Host a Completely Unhinged Board Game Night and We’ll Reveal Your True Final Boss Energy

People RSVP’d via spreadsheet and you’re proud of that.

No one knows what’s happening, but everyone is yelling.

You brought props. Obviously.

You genuinely might forget to start playing.

The rulebook will remain pristine.

Pieces will be stained. Souls will be claimed.

Yes, you baked custom cookies for each class.

Turn order is just a suggestion now.

‘No greasy hands near the cards’ is canon.

Hope you like spreadsheets disguised as fun.

If you fall off the map, that’s a skill issue.

There is a prepared villain monologue. It is laminated.

The box says ‘20 minutes’; you say ‘lifetime of trauma’.

You *will* optimize this pandemic, thanks.

There may be a pop quiz.

Secretly a benevolent tyrant.

Sink or swim, nerds.

Look, time is fake.

Canon shall be obeyed.

We play by *your* patch notes.

Diplomacy is just bribery with extra steps.

Conflict resolution via carbs.

The economy must flow.

We settle this on the track, coward.

Their character becomes a tragic NPC now.

The data will be used… later.

The law bends, but only for story value.

They know what they did.

‘I thought we all hit start?’

Their name is ‘Consequences’.

If it’s printed, it’s important.

Oops, guess we’ll have to restart.

Soft outside, ruthless inside.

Your theme song is just engine noises.

Roll for intimidation (with advantage).

You object to fun without structure.

An icon. A menace.

Slow and inevitable, like taxes.

If you go down, it’s with fireworks.

It was foreshadowed. You have receipts.

Page 23 strikes again.

Distraction is a viable strategy.

Victory by fine print.

Skill issue: extended edition.

Whoever sells the best monologue wins.

Democracy via Doritos.

You have spreadsheets ready to prove it.