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I really should have listened to my gut when Mina's dad brought up adding daddy to the new campaign we're planning for once things calm down on set. He used to always be a part of our D&D campaigns but when his company took off he had to miss a few.

And now I remember why the loss wasn't all that bad - he decided today that part of his characters backstory involves curing cows of addiction to the game world equivalent of meth.

What the fucking hell?

I apologize if I insulted the dream gods or whatever this is.

So, the apocalypse begins and this plane of survivors is above the nuclear blast. They end up at this fallout shelter called Outpost 3. They get these little fucking cubes to eat and it basically sucks and they play the same song on repeat over and over. You can't go outside or do shit, and suddenly who comes in on a carriage like a year and a half into this - ME! I've been watching, and I'm some sort of leader. Someone shoots my horses at my command. Dudes, this is creepy as fuck.

Now, I'm in trying to interrogate those to take to my 'cooperative' to determine who gets to live and who gets to stay and starve. Some rubberman comes in and is hovering around, bangs my first subject (and I think it's me or some sort of thing I create - which makes no sense) but then I tell him that I wouldn't touch such a pathetic guy. This is so TMI, but this is so fucked up. So then the guy in the rubber suit goes back and they're going at it and he stabs the guy thinking it's me and it's his grandma who ratted on him as disgusting and immoral and needs to die. I get some perverse pleasure seeing these people do their worst. I mean, I stripped a lady to look at her spine, humiliated her and told her she didn't pass my test.

But seriously, I got an apocalypse, an android, survivors, some sort of leadership that I'd like to cancel. I'd like spaceships, or maybe fluffy bunnies in a field. I'm some demon. I know it.

So, I know that I talked about that 130 year old escape pod, but WHAT THE HELL?!? That's just not... Why?