WTF, D&D: Cthulhu ’90s Solo Project – The Toné Out of Space


Zack: The music shop is located in one of those desolate white working-class suburbs that usually hang around failed industrial cities. A defunct papermill is nearby and the foul smell of chemicals used there linger in the air. The shop is tiny, its windows yellowed with smoke.

Steve: Smoke? Paper mill? Definitely bringing the flamethrower inside this place.

Zack: Unfortunately, there is a sign on the door with a diagram of a flamethrower and a no symbol over it.

Steve: No symbol? Like the Ghostbusters symbol?

Zack: Correct.

Steve: Maybe this guy is a Flamethrowerbuster. Guess I’ll leave my flamethrower in the trunk.

Zack: The bell dings as you enter the shop. On the walls you see some dilapidated instruments that look more sunworn and timeworn than used. There are some unusual instruments. Weird piano organs, stringed instruments you’ve never seen before, that sort of thing. An elderly white shopkeeper shuffles out of the back room and stands behind the counter. He eyes you suspiciously over a thick pair of spectacles.

Steve: “Hail and well met good sir, I am a humble adventurer looking for information about some musical instruments you may have recently sold.”

Zack: He looks like you just shoved a lemon into his mouth. “Don’t get many darkies in here.”

Steve: Left Eye gets that record scratch look on her face. “Excuse me?”

Zack: “Mostly the darkies like to play jungle drums. Do ya want some jungle drums?”

Steve: Oh heck no, this old man is going to get killed for the way he is talking.

Zack: If you kill him, you’re not going to get any information.

Steve: I’ll get the information that it felt good to set him on fire.

Zack: He has a smug smirk on his face.

Steve: Against all my instincts, Left Eye is going to politely walk up to the counter and set down the card. “A friend of mine bought some equipment here recently. They had rectangle bases. About 50 of them.”

Zack: “50 jungle drums? Well, my word, it’s a darkie orchestra.” He starts wheezing and laughing.

Steve: Alright Left Eye is popping out her contact lens hiding her red ghoul eye. Then she’s grabbing this old racist by his collar and making him talk.