Gary Gygax ran out of hit points yesterday. The ultimate dungeon master died we’ll miss him. I tried D&D once when I was 10. Once. I became allergic to accounting so I had to stop. Nonetheless Gary affected all of us, so as a tribute I wrote a poem:

LINGERING MIST

You were the ultimate DM
And for a PC it was easy to see,
Flocked to your game like mice,
Was that cheese inside them
Polyhedral Dice? Nice.
Call me a dork but I’m not even a Halfling to your mind’s Orc
Only with you I’d Roll
Never touched them Tunnels and Trolls,
No, matter how others would demand…
They could talk to the Chainmail hand
And while my friends were smoking joints
Reducing their brain cell’s hit points
With you I would always remain
GARY Good luck on your heavenly campaign!

Lingering Mist.

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