blood on the floor

So much for my predictions. But at least I'm having a better night than this guy.

And the networks are now reporting that Dick “Miserable Failure” Gephardt will drop out tomorrow (no links yet). End of distinguished public service career, etc. Eh. Maybe he should have shown up for his day job more often.

Which means that there are now only seven dwarves. And speaking of dwarves (and gnomes, and satyrs), my friend Dean (no, not that Dean) sent me this a week or so back: A Question of Character: The Definitive D&D Guide to the Democratic Presidential Candidates.

Sure, we hear about where the candidates stand on the so-called “issues.” We read their resumes, their five-point plans for improving this or reinventing that.

But all that is trivial. What we all want to know is: What kind of characters would these guys play in a Dungeons & Dragons game? And what kind of players would they be? Role-players or merely roll-players? Would they come in costume? If they played an elf, would they come to your house in Spock-ears, or what?

Really, really important stuff: essential reading if you spent any part of your teen years lost in the enchanted and geeky world of gaming.

Take John Edwards, for instance:

Character name: n/a (see below)
Race: Human (Butterball Boy-Child)
Class/Level: 0-Level Spectator/Geek Wannabee/Snack Fetcher
Alignment: Neutral

John Edwards doesn't even have a D&D character. He aspires to one day have a D&D character.

He's like the chubby kid brother of one of your players, but who's just too young, too immature, and too hyperactive to actually be allowed in the game. He doesn't know the rules and doesn't have a lick of understanding about what any of you are doing, but he just hangs around the table while you're playing, watching in wide-open wonderment at all the incredible adventure. He's just never seen anything like it.

“Go scamper off and grab me a Diet Mountain Dew,” you tell him, hoping to make the little butterball useful. But he's just too enraptured by the ongoing bartering session between your Rogue and a nameless merchant about the proper price for rope, and he absolutely refuses to leave the table until the epic negotiations are concluded. “He's got the merchant down to two copper pieces per yard!” he exclaims, voice squeaking into its most childlike upper register. “I just can't afford to miss what happens next!”

And don't miss the character card for tonight's big winner, John “Kid Irish” Goldberg-Kerry. As I said, important stuff. (Salty language alert, though, so be forewarned.)