There are times when one's course of action runs like a clear line of dogsled tracks through the unbroken snow, and by starting at the logical point of origin and following the brave, blazoned trail one reaches the final conclusion with an air of inevitability, bounding across the finish line to the cheers and accolades of one and all.
And sometimes your dogs pull you off of a glacier and down, down, down to an icy death.
|Plank Town on fire...|
Whether the motivation was demonic paranoia fueled by alcohol and megalomania or just the result of extended gaming outside the Pit of Despair, the attendant members of DCM decided that the best way to drown out the sounds of Tiamat's cries was to blow a hole in Plank Town's walls and drain the beer moat into the cellars.
And, in true DCM fashion, it kinda worked.
So much so that the draconic screams were reduced to liquid mumbles and everyone was able to sleep. But in the morning, not only was everyone surprised to find that Plank Town was back to normal again, (read: merely uninhabited by Fundus and his menchildren) but a pageboy by the name of Douchecoosh had turned up at the gates, summoning DCM to Prince Englebert's for the public shaming of Count Fundus.
|A familiar statue...|
Also, I've quite forgotten what 'Billy and the beer nuts' refers to, but I have a good idea...