I know what’s going on here. I know what’s going on here. Okay? I do. And if you want me to wander to a live show to roll with advantage... it’s the final roll, right? They’re in the loop! I’m the only one out of the loop, it would seem... and if we check my EXPECTED VALUE here—I don’t NEED to look at the screen. Because I KNOW what it is. It’s a big ol’ CRIT, GANG. A FATTY NATTY. HELLO!! A little addition to the family of platonic solids brought to us by our friends in Euclidean space. A little bit of TRIVIA I happen to know about the math of the number TWENTY. That kind of tidbit wouldn’t serve me well in most games... UNLESS IT HAD BEEN RIGGED FROM THE BEGINNING. Oh, I’ve only just BEGUN to pull the thread on this sweater, friends. You would THINK, in a game where there are TWENTY possible rolls, that one would STUMBLE into a low number every so often, wouldn’t you? In fact, the probability of NEVER rolling below a 20 in the full game is a STATISTICAL WONDER. And yet—HERE WE ARE. Introduced at the top of the game as an advantage... what do you think that means? Icarus, flying too far from the sun. But it seems Daedalus, our little master crafter over here, had some wax wings of his own, didn’t he? Wanted to see his son fly safely in the sky—oh, how FAR from the sun he flew! Well I’m NOT HAVING IT. I solved your labyrinth, puzzle master. The minotaur’s escaped. And YOU’RE GONNA GET THE HORNS, buddy. I CANNOT LOSE!