I don't understand why we're waiting for him to get to the point, I whispered to Poot.
"Don't be like that, Charlie," he said with a grim smile, "he just feels like the game has to take on a certain tone."
Really? 'Cause he's boring the fuck out of me.
"You two on the end," the DM said, "none of that talk. What you say in this game matters."
Good. I'm going to the nearest bar and having a drink.
"We're not there yet."
"Seriously," Poot asked. "You've been giving us the set up for twenty minutes."
"Look, if you two jokers don't want to play," he began.
See, that's the problem. We desperately want to play. You just want to tell a fucking story. I'm done waiting. Anyone else want to go to the Dog Food Factory? It's Cinco de Mayo and they've got half priced beer all night.
"Yeah," Poot said, "fuck this noise."
"You two just don't understand how to play D&D!"