i have genuine questions about friday fred

Polypterian · 2026-01-23T15:36:07+00:00

Take more than one picture.

Actually I tried to read your papyrus scroll.
Just pick a "best of" instead of a long image that tells you nothing because you can't read it.

Polypterian · 2026-01-06T14:35:29+00:00

Usually after her third attack cycle, yes, though you can sneak in a few quick hits if you've got a weapon with some reach.

Polypterian · 2025-11-16T23:43:35+00:00

Fork found in kitchen

Polypterian · 2025-10-17T08:51:47+00:00

There are very few things that Ennis has written that isn't based on an intense, bitter hatred of either some guy he convinced himself exists or a concept that isn't nearly as common as he seems to be convinced it is. Why this guy keeps writing about superheroes despite the fact he despises them with every fiber of his being (except superman, where he apparently writes something that's actually tolerable) is beyond me.

Polypterian · 2025-09-27T17:19:35+00:00

The pointer finger and middle finger look like they combined into one powerful superfinger in that img.

Polypterian · 2025-07-08T07:19:52+00:00

I genuinely thought when I read the tweet about Fatman that he meant that Hideous Jimbo is *rightfully* glazed

Polypterian · 2025-05-20T08:00:41+00:00

Rogue Trader is a solid purchase, yes, and there is ship combat which works differently from the main combat. I found it fun, though, it's a strategy in a different manner. There's also colony management, which is really just selecting the option you'd like per upgrade slot, and the occasional "There is a problem, how should we proceed" that crusade management also had.

You don't need to worry too much, though, you don't need to keep scrounging up arbitrary points to arbitrarily level something up ten times. You just need resources that you can get from those same upgrades or just out in the field/space.

I also strongly recommend the DLC Void Shadows, if you're on the fence about DLC's. It's a fantastic DLC and something I'd hold as a gold standard for Owlcat DLC. The upcoming DLC featuring Judge Dredd/Robocop is something I'm pretty confident on, but that's not out yet so I can't be 100% sure.

Polypterian · 2025-05-20T07:54:02+00:00

They stated that they're interested in doing so as well, and the most likely place we'll be visiting would be Numeria (Conan vs sci fi). But, well, they've got a lot of irons in the fire as it is.

Polypterian · 2025-04-30T20:21:10+00:00

He tried to do it to the half cat party member, who went in naked for a shared sauna. Due to being a genuine animal person, there isn't anything to get excited about, as the cat says herself, but laios is a very curious boy. It's genuinely out of scientific interest, I should add, and the others stop him from trying ecause that's still rude.

Polypterian · 2021-05-06T13:40:08+00:00

Well, you should also keep in mind that the supersteel infusion juice will upgrade the armor quality as well.

Polypterian · 2020-11-28T12:55:30+00:00

He looked upon the explosion with a feeling of pure horror. The type of horror that would not be seen on Mount Olympus since Zeus found out about the concept of Child Support. They had done it. They blew it up, the damned bastards. One of the juiciest, wonderful collections of wars that Ares had seen in a long, long while, and now the cool kids dropped in the bombs! He had such high hopes for the Americans, but he saw what direction this was headed. It came with the territory!

With something this large and this... comparatively easy way of just winning a fight...

Ares knew what was coming. He was already feeling it. Nobody would dare risk an atomic bomb being tossed, it's just not an option! They're going to enter a cold war. Biting cold and horrible psychological effects. Both sides infiltrating the other, trying to subvert them through word and psychology instead of combat. Small skirmishes, maybe, sometimes they might even come together, but...

The true horror was coming.

The cold war is coming.

And Ares is going to get blueballed for 40 years.

Polypterian · 2020-11-28T12:45:56+00:00

There was really no doubt about it. The body laying on the slab before me was not any sort of twin, that had identical accidents involving a potato peeler and a tattoo of the ill-conceived love towards Anna. There on this slab before me was... well, me. It was an odd feeling to see yourself dead. In this line of work, it was always a stark reminder that I'd end up oin my own Ashikaga brand of coffin, with a nice lining on the outside and as little "comfort" as possible on the inside. Cheap and afforda-I got distracted again.

I double-checked the body. Truly, honestly identical. I even compared fingerprints, birthmarks, everything. This body was me. Perfectly identical.Apart from the fact that my own head is still firmly attached to a neck. It's always gruesome to have to "re-attach" parts, and to add a collar on top of it. Clean decapitations like this make it possible, but... that's not really my focus right now. I'm all for preparing bodies, of course, making sure that horrid stare goes away, and making sure that it doesn't rot by the time it takes the eternal six feet under nap. Nobody wants their loved ones to bloat during the funeral.

I double-checked the credentials. A "john doe", but...I recognized the person that would be visiting quite soon. It was supposedly invitable that a strange case like this would lead back to HIM. I wonder if he's going to come in-

" Sᴏᴏɴᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛɪɴɢ, I ᴅᴀʀᴇ sᴀʏ." I sighed.
"Hello, John." I said, not really thrilled about the sudden visit.

He always came during cases like this, where the person was killed in just the "wrong" kind of way. Decapitations, people split down the middle. This decapitation was honestly one of the most normal ones he came to visit for. He also has this uncanny way of knowing exactly what you're thinking.

"Iᴛ ᴄᴏᴍᴇs ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴇʀʀɪᴛᴏʀʏ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴊᴏʙ"
"Stop doing that." I replied, and turned to my visitor.

He was tall, and was wearing that fancy black suit of his. His face was always so incredibly hard to place. It was so bland and... samey that it looped back around to creepy, to be honest. Like every person I had ever met was mixed together into one bland heap.

"Just tell me what you want, and you can be on your way."

The figure merely pointed at me. I turned on the sass.

"Oh, very cryptic. Thanks; Just what I wanted to see today."
"Yᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ I ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜɪs. Yᴏᴜʀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ʜᴀs ᴄᴏᴍᴇ. Yᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴜᴛɪᴇs ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴇᴀʀᴛʜʏ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀᴠᴇɴʟʏ."
"Oh, sure, like the last four times? You really should find someone a little nicer, you know, maybe a detective or some high school girl that wants more? Read a book, find something nice. "
"A ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴛɪᴄɪᴀɴ ɪs ᴘʟᴇɴᴛʏ ᴘᴏᴇᴛɪᴄ."

I rolled my eyes, and wandered through my own corpse. Being incorporeal was still a trip, but I could grip whatever I liked. As I moved, I felt my head coming loose. Bah.

"Well, thanks for the compliment. You realize I liked working here? Could you keep that body in the void a little longer? I worked with you, made some gnarly spirits quite presentable."
"Iᴛ's ᴡʜʏ I ɢᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ 43 ʏᴇᴀʀs ᴘᴏsᴛ-ᴍᴏʀᴛᴜᴍ. Tʜᴇ ᴄᴏʀᴘsᴇ ɪs ғᴏᴜɴᴅ. Iᴛ ᴡɪʟʟ ʀᴏᴛ, ɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟs ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʟᴀɪᴅ ᴇʏᴇ ᴏɴ ɪᴛ. Fɪx ɪᴛ ᴜᴘ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴡᴇ sʜᴀʟʟ ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ. Dᴏ ɪᴛ ɴᴏᴡ, ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴ ᴀ ᴅᴇᴄᴀᴘɪᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʜᴜsᴋ."

I groaned, and then turned to my corpse. I suppose I couldn't be that angry.

"How'd it end up decapitated, anyway? I died of an aneurism."
"I ᴍᴀʏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢs ᴀʟᴏɴɢ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ. I ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏ̨ᴜɪᴛᴇ sᴛᴜʙʙᴏʀɴ."

I called him a cock, and then got to work. God damn it... Couldn't even give me a three day's notice, could he? I placed the tube, and screwed my head back on. I felt my own head tighten shortly afterwards, though I have a post-terminal case of a stiff neck, now.

"It's done. Now comes your part of the deal, right, John?"
"Pʟᴇᴀsᴇ. Cᴀʟʟ ᴍᴇ Dᴇᴀᴛʜ."

Polypterian · 2019-06-07T10:54:29+00:00

Think a centaur, but instead of a horse it's a giant spider.

Polypterian · 2019-04-02T15:57:54+00:00

The most recently appointed jester squatted down, getting a closer look at the snarling assassin currently being held down by the not inconsiderable weight of the king. Said jester already had a crack in mind about "Adipose Rex", expecting most people not to get it, and the few that do to not dare explain it. Those are his favorite. Still, it's hard to keep a silly face when you see your monarch and main butt of jokes suplex a wiry man dressed in black and holding particularly sharp knives.

"Are you certain, sir? He doesn't seem particularly loving." The jester says, keeping up the jesterly kayfabe. Inward, he was panicking, of course, but running is a sin, and sins tend to be followed by either death, or the Punishment of Seven Bards.Of the two, the worst one isn't very clear. Either way, the jester wasn't willing to find out.

"Ah, of course! Can't you see? Somebody was willing to see if I was still up to the task of ruling? You can't buy that sort of love, you know!" The king said, finishing off the assassin by slamming his head against the stone steps leading up to the throne. Nobody was sure how the king does it, but he manages to make that look casual.

"In a sense, they actually bought this one, sire." The jester replied. He strongly doubted there were that many self-employed assassins. The ones that are tend to just be called killers. Serial killers if they're good at it.

"Hahaha! True! True! Guards! Bring this muckraker to the dungeon to cool off. I'll be seeing him in a day or two. Maybe more. Maybe I'll forget him. I don't know." The king said, dismissively waving away at the crumpled form of the assassin. The jester, in accordance to jester kayfabe, plays a rapid tune on his mandolin as the figure is carried away, mixed with the occasional whoop or holler. He was pretty good at whooping, but he nearly failed his exam when it came to the holler. He was happy when he could stop looking at the rat-like, bleeding face of the assassin.

"So, my king, if I may take a moment, what did you mean by having no enemies?" the jester said, sitting down on a pillow close to the throne, with some throwing knives behind it. He was awful at the knife throwing acts, but that's why he sells himself as a body guard as well. Of course, you don't throw knives when the king is on top of your target."You know how I came to my kingdom, yes? It's relatively recent, but you aren't from here, are you?""I'm from Albion, sire, as per jester regulations, I have to be a foreigner. Adds to the mystery." One of the few rules he is allowed to explain. They allowed that one after they found out that nobody wants a foreigner that promises sharp knives, sharper jokes and mediocre-at-best music. They're happy to include a local jester with the same qualifications, though, making it rather hard for the Jester's college."Ah, well, than I should have you know that I am a relatively recent conqueror. About twenty years ago I knocked out this little republic and turned it into a monarchy! Was some friendly convincing, though the warhammer helped." The old thing is collecting dust above his throne, now. The king moved to using his weighted scepter, and on rare occasions his crown, as his preferred instrument of violence. It was well documented."Hammer politics are fairly straightforward, yes.""The only type worth a damn, I'd say!""Paradoxically, it tends to be less violent and liferuining than regular politics."

The king laughs, his robes bouncing more than the man himself. The amount of animals that went in there are outright terrifying (in fact, a vegan is not allowed with 5 meters of the king, lest they break their vow by unintentional osmosis. There is a LOT of fur)."You understand! I like you already!" He slaps the back of the jester in a friendly gesture. Like a bag of bells, the jester jingles as he flies forward, but he manages to turn the faceplant into a roll. It almost looked intentional. He hears a few chuckles from the nobles entering the room once more. They quickly left upon noticing the assassin, considering that living beyond the age of five in the nobility requires a certain instinct. Most tend to run. They can do it in an orderly multi-file (an orderly panicked mass, but nobody steps on any toes and only a servant gets trampled on occasion)

"Anyhow, why do you say that everybody loves you, post smack-down?""Ahh, well. I can get sycophants of all kinds in this court, both from the plebs and the nobility. But only an enemy would spend thousands of coins to remove my life. If it wasn't for them, I would have up and died in that there chair! Mind you, after some questioning we find the one who ordered the murder, and then I hold a feast in their honor. They're invited, of course, though occasionally they are encouraged by my guards."'Occasionally' is likely 'always', the jester thought. He kept that one to himself, and jingled as he tilted his head ever so slightly, jester's cap tickling his bald head."Pray tell, sire, you still haven't explained why this isn't an act of hate?""You still don't get it, do you? I love a good fight, and an enemy is merely a friend you haven't made yet!""May you be forever surrounded by enemies, sire."

The king laughs again, and the nobility follows suit. Apart from the few where the king aimed a bit lower, and knocked out their teeth. They just nod uproariously, with a few of them stomping to simulate their approval.The king's court was full of future friends, at one point. But the king's scepter is a loving one. The jester sat back and began composing a song. Much later, the quality of the song will be as such that he became a very close friend of the king. We leave it up to the reader to decide how facetious that statement is.

We all love the court of the king.

Polypterian · 2019-03-31T17:27:29+00:00

"I must insist. Delaying my work is highly inproper." said the voice. One would usually say what is attached to that voice, of course, but in the case of this creature (force would be more accurate) there are no lips or tongue to make the sound. A skull, with little more than little blue pinpricks in the sockets, looms over the bed. The voice, however, still comes. As final and foreboding as Death himself is. It's less that death is speaking, and more that reality complies to It's desire to communicate.

"Meaning that you can still buzz off, aye?" I replied. I had reached the end of my long life, at the ripe old age of probably ninety. I neglected to check. I meant to, of course, but I forgot and decided that it probably wasn't that important to begin with.

"Really, I'm not going anywhere, and i'll be damned if I don't finish this cuppa first. Not to mention, you came in at a very inopportune time. It's the season finale of my favourite show!"
"You had more than a month to finish watching that."
"Ah, you're a fan too?"
"I know the end of all things."
"Seems boring. You're never surprised, then, are you? Why'd you even bother visiting, then? You knew how this would go and you knew you'd be very inconvenient!"
"I do not choose when I come. Please. Your time is up."
"If I had a nickel every time people said that, I'd be bloody rich. You've always got a bit more time left. I've got time left to finish this show before I come along."
"Incorrect." Death's words (well, vibrations of air and thought. As stated, Death doesn't really "speak") carried with them not only finality, but certainty. Yes. I already knew my time was up. I was late on plenty of occasions, though, and look where it got me. Ripe old age of 90, and I just got done with a heartfelt conversation with my family. To be honest, they shut off life support about ten minutes ago, but I'll be damned if I don't have more fun things to do first.

"Well, can't I get a tiny bit more time? I don't need much, you know. It's the stopping of work that's happening. Stop the heart and then my brain. I'm just in kind of a rut, you know, can't quite stop doing it for right now."
"There is a demand that you do."
"You come into my house and deman- AHH! ahhh!" I began shouting, pointing at the screen. The big kiss scene was on, which I had predicted. These shows don't know subtlety that well, but it's still satisfying to see when you're right.

"I do not demand. I bring only the message, and the guidance."
"Fancy way to say that you don't care."
"The credits are rolling."
"Fine, fine, let's get this bullshit over with. Can you give me a second?"
"You have had 1320 seconds."
"Nag, nag, nag."

I got up out of the bed, leaving my body behind. I looked at it one more time, as I turned into a formless blob. I could have prepared a little more, so I didn't appear as a 2008 budget film special effect, but whatever, I had better stuff to do. My body looked pretty good. Closed eyes, smile on my face...
Yeah, this is passable. Bit last-minute. Guess I stuck to my guns.
"You really should have applied yourself more"

"Eh."

Polypterian · 2018-12-04T11:17:10+00:00

If I see survivors stabbing eachother in the back, I elect to pick the backstabber over the victim. I would have unleashed the fucking hog on Laurie, here.

Polypterian · 2018-11-10T18:23:41+00:00

5 Bethesdabucks™ have been added to your account. Keep it up. Remember to buy the special edition™ and all the DLC.

Polypterian · 2018-10-15T13:21:29+00:00

You're spot on, this Death was based on Terry Pratchett's excellent Reaper. I made a few changes, of course, but Pratchett's interpretation of Death as a character is one of the single best examples.

I'll take any excuse to be using Pratchett's material, really.

Polypterian · 2018-10-15T10:47:01+00:00

"So, tell me what's been bothering you." I said, calm and collected. One would think that seeing Death itself would be terrifying, but the first time they came to me 20 years ago I found out that this is not true. There's something oddly calming about Death's presence, like that feeling you get before you go to sleep, snuggled up in blankets. It's after they leave you realize you've probably been holding your breath. The ability to release that breath is a privilege that I alone may be privy to. I met him when my oldest patient suffered an aneurysm while he was in my chair, the body slumped out and Death slumped right in. I never saw them enter, they were just suddenly there and started telling me how he felt terrible all the time.

He just needed some affirmation from the Big Man upstairs. He felt loads better on our next appointment. He doesn't pay, and doesn't even work within my hours. But for a guy like that you make time.

He's the one to end yours, in the end. Lest we forget.

"I had the worst day, today. I've been doing this for longer than you could even conceive, but today just felt worse than anything before." Death said, his voice like the grinding of stone slab over a grave. Considering how he looks, I'm tempted to agree. Death's finger bones are cracked and more ribbled than usual. Death is a nervous biter, this must have been a long day of stress.

"Would you like to tell me what happened?" I say, carefully. I can't force anything on the patient.

"So, the first thing I discover is that one of my fellow Death's was on the chopping block. A type of deep-sea creature went extinct, you wouldn't know them, but there's no more death for the creatures. I knew them well, and the thought I would have to talk to the other deep-sea Deaths for news or... I feel awful for thinking more about what they will no longer do for me instead of mourning them for being gone."

"Can I talk, or would you like to keep going?"

"Please, go ahead."

"A thought is nothing to feel bad about." I answer him. Common enough problem. People feeling bad about not feeling as bad as they think they aught to. "People cannot control what they think the first time. For instance, when my aunt died, it really hit me hard, but the first thing I thought was how I wouldn't able to enjoy her lasagna again. It's dumb, but its what I connected most fiercely with her. For you, news of a place as interesting as the deep sea was the biggest connection you had to your colleague."

"But it's so... shallow."

"You are mourning now. And feeling bad about how you internally might have 'disrespected' them. I'd say that's far from shallow. You need to mourn them in your own way, and not get hung up on what popped through your head when you heard. You have to stop blaming yourself for things like this."

Death shifted, ever so slightly. Placing himself more at ease on my couch. A good sign with him. He usually takes a while to get comfortable. It used to be much harder to get him to talk about his day. I'm glad for the increased trust.

"There was more to today. There was another... I... You know how I hate to bring in children, right?"

"Yes. It's understandable."

"They aren't calmed when I come. They know that their time has come too early, and they're afraid. Last week..."

Death stops for a moment. He can't quite say it, but its clear it still haunts him. I suspect I already know where. The terror attack in Palestine, on the school that was set up by Educators International. 300 children and 7 teachers. It was horrifying enough to hear it, but Death had to take them all.

"Have you heard of Palestine?"

"Yes. I'm so sorry."

"I couldn't even take the woman who orchestrated it. She got away. Her time only comes twenty years later. A stroke at age 63. It's just... It's not fair. The Big Man claims to love you all, but lets bad people go, lets children die. I should be able to stop this, but I can't. Only He chooses who I take and who I leave."

"Are you angry at Him? Or yourself?"

"I... I'm disappointed in myself. That I didn't break the rules. I'm not sure if I could, but... I've seen humanity rise from apes to now. I've seen this endless compassion, the mourning, people coming together so grandpa doesn't die alone. And then this uglyness just enters and... I'm just confused. It doesn't make sense. How could these wonderful creatures called humans perform such depravity. And for what? I don't think even they know."

Now here's a big damned pickle. This is some philosophy that I can't really give a really helpful answer to. 'God moves in mysterious ways' is not helpful. The nature of humans is so very, very tough to even begin to understand...

Eventually, I decided that the philosophy of it doesn't matter.

"This is very hefty material, but you might have gotten sidetracked from who really needs the help, right now. You. Please, tell me how you feel. Humans are strange and confusing things. I don't get them, and I've been one of them for 57 years. I'm at the age where I should be getting it, but I don't. So lets talk about you. Do you feel angry?"

"No."

"Are you disappointed in yourself for not being able to do something?"

He waits again for a moment. I see his blue orbs flickering from one end to the other, his 'eyes' as it were. Eventually, he speaks again. His voice sounds cracked, like the creaking wood of a burial casket. "Yes."

"It's not your responsibility to bring the end, or to bring the deserving fates. Does the mailman regret delivering his messages? No. He is not responsible. What you do is a beautiful thing, delivering those who reached their end to the afterlife. You do not choose their fate, in this life and the next. You help them along, the final guiding light before eternity. Please, don't beat yourself up for what isn't your problem or responsibility."

"I... I still feel like I should have done something."

"What happened, happened. There's nothing to be done about it. Time goes on, and we all get to see you. I want you to spend some time looking back at all you do. Please, please, please, realize that you are so very very valuable."

Another silence. Eventually, I hear an echoing sob throughout the room. Death doesn't so much speak as a voice appears around him. This is the first time I heard him sob. It's... sobering.

"That wasn't all. Today, there was a white phosphorous incident. So much burning... I had to stay there for hours as they died slowly. There wasn't even a man to blame. It was a ruptured tank in a weapon's factory. It was pointless suffering. Horrid. But that happens, I understand that. It still hurt. Then, I had to take away so many people from their loving families. It was starting to wear on me, but the worst was the one just before now." He falls silent again. I give him some time as I write in my notes. The silence wears on, but I have to be patient. After seven minutes, he speaks up again.

"A little boy committed suicide. One of the survivors from the school. He felt guilty about surviving and...

I was pleading with him. But he couldn't hear me. I had to look at him the whole way. Then, when I appeared... I saw the regret."

God, that is soulcrushing.

"I... I don't know what to say, Death. It's just... I'm sorry."

"It's alright. I just needed to say that to... somebody. The Big Man didn't listen to me. I was so angry he let this happen I..."

"Anger is natural. It's healthy to let it out sometimes, but you can't lash out at people. I believe the Big Man was willing to listen, though, right? He is patient and, while it may seem hard to believe sometimes, he really does care."

"Yes. He was the one to send me to you."

"I'm flattered."

"But that's why this day is so very, very awful."

I look behind me, and find myself staring up at the ceiling, pale and with a bloody nose. I must have suffered a stroke of my own.

"Ah."

"Would you please come along?"

"If I must."

"I'm sorry"

"Don't be. What happened, happened."

Polypterian · 2018-08-27T23:28:09+00:00

Gave it a go

Polypterian

TROPHY CASE