Pillowy Soft My @55! (pt 1)

Years and years and years ago, GM was running a group of about 6 of us. I lived with a friend and GM would spend many days and nights with me, being my significant other and all. The gaming group consisted of his immediate supervisor at work, two coworkers, a pal of his, my roomie, and myself. We would walk down the stairs, out the door, walk 50 feet, into a small apartment complex, up the stairs and into the coworker's door. Total commute? 1 minute. 3 if we were dawdling.

GM's mother had passed away earlier that year from the harsh realities of fighting colon cancer and he was of an age where he needed to be tested. So, reading the instructions on the bottle, he believed that he could handle taking the liquid laxative prepping agent at the allotted time. (Hint: mix that little bottle with at least a litre of gingerale - it isn't palatable otherwise)

GM prepared his materials and proceeded down the stairs. I had warned him that the concoction when it hits hits hard. He didn't believe me.

One step.

Two steps.

On the third step, he suddenly turned around and I ended up ass over teakettle as the door to the bathroom slammed behind me. All I remember was the rather large blur bouncing off my shoulder. I sighed, and picked up the scattered pieces of his gaming supplies and tucked them in with mine.

Three minutes later, he appeared and made the attempt again. He got halfway down the stairs before reversing his course. I ducked out of his way. Roomie wasn't so lucky.

For the next half hour, roomie and I stood vigil and out of his way as repeated attempts to get down the stairs were made.

Finally, GM had me call and make arrangements. Roomie went down the stairs and held open his door. Coworker held open the door to his apartment building while his girl held open their apartment door.

If you have ever seen a 250lbs man make a bee-line for anything, you'll understand the blur that followed. Suddenly, GM threw open the bathroom door and ran, skipping stairs on the way down, just missing the roomie holding open the door, bouncing through the two parking lots, holding his hand out to use a pole to slingshot himself up the other set of stairs and finally careening off the walls to land in the coworker's bathroom.

I followed him as the dutiful girlfriend of the GM would, setting up his screen, his dice, handing out character sheets and more. The group sat down and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Finally, he came out of the bathroom and we began to game.