Badass Dragons of the Wasteland - Round Five Results

Mission One: Who You Gonna Call?

The evening rang with the chime of skulls cracking on steel bumpers, and Cheviot Drive ran black with the spilled ichor of the undead residents. Desmond Balthar nearly overheated his clutch plates when three unusually tough and sinewy zombies tangled their gristle around his driveshaft, but in the end, surprise was on the side of the four Mission One Drivers, and they pulled safely into the gated drive of Billy and Brian’s sprawling manse without loss of more than five fingers between them. Not a bad outcome, relatively speaking; in a gentler age, someone would have some serious explaining to do concerning all the severed limbs and effluvia dripped all over the flagstones. Bill the BUM was still acting strangely (well, more strangely than was usual for the fanatical old Mechanic), but since nobody could put their remaining finger on the problem (and nobody seemed to want to get close enough to try), the other three Drivers simply gave him his space for the moment.

Rideword blasted a quick shave-and-a-haircut on his Vanagon’s horn and the sturdy garage door opened just long enough to admit the Drivers before closing against the approaching tide of Beverly Hills Carrion On The Hoof. It’s hard to shamble quickly in Louboutins, so Beverly Hills zombies tend to move as an elegant, dignified horde, quite unlike the ravenous sprinting masses that stink up the streets east of La Cienega. The Westside Zoms would wrinkle their surgically-perfected noses at such unwashed filth, if they hadn’t finally rotted off their faces some months ago.

Brian took one look at Sir Gonville De’Ath’s Rockin’ Top Hat and grinned broadly. “Well. It’s about time you guys got here. And it’s great to see that I’m not the only one to retain a trace of style and panache, now the whole world’s gone tits-up.”

-“I figure there’s no point in outliving the rotten bastards outside if we can’t preserve some of the finer things that make life worth living. I keep telling this to Billy, but I can’t get through to him. He really looks like he’s given up and just wants to join them.”

After a mutually appreciative word or two shared with Brian about the value of tasteful haberdashery in the postapocalypse, De’Ath whispered to Billy, “Our mutual friend Cougar says you might have something useful stashed away.”

-“Golf clubs?” replied Billy dully. “Bent the nine iron over the mayor’s skull last week on a beer run.”

-“Don’t think so. Blunt instruments we already have. Got anything more specialized?”

-"…maybe my old scuba gear?"

Rideword leaned forward. “We was told that you might answer to this: Who you gonna call?

Billy stiffened, then a broad grin began to creep over his face. “Really? It’s come to that? Not zombies or raiders or radioactive giant insects, but… you guys really need me?!

-“Looks that way,” said Rideword, wondering if anyone could actually need someone who seemed so completely round the bend.

-“Hold on. Wait right here.” And Billy tore upstairs and began rummaging around in a closet. Brian waited downstairs with the Drivers making polite small talk until he noticed the zombie guts Bill the BUM had tracked in from the the driveway. “Pick up that blood,” he ordered gruffly.

And then Billy emerged at the top of the stairs, grinning like a proud maniac and ready to go.

-“I’ll need to pick up some D batteries for the proton pack. Is there a 7-Eleven on the way?”

To which the Drivers couldn’t help but respond:

Let’s hear from them how the journey back to the Ark went.

Desmond Baltar, Scout (Steampunk Banana)

16 HP (started with 29/31)

13 HP lost from 2090 zombies encountered; 6 regular damage from 240 hits, 7 critical damage from 120 hits, avoided lost fingers! 0 fingers lost at -2 MV each! Proton pack retrieved!

Bill the BUM, Mechanic (webiii1976)

23 HP (started with 31/31)

8 HP lost from 2584 zombies encountered; 7 regular damage from 200 hits, 1 critical damage from 20 hits, Chomp! 3 fingers lost at -2 MV each! Proton pack retrieved!

Rideword, Mule (Solomon)

51 HP (started with 54/72)

Only 3 HP lost from 3192 zombies encountered; 2 regular damage from 240 hits, 1 critical damage from 40 hits, Chomp! 1 fingers lost at -2 MV each! Proton pack retrieved!

Sir Gonville De’Ath, Escort (daneel)

42 HP (started with 57/68)

15 HP lost from 2432 zombies encountered; 7 regular damage from 200 hits, 8 critical damage from 100 hits, Chomp! 1 fingers lost at -2 MV each! Proton pack retrieved!

Mission Success

Mission Two: Overnight Sensation

At the Roxy, Channing, Junior, and Clank approached the grizzled old veteran of the Rock Wars seated at the bar. They each made their impassioned cases and he listened with the one ear he could spare, the other permanently ringing with the tinnitus of atomic warfare and the wages of a life lived in service of Lemmy’s credo: “Everything Louder Than Everyone Else.”

2B - Killed By Death

After a moment’s thought and a couple swigs of Jack, Lemmy turned to Channing. “Amoeba, huh? Yeah, that one’s a ball-scratcher, innit? Been tryin’ to get a coupla old Hawkwind seven-inchers outta there that I pawned years ago. Never could get past ol’ Blobby. Everything I threw at him, he just puked back at me or absorbed. You’ll need subtlety with that cat, not my strong suit. Take Jane with you; she knows her shit. Maybe if you could pull a fast one on the front, she can come in from the side. And if you do get in and can grab me anything by Hawkwind, I’ll be in your debt.”

As a reminder, Channing screened the following horrorshow:

In response to which, the Blob recoiled in abject horror. Was it the relentless viscosity increase of the cold? Was it the sheer Schumacherness of the film clips? We may never know, but the Blob let out a piercing, oleaginous shriek that shattered nearby windows, and retreated far enough for Jane to slip inside the Amoeba and hunt for the desired records.

Having successfully absconded with both the Voyager record and a pristine copy of Hawkwind’s Silver Machine single, the triumphant pair returned to the Ark to collect Channing’s 10LP bonus.

And back at Sunset and Cahuenga, a forlorn Blob shivered in a psychosomatic winter, almost entirely of its own making.

Channing Hunter, Escort (gwwar)

73 HP (started with 83/83)

You sustained some heavy window damage from the Sonic Blobular Scream… in fact, you have no window or headlight glass remaining! 10 HP damage. Voyager Record obtained!

Mission Success

2A - Overkill

-“As for Tower, gentlemen, I think we could maybe take that one on. You… you’re, uh, Clank-N-Furter is it? I don’t know how well you fit into this neighborhood, but I guess we can find out. The Strip is a hell of a party, and you’re gonna have to cut loose if you want to kick ass and enjoy yourself.”

-“And you, uh, Halloween Ronjack Snakeskins, was it? I do appreciate the fine new hat you got me.”

-“And you’re looking like maybe you know how to take care of yourself in a neighborhood like West Hollywood.”

-“Let’s go pull a fast one on the spandex-and-Aqua-Net poseurs down the block. You and me put on the show while Clank ducks into the Tower vault. And let’s begin with something mellow, 'cause I don’t wanna live forever… but apparently I am.”

Jack Burton Jr. aka “Junior”, Mule (funruly)

21 HP (started with 42/55)

You encountered 6 rock-n-roll zombie vehicles. Unsurprisingly, they were quite drawn to you. The first four you dealt with quickly - their fancy vehicles turned out to be all facade and each managed only 2 HP damage each. The final two seemed a little tougher, but nothing you couldn’t handle. Still, they caused 7 and 6 HP damage, for a grand total of 21 HP.

Clankenstein, Mechanic (davide405)

8 HP (started with 31/31)

You encountered 4 rock-n-roll zombies - the ones that were all facade. Your upgrades helped immensely, but the first three still managed to deal 6 HP of damage each. The last one got 5 HP off of you before Junior gave you the covering fire you needed to duck into the Tower Records vaults. Voyager Record obtained!

Mission Success

Mission Three: Put Me In, Coach!

Despite his tendency to wear his spankin’ new Dodgers cap a bit too high on his head, the Major knew how to blend in with the home crowd:

Knife, however, immediately sensed trouble as they stepped out of the tunnel near the Lexus Dugout Club suites, and his Raiders hat came into the view of the undead crowds milling on the field all the way up to the upper deck. Even worse: the undead Dodgers themselves saw the hated Raiders hat. Boy, do dead ballplayers hate disloyal fans in their house. Fortunately, the Stark Industries box was nearby. Let’s hear them tell how matters unfolded:

Jack “Knife” Boyer, Escort (drman321)

6 HP (started with 43/53)

37 HP lost from 205 zombies encountered; 21 regular damage from 20 hits, 16 critical damage from 8 ballplayer hits, avoided lost fingers! 0 fingers lost at -2 MV each!

Maj. Joseph Talleyrand-LaRoche, Scout (peregrinus_bis)

29 HP (started with 38/38)

9 HP lost from 129 zombies encountered (most of which gave you a pass due to your team allegiance); 9 regular damage from 8 hits, 0 critical damage from 0 ballplayer hits, Chomp! 2 fingers lost at -2 MV each! Your smooth, aristocratic fingers apparently looked like Dodger Dogs to some brain-dead fans. You successfully obtained the key without disturbing Ms. Potts!

Mission Success

Mission Four: Fuel on the Hill

Meanwhile, out in the parking lot, a merry gymkhana was taking place with Scouts Honey and Bubba driving circles around Bertie, who tended to just drive over any of the Parking Lot Security Team who got in his way. They took turns siphoning precious fuel out of the parked cars while the other two distracted (and slaughtered) the hapless Lot Zombies, Many gallons were obtained, not all of it fresh enough to be usable, but overall the trip was looking to be an easy romp… until the stadium denizens chanced to look out at the parking lot and spy three out-of-towners wreaking havoc and having a generally fun time… while two of them wore hated Raiders caps! Honey’s stovepipe hat wouldn’t hurt her (in fact the extra SP helped), but Bubba and Bertie faced a murderous horde of bat-wielding undead ballplayers, their fury at the Drivers’ failure to bleed Dodger Blue in Chavez Ravine only inflamed by the decades-old betrayal of Al Davis for moving the Raiders back to Oakland. After all this time, even though it was a different league and a different sport and the Raiders weren’t all that great in L.A. anyway, it’s weird what strange obsessions haunt the almost-mindless skulls of the undead.

Let’s see if Honey managed to help keep them alive, and how much fuel they were able to salvage.

Bertie Gomez, Mule (Palomeque)

23 HP (started with 52/65)

29 HP lost from 2964 zombies encountered; 14 regular damage from 260 hits, 15 critical damage from 160 ballplayer hits, avoided lost fingers! 0 fingers lost at -2 MV each! 32 gallons fuel successfully scavenged, having spilt 9 gallons!

Bubba Zanetti, Scout (bizmail_public)

18 HP (started with 29/38)

11 HP lost from 2280 zombies encountered; 8 regular damage from 300 hits, 4 critical damage from 60 ballplayer hits, Chomp! 2 fingers lost at -2 MV each! 23 gallons fuel successfully scavenged, having spilt 8 gallons!

’Honey’ Mallone, Scout (kyntha)

9 HP (started with 32/34)

23 HP lost from 1634 zombies encountered; 23 regular damage from 190 hits, 0 critical damage from 0 ballplayer hits, avoided lost fingers! 0 fingers lost at -2 MV each! 25 gallons fuel successfully scavenged, having spilt 10 gallons!

Mission Success

Hey, who’s that hauling ass back up to Burbank? What’s he up to?


It may be tough repairing vehicles when the best gesture I can produce is this:

But I’m sure Clank can fix me up with some prosthetic digits

Also: I :heart: round 5!


Fucking zombies.


You guys should have gotten those screens back in mission 1 like the cool high-fivin’ Desmond.


The juice, the precious juice…

I’m sorry that fingers had to get chomped as part of the mission.

Any possibility of …?



Bloody zombiemanship was a bit down today. I’d have preferred to lose fingers with panache, some sort of elegance. Style.

Potts still looking lovely. This whole world could have taken a different turn had she not … thumbed her nose at me.


Well, Lemmy, that was something. Something loud. Turning the E.A.R.A.C.H.E. up to 11 and hitting those poser cars with You Better Run, that’s some funny shit.

Hey man, if you got nothing else going on, why don’t you ride with us? Pop that open E string and come Running with the Devil.

Lord knows we need every able finger we can find.


Well it just goes to show that you’re never 100% safe, even when you have steamrolling zombies down to a science.

Most of my day went like this

But as I went through a pack I got a hanger-on my passenger side. He managed to get his head through my vent window before his body came loose, and I lost a finger to the still-snapping skull.

I think I’ll mount it on my back gate to keep prying hands off my trunk button.


My day was more like this:

I got red on me.


Nice Run Jane! (@penguinchris) Looks like we found The Blob’s weakness. I’m not sure we can use it twice, but hopefully you found a few sweet tunes between that mad dash for the Voyager Record.

Hmm, looks like we’re down a number of fingers in our merry group. Be safe out there folks. Never did like zombies. Was always terrified I’d end up with hook hands like this guy:


“Many Shuvs and Zuuls knew what it was to be roasted in the depths of the Slor that day, I can tell you.”

Such were the words of prophecy spoken years ago. Little did we know the Shuv Raiders and zombies called Zuuls would come for us at the time, we just wanted to watch a movie. But we ran the gauntlet and came away with the prizes. I wish we’d been able to get to their friend Harold in time, he would have been a hell of a Mechanic. Damn shame Danny-boy fell down the wacko tree (hitting every branch on the way down, apparently) and we lost him in that tragic zombie outbreak in Mexico while he was investigating that crystal skull business. And poor Ernie, nobody’s seen him anywhere since long before the fall.

We rode in, hot tires, smoking guns, trying to forget the things we’d seen. Having an immense fear of losing fingers the initial expense of wire mesh around the cockpit of the Cobra paid itself off in spades again. I’m going to have to track down more of it for a second layer, as the zombies seem to be getting more aggro.

But for a while it seemed Billy’d forgotten how to be human, and I thought we’d have to leave him there, but boy did he show up in glorious style. All was forgiven when he opened up the back of Ecto 1 and started flipping switches. I was also greatly impressed by the 1936 Ford Phaeton from his FDR movie that he’d kept away in a corner, what a beauty.

So we all saddled up to head out. Billy and Brian were driving Ecto 1 just so we wouldn’t fight over who got to sit where, and crept out the driveway. As scout I took it upon myself to get out ahead of the pack and draw the majority of them off with my speed. We wanted to leave the house as a safe point in case they needed to return so I blasted some Jackie Wilson

and rumbled the pipes to get a little attention. As soon as the gates cleared enough width I threw the zombie in front a wink and shot through the gap, tires squealing and horns blaring over the Kenwood. Let’s just say that it got a little messy there for a while but I kept moving forward to encourage them to follow. Having emptied most of their freezer of various meat products to drag behind me probably helped but we’ll have to hear from everyone else to see how well that worked, I was busy heading west.

About a mile or so later I cut the rope to the meat popscicle, made a U-turn and came back 50 cals blazing catching a lot of heads at bumper height. Let’s just say if you see a big gooey spot on the 10 from space, that was me.

I wandered my way down, catching a few bits of attention from a raider here and there, but my goal was to get to Pasadena before getting back. It was at least another gallon of gas, but I knew of a little place that had done some work with with a few military “specialists” in Colorado that I used to know. They were always showing off their falsies and it was quite impressive.

At any rate, I think we’re going to need some mechanics to read a lot of manuals and help me out with knowing what goes where, but I certainly have some mechanical knowledge to solder and help out as best I can to make my trunkload of prosthetics work for everyone.


I heard he got killed by gorillas while working as a mercenary in the Congo.


actually, that was Roland .

(OOC – the person who made the video clearly completely missed the point of Warren’s song. Which only adds to the Irony 8)

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You know, I used to know a guy a lot like that. Had a nice dog for the most part. Not a bad man, per se, but good luck to you if you ever crossed him. All you had to know was to do the right thing from the get go and don’t try to doublecross him. Or, if you do, have a shedload of firepower on your side and a boot on his neck…

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Hey, Junior (@funruly). We still playing cards?

Perhaps we should change the game to three-card brag, owing to my current…indisposition.

There’s a few things to be aware about yon mad chappie; firstly, I’d heard that his moniker formerly referred to his angry disposition, whereas nowadays it’s more about his mental stability.

On top of that, he has demonstrated repeatedly that he has a certain animosity towards all things English; I gather he’s got a slightly jaundiced view of historical events that apparently upset him somewhat. The Major and I may be well advised to avoid his attention.

The other thing is that apparently he isn’t too welcoming to those of different faiths, so perhaps our Brothers Mechanical may want to also stay out of his way.

And then there’s his famous contretemps with Bubba.

In fact, I guess everyone should stay out of his way.

Luckily (and Junior may remember this, since they go way back, apparently - more drama) -

he has a certain weakness that we may be able to exploit.


“what are you looking at, Sugar tits?”

“I own this town”


…and for those of you that are still under the delusion that we’re going to Mars

This book provides a helpful checklist.


Piffle. Childish science fiction obviously aimed at kids who don’t believe aircraft carriers can fly or that the restless dead walk the earth.

Of course we can live on Mars.


Trusssst you?