You are about to release a fart:
Roll 20: You unleash the most satisfying and exquisite fart in Human existence. The sheer excellence is felt by everyone worldwide, a new religion forms around it, and you become the new fart lord of the planet, hundreds making pilgrimages to your home to hear just a single fart. You later die of complications from the sheer volume of farts in your life time, but are regarded a saint by many.
Roll 1: You shit yourself with so much force you are launched off the planet and into the sun. You die.
You attempt to post a reply to this thread.
You roll a 20: your post is funny, unexpected, original and relevant. It receives over 30 funny ratings, ten winner ratings and a handful of zings. You are rewarded with the knowledge that out there, you made at least forty people either smile or laugh, and for a couple of seconds, forget the troubles in their lives. You have provided a brief moment of happiness in otherwise mostly empty, boring, and in some cases depressing lives.
You roll a 1: Your post involves the player being "launched into space", like practically every other post in the thread (i.e. three posts). It is boring, unoriginal, and unfunny. Everyone hates you. A moderator enters the thread and permabans you for being a terrible poster. You are heard complaining about the ban in a phonecall to your friend by your parents, who are disappointed by your lack of priorities and send you off to military school.
You play TF2
Roll 20: You find two salvaged crates with vintage quality due to a bug related drop.
Gaben and Robin Walker invites you to visit Valve for finding an oddly bug in the drop system.
They invite you to work at valve as an "Ideas guy" with an amazing pay every day.
Gaben also gives you an exclusive preview of Half Life 3.
Roll 1: You get VAC banned
[QUOTE=Sgt. Nikolai;40553770]You play TF2
Roll 20: You find two salvaged crates with vintage quality due to a bug related drop.
Gaben and Robin Walker invites you to visit Valve for finding an oddly bug in the drop system.
They invite you to work at valve as an "Ideas guy" with an amazing pay every day.
Gaben also gives you an exclusive preview of Half Life 3.
Roll 1: You get VAC banned[/QUOTE]
so if you roll a 20 you get to be postal?
You walk into the casino.
1: You lose everything you own and are now a gambling addict.
20: You walk out of your casino.
You take a shit.
Roll 20: You have the most beautiful shit ever. You get crowned the king of the toilet at your work.
Roll 1: You shit so fast that your ass muscles overstretch, the shit somehow ricochets out of the bowl and hits the wall. And you faint.
You are forced to play the Saxophone on stage in front of tons of people.
20: You play the most beautiful serenade ever conceived. It made the gods weep, laugh, and orgasm.
1 : The Saxophone was a bomb and you just killed hundreds of people.
You take a breath.
1: You inhale diamond dust which shreds your esophagus and causes you to choke on your own blood.
20: You're in the right place at the right time to inhale the supercharged particles of an ancient civilization, giving you superpowers and infinite knowledge[sp]and you always roll 20's[/sp]
You eat a hamburger.
1: The hamburger eats you.
20: The hamburger is successfully consumed. It was tasty. You are very satisfied.
You are making toast.
Roll 20: The bread emits a bold, full-bodied smell that summons Demeter, the Greek goddess of grain and the harvest. She lays a wreath upon your head and you ascend to godhood as Atopyrus, god of toast, and she gives you her blessing to marry her daughter Persephone. Since this makes you co-husband with Hades, he sends you on vacation to the Fortunate Isles each winter while she stays with him. You might find sharing a woman with the Greek god of the underworld to be a bit odd, but you're too busy clinking glasses with George Washington and Gandhi in paradise to think hard on it.
Roll 1: Due to an electrical anomaly, the toast becomes super heated and achieves fusion. This sets off a chain reaction that instantly vaporizes you and your home in a miniature nuclear blast that somehow fails to destroy your computer, which is promptly discovered with browser history intact. Someone accidentally plays Footloose at your funeral.
You die:
1:You go to hell.
20:You go to heaven.
You're taking a final exam in high school:
Roll 20: The exam goes fine. You graduate at the top of your class!
Roll 1: Whilst doing the exam a nuke is detonated over your school, killing everyone inside and burning your flesh off while you lay there for a minute whilst on fire and barely alive watching everybody you know burning and rolling around in agony, until their screaming is muffled by the roof that collapses in on them.
You also get a bad grade. :(
You are an assassin hired to take down a Roman noble. As you creep through his home in the dead of night, you are caught by a guard. When he asks who you are and what you are doing, sword drawn, you tell him that you are a guard.
Roll 1: He attempts to grapple you, but instead stabs you in the ass.
Roll 20: You convince yourself that you are, in fact, a guard. You spend the rest of your days patrolling the grounds of the noble you were hired to kill, and grow old with countless grandchildren.
You are trapped in a room with a shit ton of zombies outside. One of your friends is making noise so you want to cover his mouth.
Roll a 1 : you try to extend your arm but you pull all the muscles in your arm. It jolts forward smashing through your friends skull. It continues to fly smashing through a wall causing the roof to collapse crushing your legs. You get eaten by zombies.
Roll a 20. As you put your hand on his mouth his bowls compress releasing a toxic fart that is toxic to Zombies. But has no effects on the living. You have saved the world.
you accidentally drink outdated milk.
1 - the milk has somehow been contaminated with every disease known to mankind, and some that weren't - you become a medical marvel because the sheer amount of diseases cause you to die exactly .15 seconds after the milk travels down your throat. Your corpse eventually spawns the zombie virus, and you cause the apocalypse.
20 - the germs and diseases in the milk enter your body, but you do not die - nor do you become sick; instead, the germs all react to become a superparticle that gives you godlike abilities and immortaily, and fuse themselves with your DNA. Scientists manage to use your stem cells to turn humanity into a race of god-like beings, who, using their godlike abilities to travel through space in seconds, become the prime example of life throughout the universe, and you are elected the supreme leader and God of the Known Universe by every sentient race and being in the universe.
It is late at night and you're looking in the fridge for something to eat.
Roll a 1: You open the fridge door. A waft of frigid air and rotting cheese blasts your already blisteringly cold face. You scrounge around the many half-eaten packs of fast food, tiding back the bursts of pure rancid that you release. With a pained but persistent face, you push past the unending fungal oddities to reveal a loaf of bread, one day away from expiring and chilled far more than any loaf should be. You look around the room for anything better. Anything that could prevent you from relying on this. Nothing but empty boxes and your old television. Defeated, you reluctantly extract the bread from the mouldy masses. You eye over the loaf. Wholemeal, colder than the arctic and doused with fledgling mould. You take one last desperate look at the fridge as your stomach rattles off a loud rumble. You know just as well as it does, you're sure as hell not gonna be able to sleep this hungry. You close your fridge, accept your fate and sit down on your cardboard armchair. As you pick away at the malignant mould, you decide to turn your television on, to try and calm yourself with infomercials and late-night B-movies. The screen flickers and greets you not with the blinding commercialism you expected, but with plain white text and a solid tone. That's not right. You lean in, squinting to read the text. "Imur", you mumble as you slowly absorb the words. "Imurchensee....Broudcast.....Sik....Shelter". Shelter? You double-take and read again. "Emergency broadcast. Seek Shelter immediately." What? As if in answer, a low droning noise rapidly overtakes your senses. Bread in hand, you shuffle your way to the window and peer outside. All at once, the world changed. Thousands of blood-thirsty warmachines loom over the landscape, being greeted by lances of lead and fire. Sirens can be heard growing strong in the background and families were beginning to charge out of their dwellings in droves. You look down at the crowd and see a small unmoving island amongst the now vast river of people. This island, short but thin, is dressed in what you assume are old PJs. You even think you see a teddy bear in its grasp. But just as you realise what you're observing, your subject flays into a dark red cloud, followed by long lines of folk doing the same. Spatters of fat and meat paste themselves to your window as you glance over to the left. From just five figures, gouts of heat and fury spill out into the crowd, eviscerating all they touched. Plumes of combusted souls are now rising from the far cityscapes and whole skylines kneel in suit. You have no time to waste now. Your senses bound back to you. You need to leave, and fast. But it's too late now. In the stairwells below, you can hear the loud retorts of military boots, snapping doors and damning hellfire. You think you hear the dying yelps of a dog as you catch a whiff of fresh meat. But at that moment, as you start scrambling your way to your precious belongings, your door crumbles to reveal a band of shock troopers brandishing bloodied rifles. A deafening crack bounds around the room as your leg gives way to a twisted wreck of agony. As the grim reaper now stands above you, scythe in motion, the last thing you hear from this life, is your own scream.
Roll a 20: [sp]You found OJ and a bag of unopened chips. gj.[/sp]
you step on a rake:
roll a 1: the tip of the rakes breaks the sound barrier as it lashes into and through your face, a passing gorephile masturbates into your exposed skull as you bleed out.
roll a 20: you step on the rake and force it deep into the earth, after a rumble you are thrown into the air by a stream of oil and land in the pool of a upper-class swingers party.
You invade Europe.
Roll 20: You successfully defeat all opposing armies, you install your own regime, you disassemble corrupt private international banking institutions, you create a worldwide socialist paradise and free all people from debt slavery, you restore yours and every countries national identity.
Roll 1: Your armies are defeated, your generals betray you, you are killed, your country is divided among your enemies, your supporters are imprisoned and put to death, stories are created of atrocities you committed, your name becomes forever synonymous with tyranny and evil.
You post in Refugee Camp
1: postal comes and rips your balls out
20: You become the new lead moderator
You want to go to the store.
1: The store was closed 5 minutes ago, the thing you wanted is taken the next day, the internet doesn't have it and your dick is missing.
20: Ooooh it's half price.
You're experimenting with quantum physics to develop a functioning time-machine.
1: An accident occurs during the final stages of your experiment, causing the fabric of reality to collapse, and the universe to break down into nothingness. All time and space is disintegrated to a dark void of silence. Not only does everybody who has lived die, they will never have existed at all.
20: Your experiment is successful. You can travel in time. Good job.
You ask a girl out
20: She drags you to the nearest bathroom then fucks you
1: You approach her, then say nothing as you're so nervous, then as a result throw up all over her, and in the process of trying to wipe it off her, you accidentally grope her boob.
You put on some music.
1: Your speakers turn out to be nuclear bombs in disguise. Flicking them on detonates the bombs, blowing you to smithereens.
20: Instead of the music playing, the artist him/her/themselves fly out of your screen and start performing in front of you.
You are playing a tabletop game.
20: You roll a 20.
1: You roll a 1.
You sing Happy Birthday to your mother
1: As your vocal chords begin to vibrate, the gently blowing breeze suddenly turns deathly calm, the heads of everyone present turn towards you in absolute terror at the unearthly sounds emanating from your mouth. Completely horrified, you find yourself unable to stop as the twisted frequencies spill out, one after the other. The ground begins to tremble as the song reaches its crescendo. When you call out your mother's name on the penultimate line, she grabs the knife she intended to cut the cake with, and sinks it into her own chest. As her blood falls to the floor, the ritual is complete. The sun flickers and dies, the ground cracks open and forgotten gods emerge. Risen from their slumber, you realise with horror that their sole purpose in returning to this realm is to silence your singing. They kill you instantly and usher in 10,000 years of darkness.
20: The beauty of your singing reduces everyone present to tears and they refuse to listen to anything else for the rest of their lives. Someone happened to be recording, and the recording becomes spread across the world. All music becomes obsolete, as your rendition of happy birthday is preferred by everyone on the planet to any other song ever recorded or produced. The song is shown to have a multitude of positive health benefits, and long exposure to the song becomes the number 1 treatment for cancer and aids. The god Apollo becomes jealous of your music and attempts to kill you, however upon hearing your recording of the song playing in your house, falls to his knees and offers you his golden lyre as a reward for granting him the gift of hearing such beauty.
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