You are the self-proclaimed KING of the WASTELAND. Ever since the great BIG BOOM in the far off year of 2007, the world has gotten pretty nasty–ruins and mutants litter the desert wasteland all around you, roving bands of warlord kings and factions in all sorts of endless wars.You never did much mind, though, as you kept to yourself in your reclusive “castle” (a pre-BIG BOOM convenience store) with your friend and roommate, DUKE NASU, watching one of your 24 copies of SUPERBAD (2007) and pumping iron–that is, at least, until a demolition company drove up to your front door. You found out your castle was apparently on land that fell under the titleship of a “GUN KING”, who sought to evict you and bulldoze it into the ground. You took ownership of the demolitionist’s wrecking ball and drove out to the GUN KING’S castle to confront him on the matter.You managed to infiltrate his castle whereupon you engaged in one-on-one combat with the king, PANZER GRAAD–however, defeating him only led to the appearance of another freak, the “MUTANT KING,” who kidnapped your dear friend DUKE NASU to bring him to its kingdom. You need to get him back.LAST THREAD: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2021/5005718/
You stare at your palms, your wild lunge for the MUTANT KING’s throat missing its mark and leaving your hands bereft of neck to wring. Your mind races. You CAN’T lose DUKE NASU–he’s the only eggplant.. mutant.. thing in your castle. You doubt there are very many other eggplant mutant things around nearby to replace him with. You need to get him back.. track down that vagabond, and break it in two, and–“Ha! Serves you right, you gorilla hobo bitch.” You glance over your shoulder to see the GUN KING drawing himself up from off the ground, steadying his immense body with his GATLHAMMER. He coughs, his form bent but voice proud. “You got lucky beating me. But the MUTANT KING? That psycho is going to tear your pet eggplant up into ten pieces and then ram it down every hole you have. Then I’m turning your dumbass little castle into an EVO venue.”>Threaten to recrush his dick.>Actually recrush his dick.>Interrogate him. You need to know everything about the MUTANT KING he knows.>[Write-In.]
>>6334589Holy shit, four years later but we're BACK, baby!>Interrogate him. You need to know everything about the MUTANT KING he knows.>Threaten to recrush his dick if he doesn't oblige.
>>6334589>>6334599+1 to this
>>6334599+1Wew, miss this guy's art.
>>6334589>Actually recrush his dickReal gorilla hobo bitches go in blind.
>Interrogate him. You need to know everything about the MUTANT KING he knows.>Threaten to recrush his dick if he doesn't oblige.You grab the knelt GUN KING by the shoulder and press your forehead against his helmet, eyes narrow. “You’re going to tell me everything you know about the MUTANT KING. Starting with where it lives.” You snarl. “Or I’m button mashing whatever’s left of your dick into paste.”“Pah! Whatever. I’ve got spares–though, not much skin off my back if I let you in on a little, though..” The GUN KING mocks your threat, but you can tell you’ve cowed him well enough with his half-crushed dick to bend to the threat of a whole-crushed dick. “Fine. You want to know how I became the GUN KING, you little pissant?”“That’s not what I asked.” You cock your head.“It wasn’t because of my rippling, all natural chicken-and-broccoli based physique. Just look around you! Look at our capital! PARABELLUM!” He uses his free hand to wave to his capital city in a grandiose show of pride. “We have industry and commerce! Engineers and agriculture! Rollback netcode! THIS is a society–a KINGDOM. I was crowned GUN KING by the true WASTELAND KING because I had the makings of a king.”“Still not what I asked." You crack your knuckles.“The MUTANT KING.. the MUTANT KING earned its crown by might and might alone. Not because it’s a ruler. Not because it built a kingdom. That “king” is the only thing in the wasteland to have challenged the WASTELAND KING in combat and survived.” He spits on the ground. “It earned a spot of land east of here. The MUTANT KINGDOM. A shithole of killers and thieves–all the detritus wash up on its shores. The only ones who choose to live there are the crazy, the stupid, and the ones with no where else to turn. And the fast food selection is garbage. We're talking some bottom of the barrel Chinese food.”"Right. East of here, then. How much 'East?'" You glare.“About a couple days with a good vehicle by my reckoning. Doubt you’ll get there before the mutant king gets bored and decides to scarf your pet eggplant down with some parmesan.” He grins smugly. “And when you do make it.. the MUTANT KING isn’t much of a KING by my estimation, but it is a KILLER. We’re talking something that took on the WASTELAND KING. It’s going to turn you inside out and outside in again just for the fun it, GORILLA HOBO.”>Leave PARABELLUM immediately. You need to drive to the mutant kingdom.>Demand a driver. You can't drive the bulldozer alone. Duke Nasu handled that.>Crush GUN DICK anyway.>Check inventory.>[Write-In.]
>>6335126>Don’t crush GUN DICK…>TWIST GUN DICK>Leave PARABELLUM immediately. You need to drive to the mutant kingdom.
>>6335138+1>>6335126
>Don’t crush GUN DICK…>TWIST GUN DICK>Leave PARABELLUM immediately. You need to drive to the mutant kingdom."Hmph.. good enough. Your dick can stay intact." You glance down to the GUN KING'S barrel’s end. "Well, mostly.""What--?" The king has just enough time to question your awesome threat before you reach down and give his parts a twist (not like a sexy twist, more like a counter-clockwise twist).You part from the gun king’s capitol to his screams, crows flying and guncubines parting as you take your leave.[...]You eye up the GOLD WRECKING BALL, your vehicle of choice for getting from your CASTLE to PARABELLUM. You had DUKE NASU drive you out here–he’s always had a knack for machines. You–.. not so much. But, with him in the fell clutches of the MUTANT KING…You suppose you could risk driving out yourself, but you can’t say you’d get too far (and may even endanger your ride). Or, you could duck into the city to find a driver with a proper cert for heavy machinery.. but you doubt you could place much trust in any one of the GUN KING’S pissants.>Risk the drive yourself.>Grab someone to drive you out instead.>Check inventory.>[Write-In.]
>>6335618>Grab someone to drive you out instead.We are a fucking KING, we can't be seen driving ourselves around like some prole, so we have every right to snatch ourselves up a chauffer.
>>6335618>Grab someone to drive you out instead.What >>6335694 said. We can intimidate them into compliance.
>>6335618>Grab someone to drive you out instead.Don’t think we have our license
>>6335694>>6335697>>6335970>Grab someone to drive you out instead.You are a KING. You cannot be seen driving yourself around like some prole--no, you need to FIND a prole to go about driving yourself around. Your eyes narrow as you turn from the heavy machinery. You need to find some lump, easy to push around, small enough for you to overshadow.."Ah! There it is." You hear a voice shout. "Drive her up here, boys!"You look up to catch sight of an assemblage of construction equipment slowly barreling through the desert, steamrollers and bulldozers and cranes, led on by a handful of mutants in neon yellow and green construction wear. The man at the head is some kind of radish mutant--a lump of a man, easy to push around and small enough for you to overshadow."Oh, hey. You're still here, lady. Trying to return the WRECKING BALL you borrowed, huh?" The soft boy checks his clipboard. "Right. Well, I'm willing to overlook the 25 GGs you took for that thigh massage you gave me, but I'm going to have to take the wrecking ball back. We don't have big golden wrecking ball theft insurance, you see.">Ok, this idiot will do.>Nah. Grab another idiot who will do instead. [Write-In.]>Actually, getting driven by a loser just makes YOU look like a loser as well. Ship out alone.>[Write-In.]
>>6335991>Ok, this idiot will do.so gg is the money we have rn, ok
>>6335991>Ok, this idiot will do.
>>6335991>Ok, this idiot will do.Dumbass doesn't even realize that feudalism reigns supreme. His funny money means nothing compared to the aristocratic power and majesty when the KING of the motherfucking WASTELAND gives you the privilege of being shanghaied into their retinue.
>Ok, this idiot will do.You can make do with lard lad here. “Hey, radish mutant thing.” You stare down at him, arms folded. “Get in the wrecking ball. You’re driving me EAST.”“What? You want me to chauffeur you, gorilla?” The plump foreman raises a brow. “Hmmm.. well.. it’s for the best that I drive the thing, but I really ‘ought to get her out to our next contract. We have a church to bulldoze to build a barcade, so..”“I was not asking. You’re driving me EAST.” You lift him by the leaves on his head, and waggle the soft boy around. “We need to make for the MUTANT KINGDOM. You know where that is?”“Oh, hey, the MUTANT KINGDOM, huh..? Well, I was planning on visiting during my break to pick up my MP3 player, anyway..” The foreman’s brow furrows. “Well.. I can take an early one, I guess.”Your impressive physique seems to cow the foolish radish into acquiescing to your command, sliding himself with a huff into the chassis of the machine. “Be back in a few days, boys!” He waves them off.You stuff yourself into the chassis of the ball right behind the boy as you tread–very, very slowly–into the desert horizon, the golden wrecking ball swinging and glimmering in the midday sun.[...]Your trek bears your EAST, the ride slow and arduous and not at all helped by the dumbass lard you’ve ordered to drive you out.“So.. you got a name, GORILLA?” The foreman glances back to you. “My name’s LUB MOOLI. You know, like MOOLI CONSTRUCTION. See, I’m not actually the owner, though. That’d be my oldest brother, COLERIDGE MOOLI III. He got me a job out here after my jeep tour business–”“I do not care. The last one didn’t talk so much..” You fold your arms and recline into your seat, head laid against the glass of the machine as you do your best to ease your nerves.. at least, until something falls into your eyeline. “..Hey. LUB. Stop here.”You lean out the window. An immense TANK sits outside of the machine, sitting close to the outskirts of PARABELLUM. Is it empty?>Shout at it.>Step outside. Perhaps you’ve just found yourself a better ride.>Order LUB to go look at it.>[Write-In.]
>>6336350>Step outside. Perhaps you’ve just found yourself a better ride.
>>6336350>Step outside. Perhaps you’ve just found yourself a better ride.it's propably fueless, but still
>>6336350>>6336401Oh, and>drag LUB with usYou ain't driving off without us, punk.
>Step outside. Perhaps you’ve just found yourself a better ride.>drag LUB with us"Right. Let's check this out. Might make for a smoother ride." You kick the door of the machine open and eject yourself from the seat, heels ground into the hot desert sand. "Lub, come with me. I can't have you running off in the wrecking ball.""I would never! And by that, I mean I can't. The top speed of this thing about on par with a jog for you." The mutant heaves a low groan as he steps onto the sand. "Oh man, is it hot. I should've brought a DR. THUNDER or something..""Quit complaining. Duke Nasu didn't complain this much.." You grunt, leading your retinue out over to the tank. The war machine is quite sizable, sand threaded treads sunk into the desert, olive paint worn and scratched by dust storms. You note some tread marks behind it, though--it appears to have been driven here recently..You halt in your step as, with a low metallic creak, the hinge of the tank kicks up. You ready your fist as a figure emerges--tall and dark, clad in camo underwear and green cargo pants, a rocket launcher laid atop her shoulder with a bayonet affixed to its end. You get the sense her strength is IMPRESSIVE--maybe not as much as yours, but not too far. Another GUN KINGDOM mook..?"Hey. Welcome to GUN RUNNER'Z." The tall woman greets you. "The premiere traveling wares shop of the wastes. I'm GUN RUNNER. You looking to buy? Oh. What's up, Lub?""Hi, GUN RUNNER." Lub waves from next to you.>Fine. Let her show off her goods.>How does Lub know her?>Something about her strikes you as familiar..?>Back off. You can't be trusting random traveling wares shops like that.>[Write-In.]
>>6336703>Fine. Let her show off her goods.hehe
>>6336703>Ask her about the story behind her bat wing? shoulder tattooAn unusual tattoo is very important for the VAN LIFE (armoured tank life?) influencer mindset
>>6336703>Something about her strikes you as familiar..?Did you run a bee MHA quest?
>>6336703>>6336853>"show off her goods..."also marvel at the advanced technology of her strapless antigravity breast harness
>>6336703>Fine. Let her show off her goods.>Ask her about the story behind her bat wing shoulder tattoo and strapless breast harnessher technology is truly impressive.
>Fine. Let her show off her goods.>Ask her about the story behind her bat wing shoulder tattoo and strapless breast harnessYour brow furrows--a traveling shop..? Well, it's no ride, but you may be willing to exchange GG for goods and services. "Fine. Show me what you got.""Gotcha. Anyone who pals around with Lub is good in my book." The vendor grins, pulling some camo cloth from her cargo pants and setting it on the ground--with a thwack, she empties the contents of her rocket launcher onto the fabric. "Take your pick.""..There's no guns. Your shop is called GUN RUNNER'Z." You mutter. "Right. I used to only sell guns, but our supplier cut us off, so.. now I just sell random crap I find." She shrugs. "The name stuck.""Uh huh. What's the story with your tattoo?" You idly ask as you examine the cover of COD 3. The soldier does look pretty cool.."The tattoo is, like.. a cool looking skull. Nice, right?" GUN RUNNER flexes, distorting the image of the skull. "I think it looks badass.""Uh huh." You try to stop staring at her mystery bra strap. It's there, just thin.>She strikes you as really familiar. Do you know her from somewhere?>Select an item to buy. [Write-In.]>Check inventory.>Back out.>[Write-In.]
>>6336910Yeah, I ran one a while back.
>>6336350>Step outside. Perhaps you’ve just found yourself a better ride.Grand theft tank
>>6337006>>6337006ah, I see it now, the tattoo is indeed a sort of skull made out of bat wings. Very clever Rorschach test!>inspect the MRE pack to see if it incorporates one of those self-heating military ration food packages, in which case potentially the magnesium powder used to produce the exothermic heating effect might be useful as an improvised incendiary>Vehemently argue that Call Of Duty 3 was not that bad, the Sten gun and Lee-Enfield rifle with the 2x 5 rnd stripper clip reload were both relatively satisfying(also, I see now that the breast harness strap possessed such a superlative camouflage pattern, it was almost entirely invisible at a distance, excellent camo)>ask where her GUN SUPPLIER can be foundso desperate for some actual guns in the wasteland
>>6337006>Select an item to buy. [Write-In.]Grab an MRE, hopefully she has a burger one, and whatever we don't eat we can trade.Also, flex our pecs with our new muscle friend.
>>6337019Little late, anon.>>6337030>I see now that the breast harness strap possessed such a superlative camouflage pattern, it was almost entirely invisible at a distance, excellent camokek>>6337006>buy MRE and bayonetWe can replenish our supplies when we defeat and loot the home of the Mutant King. The bayonet is a good buy because, if nobody sues them, nobody will know how to defend them! The MRE is a good buy because borgerusing it to improvise a weapon is a neat idea, too
So is Greenhorn never ever? Just tell me now so I can get over it, please.
>>6336910>Did you run a bee MHA quest?wazzat ?>>6337006Buy CoD3 & bayonet
>Grab an MRE, hopefully she has a burger one, and whatever we don't eat we can trade.>ask where her GUN SUPPLIER can be foundYou pick up the plastic brown package of the MRE up in your hands--it's got a decent heft to it. You suppose it'll make for a half-acceptable alternative to your meal of choice, CANBURGERS (burgers in a can).You have no clue how to inspect an MRE pack to determine if it has magnesium powder to produce exothermic heating to retool it into an incendiary, but the outside is all shiny, which is nice."You said you had a GUN SUPPLIER?" You look up from her goods. She sits cross-legged across from you, reclining into the sand. "Where are they at now? Might want to get something myself. For throwing at guys.""Oh, uh.. from over where you came." Gun Runner thumbs over her shoulder. "Parabellum, Gun Kingdom's capital."Well, figures."Speaking of.." Lub peers over your shoulder. "Is it really alright for you to come so close to Parabellum, Gun Runner?""It's fine. I'm not exactly in the city, am I?" The merchant shrugs. "I've been selling out here for a few days now. Gonna head East before anyone starts sniffing, though.""I'll take this." You pick up the MRE and toss her some GG, GAMER GUIDES, the currency of choice of the wasteland. "Still deciding on anything else.">Purchase the bayonet.>Purchase COD 3.>Point out that her skull tattoo can be mistaken for three bats on top of each other, which she doesn't seem to realize.>Check inventory.>[Write-In.]
>>6337222>Purchase the bayonet.>Point out that her skull tattoo can be mistaken for three bats on top of each other, which she doesn't seem to realize.>Ask if she's not allowed in the Gun King's territory for some reason
>>6337222>>Purchase the bayonet.>>Point out that her skull tattoo can be mistaken for three bats on top of each other, which she doesn't seem to realize.
>Purchase the bayonet.>Point out that her skull tattoo can be mistaken for three bats on top of each other, which she doesn't seem to realize.>Ask if she's not allowed in the Gun King's territory for some reason"You know what? I'll take the toothpick, too." You heft the bayonet up in your hands. You aren't a fan of conventional weaponry (your ALL-NATURAL GUNS are more than enough to get you by in near any scenario) but you may be able to use this if you run into, like, some grass or something. You stuff your purchase into your PERSONAL SPACE. You are now BEREFT of any GG."A pleasure doing business with you." GUN RUNNER grins, leafing through the handful of glossy magazines you just gave her. "You new around here? I can't say I've seen you around the GUN KINGDOM before, and I'd think I'd remember someone throwing GG around like this.""No. I've been here a while. Are you new around here?" You fold your arms. "You don't seem too eager to be here.""Ah, well.." She leans back. "I'm a born and bred native of the kingdom, and was the best ARMS DEALER in the wastes for a long time. I got exiled a few years back after I beat a certain someone in an SF2 match. I can hang around the kingdom outskirts a little since I've got some history with the king, but I can't go home. So I get to sell junk I find around the wastes instead of guns. I guess I just like to come and look at the outside every now and then, though. I can go without the SF2 matches, but everyone deserves a home to come back to, don't you think?""Hmmm." You observe. "Anyone ever tell you your tattoo kind of looks like three bats riding on top of each other?""What?" GUN RUNNER'S brow furrows as she attempts to angle her arm to look at her shoulder. "Wait, really? No it doesn't. Wait, does it?">Bid her adieu. You got to go to the MUTANT KINGDOM.>Ask her for any advice on the kingdom you're about to enter.>Apologize for implying her skull tattoo looks like bats. That was incredibly strange to say. >[Write-In.]
>>6337774>Ask her for any advice on the kingdom you're about to enter.
>>6334587when it is succ it up coming back you hack
>>6337774It totally looks like it. Just look at the top and see the wings and it becomes clear.
>>6337774>Ask her for any advice on the kingdom you're about to enter.>In exchange, give her a tip: she can go home now!If the Gun King gives her lip, she can tell him THE WASTELAND KING sent her, and if he doesn't want his dick re-crushed and/or twisted, he'll leave her alone.
>Ask her for any advice on the kingdom you're about to enter.>In exchange, give her a tip: she can go home now!You do your best to resist the urge to say that her skull tattoo really does look like bats (the duke always did say you were bad with social cues). "You're a traveling vendor, right? You must've been around the MUTANT KINGDOM before." You lean in. "You have any advice?"“Advice? Hm, well.. whatever problems you had with the GUN KINGDOM, expect them ten-fold in the MUTANT KINGDOM. The place is a shithole.” The gun runner rests her chin in her hand. “This kingdom’s at least got rules.. businesses, towns, whatever. The MUTANT KINGDOM’s all anarchy, just bandits and killers and really bad takeout. The land has just one law: ONLY MUTANTS ALLOWED.”“You’re no mutant. Unless you’ve got some tentacle or eyeball hidden somewhere I can’t see.” You eye her up. Maybe hidden on her back, or under the bandana..“Well.. it’s a law on paper. It’s mostly mutant pieces of shit, but there’s plenty of human pieces of shit, too. The only place that rule is really put to practice is the capitol, KINTSUGI, where the MUTANT KING lives. You should be fine until you reach it.” She shrugs. “If you want to get in, you had better have a good disguise. Or a bucket of radioactive waste to spare. Either one.”“Hmph. Well.. useful enough advice.” You may be able to skin the fat one and wear him, perhaps. “In return, a word of advice: you can go home now. If the GUN KING gives you lip just tell him the WASTELAND KING sent you. If he doesn't want his dick re-crushed, re-twisted, or otherwise ripped off, he'll leave you alone.”“What? The WASTELAND KING? What do you mean..?” The gun runner begins, but the mutant foreman cuts her off.“The gorilla thinks she’s the WASTELAND KING.” He leans in, not at all whispering and allowing you to clearly hear him. “I think she’s got one of those.. brain things, skitzofroidia or whatever.”“Oh. Right. Well.. I appreciate the sentiment, but I think the GUN KING hates me enough to risk getting his dick re-crushed, re-twisted, or otherwise ripped off. And I hear he’s got spares.” You still don’t know what that means. “I’ll keep traveling and keep selling. I haul in decent enough money.”“Hmph. Well.. I don’t have skitzofroidia, but you’re free to do as you wish.” You stand, brushing yourself off and making a mental note to punish the fat lub for that. “You have a name? I’m GIRL the BIG. Or, just BIG.”“It’s TIGER GRAAD.” Tiger brushes herself off. “Be seeing you around.”>Bid her adieu. Head eastward.>Add in anything else? [Write-In.]>[Write-In.]
>>6338227>Add in anything else?"your last name is just like the gun king's. are you 2 related ?">Bid her adieu. Head eastward.
>>6338332Oh shit, she's his ex-wife. No wonder they don't want to see each other.>>6338227>Bid her adieu. Head eastward.
>>6338227>Bid her adieu. Head eastward.
>"your last name is just like the gun king's. are you 2 related ?">Bid her adieu. Head eastward."GRAAD? ..You have ties to the GUN KING, then?" You cross your arms. You would've liked to have known that before you handed her your GG.."Yeah. Right. He's my brother. Should've told you." TIGER sighs. "..I'm sorry if he fucked with you somehow. If it makes you feel better, he's suplexed me into one of those SF2 cabinets at least four different times.""Hmph. Yeah. It does." You suppose you can deal with her when your paths cross again. Maybe not everyone outside of your kingdom is entirely annoying.[...]You wrecking ball bears eastward, the 29 hour sun (you might be on hour 20 by now, maybe) beating down on you. You keep your head out the window in a futile attempt to catch what little breeze this slow hunk of junk construction vehicle can manage."Ah! Figure we're just about crossing the border now. Take a look, gorilla lady." The foreman waves back at you from the driver's seat, a small lump on the back of his head from where you hit him for calling you skitzofroidic. "Take a look. We're in the MUTANT KINGDOM now."You look ahead. The sand seems to shift in tinge--from the deep golden hues of the brass-encased GUN KINGDOM, the MUTANT KINGDOM'S sand grows sickly, diseased, a pallid green. The texture itself looks different as well: where once the sand was coarse and rough, now it shifts soft beneath your treads like water."Doesn't seem that bad right now.." You murmur, eyes trained on the horizon. You would've expected to see crazy bandit warlords riding on the hoods of cars with flaming guitars by now."Well, we're just at the border right now, lady. Gotta make it in a little deeper before we see the sightseeing spots!" Lub laughs. "Speaking of.. where to? The best way through the MUTANT KINGDOM is never a straight line--else we'll run into unpassable chasms, big steppes, sinkholes.. we gotta take some turns here and there.">Continue bearing straightward.>Angle your penetration slightly northward.>[Write-In.]
>>6338712>Angle your penetration slightly northward.
>>6338712>Angle your penetration slightly northward.Who doesn't like some angled penetration now and again?
>>6338712>Continue bearing straightward.We will not be diverted
>Angle your penetration slightly northward.You decide to alter your angle of penetration northward, the wrecking ball’s treads squeaking and pealing as you do. You are seldom one to approach in a manner anywhere other than full frontal, but you like to mix things up on occasion.[...]Your drive soon finds your vehicle at the foot of a domed structure, half sunk into the sand and pillared aloft by great columns. The facade is weathered and craggy, and a handful of figures mill about the front.“Oh, man. Not one of these. We should keep driving, gorilla..” Lub mutters.“I’m not doing what you tell me. Pull over.” You loathe other telling what to do, unless it’s the duke gently reminding you that you need to take a bath every now and then to not smell like shit.
“What is this place?” You approach with the foreman in tow–the building, temple-like, hums as desert wind dances around the pillars.“It’s a MUTATION CHURCH. They like to spread the good word of radiation and mutate regular humans. Like you, I guess. Wait, you’re not mutated, right?” He looks you up and down. “Uh.. I can’t tell. Well, they’re real annoying nonetheless. Their missionaries are always knocking on your door when you’re sitting down for dinner, asking if you’ve heard the good word and spilling their big sloppy buckets of radioactive waste everywhere..”“Greetings, children.” A very tall mutant cactus-like figure stands at the front of the temple. “I am CHOLLA ANATOLIA, a RAD PRIEST of the MUTATION CHURCH. What brings you to our hallowed steps?”>What do they even do here?>Ask for a bucket of radioactive waste. For the road.>Do a 360 and walk away. You do not want to risk getting mutated.>[Write-In.]
>>6339544>Why would you want to be a lumpy cactus person, instead of GIRL the BIG? This seems more like a curse than blessing.
>>6339544>Ask for a bucket of radioactive waste. For the road.We're clearly already mutated but we have a friend who's not.
>>6339544>What do they even do here?
>>6339864>>6339873>>6339936>Why would you want to be a lumpy cactus person, instead of GIRL the BIG? This seems more like a curse than blessing.>What do they even do here?"Why, exactly, would I want to be a lumpy cactus person instead of GIRL the BIG?" You flex, as if in demonstration that you are not a lumpy cactus person and are instead yourself. "Seems a bit of a waste.""The MUTATION CHURCH does not ask of you to change WHO you are--rather, we ask to change WHAT you are." The cactus twists, a strange, undulating kind of dance, kicking up clods of dust in the ground as he does. "You might become a great, hulking green beast, or a lump of glittering purple rock, or an amalgam of darting blue eyes. We believe radioactivity begets your TRUE self, the self that lies beneath that thin layer of flesh you call a body.""Right." You're pretty sure your layer of flesh isn't all that thin, but whatever. "What exactly is it you do here besides preaching to people?" "We spread the good word of the MUTATION CHURCH. We deploy missionaries all across the KINGDOMS. We baptize neophytes in glorious radioactive waste." He shudders. "Just as yourself. You must be here for a dip, no? You look a little mutated already, perhaps but a bit more would really bring you out of your shell! You seem to value strength. Just imagine the kind of strength you could have if you pushed yourself beyond the limits of humanity?">You're good. And you're not a mutant.>Yeah, you're already mutated already, so you really don't need this.>How about a bucket of radioactive waste for the road? A baptism-to-go.>Hmm.. maybe a dip wouldn't hurt.>[Write-In.]
>>6340111>Yeah, you're already mutated already, so you really don't need this.>”I’ve eaten nothing but canned burgers laced with steroids for my entire life before this trip, so yeah, I think I’m good on mutations.”>”Also, have you seen a purple dude who looks kinda like an eggplant recently? Possibly being taken against his will to be forcibly mutated?”
>>6340169+1, though I will say I think Duke Nasu is already an obvious mutant, being an eggplant man.
>>6340111>How about a bucket of radioactive waste for the road? A baptism-to-go.
>Yeah, you're already mutated already, so you really don't need this.>”I’ve eaten nothing but canned burgers laced with steroids for my entire life before this trip, so yeah, I think I’m good on mutations.”>”Also, have you seen a purple dude who looks kinda like an eggplant recently? Possibly being taken against his will to be forcibly mutated?”"Yeah, I don't really need this. I've eaten nothing but canned burgers for my entire life, and I'm pretty sure they have like, the same vitamins and stuff you get out of radiation." You've been doing little else but eating can burgers, lifting weights, and watching movies for the last few years. You're pretty sure you're in peak physical condition already. And you don't think they have steroids in them.. maybe. Probably. "You seen a purple dude who looks kinda like an eggplant recently? Carried around by a weird guy and a tentacle? Ripped from my hands to be forcibly mutated?”“You eat can burgers? You had better be careful with those. I hear those are pretty bad for your health.." The horrible mutant cactus man who bathes in radiation warns you. “And a purple dude who looks like an eggplant.. You'll have to be more specific.""He has a little jester hat on. I made it for him.” You proffer.“Oh, that. Yes, I’ve seen him in passing–..sweeping by in the tendrils of the MUTANT KING.” He shudders. “Now, make no mistake, passersby–we are no theocracy, not like the vainglorious CAR KING and his CARGO CULT. The MUTANT CHURCH and the MUTANT KING’S goals are not in alignment. We worship radiation, and the wonderful forms of mutants! The MUTANT KING.. it worships cuteness, and sweet food, and weird anime rhythm games, and whatever else happens to strike its fancy. It’s not likely to try to mutate your friend any further. No, it’s known to spirit mutants away in the night to eat them in its shrine, SHIBUYA 109. You had better hurry if you hope to try to take your friend back.. though I doubt you’ll get much farther than the MUTANT KING’S teeth.”“Right. I got it.” It seems your worst fears were true. “See ya.”“WAIT.” Cholla suddenly warns you, its voice deeper. “You said you only ate canburgers, correct? That is no substitution for mutation, friend. You really must come in, take a pamphlet, and enjoy a nice bath in our ooze. I insist.”>Run away.>Engage in hand-to-cactus combat.>Insist you are mutated. Somehow. [Write-In.]>[Write-In.]
>>6340612>”If it’s as you say, my friend is going to be eaten, and I don’t have time to waste to prevent it from happening. Thank you for your help.”>take pamphlets regardless, and rate 5 out of 5 on Yell (literally us yelling five times in the vicinity of the church)
>>6340620+1, kek>>6340612
>>6340620>+1
>”If it’s as you say, my friend is going to be eaten, and I don’t have time to waste to prevent it from happening. Thank you for your help.”>take pamphlets regardless, and rate 5 out of 5 on Yell (literally us yelling five times in the vicinity of the church)"Well.. like you said. My friend is about to get eaten, and I don't really have any time to waste." You take a few steps back. "Thanks for the advice, I guess. I'll take a pamphlet."Oh, but what for better than to REPLACE your friend by becoming an eggplant mutant yourself?" The priest leans in very close, a few of his spines just inches from your eye. "You really ought to take a bath. I can show you in.">Roll a 1d20, Bo3 to use your awesome oratory skill to convince him otherwise.
Rolled 9 (1d20)>>6341054Our awesome oratory skill of fist?
Rolled 8 (1d20)>>6341054If I roll low, it's because GIRL is too busy yelling out her review.
Rolled 1 (1d20)>>6341054
>>6341157>>6341141>>6341068Pictured: our oratory.
>Rolled 1 (1d20)You decide to try reasoning with the very insistent priest, doing your best to smile warmly and explain yourself. You'll just have to be gentle."Fuck you. Wait, no, sorry. I didn't mean that." Fuck, you fucked it up. You keep doing that."I see." The radiation priest suddenly stands up very straight. "In that case--looks like it'll be a baptism by fire."The priest begins dancing rapidly, chanting and screeching as he does, earning the glances of a few mutants around you."Uh, gorilla? We should really go." Lub pulls on your cape. "He's calling in the rest of them..!"Sure enough, a few oblong lumps of flesh, spikes, and tendrils in rags begin to emerge from the church ahead of you.>Flee. Punching cacti is your one weakness.>Attempt to engage in combat.>Quickly. Use Lub to distract them, THEN flee.>[Write-In.]
>>6341239>Attempt to engage in combat.A king should at least TRY to stand and fight! Maybe by putting on a gun-show (ie flexing and posing) we can intimidate them into blacking off, or at least accepting that we are the superest a mutant can be.
>>6341239>Distract the priest and signal lum to drop the wrecking ball on him
>>6341332>+1
>>6341332+2
"Woah. Woah. Wait. Wait. Wait." You raise your hands up, taking a few steps back from the approaching cactus as the foreman goes waddling back out to the wrecking ball. "Would you be interested to know that I can recite the entire script of Superbad (2007) with Jonah Hill and Michael Cera by memory?"Well.. that is pretty interesting." The radpriest admits. "I don't know if it's interesting enough to avoid me dunking you in radioactive goo, though.""Well, just so you know I can.. it begins with Seth, played by Jonah Hill, calling his friend, Evan, played by Michael Cera. Seth says 'Yo.' Then, Evan says 'What's up?'. Then Seth says, 'I was doing research last night, for nextyear, and I think I’m gonna go with Bang Bus.'"You make a few weird hand signals behind your back, trying to motion for the foreman to drop the ball on the cactus man. You could probably punch him out, but it would definitely hurt bad. You used to try to train on cacti and you'd spend all night with Duke Nasu pulling thorns with tweezers.>Roll a 1d20, Bo3.
Rolled 19 (1d20)>>6342766
Rolled 4 (1d20)>>6342766We need some brass knuckles
Rolled 20 (1d20)>>6342766
>>6342775>>6342801we're so back
>Rolled 20 (1d20)“And then, Seth says, ‘Sometimes I get boners so big I can’t hide them. And then I get nervous and my heart starts pounding, and it all just, like, feeds my boner. It just becomes this...thing...that’s attached to me. And it won’t go away.” You continue, performing some extensive hand signs and getting kind of into the reminiscing. “Bah! Too juvenile. That’s how it is with all SETH ROGEN COMEDIES.” The rad priest scoffs, making your brow twinge in anger. Funny People and Knocked Up, maybe, but SUPERBAD is a classic. “Enough with her blabbering. Take her, and turn her into some kind of vegetable person, or a crystal person, or something.”You point your hand behind your back down, and your stand-in duke catches the hint. You hear the catch of metal against metal as the cord of the machine gives way and the immense golden ball comes hurtling down from the arm. You don’t even get the chance to blink. The cactus priest is there one moment, and then an oozing green stain on the ball the next.“Come on! We gotta go!” The foreman waves you in, and while you’re not eager to abide by his orders, you hop into the chassis anyway. The heavy machinery is far from the fastest thing in the wasteland, but the mutant zealots seem too preoccupied with the remains of the splattered priest to come after you.[...]“Phew. That was close! I mean, I like a good RADBATH every now and then, but you overdo it and it gives you crazy kinds of cancer. Kinds of cancer you didn’t even think existed. Like nose cancer. And elbow cancer.” The radish whistles, the church disappearing beneath a dune in your rearview mirror now. “Not too many people are built for radiation like that, ‘cept for the MUTANT KING. You good? They didn’t splash you any? Messed with your DNA a little?”“I’m fine. Thanks. For killing that guy.” You suppose you can entreat him to a single thanks for being competent enough to do his job. “Let’s keep going East. How about..”>Follow a path lined with bones.>Follow a path where the scent of NOODLES wafts by.>[Write-In.]
>>6342934>Follow a path where the scent of NOODLES wafts by.
>>6342934>NOODLES
>>6342934>Follow a path where the scent of NOODLES wafts by.The king's tummy is rumbly!
You decide to follow the path of noodles, bearing a bit back south as you order your temporary duke to follow your nose. The scent grows more and more strong as your ball treks downward, intermingling with the latent scent of radioactive waste and blood that hangs in the air.You come upon it soon enough–a small two-story building stuck from the sand, adorned with colorful signage and posters. You catch sight of a billboard on the roof that reads 放射性ヌードル. You have a very latent grasp on written language, so you guess these are some letters in the alphabet you haven’t gotten to yet.“Oh, nice. HONKER NOODLES. Hey, we should pull up here gorilla. Grab a tight bite before we arrive at KINTSUGI?” Lub points at it. “If we do eat, you’re covering. I don’t have any GG.” You take another peek into your PERSONAL SPACE.. nope. No money has magically appeared since you last checked.“Uh, well.. I don’t exactly have any GG, either. Left my wallet at the office. Well, we’ll figure something out.” Lub shrugs as he pulls in to the front. "Maybe you could scare them into giving you something?"
You stand with your hands on your hips, the radish behind you. A short, mildly out-of-shape clown girl stands before the two of you at the front of the building, eye bags heavy and voice low.“Hello and welcome to HONKER NOODLES, the #1 spot for adult clown-themed entertainment and noodle-based foodstuffs in the MUTANT KINGDOM.” The clown girl rattles off the spiel with workman-like efficiency. “My name is JELLYBELLY. How can I make your day sunny today, miss or missus?”>You’re not really seeing the operative connection between clowns and noodles.>She doesn’t seem to happy to serve you.>Ask what you can get with 0 GG.>[Write-In.]
>>6343458>You’re not really seeing the operative connection between clowns and noodles.
>>6343458>You’re not really seeing the operative connection between clowns and noodles.>Ask what you can get with 0 GG.
>>6343458>She doesn’t seem to happy to serve you.How can our day be sunny when hers is not?
>You’re not really seeing the operative connection between clowns and noodles.>Ask what you can get with 0 GG."I don't really see the connection between clowns and noodles." You point out the tenuous foundation for this business. "I don't think noodles are very funny. Or wacky.""Well, you know.. noodles can be kind of funny. They're kind of like.. balloon animals, or elephants, I guess.." JELLYBELLY's shoulders sink. "Look, don't put too much thought into it. We used to be just a clown-themed adult entertainment venue until we got bought out by a noodle business. I don't know why a noodle business bought a clown-themed adult entertainment venue. Now we have to serve customers nuked ramen between honk-honk sessions.""Anything I can get with 0 GG?" You look the building over. It's.. shoddy, to say the least, and a breakcore circus theme remix echoes from inside."Sorry, lady. There's an admission fee of 5 GG, and everything on the menu costs at least 7-10 GG." She sighs, and then lowers her voice to just barely a whisper. "Uh.. listen, if you have even just a couple GG, or anything to barter with, I'll give a honk-honk session out back. At least five minutes. No squirting flowers, though. Or creampies. Just honk-honk, maybe a circus peanut if what you've got on you is decent."You don't really know what any of that stuff means, but it doesn't sound like something that will help you kill the MUTANT KING.>She doesn’t seem too happy to do anything at all, really. It's kind of pathetic.>Ask if there's any alternate ways inside.>Ask about the MUTANT KING.>Barter for honk-honk(???).>[Write-In.]
>>6344326>She doesn’t seem too happy to do anything at all, really. It's kind of pathetic.>Bring me a bowl of noodles, and you can get in on the ground floor with a conquering king. Ditch this place, join my party!
>>6344326>Ask if there's any alternate ways inside.Sexy Girl the Big Clown dress up stealth infiltration time? Yes please!
>>6344326>Ask about the MUTANT KING.
>>6344326>WTF is a honk honk session
>Ask if there's any alternate ways inside.>She doesn’t seem too happy to do anything at all, really. It's kind of pathetic."Uh.. no. I don't think I need a honk-honk session." You politely decline. You're not often one to politely decline, but this one seems especially pathetic. "There any other ways inside? I wouldn't mind some food. I only brought one CANBURGER for the road.""Well.. you could work a shift, I guess. You could make some GG and get a bowl on top of that. We're light on hands after a few clown girls got eaten.." She murmurs. "If I were you, though, I wouldn't waste my time. The food's so bad that not even the MUTANT KING comes by.""..Right." You're not sure about dressing yourself up as a clown for subpar noodles, but making some GG might not be the worst idea. "There a reason you're working here and soliciting people for honk-honks outside of your job?""I'm paying off a loan and they're the only place that would hire me." JELLYBELLY's voice cracks. "I got turned down by every other place because they were too freaked out by my mutations. There's no chance I'd be working here and doing honk-honks otherwise. I'd be animating kid's cartoons with deep lore and worldbuilding.""Your mutations?" You look her up and down. "You look pretty normal to me.""Just look at me." She looks like she's break into tears. "The hair and skin and nose. And random parts of me honk when you squeeze them. The RADIOACTIVE WASTE turned me into a clown. Every other girl in this shithole gets to take off the wig and go home when their shift ends.">Ask about the MUTANT KING.>Barter for honk-honk(???).>This is getting too sad. You gotta get out of here.>[Write-In.]
>>6344705>"And just what the fuck is honk-honk?">"... You know what? Fuck this place and the lot life gave you, we're kidnapping you to take you on a journey of self discovery and improvement for your self esteem."
>>6344705>"... You know what? Fuck this place and the lot life gave you, we're kidnapping you to take you on a journey of self discovery and improvement for your self esteem."
>>6344705>Ask about the MUTANT KING.
>>6344705A few clown girls got eaten? You wanna elaborate on that?
>"And just what the fuck is honk-honk?">"... You know what? Fuck this place and the lot life gave you, we're kidnapping you to take you on a journey of self discovery and improvement for your self esteem.">A few clown girls got eaten? You wanna elaborate on that?"..What IS a honk-honk?" Your brow furrows."You really want to see? I'll demonstrate for some GG, or whatever else you got on you." Jellybelly offers again, a bit more insistence in her tone. "It'll make you feel great.""It's nothing special, gorilla. I got a rash last time." Lub whispers very quietly behind you. "Yeah. This is really depressing." You sigh, folding your arms. You don't really like hanging with people beside the DUKE as a rule, but.. "You want to come with us? I'm killing the MUTANT KING at KINTSUGI. I think getting rid of a monarch erases debt, or something like that.""Oh, no. The MUTANT KING..?" Jellybelly's face pales (well, not really, but you imagine it would if she wasn't already pale). "I-I mean, I'd leave, but if you're getting closer to the MUTANT KING.. I mean, I saw it straight up eat three girls here. Like, shove them in its maw with its tentacles. I don't really want to die..">Fine. See you around.>Is this really all she wants out of life? Soliciting honk-honks?>Say that you'll protect her, which is really cheesy and embarrassing and something you do not want to say.>[Write-In.]
>>6345179>Is this really all she wants out of life? Soliciting honk-honks?>NO! It is to crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentation of their women.>You have lamented too long, Jellybelly. Come with me. I will teach you the art of muscle, and when we defeat the Mutant King, we shall tear down this noodle house with our bare hands!
>>6345179>Is this really all she wants out of life? Soliciting honk-honks?>I beat the Gun King and Ill beat the Mutant King. It's no big deal. or well it is a Big deal, because I'm Big. Big the Girl. THE WASTELAND KING. And It's my deal.But if she really doesn't want to come, then we can leave.
>>6345179>Is this really all she wants out of life? Soliciting honk-honks?
>>6345179>The mutant king won’t have time to eat you when I’m punching it in a face.
>Is this really all she wants out of life? Soliciting honk-honks?You fold your incredibly, impressively muscular arms. "Is this really all you want out of your life? Sweating your ass off in the middle of the desert? Soliciting honk-honks from random strangers?" You scoff. "Come on. Get out of here. You can at least tag along to the capitol, see me break the MUTANT KING yourself. I already DICK-CRUSHED the GUN KING and took his crown."You reveal the wreath of brass casings from your PERSONAL SPACE to demonstrate, the metal catching the glint of sunlight as you do. JELLYBELLY's eyes widen. "You--.. woah. Wow. That really is his crown.." She whispers in awe, gingerly reaching a hand out. "You really beat him? I-I used to live in the GUN KINGDOM, at least before I got.. turned into this and everyone chased me out.""It wasn't because she was a mutant." Lub nudges you. "Plenty of mutants live there. Clowns are just creepy. Eugh.""Yeah. He was a push-over." You shrug, turning around. "I'm out of here, to beat the MUTANT KING'S ass. You can tag along if you want. Or you can waste your time scrabbling for GG and honk-honks. Your choice.""I'll.. I'll come with you. Just to KINTSUGI. I live there, after all. If you beat the MUTANT KING, well.." JELLYBELLY's voice lowers. "Well, I'll see. If you get eaten, I'll just come back and work overtime to make up for the missed hours on my shift."[...]The three of you pile into the wrecking ball, and.. it's somewhat of a tight fit, you and JELLYBELLY in the back and LUB in front. JELLYBELLY squeezes in and honks as she piles in after you. "I thought clowns were meant to fit into tiny vehicles easily." You mutter, pressing your face against the glass."Sorry.." She murmurs, her face flushing just a little more pink. "I"Look, I appreciate you showing up for weird scary clown girls, gorilla, but there's definitely an issue here. Having TWO pale, chubby sidekicks really throws off the balance. You gotta do something about this." Lub sighs as he begins to drive the machine off from HONKER NOODLES."I'll train her. Whatever." He's got a point. A bit of chub is okay on a radish guy, since it's charming. But chub on a human? You gotta give her some workout tips.>Follow the trail lined with rock formations>Follow the trail marked with holes.>[Write-In.]
>>6345742>Follow the trail marked with holes.>Train a bit by jogging alongside the crane.Need to work on our stamina so we can punch the Mutant King for hours if need be.Also, if Lub keeps being annoying, he'll get pulled into training with us. See how he likes being a radish guy with abs.
>>6345742>Follow the trail lined with rock formations
>>6345742>Follow the trail lined with rock formations>>6345758If he jogs who will drive?
>>6345742>Follow the trail lined with rock formations>Train a bit by jogging alongside the crane.
>Follow the trail lined with rock formations>Train a bit by jogging alongside the crane.You're not one much for tight spaces like this, much less for the fact that things randomly honk every time you readjust your position or hit a bump on the desert. "I'm going for a jog outside. Keep the ball going. Step up the speed if you can." You announce, kicking open the door and stepping out onto the hot sand.You were never one much for cardio, but it's a necessity for upkeep of your IMPRESSIVE physique. Your exercise out here is at least a little less monotonous than the cardio at home, which usually entails laps around the convenience store for a few hours while the duke counts out each circle you make around it.You direct the vehicle out along the great steppes and crags of stone that pierce from the desert sand, not at all eager to tempt the path of holes and chasms in a vehicle that maxes out at a couple miles per hour. The rocks slowly begin to form overhangs overhead, tall spires of stone marked with lights and flags."Hey, gorilla." Lub leans out from the window as you jog along right next to him. "We're coming up on ROCK BOTTOM. This is a bandit camp--well, bandit amusement park. We're not too far from KINTSUGI now, but you wanna stop here? There's some decent rides, a few carnival games to make GG at.. well, as long as you're a bandit, otherwise they'll scoop your skull out of your head and suck our eyeballs out of it. You look kind of bandit-like, sort of, I guess.""What? No. Nooo way." Jellybelly suddenly presses her face against the window. "Do NOT stop here. They'll eat me.">Bring fat radish driver with you.>Bring random clown girl NPC you decided to bring along with you.>[Write-In.]
>>6346412>Bring fat radish driver with you.Lock the ball up so clown girl is safe.
>>6346412>Bring fat radish driver with you
>>6346412>Bring fat radish driver with you.Just in case OP wants more votes before committing to a post.
>>6346412>Bring fat radish driver with you.He obviously knows the place.
