stalking dark corridors
the treasure can't be trusted
if it's not booby trapped
it's a monster in disguise
our greed turned against us
gotta go slow
embrace the methodical
speed kills
ten floors deep
wireframe and theatrical flat suggestions
of blando corridors
you'd think the domains of some maniacal wizard would be more flamboyant
but this monotony could all be to a purpose:
drive the enemy out with confusion and tedium
leave theatrical evil to Count Dracula and his aristocratic indulgences
Werdna's austerities of form and place have their own anti-distinctive protective mojo
leave the seductions and the spectacles to the pretentious bloodsuckers of this world
maybe this is Werdna's Way
of evoking a monstered community
ravaged'n'hollowed out
by capital-as-per-usual
fuck the hero quest
this is some kind of an eviction,
ain't it?
play it with a homebrew OST
of sounds of demolition
chatter of trash-out crews
heroic dungeoneering no more
now the party's doing a slow motion tear down
of some unwanted, unauthorized Labyrinth
that the state has turned a blind eye to
for far too long
no doubt the Mad Overlord's gonna turn it all into a shopping mall combined with underground Apocalypse shelters for all his oligarchic friends
THE NEXT EVOLUTION OF PREMIUM RETAIL SURVIVALIST LIFESTYLE IMMERSION
brochures come to mind
you
the player character
ain't even really playing at anything
you roll up a crew
you're gathering workers
you
the player
are just some form of
uh
what?
a . . . spooky supervisory consciousness
that'll do
minimal interface
strip out the human
rationalized processes of erasures
the hardcore gamers are like "fuck the story"
which is good basis
for trash-out supervisory consciousness
Werdna
or so I hear
got rehoused
inside that blazing bland low-cost development
Werdna's pension's just enough to cover it
better than getting disappeared by the Mad Overlord's secret police,
I guess,
but His Madness is trying to put on a happier global capitalist face
and Werdna's not making a stink
and he's got Murphy's Ghost to keep him company,
now there's a sad sack spirit,
the Murphy's (Law) Ghost
wandering the blazing blando development
mutter-composing some endless letter
chronicling his great unrecognized Protagonist-hood
to some fanbase
that only exists inside Murphy's spectral skull
well,
least Murphy's still got that hustle
however much of a Godot Routine it might be
Werdna's just staring into television
drinking beer after beer
likes them microwaveable Santa Fe rice and beans
and the Swedish meatballs are just fine,
too
heard that the Mad Overlord's in talks with Count Dracula to do something special with the newly renovated underground
say,
player,
they're gonna need you
to crew-the-fuck-up
put on some security theatre for the influx of oligarchs and fugitive war criminals
looking to occupy
some newly valuable space
pays well
or so I hear
