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Enchanted Trinkets Complete--a hardcover book containing over 500 magic items for your D&D games!

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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Zen_Pollo" data-source="post: 4751389" data-attributes="member: 11404">Showdown at the Stuffer Shack Stuffer Shack.  The Den of Dehydrated Delicacies; the Vault of Varicose Victuals.  Great tracts of neon and fluorescent lights that leech away color to make everything a uniform, dull gray indicate that you have arrived at the home of synth-alcohol, soykaf, porno-simchips, Holohayo 3D greeting cards, pneumatic fluid for your bike, cheap fetish trinkets for the magical wannabes, soygrits, and a full line of stuffers with no redeeming nutritional or social value. Yep, the good ol’ Stuffer Shack, home to a smell you can’t recognize (and probably don’t want to) and thousands of nuyen worth of stomach-rotting chow. As an added benefit, it’s open 24-7-365. --Catalyst Game Labs, Food Fight 4.0 Terrance burst through the Stuffer Snack doors at 5 am.  The elf had had a long night and he needed some munchies – right now – “Want them stuffers, Dammit!”  The street samurai barely registered a couple of wannabe rockers pretending to make-out while they shoplifted pet food from Aisle 7.  The elf immediately went to Aisle 15 towards the back where the packaged snacks were located and Got Stuffed!  The ravenous elf needed to feed his suprathyroid gland or he would pass out from exhaustion.  As he stood in the Aisle ripping open bags of soysnaxs and devouring kelpicrunch nuggets, advertising AROs popped up around his perceptual range spamming him with merchandising ploys.  Alexander moved more sedately toward the back left corner to the soykaf dispenser bar.  The elf waved at the acne-faced human standing behind the register and the young man’s dwarven girlfriend sitting next to him on the counter.  The health-conscious elf was conflicted; on one hand, Alexander despised eating junk food, yet he also had to admit a certain nostalgia from his youth about Gettin’ Stuffed! at his local Stuffer Shack.  So the elf compromised and ordered up a soy schmoothie with an extra shot of gluten from the self-service ARO.Carlito moved to the right side freezer looking for semi-prepared food that he could nuke in the store’s StufferWave!  The scientist noticed a man in a trench coat removing half-gallons of ice cream from the freezer, opening them surreptiously and taking big licks from the top.  The germ-a-phobic human made sure to avoid that section of the Shack.From the front of the store, Slone called out to the shaman, “Hey, get me a Super Sloppy SoyStuffer with Triple BurgerNeatMeat!”  The troll stood next to the entrance and pretended to be playing some of the simsense arcade games, such as “Little Mutant Vik Ninja Cyberboy! 3”, “Orbital Ninja Death Commando 5”, “The All-New Ultimate Bike Race Ninja Street Duel”, and his personal favorite, “Street Fighting Magical Ninja 8.”  Of course, Slone had always had bad luck with video games – in fact more often than naught, the games ate his cred and simply crashed – and this time was no different.  “Who built this frakin’ box?” the troll thundered at the attendant nearby at the front register.The troll was so busy rocking the arcade machine over the admonishments of the clerk, that Slone almost missed the two black SUVs pulling up to the front of the store.  Svetlana Simoneov and her crew of six toughs stepped into the store and surveyed the situation.  Ms. Brickhouse smiled at the troll at the arcade center to the left of the entrance and decided she wanted a large soydog on a bun – with a pumpshot of glooey cheesimelt.  So the Russian moved towards the self-service kitchen in the rear of the store.  On the way over, Ms. Brickhouse barely acknowledged both of the elves whom had moved to the register to pay for their Stuffers.  A subcompact car parked next to the SUVs and an attractive mother dragged her young brat of a son screaming into the store.“I’ve had it with this game!” roared the troll as he reared back his fist to punish the display.  Just as the Slone’s fist was about to impact the holovid, the subcompact car exploded in the lot.  The blast launched the troll through the arcade section and over the counter near the register; Slone sacked the dwarven girlfriend like a 25kg bag of soy-suet. The rest of the Stuffer Shack erupted in pandemonium as consumer packaged goods flew everywhere – the motions of the articles kicked off annoying AROs in the customer’s smart vision.  The first few aisles of goods completely collapsed spraying viscous multicolor sudsy goop all over the store.  The MILF and her brat-kid were buried under the rubble.Four thugs jumped through the storefront wreckage and started laying down suppressive fire over the occupants of the shack.  Two other goons stayed back and kept a lookout outside the store.Seeing his beloved Stuffers laid to waste, something snapped inside Terrance.  Dodging the spray of lead from the storefront, the street samurai yelled inchoate curses at the assailants and blasted two of them straight to hell.  Once the elf’s cyber-reflexes kicked in, the samurai began to snatch random flying foodstuffers from mid-air and crammed them into his gaping pie-hole.But the Russians were not amused.  Those bastards sold me out to the Finnegans, reasoned Svetlana; so she ordered her Vory Shestiorkas to shoot the elves in the back.Alexander never saw it coming.  The elf was slowly turning to face the Irish mobsters at the front of the store.  When the first shotgun blast hit the shaman in the back, it felt like his heart had stopped.  Alexander crumpled to the floor in a pool of his own blood.  To add insult to injury, white sudsy liquid detergent splashed all over the elf’s gaping back wound, causing the lawyer to scream and pass out momentarily from the pain.Terrance didn’t fair much better from his shot to the back.  At least the street samurai fell unconscious before Alexander’s green lumpy soy smoothie splashed all over his face.The Russians even foolishly attempted to blow Slone away, but the juggernaut troll soldiered through the hail of buckshot and leveled his trusty Ares Alpha towards the Shestiorkas at the back of the store.  Firing from his underbarrel-mounted grenade launcher, Slone yelled at Svetlana, “Stuff your fat face, and show yourself out the door!”The blast decimated the Russian mob – and the Stuffer Shack’s Dispenser Bar.  Four of the Shestiorkas died instantly, Svetlana was almost killed and fell screaming; only one Russian soldier remained and he laid on the floor crying out in Russian for his babushka.Even Slone had to pause a moment to witness the glorious destruction he had meted out on his former lover.  The Dispenser Bar was totaled – carbonated water sprayed every square inch of the Shack, syrupy fizzyglug concentrate dissolved the particleboard ceiling tiles near the back, pressurized jets launched soydogs like missiles across the store, even Carlito’s StufferWave! flew across the aisles to crater a hole in the freezer section glass.But Carlito had another mission – to revive his fallen comrades.  The scientist crawled amongst the aisles dodging fire from both sides as he made his way to the area near the front register where Alexander and Terrance had fallen.  The human pulled out his nano-syringe and injected his gut-juice into the shaman first and then the street samurai.The street samurai found himself on his back in the pet food aisle.  Grabbing a busted sack of dog biscuits, the elf ran back to the store alternating between stuffing fist-fulls of treats into his mouth and ducking for cover.  When the disgruntled elf reached the rear aisle near the last Russian Shestiorka, Terrance executed him gangster-style muttering, “Nobody stuffs my own stuffer!”When Alexander woke up and recovered himself, self-interest once more took over; “Frag this, I'm out!” exclaimed the shaman as he turned himself Invisible.  The ensorcelled shaman ran back out the decimated store front and attempted to flee the scene.  Yet, one of the Irish mafia whom had been waiting outside was a mage that was standing overwatch in astral space.  The shaman stood out, clear as day, to the waiting mage.  For the second time this morning Alexander was shot in the back – this time by a Manabolt. Slone turned his attention to the two gangsters outside the store.  Two bursts from the troll’s Alpha later, and both the mage and the hacker were struck down -- the last of them covered in blue sticky goop from a ruptured can of paint.Terrance killed the one of the mobsters from the front with his own Ares Alpha and proceeded to grab some more dog food, “These doggy stuffers are not that bad!”  Good thing I practice competitive eating in my spare time, thought Terrance as he wandered the aisles grabbing assorted foodsnaxs.Slone accosted the last Irishman whom was attempting to run out the front of the store.  One troll-sized fist to the face later and the gangster went down like a chump.  The troll grabbed the front of the gangster’s shirt and yanked him back to consciousness, “What is the meaning of this!?!!?”Meanwhile, Carlito ran back outside to tend to the shaman.  As the elf sat up, he muttered, “I'm going to Olga’s.   I’ve had enough of that Russian slitch – at least I won’t get shot at the brothel!”Although Terrance’s wired reflexes prompted him to dial-back his speed once the fight was over, the street samurai had other ideas.  The elf kept his reflexes engaged and began to eat at cybernetic speeds – a veritable torrent of krill and soy made its way down his poop-shoot.The troll continued to interrogate the last gangster, “It this all of them?”  Slone threw down the gangster in disgust and the poor sob cracked his skull on the pavement.Yet more of the Irish Mob kicked open the door near the register leading to the back storeroom.  The mobsters yelled at everyone to stay down, so Terrance dropped to the floor – but continued to snack on some raw baking flour.Seeing the commotion in the Shack, Slone decided to circle around the back of the store to flank the new group.  The troll’s long legs carried him down the alleyway next to the store.Terrance once again switched his Alpha to single shots and killed two more Irishmen.  Raw Purple Meat splattered when the gangsters fell into a puddle of goop created from the wreckage of the Dispenser Bar.  The elf thought to himself, Hmmm, so tasty.The enthralled street samurai got up and executed two more of the second group whom burst through the storeroom door.  The elf ran into the back room and was able to wound the final two mobsters – one of whom looked like a mage.The mage launched a wicked Manabolt at the street samurai, but somehow missed.  The mage’s companion also fired his UZI III at the retreating elf, but could not find his mark either.Finally, Slone rounded the corner and saw the ensuing gun battle from the rear door of the Shack.  Two bursts from the troll’s Alpha finished the job on the mage and the final gangster.Carlito heard sirens in the distance and warned the rest of the crew to hurry up and get out of the Stuffer Shack.  The scientist ran back into the store and grabbed the unconscious Svetlana – as well as her commlink.  Terrance nabbed a second commlink from one of the Russians and used it to start one of the SUVs.  Carlito followed suite with Svetlana’s commlink.  Slone and Alexander hopped back into the CityMaster with the badly concussed Irish mobster.Shortly, the team motored away from the wreckage of the Stuffer Shack in the three vehicles.  When the team had made it to relative safety, Carlito used his medkit to revive both the Irish Mobster and Svetlana Simoneov.Slone interrogated the Irish mobster and discovered the individual worked for a mid-level mob boss named Barry O’Leary.  Apparently, the boss had had a leak inside Svetlana’s organization and had found out about the drop.  The casino night was supposed to be a money laundering operation for the Irish Mafia but the team had made away with the dirty funds.  Looks like we just made a powerful enemy, Slone thought.Terrance sat down to sort through the cred-sticks from the casino, the vehicles, drones, weapons and miscellaneous loot from the heist.Meanwhile, Ms. Brickhouse and Alexander began to negotiate in earnest.The lawyer first threatened the Russian boss, “Why don’t we take all the money and we’ll let you live?” “My life isn’t worth that much money,” countered Svetlana, “If you take it all, you may as well shoot both of us in the head – neither of our lives is worth that kind of money to my superiors.”Terrance called out to the other elf, “Alexander…”“Not now, Viper, I’m busy…How about 50%,” offered the lawyer to Ms. Brickhouse.“I might part with 15%, but then you would have to launder the money so no one could trace it back to you,” replied Svetlana, “Instead, why don’t I provide you with 1.5% of the funds fully laundered from my personal accounts – that way no one has to know about this deal and we both get away clean?”The street samurai tugged on the lawyer’s sleeve, “Seriously, I need to talk with you…”Alexander shrugged off his companion and ran his hand through his hair which was still sticky with blood and stuffer-goop.  The shaman looked around at the vehicles, weapons, and other assorted loot, It’ll take us weeks to unload this mess. Besides, the elf was sleepy – “Fine, we’ll take the 1.5% and one of the SUVs.”Terrance groaned out loud and threw up his hands in exasperation.“I knew you were the smart one,” smiled Ms. Brickhouse.  The Russian recovered her commlink from the pile and climbed into one of her trucks.  Rolling down the window, Svetlana called out to Slone, “Leave the Irishman to me, lover.  Why don’t you throw him into the back?”  As the troll grudgingly complied, Svetlana eyed him like the crabmeat from the night before last.  In addition, the Russian issued a financial transaction from her commlink to Alexander’s.As the SUV pulled away, Alexander noticed the amount on his commlink, a cool 400,000 nuyen.“That’s what I was trying to tell you, Chiphead,” exclaimed Terrance, “There was 26 million in certified cred!”The ice age is coming, the sun's zooming inEngines stop running, the wheat is growing thinA nuclear era, but I have no fearCause London is drowning and I, I live by the riverThe Clash, London Calling</blockquote>

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