You know, John warned me about you.

He told me all about the time you stopped your group mid-adventure to build a time machine made out of steel golem parts and an enchanted hourglass. Your intelligence and wisdom were so high that you easily made every check, and went in the past to warn your younger selves thereby collapsing the space/time continuum.

He told me about the time you survived thirty-six reflex checks on your agility-juiced rogue, who leapfrogged across a pit of lava, skipping six rooms jam packed full of gnolls, not to mention jam packed full of information necessarily to make sense of the overarc-ing story.

He told me that you roll a sixer to decide whether or not to pick up loot, roll an eight to choose which weapon you’re going to swing with, and flip a coin at the start of the game to decide whether or not you’re even going to play.

Some would call that annoying.

But John’s the railroading control freak, I’m not. I’m tolerant of a lot of different play styles. Whether you like to be a rules lawyer – like Chris – or you want to have a forty and smoke a bowl – like Billy, here – my game is open to anybody. I’m down with it, as long as we all have fun.

It’s just…well…it’s called roleplaying Larry, not rollplaying. You know what I mean?

Let me give you an example. Remember that scene we were in last week? You had to talk to that buxom half-elf bartender for information, right? Now, the way you statted out your character, the unimaginatively named “Dildo Raggins”, with charisma, you have to concede that Mr. Raggins is, as you would say, panty butter.

So I was disappointed when instead of trying to seduce the woman, who was obviously there for you to seduce, you instead take out your (borrowed) set of decahedrons and roll.

That’s not the point, man. Rolling doesn’t tell me what you say, nor does it tell me your tone. Were you sensual? Playful? A bit flirty? No nonsense?

This shit matters Larry. It helps immerse us all in the theater of the game, and you whipping out the dice and saying, “I got three successes.” sends a wrecking ball straight through that fourth wall.

Yeah, I know she’s imaginary. I know that falsetto I use makes you a bit uncomfortablem, but my voices bring the character to life. I’m sorry I touched your leg for a moment there, but that’s just me putting my considerable acting chops to use for our collective entertainment. The other guys enjoy it too. The voice and the touching is as essential as the wig and leather corset were: they enhance the character.

That’s all besides the point. What I’m trying to say, without forcing it, is that you should make up your mind for yourself, for once. Instead of letting chance determine your choices, go with your gut.

Yes, I know it’s really hard for you to do that, what with your Asperger’s and all, but I think that once you’ve mastered tackling things without the aid of a d20 in the safe confines of Todd’s basement here, you can take this way of thinking up those stairs and out the door, and maybe find yourself on a date with a woman that you don’t have to excuse yourself every half hour to make a secret roll in the men’s room.

So, Larry, get a little more involved in the emotional life of your character. I think you might have a little breakthrough.

Now if you’ll excuse me — John’s being tortured in the next scene, and I haven’t found my car battery and jumper cables yet.

By Hardcasual’s own Canadian Correspondent, Filipe Salgado.