous young kid named Roy, who vibed Mr. Spock, but was a genuinely nice, warm-hearted dude. He brought lots of soda and snacks by, and would go out of his way to acknowledge Skippy and Flame On’s parents.
The party was exploring a haunted temple that squatted in the overgrown jungles of Tazatania. They’d made short work of some bush league orc bandits who were pillaging a tomb. They’d kept their wits about them enough to dispatch a Cave Fisher.
Unfortunately, an umber hulk blocked their passage to the stone staircase.
Skippy staved off an anxiety attack by taking a series of warm showers in the upstairs bathroom. Once he returned, the party members informed him that he would hold back and guard their loot while Mulder The Ranger and Paladin John Elway slaughtered the unsightly mound.
A tense debate ensued, with Skippy demanding to face the beast. Someone spilled a Styrofoam cup of grape soda.
Skippy broke procedure by going over the heads of his party and appealing directly to Roy.
Finally, Skippy got his way, and an uncomfortable, resigned gloom settled over the basement.
Skippy grabbed the 20 sided die and, without hesitation, rolled an 19.
“Fuck Flame On,” Skippy erupted! The umber hulk was already pissing blood.